#<-since the feelings mostly. come from this

[lostfracturess]

words you couldn't hear — satoru gojo

satoru's been hopelessly in love with you for years, but can only confess when you can't hear him. but someday—maybe someday soon—he'll tell you for real.

"How do these look?" you ask, slipping on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and striking a pose. "Be honest."

Satoru, who's been trailing behind you in the electronics store for the past hour without complaining like the best friend he's always been, looks up from the speaker he's been fiddling with. "You look good in anything."

"No, for real." You turn to check your reflection in a nearby screen. "Do they make my head look bigger? I feel like they make my head look bigger."

He snorts, reaching over to adjust the headband. His fingers brush against your temple, and you try not to think about how many times those same hands have absentmindedly played with your hair during movie nights, or how he still unconsciously reaches for you whenever he laughs too hard, just like he did when you were kids.

"That's what you're concerned about? The size of your head?"

"It's a valid concern."

"Your head is perfectly normal-sized," he assures you, his fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long as he fixes the fit. "Though I suppose all that overthinking has to go somewhere—"

You shoot him a look, but there's no heat behind it. Fifteen years of friendship has made you immune to his teasing — well, mostly immune.

You're not quite immune to the way your pulse quickens when he's standing this close, or how he still smells like that same cologne he's worn since high school, the one you helped him pick out for his first date with someone else while ignoring the weird ache in your chest.

"I really need good ones for studying," you say, checking the price tag. "My roommate talks way too much."

Satoru winces at the price. "Expensive. But they're supposedly the best."

"Worth every penny if they can block out her ramblings." You adjust the fit, immediately noticing how they muffle the noise of the shop. "Oh wow, these are actually incredible. Say something so I can test them properly."

"What should I say?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "Anything. Just need to check if they work."

His expression shifts then, melting into something tender as his lips move. Even though you can't hear the words, something about the gentle way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter strangely in your chest.

"These are perfect!" you say, pulling them off, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. "I couldn't hear you at all. What did you say?"

Satoru leans against the display counter, chin propped in his hand as he watches you fiddle with the headphone cord, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Nothing really," he murmurs, but there's something soft in his expression, something unguarded that makes your heart skip.

You pause, catching the way he's looking at you — like you're something precious, something more than just his best friend of fifteen years. "Satoru?" you say softly.

He seems to catch himself then, straightening abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck. "Ah, yes. Should we, uh." His voice comes out slightly strangled. "Should we get these paid for? Before they close?"

"The store closes in two hours."

"Better safe than sorry." He's already heading for the checkout, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

What you don't know — what you couldn't hear through those noise-canceling headphones — were three words he's been trying to say for years. Three words that slipped out so easily when he knew you couldn't hear them, when the safety of silence gave him the courage he's never had before.

"I love you."

Simple. Honest. Everything he's wanted to tell you since he was seventeen and realized his best friend was the love of his life. Everything he's been too afraid to say, too afraid to risk losing you.

But for now, those words remain caught in the space between silence and sound, in the safety of a moment you couldn't hear. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to say them again, when you can actually hear him.

Maybe one day soon.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[casscainmainly]

The Evolution of Cassandra Cain's Dialogue

Since Batgirl #1 is out and thriving, I thought it'd be fun to dive into the history of Cass' dialogue throughout different writers/runs. This is not comprehensive - I'll miss some writers, but I'll be covering her generally most known runs in mainline continuity (so no DCeased, Shadow of the Batgirl, etc.). Not a linguist by any means, so linguists on here feel free to chime in! (I'll also give opinions on which interpretations I personally prefer at the end).

Without further ado, we'll start at the beginning:

Kelley Puckett - Batgirl (2000)

Pre-issue 4, Cass speaks minimally in one-word sentences and doesn't have internal narration. Post-issue 4 (when a metahuman changes Cass' brain), she develops an internal monologue and begins to speak longer sentences. I'm splitting Puckett's Cass dialogue into 3 stages: early, middle, and late.

Early (#4 - #12): Cass speaks short, fragmented sentences. Each word has an ellipses between them (panel 1 above, from #7).

Middle (#13 - #24): Cass continues to speak incomplete sentences (often missing a subject or pronouns), but without ellipses (panel 2, from #13).

Late (#25 onwards): Cass begins to speak complete, simple sentences, punctuated by a few ellipses (panel 3, from #33). She continues to speak grammatically (though slowly) throughout the final part of Puckett's run.

Dylan Horrocks - Batgirl (2000)

Horrocks writes very similarly to late-Puckett, with Cass speaking in full, simple sentences, punctuated by the occasional ellipses. Horrocks introduces two new elements to her dialogue:

Cass stutters, sometimes repeating a word or phrase at the beginning of a sentence (panel 1 above, from #39). This is mostly used in the earlier parts of Horrocks' run.

She quotes reality TV (panel 2, from #51).

Maybe because of the reality TV, Cass also speaks more colloquially here than in Puckett's run, using phrases like "come 'n' get it" (from #57).

Andersen Gabrych - Batgirl (2000)

Gabrych's run focuses heavily on Cass' dialogue. Panel 1 above, from #58, suggests her narration boxes are another form of dialogue - Cass is speaking into a recorder. Several features of Gabrych's Cass dialogue are:

Ellipses: Even more than his predecessors, Gabrych scatters ellipses throughout Cass' speech (panel 1).

Fillers: Cass extensively uses filler words such as 'uh', 'um', and 'like' (panel 1, panel 2 from #61).

Longer sentences: Cass is more talkative and speaks longer sentences (panel 1, which is basically more words per panel than Puckett and Horrocks combined).

Wordplay: Cass often ponders definitions and word structures (panel 1, 2).

Adam Beechen - Batgirl (2008)

After evil Cass (that dialogue is not worth discussing), Beechen gets another chance with Cass in this miniseries. More than any other writer, Beechen differentiates Cass' internal monologue from her dialogue - her narration boxes are much wordier than her speech.

Her dialogue is a more loquacious version of late-Puckett or Horrocks: full sentences interspersed with ellipses (panel 1, from #1). The ellipses drop off towards the end of the series.

Her narration boxes use a variety of sentence structures and vocabulary. They read more or less as fluent English (panel 2, from #4).

Scott Snyder - Gates of Gotham (2011)

Snyder's Cass somewhat resembles mid-Puckett, using short sentences without ellipses (panel 1, from #2). She speaks a fair amount, but is more taciturn here than in any previous run. This is partially due to her not having narration boxes.

A unique feature of Snyder's Cass is preferring formal to informal speech. Though she uses contractions (panel 1), she goes large stretches without them (panel 2, from #3). She also omits the subject of a sentence only once in 5 issues, whereas native speakers (like Dick) drop the subject all the time ('have you ever been to Paris?' vs. 'ever been to Paris?'; Snyder's Cass would always say the former instead of the latter).

Sidenote: Batman & Robin: Eternal (2015)

Quick note about B&R:E: Cass is reintroduced into canon after being erased by the New 52, which means she's back to having very limited language ability. The series is scripted by multiple people, so it's hard to analyse. Suffice it to say she speaks in monosyllabic words, at most a short, incomplete sentence, but is mostly silent.

James Tynion IV - Detective Comics (2016)

Because Cass' language ability has been reset, Tynion develops her speech along the lines of Batgirl (2000).

Early Tynion has Cass speaking single word sentences (panel 1, from #938). Very similar to pre-metahuman touch Cass in BG (2000).

During the League of Shadows arc, Cass begins to speak a few words at a time, often separated by an ellipsis (panel 2, from #956).

Afterwards, Cass' friendship with Basil Karlo blossoms, leading to this run's most distinctive language feature - Cass improves her speech via studying and quoting Shakespeare (panel 3, from #958). Her improvement is reflected in the rest of the run through speaking longer and more frequent sentences.

Bryan Hill - Batman & The Outsiders (2019)

Like other writers, Hill's Cass generally uses short, simple sentences. She frequently drops the subject or pronoun in a sentence (panel 1, from #1). Hill doesn't use ellipses to separate the sentences, opting for periods most of the time.

Cass sometimes omits other words from her sentences too, dropping articles like 'a' and 'the' (panel 2, from #4), prepositions like 'to', and verbs like 'is' (panel 3, from #9). This peters out in the second half of the run.

Becky Cloonan and Michael W. Conrad - Batgirls (2022)

Similar to mid-Puckett, Batgirls has Cass speak mostly in short, 1-2 word sentences (panel 1, from #2). Cloonan and Conrad occasionally use ellipses as well, though mostly for emphasis/natural hesitation rather than indicating a unique speech pattern (panel 2, from #7).

Cass also has a habit of repeating/echoing a phrase Stephanie says (panel 3, from #16). This might be more of a friendship thing than a speech thing, though.

Alyssa Wong - Spirit World (2023)

Wong's Cass uses short sentences sometimes interrupted by ellipses, like late-Puckett and Horrocks (panel 1, from #1). Generally, if the sentence is three words or less, there won't be an ellipsis (panel 2, from #5).

Kelly Thompson - Birds of Prey (2023)

Thompson's Cass draws on a lot of previous iterations, but is somewhat unique as a whole. Some elements of BoP Cass include:

She speaks in sentences of varying lengths, but rarely with more than one clause (panel 1, from #1). Thompson is more strict about not using commas with Cass than most other writers.

Cass is a little more talkative (panel 2, from #5). Her sentences are fairly lengthy compared to most other runs, and she doesn't always opt for the shortest way to say things ('where is it?' instead of 'do you know where it is?'). Thompson also doesn't use ellipses, which adds to the sentences feeling longer/more complete.

BoP is ongoing so Thompson may add more to her speech.

Sidenote: Ram V - Detective Comics (2023)

Putting this in a sidenote since there's not much to say, but Ram V takes after mid-Puckett, with Cass using shorter, incomplete sentences. Cass almost always omits the subject of a sentence; her dialogue is as short as possible while retaining clarity.

Thoughts

Because Cass' language disability is a core part of her character, but learning to speak is also a core part of her character, I prefer writers who emphasize her unique speech patterns without reducing her range of expression. My favourites are:

Gabrych - by far the person who put the most effort into his dialogue, Gabrych-Cass has such a vibrant, distinctive style of speaking. The narration boxes, Cass' wordplay, and the use of fillers and ellipses all combine for a speech style that highlights her disability without reducing her to it.

Puckett/Horrocks - combining because they are really very similar. Puckett and Horrocks both use ellipses to great effect, and is a great style to emulate for Cass in an earlier stage of life. Horrocks' use of reality TV is severely underutilised. Puckett, of course, is the gold standard for typical Cass dialogue - if Gabrych's style is a little too much, Puckett and Horrocks are the way to go.

Tynion - mostly because of the Shakespeare thing. It's such a beautiful and clever way of showing her progress, and the amount of symbolism you could do with Cass quoting Shakespeare is unmatched.

I don't super enjoy the more talkative Casses (Beechen, Thompson to an extent), though I kind of like Snyder's take because there's a sense of Cass being very careful with her speech there. If you're writing Cass for a fanfic or something, I would avoid Hill's Outsiders; the run is great, but Cass' ungrammatical speech is unusual and doesn't jibe with the rest of her depictions. Ram V and Wong are relatively good depictions to draw from though.

Of course these are my opinions! I may have gotten some things wrong/overgeneralised stuff, so take all this with a grain of salt. All you need to know is you should read Batgirl (2000) :).

[ellecdc]

Since we’re thinking about roommate AUs… ⛄️ with roommate!Remus and the prompt “uh, yeah- i took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. sorry.”?

these two awkjfahiarhfawg -> the winter games

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who acted in self-defence [804 words]

CW: landlords, it's very cold, fluff

Remus - though undoubtedly upset on his own behalf - was thoroughly devastated for you when he got home to find the flat nearly just as cold as it was outside. At least he got to spend his day in the warmth of the office; you were off today, and from the sniffles coming from the living room on account of your no doubt cold bitten nose, he knew you were home.

“Is this sodding radiator still not working?” He grumbled in way of hello as he hurried into the living room - coat, mitts, hat and all - to investigate. 

“No! Don’t touch it!” You shouted from the certifiable nest you’d made out of pillows and blankets from the entire flat. 

“Why not? It’s already not working; I hardly see how trying to fix it can make it any worse.”

“Yes but right now it’s the landlord's problem; if you go busting it in an attempt to fix it, we’ll be getting the bill.”

And damn the scenic yet ancient building the two of you called home, and damn your negligent landlord no doubt cosy with his own working furnace and perhaps even an operational fireplace in his warm flat, but mostly damn you for being so smart and so right and so cute. 

Remus let out a sigh and stood to face you. “Well, what have you been doing to stay warm all day then?” 

You pursed your lips as you looked around the flat. “Well, I was trying for cosy vibes with holiday movies, I lit candles mostly for ambience but there’s a part of my brain that insists the temperature rose at least one degree in response, and hot cocoa.” You finished your sentence by lifting the mug in your hand.

“I appreciate the effort, but I have a feeling that the cocoa is the only effective strategy at this point.” 

You smirked at him as you lifted the many blankets off of your lap and made to stand. “I’ll go make you one.”

You were just about to step behind the couch when Remus’ hand involuntarily shot out and grabbed you by your elbow. “Hang on.” Remus laughed accusatively. “What are you wearing?”

Remus had the feeling you were aware you’d been caught as you took a moment to consider your answer before slowly pivoting on your sock-clad feet, smiling at him bashfully. 

“Erm, yeah…I took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. Sorry.” 

But Remus didn’t release your arm and you didn’t appear to expect him to; staring him down for a beat before you deflated with a theatrical moan. “Fine. I’m layered, okay!? Is that what you wanted to hear?!” And with this, you pulled the waistband of Remus’ sweatpants that you had needed to roll numerous times away from your hips to expose another set of your own thick sweatpants underneath them. “And underneath these sweatpants are a pair of leggings. I had tried putting two pairs of my own sweatpants on, but it was too tight and the feeling of losing circulation only left me more cold so yeah, I went back into your room after already hijacking your bedding and helped myself to a pair of sweats. Okay? But any grievances will need to be taken up with my attorney, Rem, because I am cold and it was self-defence!” 

You paused abruptly then; a heat now evident in your face as you panted, and he only hoped that the heat was a welcome reprieve from the cold. 

“I’m cold.” You repeated quite pathetically, and Remus couldn’t help it anymore. He laughed. A big, deep, belly-aching laugh. 

“Oh, oh god, my poor girl.” He managed between laughs, reaching out and pulling you towards him by the shoulders; you swayed into him all too willingly, burrowing into him greedily even though he was sure his jacket was still cold with the fresh winter air. “M’so sorry you’ve been so cold.”

“You should be.” You whimpered into his chest, clearly chuffed at getting the sympathy you’d been looking for. “I’m very cold.”

“I bet.” He agreed, rubbing a few stripes up and down your back before pulling away from you; he could actually see you mourn the loss. “How about you make me some cocoa, and I’ll go change into comfies and meet you in that nest of blankets; we can pool together our resources.” The resource was warmth, but you clearly understood that when you went all but flying in the direction of the kitchen.

“Make haste, Lupin!” 

Remus wasn’t ashamed - not even a little - at the speed in which he ran to his room to change out of his work clothes and into his comfies, grabbing another one of his jumpers to throw in the dryer for you.

What? Your outfit obviously wasn’t complete without a matching jumper.

[grimmsbride]

HABITS [ curly / reader ]

when it comes to picking coworkers, curly isn’t the most dependable. but.. the same could be said about keeping his feelings in check.

tags / ex - friends with benefits to lovers(?) | bittersweet | oral sex ( fem. receiving ) | slight praise kink | porn without plot | canon-divergence | chubby coded reader | curly isn’t 100% accurate & i am sorry this is my first time writing for him | curly is lowkey a liar but it’s okay | curly is big ( based off fanart mostly but also game ) | pet names | etc. if i forgot something please alert me.

notes / it has been like.. months since i last posted on tumblr. but i am slowly getting my spark back. this has also been cross posted on archive so if you see it there do not be alarmed. my writing is rusty, so please be nice with criticisms i’m quite sensitive 😭 but please do enjoy <3

“You look like shit.” You murmured softly, eyes carrying up the man’s form. You hadn’t expected anyone to be awake at this hour, let alone outside of their quarters. But whether to your dismay or pleasure someone had joined your little excursion, that someone being your beloved Captain; Curly.

Who looked to be teetering between the land of the dead and living. Bags lined those pretty eyes, a little red— surely from strain. When was the last time he got enough sleep? Was a thought that quickly passed your mind. Regardless you decided against asking, seeing as you were positive he wouldn’t have an answer for you anyway.

The Captain— Curly, allowed the corner of his mouth to lift; a humorous sigh escaping him. “Do I? Hadn’t noticed..”

“And here I thought Mr. Handsome prided himself on his vanity and dignity.”

The man shook his head at your usual flirty remarks, glancing about your own form. He took in the makeshift wrap of blankets you held around your pajama-clad body, noticing your feet covered in slippers. Not the proper attire obviously, but reprimanding you just didn’t seem worth it at the moment.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrugged, eyes shifting away to glance at a wall. “More like didn’t want to. With so much work to be done I rarely get any time to my thoughts.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“For you.. maybe. I quite enjoy my mind.”

You smiled at the soft chuckle that escaped him, taking the moment to move just a bit closer. Again, your eyes landed upon those dreaded bags; hand rising slowly to his face. You watched as his eyes focused quite quickly, clearly puzzled by your sudden attention. Regardless he didn’t move, instead allowing your palm to press against his cheek— your thumb then moving to trace a bag.

“I’m serious though. It looks like you haven’t gotten sleep in days. Is something wrong?”

A flicker.. just a slight glint, drifted through his gaze. An emotion you couldn’t quite place but didn’t like regardless. You stood silently, watching as his hand rose before your own. Gentle fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging your hand down his cheek — the abrasion of his facial hair tickling your palm — before pulling it away from him.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about [Name].”

Curly spoke, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. But you knew him. All, too, well. The man could hold water but there were times it spilled over just a little. Even if he didn’t explicitly say it, you knew his concern was something big— something that definitely affected you.

“Captain stuff, huh?” You said slowly, hand pulling away from his own in a dejected fashion. You couldn’t help but feel that way, eyes drifting away almost stubbornly.

“I thought our relationship was above such titles.”

“[Name]—“

You shook your head, Curly clamming up in response. Times like these were exactly why you regretted taking the man up on his offer. The promise of lines not being crossed was a discussion made in the same breath, yet here you were; questioning why exactly your past relations meant little to his decision to be secretive.

But it was just relations.. right? Just sex, a way to blow off steam. People that sleep together with no love shouldn’t act like this anyway.

Your eyes finally lifted from its stubborn gaze on the wall and back to the blonde before you, attempting to seem unfazed by the intense stare he was delivering you.

You forced a smile. “I’m just messing with you, Captain. Lighten up a bit.”

Curly continued to stare before coming close, a single footstep that pressed against the metal beneath the two of you. You nearly forgot how large the male was; broad and tall, staring down at you with those bag lined.. beautiful eyes. He reached over, fingers ghosting the back of your hand for a moment before grabbing it.

This caused you to shiver, eyes widening slowly as you watched the man bring it back to its previous place; right at his cheek. He used his own appendage to assure you cupped his face.

“I know you well enough to know when you’re joking or not, [Name].” Curly spoke lowly, eyes flickering between multiple spots on your face. “Right now.. I don’t want to worry you. It’s something I’ll figure out, but I will let you know soon.. I promise.”

That’s what you hated most about Curly. Even if you were clearly worried about him, he just loved to spin it so he could worry about you. All while easing such worries with the prettiest words. a master of the tongue. In more ways than one.

The flush of warmth that broached your cheeks was hard to ignore, eyes fluttering to the ground as his gaze grew intense. You allowed your thumb to trace his skin, teeth grazing the inside of your cheek. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let such thoughts or feelings resurface. Strictly professional was your own personal mantra.

Yet here you were, holding the cheek of the man you’ve been pining for— desperately wanting to touch more.

And that you did.

Against better judgement, head clear of thinking— you pressed forward, allowing your lips to brush against his own. You felt his breath stutter, body growing still at your bold action. This allowed your eyes to rise, batting thick eyelashes at the man as you spoke:

“Then.. until then, why don’t I take your mind off of it?”

You solidified your words in a single kiss, free hand clutching your blanket that threatened to slip. You felt the hand on your own slowly fall, clearly from shock. You couldn’t blame him. This was going against everything the two of you decided on. Everything the two of you have built since being onboard of this ship.

Even so, you didn’t mind destroying it— nor did your beloved captain.

Large hands slid under your blanket, finding the small of your back. With a pull you were flush against his form, the kiss deepening. Soft lips collided in a gentle battle, that slowly became fierce as time passed. Feelings buried deep began to bubble over, creating that haze that left you breathless. You could only moan as his tongue slid across your lips, effectively parting them. There, Curly took his time to claim your mouth as his once again, coating each and every inch with his saliva.

Your hand slid from his cheek to a large shoulder, gripping him so tightly as your knees began to buckle. Any longer and you were sure you would topple over right then and there.

Desperate for air Curly reluctantly pulled away, staring at that little string that connected the two of you. Heavy breaths escaped you, causing the want developing deep in his stomach to just burn even more. His eyes lifted away from you for a moment, an inner turmoil playing behind his eyes.

He was the Captain. He didn’t have time to play hooky and hook up with an old fling. Curly had duties.. responsibilities and expectations. And yet, as his flicked back to your form; so wanton and palpable— any thought of being the revered Captain of Tulpar escaped quite quickly.

Leaving behind Curly. A man who couldn’t quite help his desires. And a man who wasn’t the best at picking his coworkers.

“Come here.” Curly spoke softly, tugging you close before leaning; slipping his hands under your legs and lifting you easily.

The butterflies in your stomach tumbled and tumbled, threatening to spill from your mouth the moment he stepped towards his room. Effortlessly, as if your body meant completely nothing. Oh how you loved whenever he showed off his strength.

The door slid open routinely, revealing the simple quarters. A bed, desk, and dresser— surely filled with underwear and extra uniforms. The air was cool, perfect yet you couldn’t help but shiver the moment the man laid you across his sheets. A breath caught in your throat as he climbed over you, a hulking mass covering your line of vision only allowing you to see him.

Curly’s hands pressed against the mattress beneath you, leaning down to steal your lips once again. His light beard brushed against your skin, a feeling that caused you to chuckle, a feeling you missed.. feeling. Your hands rose, collecting his face into your palms as you deepened the kiss. Soft smacks of passion passed throughout the room as lips tangled in a secret conversation.

A hand rose from the mattress, treading down your plump form to find the edge of your shirt. His fingers, ever so gentle, slid under the fabric to spread across the span of your warm stomach. You sighed into his mouth, reeling into his touch as it grew higher and higher— soon skimming the bottom of your breasts.

“Curly..don’t tease.” You pulled back to speak, eyes focused on his features. You couldn’t help the pulse between your thighs the moment an impish smile crossed his features.

“I’m not, just.. remembering.”

With his soft murmur Curly was lifting your shirt off your body, placing it somewhere on the bed. Lowering, his breath fanned across your warm skin, gentle kisses pressing against your neck.

You hissed, eyes pinching closed, as your hands lowered to grasp his arms. Your lips parted as a large hand soon covered one of your breasts, gently squeezing whilst his thumb brushed against your hardening nipple.

As much as you wished to beg for more you knew better than to do so. Curly wasn’t a person that rushed when it came to these things. He enjoyed taking his time, building your pleasure bit by bit so when the main event happened you were completely lost in ecstasy. And as annoying as it was to admit, you couldn’t help but love his attention to detail.

The kisses lowered to the valley of your chest, tongue gliding across the hot skin, sliding to your untouched nipple. The man mumbled against your flesh, licking and sucking; delivering such sweet attention you couldn’t help the bated breaths beginning to form.

Should you be worried? The others weren’t close but weren’t far. And you highly doubt any of them would want to be waken by your less than professional “activities”.

Unfortunately, as Curly’s other hand traveled low concern for their sleep slowly drifted away.

You whimpered softly as his hand breached your pants and panties, fingers gliding across your slick slit for a moment before using two to spread you gently. Fuck.. was the simple sigh that escaped you as his middle finger easily found your swelling bud, rubbing it into slow circles.

“Fu..fuck Curly, I’m supposed to be taking your mind off work.”

Curly lifted from your breast, nipple red and slick from his constant attention. “Oh don’t worry, you are.” The man confirmed, allowing a finger to slide lower— pressing against your entrance. With ease it was slipping in, velvety walls swallowing the thick digit greedily.

“Now all I can think about is you, your body, your reactions.. how much I missed when you’d…—“ As another finger of his slid in, the Captain curled them ever so slightly, watching intently as your lips parted wider, a breathy moan escaping your throat.

“— did that.”

His lips curled, clearly delighted. Would it be cocky to admit he loved the way you didn’t change? How he still remembered every single button to press? It was if.. you were made perfectly, just for him.

That, or Curly ruined you for every other man.

The man released your breast for a moment to tug your bottoms down, allowing him to watch his fingers appear and disappear into your wet snatch. Soft plaps escaped from between your pretty thighs, arousal trickling down his appendages and surely to your taint.

His mouth couldn’t help but water, and without thinking the man was lowering closer. Curly’s lips parted above your cunt, breath fanning across the wet heat for a moment before covering your sweet little bud. His free hand quickly came to rest on your lower stomach, only to then decide to hold you down with his forearm.

There; unable to move, his lips sucked your swollen clit, beard brushing across you so deliciously.

A swear dropped from your lips, hands flying to your mouth to cover more sounds that threatened to spill. Your legs fluttered, a warmth brewing deep in your tummy— one you haven’t felt in months. Sure, when you could you rubbed one out — unfortunately without your beloved vibrator that hadn’t made it on Tulpar with you — but this was different. A feeling you couldn’t quite replicate with your own fingers or imagination.

His fingers were just so much longer, bigger; filling and stretching you perfectly. Pushing against your warm walls, curling to press against spots you couldn’t achieve. And even as your clit began to sting at the sensitivity, the pleasure was far more overwhelming.

Tears sprung at your eyes and through a glossy gaze you were taking Curly in. His own eyes were closed, heated breaths and groans fanning against your cunt as he devoured you effortlessly. Such a fucking messy eater. And you loved it.

As the pleasure brewed, forming into a band bound to snap you allowed a hand to lower to his hair, fluffy blonde locks sliding through the gaps of your fingers as you clung to him. Your legs shook, body arching off the bed as your other hand held your mouth so harshly you were sure there were scratches on your cheek.

“Fuck..!” Slammed against your palm in a muffled cry, body clenching as you came undone. You heard an all too familiar groan of pure delight as Curly gently lapped you up, withdrawing his fingers but refusing to remove his arm.

Whimpers of overstimulation did nothing to him, the man continuing to clean you up until he was satisfied. And when he finally was, he rose, the bottom half of his face coated with your mess.

Your hand lowered from your mouth, soft pants escaping. “I hate you.”

“Do you?” Curly was quick to answer, moving his arm to instead grasp your thighs. He lifted you a bit, pulling your bottom closer to him. Once you nodded the man chuckled, thumbs gliding across the marks that were painted across your hips.

“I don’t believe that. Not one bit.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but was left silently searching for snarky banter as you watched the captain’s hands move towards his slacks. There, his thumbs caught the waist band of his bottoms, tugging them down to reveal that sharp v-line and much more. Curly was a large man, everywhere. His length was thick, a round tip— bulging red with an angry vein traveling down his pale shaft.

You wondered if a pillow would be better than your hands at this point.

“Thought you were gonna say something..”

Curly teased, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way and tossing them with your pile of clothes. He could only chuckle as you shook your head, crawling over your form to hover a breath’s away from you.

“Good.”

The man was smart to capture your lips as the moment you felt his length prod and push, you couldn’t help the little cry escaping you— perfectly muffled by his own mouth.

The stretch burned, burned so damn good you could have came again just from that. Curly was a gentleman of course, pushing in slowly, allowing you to grow accustomed to his size after so many months.

About halfway you were pulling away from his lips, head pressed against the pillow beneath you as sharp pants escaped you. Curly’s hand brushed your hip whilst the other cradled your face.

“That’s good.. breathe, you can take it all— can’t you?” His voice was sweet, soothing as his hips continued to push— plunging deep inside of you.

Your eyes were struggling to stay open, pretty groans falling from your tongue, easing into a sigh the moment you felt his hips stop; now fully seated within you. The feeling was mildly uncomfortable, even with his loving preparation, but you could make do.

You have before.

Curly leaned down, pressing his lips to your face, peppering them across his skin. Your forehead, under your eye, your nose, lips, and chin— everywhere he could reach. Attempting to soothe you even more.

Your hands rose gliding under his shirt to instead press against his broad, muscular back. Your finger tips traced little shapes across his skin, soon curling to allow your nails to scrape the moment he moved his hips.

Curly began to pull them back slowly, allowing only the tip inside before pushing forward. A single motion that caused the both of you to shudder, pleasure quickly brewing once more.

Soon enough with little restraint, Curly started a gentle pace. Back and forth, a hand on your waist whilst the other kept him upright. His length pressed into you deeply, pushing against a spongy spot that caused stars to invade your vision.

Your eyes were screwed shut, mouth lax as whimpers of passion escaped you sharply. Your nails dug and dragged into his back, an ache forming in your hips as his simple thrust became drills.

Curly couldn’t help himself at this point. He’s been holding back for far too long. Every interaction, every playful banter, every secret exchange of the eyes— played within in his mind. The man was smart enough to acknowledge how stupid he was. Playing with yours and his feelings, pretending your past didn’t matter; that coworkers were a status that you could achieve.

But no. He was fooling himself. There’s no way in hell, especially after this, was the man going to be able to go back to just being coworkers.

“Curly.. fuck, fuck— they’re gonna hear—!” You cried, legs shaky and wrapped tight around his waist. In the midst of his haze had suddenly increased his speed, ferocity; placing nearly his entire weight behind each thrust. Your eyes were rolling back at this point, nearly lost to the pleasure if it wasn’t for the sudden banging of the bed against the wall.

That fear of being discovered nearly killed your high.

Fortunately, Curly heeded your concerns, his hand lifting from the bed to instead grip the metal railing. You nearly gushed on the spot, watching his eyebrows pressed close, focusing so intently on your pleasure. His grip on your hip nearly mirrored the bed, refusing to release you. Every thrust you took, pushing you deep into the mattress as your breath threatened to leave.

“Mi..missed you.. I missed you so much.” Curly huffed, pants escaping his open mouth as his thrusts never faltered. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the room, a steady rhythm to accompany his thrusts.

You tugged him closer by his back, shoving your face into his neck with your mouth directly against his ear. You wished to reply, expressing you felt the same exact way— even more. But of course you were left to only moan and gasp, his name coming out in struggled cries that only stirred him up even more.

Moments of your intense passion continued until your peaks grew closer, the two of you struggling even harder to keep your voices level. Maybe you two truly didn’t give a damn who heard.

“Curly!—“ His lips were colliding with yours in moments, sealing the deal as you came undone for the second time that night. You gushed around him, coating his dick with your thick essence— trickling to his sheets.

The man, releasing a final groan right into your mouth, pushing deep; releasing inside of you. Filling you to the brim.

The captain’s hips slowly settled, yet his lips continued to cover your own; moving slowly and lovingly. Curly released the bed frame to instead cup your face, cool fingers an ease to your hot skin.

Soon enough the two of you pulled away, a soft groan escaping you as the man slowly slid out of you. You tried to ignore the rather unpleasant feeling of his release slowly trickling out of you, instead focusing on the man above you— who was currently smiling.

Your swollen lips flattened into a pout, hands rising from his back to instead rising to his face.

“Don’t smile at me, Captain.”

Curly chuckled, hands sliding under you to lift whilst he sat up. Pulling you onto his lap, the man cradled your waist, thumbs brushing across your skin.

“It’s habit at this point, my love.”

You couldn’t help your own smile, arms wrapping around his neck, leaning to give him a small peck.

“Mhm..” You only hummed, eyes closing in a blissful manner as his forehead pressed against your own.

“No matter what, I’ll always be here to support. You know that, right?”

“I know, [Name]. I know.”

[thankskenpenders]

IDW's Knuckles 30th Anniversary special

I'm still working on finishing Shadow Generations and writing up a big thing about it (yes, yes, it's taken me a month to finish a four hour game, I know), but in the meantime we've got another new Classic era comic out from IDW! Let's talk about that.

The last Classic era release we got was the Fang miniseries earlier this year, which I mostly enjoyed but also found a bit underwhelming. It felt like we were getting diminishing returns with the Classic comics. Ian seemed to be struggling to make the Classic era feel fresh within Sega's current restrictions for that branch of the brand, a branch that by its very nature discourages experimentation and new ideas in a way that the ever-evolving Modern era doesn't. He was mostly just playing the hits, sticking the currently permitted Classic era characters next to each other in straightforward one-off adventures and letting the art team do their thing. We were getting the Ian who was happy to simply be able to take these toys out of the toy box. Again, these comics have been fine, and the art's always a treat, but the novelty of simply seeing a comic with the old character designs was wearing off for me when the stories didn't have as much meat as Ian's (or Evan's) excellent Modern era work.

And then along comes this Knuckles 30th Anniversary special, which is by far my favorite Classic Sonic comic Ian's written for IDW.

...I can't really talk about why it's so good without getting into spoilers, though. The short version is that it's a really nice little story about Knuckles and another character from the games, who's used as a great foil for him... except the solicit didn't even say which character it is, so I'm hesitant to say here. But if you're a fan of Knuckles, you should definitely just go read this. It's great. This one's mandatory reading to me.

And with that out of the way, let's dig deeper and get into the spoilers.

The spoiler zone

After an opening that very blatantly homages Tyson Hesse's old Knuckles comic (yes, the very same one that helped inspire the name of this blog), Knuckles realizes that Angel Island has drifted near the Northstar Islands from Sonic Superstars, and decides that the Master Emerald must be giving him a mission to train the archipelago's own resident guardian.

Yes, this isn't just a Knuckles comic. It's a Knuckles and Trip comic!

I was really delighted by this. I like Trip a lot, and it's nice to get this chance to expand upon her as a character. I think this is her first speaking role, even? I'm glad to see her stick around, and I'm glad to see her appear in the comics so soon, especially since we're still waiting for the mainline comics to incorporate Sage. She's still clumsy and fairly timid, like in the game, but without the looming thread of Eggman she gets to let loose a little. She's very exuberant and expressive and playful, especially thanks to Aaron Hammerstrom's fantastic art throughout the issue (complemented with inks by Rik Mack and colors by Valentina Pinto). It makes sense why she gets along so well with Amy. I hope we get to see those two interact more in the future!

Anyway, so Knuckles shows up on the Northstar Islands after contemplating his lot in life, and realizes that he and Trip have a lot in common. She's not as strong or confident as him, but they're both the last of their kind, these lone guardians of these ancient magical gemstones. He's showing up under the pretense of training her, but you can tell it's nice for him to have a kindred spirit, someone who might be able to really get him.

And then Trip's like... wait, you think I'm the last of my kind?

Yes, the Northstar Islands have actually been inhabited by a whole civilization of sungazers like Trip the whole time! We just didn't see them in the game because, y'know. Eggman was attacking. So Trip told everyone to find shelter and hide from the Badniks. (This actually makes a lot of sense, since you pass by this very village in Speed Jungle Zone. Somebody's gotta maintain those straw roofs and light those torches, and I can't imagine Trip managing all that upkeep herself.)

This also includes a grandfather for Trip, who's been training her as the archipelago's new guardian. Naturally, this has led to some speculation from fans about the old "mandates." In the wake of the Penders lawsuits and Archie's reboot, Sega declared that the comics could no longer create comic-original relatives for the game characters. Has that changed now?

Well, I'm hesitant to read too much into this. For one, as Ian has tried to drill into peoples' heads for years now, the so-called "mandates" aren't a set of concrete commandments from Sega, they just have some general guidelines for the brand, some of which have more wiggle room than others and some of which have changed over time. There's also the simple fact that Sega is working way more closely with the team at IDW, and that people like Ian and Evan are literally on the official Sonic lore team now. Ian can presumably work with the lore team and Sega to figure out Trip's family, and then go and work what they've decided on into a comic, so it's entirely possible Trip's grandpa isn't considered a comic-original character so much as he's a character conceptualized at Sega who just happens to have appeared in an IDW comic before anything else. The lines are a lot blurrier now with all this cross-pollination, compared to the Archie days when it was a separate creative team and a separate canon.

But, again, I don't want to speculate too heavily about what goes on behind the scenes. Regardless, Ian was able to use this comic to expand upon the world of the games and the characters that inhabit it, and I love it for that. It's the first of these Classic comics that feels like truly mandatory reading for the way it builds upon the games. These days we so rarely get to see communities like this in the Sonic world with their own cultures. It's not like we know anything about "hedgehog culture" or whatever. So this is a nice change of pace. The Northstar Islands feel totally different now that I know they've actually been inhabited the whole time, and knowing that Trip is part of an active community with their own history and customs puts a whole new spin on her as a character.

It also makes her a great foil for Knuckles here. He showed up on the island thinking he'd have a lot to teach Trip as someone who's got more life experience as a lone guardian, only to realize his assumptions about her life were completely wrong. Trip brags to her grandpa that Knuckles is gonna train her, but he quickly realizes he doesn't have much to teach her. She may be kind of cowardly, but she knows her way around the island, she can think on her feet, and she can handle herself well enough in a fight, in her own slapstick way.

He doesn't say as much, but you can tell Knuckles is embarrassed about all this. This clumsy kid is showing him up, even though she won't even really listen to his advice! He's also, perhaps, a bit jealous. It's not like he had a grandfather to train him in the ways of being a guardian. (Not in this continuity, anyway.) He doesn't get a whole village of echidnas to teach him about his heritage. He doesn't get fancy ceremonial armor. It's just him, a big green rock, and his two fists. He thought he had this whole guardian thing figured out, and he'd be able to give a kindred spirit like Trip some advice, but it turns out she's lived a whole different life, making him question if he even knows what he's doing. He quickly gets fed up with both Trip and himself, blowing up at her a little.

After reflecting a bit, Knuckles goes back to Trip and comes clean. He doesn't really know how to train her, because no one ever trained him. He figured things out on his own. If he had anyone there to raise him, they've been gone since he was too young to remember. He just knows he has to protect the Master Emerald. That's it. It's a pretty vulnerable moment for Knuckles, one where his dissatisfaction with his life comes to the surface.

Still, Trip sees things differently. He may be used to the fact that he lives on a giant floating island powered by a giant magic emerald, but she thinks that's, like, the coolest thing in the world. HER islands don't fly! And while Knuckles might wish he had someone to train him, Trip thinks that Knuckles becoming such a fearsome fighter all on his own, without even armor to protect him, makes him super awesome and admirable. With both of them feeling better, Trip takes Knuckles to Golden Capital to talk about her heritage as a guardian of the Northstar Islands a bit more, and Knuckles tells her that he thinks she'll be a great guardian before he heads home, once again feeling pretty good about himself.

While this is a pretty straightforward little story about how the grass is always greener on the other side, it's a very effective and sweet one that I enjoyed reading a ton. Aside from the fun of learning more about Trip and the Northstar Islands, it's just a great showcase for Knuckles. (It's definitely a way better showcase for him than his Paramount+ show, as much as I took sick pleasure in that show's baffling creative decisions.) There are also some fun details about his life in here, such as the fact that Sonic, Tails, and Amy have taken camping trips to hang out with him on Angel Island, and the fact that he trained Amy in using her hammer better.

It's just real good, and it feels like the most meaningful addition to The Canon out of any of these Classic era comics Ian's written. We're still gonna be getting more in the future, so hopefully this is a sign that Ian and the lore team have found that happy middle ground where they can keep the Classic comics familiar and nostalgic while also being able to branch out and expand upon things.

Speaking of future comics!

Coming attractions

The end of this issue confirms some things that are in the works for IDW Sonic. For one, we're getting a Chaotix 30th Anniversary special next year. Neat! They also mention some kind of Shadow one-shot dropping following the movie, however fans seem split on whether this is referring to a new story or just the "Best of Shadow" compilation one-shot that's coming out next month. So don't get your hopes up about that in case it's the latter, I guess.

And while we're still waiting for issue #75 of the main series, the IDW team is already thinking all the way ahead to #100, which should drop sometime during the 35th anniversary of the franchise in 2026. Clearly the team's still confident about the longevity of IDW Sonic and excited for the future. And I am, too! Bring on #75!

[cowboykento]

Omg your cowboy!kento has me strung up by my ballsack in the best way possible :) If your request inbox is open….i’d love a drunken cowboy!kento being all lovey dovey and handsy with wifey while she helps him stumble through the house and help him into bed please and thank you your highness 🙏🏼🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

ahhh!!! you’re so funny anon that made me giggle, also i loooove this request so thank u very much :3 love u lots

(i did in fact keep this sfw but minors should not be interacting with this account in general bc it is mostly nsfw so if you see this, feel free to read and then carry on pls and thx)

cowboy!nanami doesn’t go out to drink very often—if he’s going to drink, he’d much rather have a beer or a glass of wine with you and either sit on the porch or the couch, cozied up together. but every once in a while his friends will convince him to make an appearance.

you’d had a part in convincing him, as well, practically pushing him out the door and insisting that he would have much more fun once he actually got there and spent some time with his friends.

“it’d be more fun if you came with me, darlin’,” he tries as he puts his coat on, truly jealous of you curled up in bed with your book.

“i’m busy here, kento,” you raise your book for emphasis. “besides, it’s been a while since you’ve seen gojo and shoko, you’ll have fun! or at least you can probably get some free drinks out of gojo.”

he grimaces but comes over to the edge of the bed to give you a kiss, “whatever you say, sweetheart. i’ll be back by midnight. love ya.”

“stay out as late as you want, handsome. i love you too. text or call if you need anything.”

he hums confirmation before leaving you to your cozy bed and book.

you get a few texts from your husband throughout the night, just small updates or gripes about gojo that made you giggle. after a while the texts start to die down, and you assume kento’s finally loosened up a bit and is having fun.

around midnight, ever true to his word, you get another text from kento: “home soonbaby, lpve you.”

you smile at your phone—happy that kento had clearly had a good night—and shut your book to wait by the front door. it’s only ten minutes later when you see headlights turn into the driveway. you step out to the porch as kento… and gojo walk towards you.

at first glance it looked like kento was helping gojo walk, and you sighed thinking about having to clean up the guest room on such short notice, but as they stepped into the porch light, it was evident that kento was much more drunk than gojo, and he was being helped in.

before you can ask how this had happened, kento seems to recognize that he was home, and that you were waiting for him.

he looks up at you from the bottom of the porch steps, the stars shining in his eyes, “mm, hey pretty girl,” he slurs a bit, making you giggle as you step down to help.

“guess it’s been longer than our cowboy thought since he’s been out,” gojo chimes in as you slide under kento’s arm. “nanamin’s turned into a lightweight it seems.”

kento shrugs gojo away from him, standing mostly on his own but swaying against you a few times.

“thank you gojo, i’ll take care of him from here.”

“finally, he’s been begging for you since his first drink,” gojo laughs, sending you both a quick wink before heading back to the car.

you shift your attention to kento, who’s looking at you with a soft smile on his lips. (he’s been staring at you this whole time).

“let’s go inside, handsome,” you tell him, pulling him forward with you.

as you take the first step, kento pulls you back to him quickly, “can you gimme a kiss first?”

you can’t help giggling at the small pout on his lips, but you quickly oblige him, standing on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck.

kento’s lips quickly shift into a soft smile as his thumb rubs the back of your hand. he lets you lead him inside easily now, following you almost without thinking about it as you take get him ready for bed.

you’re tempted to take a photo of him just to prove how cute he’s being—your fluffy pink headband holding his hair back while you wash his face. he’s coherent enough to help you as you take care of him, but the entire time he’s just looking at you with hearts in his eyes and the biggest smile on his lips.

you’re content with the quiet that’s settled between you, but every once in a while kento will break it to ask for another kiss. or sometimes he won’t even verbalize it, he’ll just give you a sleepy little pout and you know exactly what he means.

it’s so endearing to you to have your husband like this—he’s always sweet with you, but he’s just enthralled with you right now.

“can i have another kiss, baby?” he asks as you cuddle up next to him in bed.

you brush his pretty blonde hair out of his face and give his forehead a kiss, which makes him frown. before he can even complain, you give him another right on his lips, and you can feel him smile into it.

when you pull away there’s a look of bliss on kento’s face, “love you so much, darlin’. y’re the best thing t’ ever happen to me, y’know?”

you scratch your nails along the contours of his chest idly, “i love you too, handsome, to the moon and back.”

this time kento leans in to steal a quick kiss from you, “i love you more, pretty girl.”

normally you’d give in and playfully argue with him, but before the words escape your lips you notice that kento’s eyes have fallen shut, and his breathing has evened out.

you smile to yourself—kento may have gotten the last word, but you had the joy of spending the rest of your life with him, so really, what more could you ask for?

cowboy!kento nsfw masterlist || sfw masterlist

[retrorats]

Some thoughts about Komaeda's fifth free time event and his relationship with Hinata

The fifth Komaeda free time event has always been very popular between Komahina fans, specially because the event was where the romantic tone of their relationship was consolidated for a lot of people. But even if the focus is usually on Komaeda's love confession, I have always felt that this free time event is way more important and meaningful besides that. This event has on it a lot of important moments that say a lot about their relationship, and that make very clear the most prevalent themes of it.

The free time event starts with Komaeda wondering why Hinata is still going out in his way to talk to him. Hinata answers that he is doing it so he can hear the rest of his story, in his typical fashion of rationalizing and dismissing his feelings for Komaeda. While Komaeda tells the rest of the story, he says one of the most important things for this free time event, and in general for the relationship of Komaeda and Hinata.

This dialogue reveals to us the important information about how Komaeda not only perceived the similarities between them since they first met, but also how since that moment, he deeply believed that Hinata would be able to understand him. All of the things that this scene explains are the fundamental basis of the relationship of Komaeda and Hinata. Komaeda's attachment towards Hinata comes from a place of feeling like he had finally found a person that could get to understand him and as we will see with other parts of this free time event, he thought he had finally found a person that could love him.

Hinata's response towards Komaeda is also important to mention. Hinata negates to be not like Komaeda, he rejects their similarities and also in certain way he rejects the connection Komaeda feels between them, something that's accentuated even more considering how Komaeda interprets his words as having lost the opportunity of having someone inheriting his soul. But even in his negation, there's something deeply interesting in the way Hinata phrases certain things in it. If we look well at what Hinata is saying, we can see how while he negates being similar to Komaeda, his negation is mostly focused on negating his misery, and he seems to silently accept being a bystander that is devoid of any unique aura possessed by the talented.

In a certain way, Hinata's negation in this part has always read to me as being a last resort to try to distinguish himself in some way from Komaeda. Compared to other parts where Komaeda alludes to him and Hinata being similar, here the negation of Hinata doesn't feel so unaware like in the other times that he negated it, here it feels more like Hinata is legitimately aware of how similar they are; He says that he's not miserable, and that he is ultimately different from Komaeda as a last resort to negate what he already knows, and to dissociate himself from him.

Komaeda talks about how he doesn't have anyone in this world and how absolutely lonely his existence is. Something very interesting that Komaeda says, is that he mentions his ideologies as the main reason for being alone.

This moment is not only interesting because it puts Komaeda loneliness to be something that is a lot about his way of thinking being completely incomprehensible for other people, but also because it provides us with certain information about the relationship between Komaeda and Hinata. People distancing from Komaeda because of his beliefs is not something that is only mentioned here, but it is very explicitly the main reason why Hinata distanced himself from Komaeda since chapter 1. Because of this, it's not hard to read this to be a certain reference to his relationship with Hinata -a person that Komaeda really felt he could connect with- and how he also ended up distancing himself because of his way of thinking, like other people Komaeda knew.

This seems to be the principal reason of why Komaeda seems to be so focused on believing that he and Hinata are similar, and also in the belief of Hinata being able to understand him. Komaeda has been misunderstood by everyone all his life and his ideologies have isolated him from the rest of society. All of this has resulted on Komaeda having the fixation on finding someone that would be able to understand him, this fixation ultimately leading him to have a very intense attachment towards Hinata even when they barely really knew each other, because it was probably the first time he had known someone that was similar enough to him to understand him.

There is also a certain connection between Komaeda thinking that they are similar, Hinata distancing himself from him and Komaeda's surprised reaction in chapter 1 seeing Hinata had started to think lowly of him. When Komaeda thought that he and Hinata were similar, he probably also believed that Hinata had a similar way of thinking, and because of that, he wouldn't just distance himself from Komaeda like the others when discovering the truth of the murder.

Considering how Komaeda talks about feeling that Hinata was able to understand his feelings, how he implied that he wanted Hinata to "inherit his soul" and in general considering how much this free time event talks about their connection, is not hard to think that in certain way this line is also a little bit about Hinata. Obviously, Komaeda's desire to be loved wasn't born because of Hinata, but I do think considering all we have seen before, is logical to think that one of the reasons Komaeda was so attached to Hinata is because he saw in him -because of their similarities- someone that he could connect with, and for that same reason, someone that could love him.

This is specifically accentuated considering the very strong reaction that has Hinata regarding this statement, literally considering throwing everything he has believed about not forgiving Komaeda until that point. I don't think that his reaction is because he was aware of that fact, but I do think it was written in that way to accentuate how this was talking in a certain way about Hinata.

Hinata's extremely heartbreaking and intense response towards Komaeda "lying" could also be easily considered a hint towards this being in a certain way about Hinata, but his response to this is also about way more than just that. His reaction is due to a lot of things, for one part it's about how Hinata feels like he was just deceived by Komaeda again, after having spent so much time trying to actually understand him. But is also about how Hinata wanted to believe in the existence of the Komaeda he once knew. Both of these very strong reactions -this one and his reaction towards Komaeda wanting to be loved- are born from that, from the need to believe him and to have a proof that after all, there existed some truth about the Komaeda he once knew, that there was some logic behind Komaeda, that there existed a reason behind his behavior.

He specially wanted to believe on that line because of how human it makes Komaeda. His biggest desire being something as sensible and human as connection, and this desire, being only realized when on the verge of death, is something that makes Komaeda look very tragic. That makes, Komaeda, human and sensible, and his actions, suddenly are more understandable. Hinata wants to believe on this because he wants to make reason of Komaeda, and give a logic, a very human and sensible logic, to the way he acts.

To finalize, I really love this event because I feel that in it is conveyed all of the main themes and important parts of the relationship of Komaeda and Hinata. It's very beautiful for me to see all the little parts that make them themselves being presented so strongly and explicitly on a full event.

[loveesiren]

Help Me (Pt. 3)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Synopsis: Rafe and Y/n finally seal the deal ;)

Warnings: Smut, language, stitches?

Word Count: 2.6k+

You'd been staying with the Camerons for three weeks now. When Ward and Rose came home from their trip you were extremely nervous. A beat up Pogue in their house was surely not something they'd want.

But you were wrong. They were nothing but welcoming to you. Sarah had explained to them what happened. Rafe followed you around like a lost puppy. Even Wheezie ended up loving you, coming to you to gossip about boys and school.

Rafe was clean and his parents could see it. Having you around really improved his behavior. You were respectful and kind and even stayed home with Wheezie when they had events to attend. Rose even offered you a job as her assistant when you were feeling better.

They'd even let John B and JJ come by. John B already worked for Ward. JJ was still skeptical of you and Rafe but he was still on his best behavior when he came over.

Rafe slept with you most nights, wanting to make sure he was there incase you needed anything. He was always so gentle and cautious not to hurt you while you healed. Your bruising had mostly subsided. You were finally starting to look like yourself again.

--

"You ready?" Rafe asked as you finished applying mascara to your lashes.

"Fuck yes." You said. "I can't wait to get these things out of me."

Today was the day you were having your stitches removed. You couldn't be more excited to heal and go back to your old self.

"We can stop and see JJ after," Rafe said as he took your hand and lead you downstairs.

"Are you excited?!" Wheezie asked as you walked into the kitchen.

"To stop looking like the bride of Frankenstein? Absolutely." You responded with a smile.

"Think you'll be ready to work?" Rose asks with a smile.

"Definitely! I'm sick of laying around doing nothing."

"Glad to hear it!"

"Okay, we gotta go or you're going to miss your appointment." Rafe scolded, knowing full well you will get sucked into a conversation with Wheezie and Rose.

You waved goodbye as Rafe dragged you out the door and helped you in to his truck.

"I can do it myself, you know," You say as he picks you up and places you into the passenger seat.

"Nope. Not going to risk you getting hurt again." He says before placing a kiss on your cheek and shutting the door.

You smile at the gesture. He was so protective over you. Normally this would annoy you but everything Rafe does makes you feel so happy and safe.

He climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.

"You ready to go, pretty girl?" He smiles over to you.

"I'll be pretty in an hour when these things are out of my face." You say, tracing over your stitches as you look in the mirror.

"You're pretty always. No matter what."

_____________

Rafe held your hand as the doctor slowly pulled each stitch out of your skin. You winced at the pain but it was no where near as bad as it was three weeks ago.

"You're doing good, baby." He said, playing with your hair behind your back.

"Really glad I was passed out when Ricky put them in," You chuckle.

Rafe tries to smile but the thought of that night still tugs at his heart. He'd barely left you alone since. If you weren't with him, he made sure you were with JJ. The few nights you'd spent at the Chateau with your brother and friends, he stayed up all night pacing. He'd text you and you would respond. He swallowed the urge to not over do it though. The last thing he'd want is to push you away.

"And done!" The doctor announces.

You stand up and go to the mirror. Your fingers trace over the scars left on your face and collar bone. You smile sadly. You were so happy the stitches were out but you knew you'd have these scares forever.

"Beautiful," Rafe says as he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. "Absolutely beautiful."

His words make you blush. The fact Rafe has seen you at your absolute worst and still worships the ground you walk on was all you needed.

"Come on," You say, dragging him out of the doctors office. "JJ is waiting."

Rafe's fingers are laced with yours the whole ride to the Chateau. He always got nervous being around the Pogues. Even though his own sister was one of them. It wasn't that he was scared of them. He just cared so much about you and he wanted your brother to accept him. Had he known JJ Maybank's sister would be the love of his life, he would have been a lot nicer to him before.

You pull up to John B's house. Rafe quickly jumps out and comes around to help you out.

The Pogues watch from the porch. JJ runs out to greet you.

"Hey, sis!" He says, wrapping you into a tight hug.

"Hey, J! How are you?"

"Good! Went fishing this morning. Grillin' em up now if you guys are hungry." JJ says. His eyes flicker to Rafe's.

Rafe stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. You turn to look at him. "You hungry, babe?"

His eyes shot up at you. You had never called him any pet name before. "Uhm, yeah, I could eat." He said.

JJ offered him a small smile. You skipped ahead to go say hi to everyone.

"How's she doing?" JJ asked as he trailed behind with Rafe.

"She's doing really well." Rafe answered. "Wheezie really loves her. So do my parents. Rose offered her a job."

JJ laughs. "Yeah, she seems happy. She's really happy with you."

"I try to make her happy," Rafe says as he watches you laugh with your friends. "I love her," He confesses.

JJ bites his lip and nods. Still not fully comfortable with the situation.

"Does she know?"

"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But I'll tell her."

"Look man," JJ starts. "We've had our issues. A lot of fucking issues. But my sister is all I have left. You make her happier than I've ever seen her. I don't want to ruin that for her. I'm willing to set shit aside in order to make her happy."

Rafe smiled, looking down at his feet before looking back at JJ. "I am too." He says, offering his hand to JJ.

JJ offers a small smile and shakes his hand. "Come eat, man!" He says as he hops over to the grill.

Rafe sits down on the couch and pulls you into his arms for a hug. You cling to him as he rocks you back and forth.

Sarah smiles at the two of you. She'd never seen her brother so happy and she was excited to finally see him clean and doing well.

______________________

After you ate you all made your way to the dock. John B and JJ were doing backflips off the boat. Pope, Sarah, and Kie all sat around drinking beer, laughing at the boys. You and Rafe sat on the dock, letting your feet trail in the water below.

The sunset was beautiful. Fading into a variety of warm colors. Rafe was glowing with the way the evening light kissed his tan skin.

You couldn't deny you'd been crushing on Rafe since the night you met him. The way he mumbled about how pretty you were when you helped his drunk ass off the beach. "Are you an angel?" He asked you multiple times as he clung to you.

Now you were living at his house, attached at the hip. Everything felt effortless with Rafe. You were just happy all the time. Watching movies with him and Wheezie, cooking dinner together, laying in bed talking. There was never a dull moment.

"Y/N?" Rafe's voice brought you back to the present moment.

"Yeah?" You ask, looking over at him. His messy hair blew slightly in the wind.

"Uhm...I just wanted to ask you..." He began, chewing on his nails.

"Ask me what, Rafey?"

"A-are we like...like...w-what are we?"

You smile at him and furrow your brows. "I don't know, Rafe. What are we?"

He chuckled awkwardly. "I mean, uhh...I'd like...I mean-"

You couldn't help but laugh as he tripped over his words.

"I'd like if you were my girlfriend," He finally admitted.

The rest of the Pogues were now listening in on your conversation.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back as he smiles at the gesture.

"Does that answer your question?" You whisper as you pull away slightly.

He just nods and smiles and kisses you again. You can hear Sarah and Kiara cheering from behind you.

"Really? Can you not mack on my sister right in front of me?" JJ scolds jokingly.

Rafe puts his hands up in surrender and pulls away from you. You just laugh and flip JJ off.

"You wanna go home and seal the deal?" You ask, biting your lip.

Rafe's eyes widen and he immediately jumps to his feet. "We're heading home!" He announces, helping you up.

"Oh, yuck!" Sarah scoffs, knowing exactly what caused his sudden excitement.

"You need a ride, Sarah?" Rafe asked, keeping his focus on you.

"Are you kidding? We share a wall, Rafe. I'm staying here tonight."

"Oh my God." JJ groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Love you, J!" You say as you pull Rafe towards the truck.

"Yup. Love you too!" JJ says as he shakes the thought of you and Rafe together from his mind. John B, Pope, and Kie just laugh at how uncomfortable Sarah and JJ are.

Rafe opens the passenger door for you and helps you in before running and jumping into the driver's seat. You giggle at his eagerness.

Rafe keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive back to Tanneyhill. Slowly inching closer to your pussy as his fingers explore your skin.

You could already feel yourself dripping with need. When you pulled into Tanneyhill you didn't even wait for Rafe to open the door for you. You practically fell out of the truck and ran to meet him. Lips connecting with his instantly.

"I'm supposed to help you out," He pants against your neck, placing kisses on your skin.

"Help me up," You demand.

Rafe smiles and grabs your ass as you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. He moans into the kiss as he stumbles to the house, sloppily opening the door and slamming you into the wall of the foyer.

"Rafe-"

You both freeze, lips still locked on his as you both open your eyes. Rafe slowly releases you to the floor.

"Hey dad," Rafe says as the two of you round the corner to see Ward, Rose, and Wheezie having dinner.

The two of you stood there, looking guilty with your messy hair and red cheeks. You awkwardly pulled the strap of your tank top back onto your shoulder.

Ward and Rose look at you knowingly and Wheezie just scoffs.

"Would the two of you like some dinner?" Rose asks.

"Uhm, we ate at John B's." You state. "JJ went fishing."

"Yeah, uhm..." Rafe begins. "And we both have to be up early for work tomorrow. Right dad? Rose?"

You nod in agreement. As the two of you slowly back away towards the stairs.

"So we're just gonna get to bed!"

Rose and Ward chuckle at your awkwardness.

"Ew," Wheezie spits. "Just go already!"

And with that, you and Rafe practically race upstairs to his bedroom.

"Subtle," Rose laughs as she sips her wine.

"I'm so over teenagers," Ward chuckles.

--

As soon as Rafe pulls you into his room he slams the door behind you and pushes you up against it, kissing you with force.

You tug at the buttons on his shirt, surely ripping a few as you shove the fabric from his shoulders.

He grabs the hem of your shirt and brings it up over your head before biting at your neck hungrily. "Is this okay?" He asked between nips.

"I'm healed, Rafe. Don't be gentle." You tell him.

He kisses his way down your body until he reaches your jeans. He's quick to undo the buttons and pull them to the floor along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed to him.

You bite your lip as his eyes flicker up to yours. "You're fucking dripping, baby girl." He smiles.

He brings one of your legs over his shoulder, your back still pressed to the wall as he slides his tongue over the length of your pussy.

"Oh, fuck!" You pant, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He slides his middle finger inside you as his tongue dances around your clit.

You could feel yourself coming undone at the sensation.

He slides a second finger into you and you almost collapse but he brings his hand up to your ass to keep you balanced.

"Rafe, oh my God-"

He pulls your other leg up over his shoulder. Rafe and the wall are the only things keeping you upright now.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says between your legs.

You could hardly contain yourself as you reached your high. His hands wrapped around your thighs as you vibrated against him.

"Fuck, Rafe!" You screamed, not caring who heard. "Oh my fucking God!"

Rafe smiled as he licked you clean. He let your legs slide off his shoulders as you relaxed.

"That's my girl," He praises as he comes up to place a kiss on your lips.

You give him the devil's grin as you fall to your knees in front of him. "Let me make you feel good, baby." You tell him as you fiddle with his zipper. When you finally free his cock from it's restraints you bite your lip and meet his gaze. "Big boy," You say before running the tip of your tongue against his length.

"Fuuuuuck," He moans.

You smile before wrapping your lips around his cock and slowly sinking him into your throat.

"Jesus Christ, baby," He gasps as he watches you swallow every inch of him.

You could feel his knees weaken as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You pulled back, drool still connecting your lips to him as you looked him in the eyes. His face was priceless, absolutely stunned at your talent.

You smirked before spitting on his dick and getting back to work.

You felt his fingers tangle through your hair, pushing his cock deeper into your throat and you accepted him.

"I'm gonna fucking cum," He panted.

You let him take control, fucking himself into your throat as you gagged on his cock. He thrusted deep into your face as he released himself. You could feel the warm liquid trickle down your throat before he pulled out.

You looked up to him and smiled as you swallowed. Mascara was running down your cheeks and cum dripping from your chin.

"Pretty girl," He smiled down at you, still clutching your hair. "Get on the bed."

You did as you were told. Rafe climbed on top of you and pressed his hand against your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin as he bit his lip. "Can I make love to you, sweetheart?"

You beamed at him, loving how sweet he was to you. "Mhmm, please." You nodded.

He lined himself up at your entrance and pushed into you slowly.

You moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He pushed your knees up before snaking his arms behind your back. You clung to him as he thrusted into you slowly.

"Beautiful, perfect angel," He whispered into your ear. Your nails dug into his shoulder as he continued to press into you.

The feeling of his cock sliding against your walls was euphoric.

"Mine," He moaned. And with that you could feel yourself come undone.

"All yours," You told him as you reached your climax. He held you tight as you vibrated against him, bringing him to his own orgasm. You sucked on his neck as you felt him fill you.

"You're a God." He whispered, resting his head on your chest.

"Let me take you higher," You hissed as you rolled over and straddled him. "I'll show you God."

[thatlittlered]

rings of power men | terms of endearment

warning(s): not even spoilers really, gn!reader

author's note: these are mostly based on my other post about tropes I am convinced these men are written for

enjoy

-.-.-

Elrond

my love, my beloved, meleth nîn, my lovely, my precious love, light of my life, my beauty, my flower, my stars and sky and many, many more

You couldn't possibly get this man to call you by name once you make your feelings clear to one another. He is a poet after all.

Gil-galad

my beloved, my dear, my darling, melethrinen/melethronen

I think that even after you are wed, Gil-galad would refrain from referring to you by your given titles, unless in public. Expressing himself in such a tender and vulnerable manner does not come easily for him, but he will genuinely try for you.

Celebrimbor

guren vell (my sweet heart), precious one, dear, my Lady/Lord

The Elven-smith has never spoken loving words before so it might take a while, but once he is assured you return his feelings, he too is surprised by how easily they roll off his tongue. He won't specify this, but when he calls you by title it is because he pictures you ruling Eregion by his side.

Arondir

guren gîn (my heart)

He is a man of few words and tends to express his affection through actions instead. Simple as it is, it overflows with emotion each time it's spoken.

Elendil

my Queen/King, my dear heart, darling, melda (beloved, dear)

For the most part, he will still refer to you by title, even in your most private moments where keen ears are nowhere to be found. It is a title of reverence by now, especially when he calls you his. You might hold his heart in your hand, but he too, is the keeper of yours.

Valandil

wife/husband

Valandil knew who he was from a very young age the two of you would be together forever since the moment you met. The rest was details. It matters little whether you are betrothed, or married or anything else; you are his and he is yours.

Isildur

love

It is not a common occurrence. It's far more common for him to whisper your name with honey practically dripping from his mouth when he is calling out for you. He does however love and need being called all sorts of sweet names and that is mostly the reason why he cannot come up with any of his own. His mind goes blank.

bonus:

Adar

enda óma (heart of my heart)

He is a man who is very protective of all he deems his and you are no different. Your size, your strength, your fighting capabilities matter not, he will always view you as a beautiful, fragile thing he's come to care for and will do anything to guard from harm.

[tinyluvs]

⁺‧₊˚ sound it out 𖤐 dew & aether ˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; dewdrop + aether + sounding = 3k word smut ❥ warnings; sounding, light bondage, submissive aether, slight orgasm denial?, tiny bit of hair pulling, idk how to tag anymore ❥ authors note; haven’t written smut in over a year, be nice pls ❥ wc; 3.1k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a glint of metal flashes between dews fingers, “fuck aeth,” he groans, flipping the rod around in his hand, “you’re sure you wanna do this?” he asks, stepping between aethers thighs. he’s giving him an out, an escape, not that aether would ever take it

“please,” aether whimpers, eyes fixed on dews hand. he rolls his hips up, a futile attempt at getting some friction on his painfully hard cock. he’s been hard, leaking profusely for far too long, “please, touch me, dew,”

dew growls, watching closely as his mate struggles against the bounds around his wrists, keeping him sat, mostly, still against the chair he’s on. another flash of metal and aether whines, desperate and needy, cheeks puffing out with air

it’s been hours, aether thinks in the back of his mind. hours since dew tied him up, hours of dew touching him, running his hands all over his body, conveniently bypassing aethers cock. everytime he got stupidly hopeful that dew would wrap thin skilful fingers around him, he didn't. aether is almost at his limit, about to start begging

but, he doesn't have to because dew is dropping to his knees between his thick trembling thighs, lithe fingers wrapping around aethers fat cock. dew gives a slow tug, groaning quietly to himself when aether throbs in his hand

“get yourself wet for me,” dew grunts, sinking fangs into his bottom lip and swiping the pad of his thumb over aethers already wet slit, shiny and flushed a gorgeous deep purple.

aether groans at the sudden contact, his stomach tenses and his cock kicks in dews little hand, pre spurting from the tip but before it can drip, slide down over dews knuckles, the fire ghoul is bringing the rod to it

luckily the metal is warm after being held in dews fist for so long. he flicks his wrist gently, swirling the shiny rounded tip through aethers mess, “there you go,” dew smirks, dragging out the last word as aether continues to leak and whimper softly

it’s a slow, torturous movement. a slide of smooth metal around and around in circles on aethers engorged head until dew is dipping the rod against aethers hole, both ghouls groaning at the wet sound it makes when dew pulls the rod away

“droplet,” aether whimpers through gritted teeth. his thighs tense, knees knocking against dews shoulders, “please, do it, plea-”

aethers desperate ramble gets cut off, replaced by a loud choked moan when dew pushes the end of the metal rod past his tip. it disappears into aethers cock, only centimetres but aether whimpers at the sudden, slight stretch, “oh f-fuck,”

dews eyes stay transfixed on aethers cock, one of his hands wrapped around the base, keeping it still while his other hand keeps the rod in place, allowing his mate to get used to the feeling of it

the quint ghoul shifts, hips bucking up slightly as his hands curl into fists behind his back, “move, please,” aether whines, trying to buck his hips up even further

instead of following aethers whine, dew does the opposite, pulling the rod out completely. aether hisses through his teeth in protest, “i know, it’s coming back,” dew provides, giving aether a slow stroke which forces another bead of pre out of him

the bounds around aethers wrists tighten when he pulls on them, he could rip through them, his sheer size and strength would make it far too easy but he won't, he's in safe hands, he trusts dew

he holds his breath in anticipation, watches through heavy lidded eyes as dew gets comfortable on his knees. the smaller ghoul reaches behind himself, pulling his shirt off to shove it under his knees to act as a poor attempt at cushioning

“ready?” dew asks, leaning forwards to kitten lick at the underneath of aethers tip, letting it rest heavy on his tongue and groaning deep in his chest when aether spurts against his warm lips, dew takes that as a yes

he leans back, licking pre off of his lips and then the rod returns, slipping into aethers cock once more, this time though, dew pushes it in further, inches it into aethers tight little hole until only half of the rod is visible

“dew,” aether moans, throwing his head back. dew growls, snaps his fangs together as his tail winds around aethers calf, spade roaming up and down in what should be a soothing manner, though to aether it feels rather teasing “s-shit,”

“feel good?” dew smirks, watching as pre erupts from aethers tip around the rod, spilling down his length and over dews knuckles. aether nods, breathless and panting slightly, eyes focused on dew, “yeah? what if i do this?”

dew holds the rod between his finger and thumb and starts to twist it slowly, “de-, oh shit,” aether pants, eyes squeezing shut, “feels so fucking good,” he chokes out before sinking his fangs into his bottom lip, hips bucking up into the air

the fire ghoul watches from his place between aethers thighs. watches as his mates head tips back, jaw dropping in a silent moan. watches as his hips roll, his back arching away from the backrest of the wooden chair

around aethers leg, dews tail winds higher and higher, squeezing around a thick thigh before unraveling completely, suspending itself briefly in the space between the two ghouls.

aether isn’t looking, can’t, otherwise he will cum. seeing dew on his knees in front of him under any circumstances will send aether over the edge faster than he would like to admit. but, dew on his knees fucking a little metal rod into him? aether would be a minute man at best

dew however, takes the opportunity while aether isn’t looking. he continues to twist the rod, reveling in the little gasps aether makes but his tail gets closer to aether, spade hovering dangerously over his mates fat balls

the spade dives in, like it has a mind of it's own, nudging and dragging over aethers heavy sack, “fuck!” aether shouts, probably loud enough for any other poor unsuspecting ghoul in the den to hear him. his entire body clenches, wrists pulling against the ties, “fuck,” he repeats, a whispered whimper this time

the bigger of the ghouls is starting to struggle, a burning heat forming low in his stomach as he wills himself to look at his mate, eyes burning and watering, tears threatening to spill. his mouth opens, jaw slack, but no noise comes out

dew slides his hand from aethers base to his tip, thumb pressing lightly against the bump under aethers skin where the rod sits, the former grunts in response and then, “think you can take the whole thing?”

the innocence in dews voice is faux, dripping with it as he cocks his head to the side, staring up at aether with wide eyes, his tongue darting over his bottom lip as he does. he continues to drag his hand up and down aethers wet cock, refusing to move the rod even an inch

aethers cock jerks in dews hand, “yes, fuck i can, make me take it,” he rambles, blinking wetly at his partner. dews tail returns to it's earlier place, winding around aethers calf, spade drifting up and down gently

without much warning dew starts to withdraw the rod, twisting as he goes before pushing it back in, fucking it further and further into aethers littlest hole. the rod slides in and out of him smoothly, a wet slide that has the bigger of the boys panting, precum doing it's best to spurt out around the metal, “almost there,” dew groans, his own hips sliding forwards, jeans starting to get uncomfortably tight, “aeth look,”

in aether’s haze he somehow manages to look, heavy lidded eyes traveling down dews slight body and between his own legs just as dew lets the last few inches of the rod disappear into him, the entire thing pressed into his cock, “fuck, fuck fuck,” aether groans loudly as the rod presses against something deep inside of him, his entire body tenses, pushing the rod back out a few centimetres

dew moans, his thumb pressing down over the end of the rod until the pad of his finger is flush with aethers slit, sliding it back and forth gently before dragging a knuckle down the bump until he’s brushing against aethers balls

“lucifer below, look at you,” the fire ghoul whistles low, eyes focused on his mates cock. above him, aether whimpers, thighs trembling, vibrating. slowly, dew rises from his spot on the floor, standing to his full height between aethers legs

aether silently stares at him, eyelashes wet and clumped together. dew steps forward, getting a knee up onto the edge of the chair, sliding his thigh forward until aethers cock is resting against harsh denim, a damp spot forming almost immediately

thin fingers brush through aethers hair, he trills and leans into dews touch, cheek slightly brushing against dews wrist until dews fingers are gripping at his hair, blunt nails pressing against his scalp. dew tilts aethers head back, barely allowing him to whimper before he’s on him

dew kisses him hard and dirty, licking straight into aethers open mouth. aether doesn’t really kiss back as much as he just moans and lets dew take. sharp fangs nip against aethers bottom lip until their kiss is metallic and wet, “you,” dew pants, pausing to suck on aethers lip, “are so fucking good,”

suddenly, dew pulls back, lust driven and groaning as he shoves his jeans down, kicking them across the floor, discarded, “dew,” aether whimpers, a silent beg for him to come back, to touch him, to let him cum

“i know, i-i’ve gotta,” dew pauses, pupils blown wide, hands hovering at his waist as he looks at aether “gotta, fuck,” he mumbles, shoving his boxers down his legs too, exposing his own cock

dews cock is painfully hard, deep red, almost purple at the tip. a bead of precum runs down the underside of his length, dripping off and onto the floor before dew can wrap his fist around himself

jerks once, twice and then three times before he invades aethers personal space again, slotting himself over one of his mates thighs. aethers head rolls, forehead bumping against dews shoulder, a deep groan bubbling out of his throat when dew grinds, dragging slick over his skin

“please,” aether slurs, digging his fangs against dew’s collarbone, the latter tips his head back and hisses in return, “need’a cum so bad,” his beg is emphasized by his cock kicking between them, smearing pre against dews sharp hipbone

the fire ghoul growls low, “i'm not done with you yet, sorry,” he grins, unapologetic, before dragging a hand down aethers broad chest, pinching lightly at the soft skin underneath aethers navel. his hand gets lower and lower until it’s wrapping around where aether needs him most, groaning when the rod presses into his palm from the inside

“push it out,” dew orders, free hand squeezing tight around the base of his own cock. aether sobs, lets his head roll back as his body tenses, forcing the metal rod out enough for dew to get his fingers on it

dew twists the rod, neither pushing nor pulling yet, just letting it twist and drag inside of aether, “look how well you're taking it,” he says, pulling the rod up until only the tip rests in aethers hole

the quint ghouls chest heaves but he makes no attempt to look down, his head still tilted back, eyes staring at a specific spot on the ceiling. he whimpers high, feminine, before his voice cracks, breaking off into a deep moan when the rod is suddenly pushed back into him. he tries to roll his hips up but with dew sat so high on his thigh, he’s trapped against the chair

dew rolls his eyes, free hand reaching up to grab at aethers chin, forcefully tilting his head down, “no, i said look,” he huffs against aethers neck, nipping at the shell of his ear, “look exactly how well you're taking it,”

aethers balls start to draw up, the image in front of him being far too much to take. dews skinny thighs either side of his thicker one, dews fingers twisting and pushing down on the rod, dews cock bobbing between them, forgotten about, “i’ll cum, dew, i swear” aether warns, panicked and rushed

“not until i say so,” dew sing songs, thumb pressing on the tip of the rod until it disappears again and then, he takes both hands off of aether completely, “soon though,” he mumbles, his palm sliding against aethers tip, rubbing round in circular motions

aether wails, veins in his neck straining so hard dew momentarily debates sinking his fangs in. dews palm is warm but aethers tip is hot, pulsing and throbbing, sensitivity pushed straight to a hundred as dew doesn’t let up, stopping only for a second before restarting the circular motion in the opposite direction

“dew,” aether chokes, tears streaming down his cheeks, “baby, please, let me cum, i nee- oh, need to so bad,” he starts to wriggle, thrash as best as he can without bucking dew off of him and onto the floor. soft material digs into his wrists harshly when he pulls on them, hissing hard at the slight pain

now, while dew is the furthest thing from a saint he has an incredibly large soft spot for aether and while he would love to continue this game far into the night, keep his mate on edge for hours to come, though he would never admit it, dew is hurtling towards his own orgasm at light speed. hours of teasing, foreplay and aether hitting him all at once

he reaches around aether, tugging on the end of the tie until it’s slipping free and falling to the floor. before aether can get his hands on dew, squeeze at his waist until his fingers are completely surrounding him and touching, dew grabs his wrists, “do not touch yourself,” he orders, bringing one of aethers hands down to his own cock

aether pants, dances his fingertips over dews slit, getting his fingers wet before he slides his fist from tip to root, pinky finger brushing against dews sack, “fucking hell, o-oh shit,” dew moans, grinding his hips forward, fucking his cock through aethers tight fist

“uh huh,” aether pants, brain turning to mush, his own quint bleeding into his veins and judging by the slight purple tinge in dews eyes, he’s feeling it too, his head tipping back while he uses aether to get himself off

suddenly, dew flies forward, crushes his mouth against aethers, a clash and clang of teeth, tongues pressing together messily. aethers free hand winds into dews hair, blonde strands wrapping around his fingers though he doesn't pull, just holds him there

“push it out again,” dew mumbles against aethers lips, palm finally coming to a stop over aethers throbbing tip, pressing down so the rod couldn't come out anyway, “c’mon, do it,”

“i can’t” aether sobs, salty tears slipping down his cheeks and between their lips.

dew growls, snapping at aethers bottom lip, “you can and you will,” he says pressing his thumb against the bump, he rubs up and down, coaxing aether to push the metal out. dews free hand drops to aethers balls again, letting them rest heavy in his palm, “do it and then i’ll let you cum”

through a whimper aether tenses, rolls his hips up and bumps dews palm out of the way. the rod slips free, an inch at most before aether is panting, “i can't, please, dew, help,” he cries, fist halting around dews cock

if dew wasn't on the edge of his own orgasm he would’ve said no, told aether to do it himself but he can't wait and neither can aether. he grunts, works his hand up aethers length until he's getting a hold of the rod, pulling on it slowly

in his other hand aethers balls draw up, somehow getting heavier in dews palm. aethers hand practically flies over dews cock, filling the room with wet, slick sounds, mixed with both ghouls panting, chests heaving and then, the sound of the little metal rod slipping free of aethers wet tip and hitting the floor with a little metallic clang

dew gets his fist around aether, a mirror image of what aether is doing to him, hands sliding up and down each other with earnest, “cum for me aeth,” dew pants, “fucking squirt for me, make a mess,” he all but begs, nudging his hand against aethers balls, rolling them between his fingers

aether doesn't put up a fight, simply throws his head back and howls, spilling thick and hot over dews knuckles. managing to splatter up both of their stomachs. dew groans, still working his hand over aether, “cum, please cum,” aether sobs, body starting to shake from overstimulation even though his cock is still spitting

quintessence zaps up dews spine, forcing his orgasm out of him before he can even open his mouth, his head rolls forward onto aethers shoulder, “f-fuck,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips up into aethers, slightly looser, fist

his cock throbs, jerks and then he’s adding to the mess, shooting his load with a wail, cum drips down his own chest and then runs down over aethers hand, thick drips covering his knuckles

overstimulation threatens them both, leaving them to slump against each other, aethers clean hand drapes around dews waist, pulling him close to stop him sliding off of his lap, dews body getting heavier in his hold

neither ghoul is entirely sure how long they stay like that, both of their cocks starting to soften while cum slowly dries over their hands and bodies. aether makes the first move, somehow recovering faster than dew.

he kisses dews forehead, “bath?” he asks, twisting the end of dews hair around his fingers while his cum stained hand tickles up his thigh, “dewy?”

dew hums, blissed out and hazy from his orgasm, swaying gently as he leans against aether, “carry me?” he asks, lips moving against aethers collarbone, mouthing softly

aether chuckles, his body gently jerking dew as he does, “i’m not sure if i can even stand up,” aether grunts a little, tightening an arm around dew before arching his back, letting it crack in at least three places, a soft groan of relief escaping him

“only one way to find out,” dew supplies lightly, throwing an arm over aethers shoulder and around his neck. aether huffs and moves dew until he’s fully seated on his lap, knees pressing against aethers hips

“okay but if we both fall over, it’s not my fault,”

“sure thing big guy,”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

lemme know if you see any mistakes, tia ♡

[jetii]

By Your Name

Part One

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 7,998/19,226

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, good-natured brotherly teasing, smut, this is mostly just smut actually, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), size kink, aftercare, dirty talk, Wrecker being a sweetheart that is a given

Summary: You and Wrecker are still figuring out exactly what your relationship means, and a month apart hasn't helped. Now that you're reunited again, nothing is going to stand in the way of the two of you getting what you want.

A/N: Greetings from horny jail! I didn't proofread this one that much so if you see any mistakes no you didn't.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Keeping your relationship with Wrecker a secret is easier said than done. There's no denying the spark between the two of you, and it only seemed to grow stronger in the days following your confession. To you, Wrecker is the sun, and you're a planet caught in his orbit, drawn in by his warmth and light. 

It's become increasingly difficult to keep things professional when all you want to do is pull him into a kiss, or spend every waking moment touching him in some way. Every time his fingers brush yours, or his hand finds the small of your back, the desire to kiss him, to hold him, to simply be with him is nearly overwhelming. And it's a feeling that only grows stronger the longer you're away from him.

Saying goodbye to Wrecker at the end of your tour with the Batch had been almost unbearable, and the distance has been agonizing. The weeks apart had dragged on, and the only solace you had was in the late-night calls and the occasional text. The longing had been a constant companion, and it had left you irritable and on edge.

But now, finally, the two of you will be reunited, and the excitement building in your chest is impossible to ignore. Even though it's been weeks since the two of you were last together, it feels like a lifetime, and you can't wait to be near him again. To feel his arms around you, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours.

The two of you had barely had enough time to figure out what exactly you are to each other before you left, and with the others around, there was little else you could do beyond a few stolen moments. But now, after weeks of anticipation and separation, you're finally getting the chance to explore things further.

And you know Wrecker is intent on making the most of the opportunity.

It was no secret that the man is incredibly tactile, and the fact that he'd been unable to touch you the way he wanted to, the way you both needed him to, had clearly taken a toll. His texts had grown progressively bolder, and the calls had lasted well into the night, and you'd spent hours on the comm with him, trying to keep your voice down while he told you everything he planned on doing to you once you were alone.

And now, you're on the same planet, finally, and the thought is enough to drive you crazy. You're already waiting in the hangar bay when the Marauder arrives, and the sight of it, the sight of him, sends a thrill of anticipation through you. The moment the ship touches down, the ramp lowers, and Wrecker comes barreling down, his arms outstretched.

"Hey, General!" he shouts. "Get ready, 'cause I'm gonna—"

You don't wait for him to finish. Instead, you throw yourself into his arms, and he catches you with ease, his arms wrapping around you, lifting you up off the ground. He spins you around, the two of you laughing and grinning like fools, and you're so happy you can barely breathe.

"Miss me?" you ask, breathless, your arms around his neck.

"Kriff, yeah," he says. "Wasn't the same without you."

"It wasn't the same for me, either," you murmur. "I didn't realize how much I would miss having you around."

"Me, neither," he replies.

He sets you down, but his arms stay locked around your waist, holding you close. The urge to kiss him is a physical ache, and the closeness is almost unbearable. But you can't, not here, not now, and so you settle for the feel of his arms around you, his hands stroking your back.

"I'm glad to see you," he says, his voice soft.

"I missed you, too," you reply, smiling up at him.

"I can't wait to show you how much I missed you," he whispers. The look in his eyes, the heat in his voice, sends a rush of desire through you, and you shiver. "Been thinkin' about it every day."

"Have you?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "And I've got a few ideas."

"Oh?" you ask, unable to keep the smile off your face. He's practically radiating energy, the excitement rolling off him in waves, and it's infectious.

Before he can respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you back to reality. The two of you turn, and you spot the others standing a short distance away at the end of the ramp. Crosshair and Tech look mildly amused, while Hunter looks vaguely uncomfortable, and Echo's expression is one of long-suffering annoyance.

"Uh, Wrecker," Hunter says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You mind putting her down so we can go?"

"What?" Wrecker asks. "Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He lets go of you, his hands trailing over your waist as he steps back. You brush your hands across your tunic, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach, and Wrecker grins down at you.

"Sorry," you say, unable to keep the smile off your face. "It's been a while."

"Just save it for the ship,” Crosshair drawls as he passes by.

"Don’t worry, we will," Wrecker fires back, throwing an entirely unnecessary wink in his direction. Crosshair rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Tech follows, shaking his head with a small smile.

"I am glad that the two of you have reconciled your differences," he says, his eyes flicking to yours. "But please keep such displays of affection to a minimum in our presence.”

"Sorry, Tech.”

"We'll behave," Wrecker adds, but his tone is teasing.

"I doubt that," Echo mutters, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners. You flush, but can't help but return the smile. He's not wrong, after all.

"We'll try," you amend, and the others chuckle as they follow Crosshair out of the hangar toward the barracks. You and Wrecker walk a short distance behind them, keeping pace, and the silence is comfortable, the two of you walking shoulder to shoulder. He leans over and nudges your arm, and you glance up at him, catching the grin on his face.

You smile back, unable to hide your excitement, and the look in his eyes is almost enough to make your knees give out. You have no idea how you're going to get through the rest of the day, knowing that he's within arm's reach. Knowing that tonight, when the others have gone to sleep, the two of you will have the ship to yourselves. And the thoughts running through your mind are enough to have you squirming in place, eager for the day to end.

"Welcome back, by the way," you say, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

"Glad to be back," Wrecker says. "And ready to start celebrating."

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" you tease.

"Mhm," he replies, his voice low and rough. "Gonna celebrate the kriff outta you."

You bite back a gasp, and your face heats up. You'd known Wrecker was forward, but the way he talks about wanting you, the way he openly stares at you, is still startling. No one has ever been so open with their feelings before, and while you're still getting used to the idea, it's nice. Reassuring. It's a reminder that this is real, that he wants you, and it's all you can do not to melt on the spot.

"Sounds like a good plan," you reply, your voice hoarse, and you resist the urge to fan yourself.

"Knew you'd see it my way," he says, and the look he gives you is enough to send a jolt of heat straight to your core.

The two of you continue on in comfortable silence, and you can't help but glance at him, taking in the sight of Wrecker finally back by your side. You can't deny that the past few weeks have been...frustrating. Being unable to be near him, or touch him, or even speak openly about how you feel has been agonizing. And the constant teasing and flirting via holo hasn't helped.

There are so many things you've wanted to say, to do, but haven't had the chance. Now, with the privacy and space, the temptation is nearly overwhelming. And the look on Wrecker's face tells you that he's thinking the same thing. You just need to get through the next couple hours without drawing too much attention, and then...

As expected, the celebration is a simple affair, a meal and a round or two of drinks at 79s. You've gotten used to the squad's traditions over the past year, and it's a relief to know that the evening won't drag on for hours. As it is, your patience is wearing thin, and you can tell that Wrecker feels the same.

"So," Hunter starts, his eyes fixed on the two of you. "Did you have a chance to talk about things while we were away?"

"Yeah, a bit," Wrecker says, shifting in his seat. His leg brushes against yours, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. "Still workin' things out."

"I see," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, his gaze flicking between the two of you, and he raises an eyebrow. "Just try not to make it too obvious, okay?"

"I'm not making any promises," Wrecker smirks, and the words are directed at his brother, but the way his eyes burn into you is unmistakable. You bite your lip, the heat on your cheeks nearly unbearable. The fact that he's so brazen, so shameless, is doing nothing to help your growing desire, and it's all you can do to keep a straight face.

"Wrecker, please," Echo groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Sorry, sorry," Wrecker chuckles, and his hand finds your thigh beneath the table, his fingers squeezing gently. You resist the urge to jump, trying to ignore the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of your pants. You can tell he's teasing, testing the boundaries, and the look on his face is almost smug. "I'll behave."

"No, you won't," Tech says, his eyes locked on his datapad. "But I suppose we will simply have to accept that this is your current reality."

"Guess so," Wrecker says, and the smile he gives you is blinding.

The rest of the meal is relatively uneventful, and the conversation is light, mostly centered around the mission, and what's to come. The Republic is preparing for another offensive, and you and the Batch have been assigned to gather intel on a possible Separatist stronghold in the Outer Rim. It's not an ideal mission, but it's better than sitting around doing nothing. And with Wrecker by your side, it will certainly be more bearable.

You listen as the others share stories, laughing and talking like they always do. Wrecker's hand stays on your thigh, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your leg, and it's enough to keep you distracted, the anticipation growing with every passing minute. By the time the meal is finished, you're all but squirming in your seat, and you're desperate to get out of the crowded room.

"What about you?" Crosshair asks, and the sound of his voice pulls you back to the present. "Did you sit around doing nothing this whole time?"

"No," you reply. "I was training, mostly."

"Boring," Crosshair sneers, but his eyes are soft, and the look he gives you is teasing.

"I did manage to get a new scar, if that counts," you say, pointing to the healing cut above your eyebrow. "Had a run-in with a particularly unpleasant bounty hunter. She was faster than she looked."

"Ooh, lemme see," Wrecker says, and his hand finds your chin, tilting your face up. The gesture is casual, but the way his fingers stroke your cheek is not, and you shiver at the touch. He turns your face, his thumb brushing the healing skin, and the heat of his palm sears into your cheek. "Pretty nasty. You gonna live?"

"I think so," you manage, and his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Good," he says. "Don't want anything happenin' to that pretty face of yours."

Someone makes a noise of protest, but you're too busy trying not to melt under Wrecker's gaze to notice who it was. His eyes flick over your features, his expression intense, and his fingers trail down the line of your jaw, coming to rest on your shoulder.

"Alright," Hunter cuts in. He slaps his hands on the table and stands, giving the two of you a pointed look. "Let's call it a night."

"But—"

"No buts," he says. "I can't watch this any longer."

Wrecker grumbles something under his breath, but he pulls his hand away, and the absence is nearly enough to make you whine.

"Fine," he huffs, rising from his seat. "See you all tomorrow."

You stand as well, your legs shaking. You're not sure how you're going to make it back to the ship, and the smirk on Wrecker's face tells you that he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Later," Crosshair says, his tone bored.

"Have a good night," Echo calls after you, his voice tight with discomfort. You glance back at him and offer an apologetic shrug, but he just waves you off. Tech is still buried in his datapad, oblivious, and Hunter gives you a long-suffering sigh as the two of you leave.

The walk back to the ship is agony. The sun has long since set, and the streets are dark, but the lights of the city are bright enough that it's not difficult to navigate. Still, the journey feels like an eternity, and every step sends a thrill of anticipation through your veins. You can feel Wrecker's presence behind you, his hand occasionally brushing against your back, his body close enough to touch.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you ask as the two of you round the corner, putting some distance between yourselves and the others.

"Enjoying what?" he asks innocently.

"Teasing me," you reply, elbowing him in the side.

"Maybe a little," he grins, and the heat in his gaze makes you blush. "You know, it's hard not to be when you react like that."

"React like what?

"Like this," he murmurs, his hand sliding down your spine, coming to rest on the curve of your ass. His palm is hot and heavy, and the pressure is enough to make you gasp.

"I can't help it," you mutter, trying to ignore the desire that's pooling in your core.

"I know," he says, and his fingers squeeze, pulling you into his side. "And it's kriffing adorable."

"Shut up," you say, pushing against him. He laughs, the sound low and husky, and the way his eyes gleam in the dim light is more than a little distracting.

"Make me," he says, and his voice is teasing, but there's a note of challenge in it, and the implication sends a shiver down your spine. 

You turn to face him, and before you can second guess yourself, you reach out, taking hold of his armor and pulling him towards you.

Wrecker's lips meet yours in a searing kiss, and the force of it knocks the wind out of you. He backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his body, and his hands find your hips, lifting you up onto the tips of your toes. You moan against his mouth, and his tongue slips past your lips, his fingers digging into your flesh. The kiss is bruising, full of heat and want, and the way he moves against you, his body hard and solid, leaves you gasping for air.

He breaks the kiss, and his teeth nip at your lower lip, his hands wandering down, squeezing the swell of your ass. His breath is hot on your skin, his chest heaving, and the desire in his eyes is all-consuming.

"That shut you up," you whisper as his lips move down the column of your throat.

"Mhm," he mumbles. His tongue drags over the delicate skin, and you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Keep doin' that, and I'll be quiet the rest of the night."

You laugh, the sound turning into a groan as his teeth sink into your flesh, biting down. His hands slide around to your back, pulling you flush against him, and his knee slips between your legs. The pressure against your core is enough to make you moan, and he chuckles against your skin.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing," you whisper, trying to catch your breath.

"Not the only one," he murmurs, his eyes finding yours. The hunger in his gaze makes your blood sing, and you swallow, trying to steady your pulse.

"True," you say, reaching up to cup his cheek. "But I'm not sure we should keep playing it. At least not until we get back to the ship."

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth. You open for him, and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head, holding you steady.

"Good point," he whispers as he pulls away, his nose brushing against yours.

"Come on," you say, and you nudge him backwards. Wrecker goes willingly, stumbling back a step, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's go."

The two of you pick up the pace, and it's not long before you're making your way through the hangar bay towards the Marauder. There are a few people milling about the hangar, and a group of technicians working on a nearby ship, but none of them pay the two of you any attention as you approach the ramp.

The moment the door closes behind you, Wrecker pounces, pinning you against the wall, his mouth finding yours in a hungry kiss. You pull him closer, and he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up with ease. Your legs lock around his waist, and his hands slide down to grip the underside of your thighs, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin.

You break the kiss, your lungs screaming, and he moves down, pressing hot, wet kisses to the line of your throat. His mouth is warm and slick, his tongue leaving a burning trail along your collarbone. His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he pushes the fabric up, exposing your stomach.

"You really gonna keep quiet the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

"Do you want me to?" he murmurs, his nose brushing against the skin beneath your ear.

"Not particularly," you reply.

"Didn't think so," he says, and his teeth scrape against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You wanna know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you like it," he growls. His hands slip beneath your shirt, his palms sliding up the curve of your waist. "I think you like it when I tell you how pretty you are, or how much I want you."

"Maybe," you whisper.

"It's okay," he murmurs, his fingers dancing across your skin. "I like it, too."

You moan, the sound soft and needy, and he laughs, the vibrations tickling the sensitive spot below your ear. Wrecker's mouth finds yours again, his tongue plunging past your lips. He tastes like the liquor the two of you were drinking earlier, and the heady mixture is enough to make your head spin.

He breaks the kiss, and the next thing you know, he's carrying you down the hall, his pace hurried. Within a few steps, the two of you are falling onto the bunk, a tangle of limbs.

You land on top of him, straddling his waist, and Wrecker groans, his hands coming to rest on your hips. You grind down against him, the movement sending a rush of heat through your body. The contact is dizzying, and you do it again, relishing the way his eyes flutter closed.

"Kriff, cyare," he breathes.

"I thought I was cyar'ika," you murmur.

"Both. Either. Doesn't matter," he says, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

"I think it matters" you say, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"You really wanna talk about Mando'a right now?" he asks, and the amusement in his voice makes you laugh. You pull back enough to let him pull the shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare save for your breast band.

"I guess not. I'd rather do something else," you whisper, and Wrecker's eyes darken, his pupils dilating. His gaze trails over your chest, and his hands follow suit, tracing the line of your ribs.

"Me too," he murmurs. His fingers ghost across the band of fabric covering your breasts, teasing the edges. You give a slight nod, and he hooks a finger underneath the material, pulling it up and over your head.

Your breasts bounce free, and his eyes lock on them, his gaze burning. His hands slide up your sides, cupping the swell of flesh, his palms hot and rough.

"Mesh'la," he murmurs. He leans forward, his lips finding the slope of your shoulder. "So kriffing beautiful."

The praise makes you blush, and he kisses his way down the length of your chest, his lips trailing over the curve of your breast. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as he licks a circle around your nipple, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail.

"Wrecker," you whimper, and the sound seems to spur him on. His mouth finds your breast, his lips closing around the tight bud, his tongue swirling. You moan, the feeling electric, and he hums in response, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

He sucks and bites at the stiff peak, his fingers rolling the other, and the twin sensations send a rush of heat through your body. It's almost too much, and you can't help but squirm, the desire pooling in your core. Wrecker’s armor presses against your thighs, the pressure almost painful, and the need to feel his skin on yours is overwhelming.

"Take it off," you pant, tugging at the shoulder plates.

"Bossy," he chuckles, and the sound sends a jolt of excitement through you.

"I think you like it," you say, throwing his own words back at him, and the wicked grin he gives you is all the answer you need.

"You're right," he replies. He reaches behind him, unclipping the pieces of his armor and setting them aside. The process is painstakingly slow, and you can't help but pout. But when you try to move his hands out of the way, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the mattress.

"Hey!"

"I'm going," he says, a grin on his face. "Don't worry."

Wrecker stands, and the sight of him towering above you, his broad frame blocking out the light, is enough to make you tremble. He strips off the pieces of armor with practiced efficiency, revealing the black undersuit beneath. You stare at him, your eyes roaming over the thickly corded muscles of his arms and chest, the taut fabric stretched across his abdomen.

"See somethin' you like?" he teases, and the sound of his voice draws you back to reality.

"Yes," you say, clearing your throat.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you repeat with a smile.

"Good," he says. He kneels before you, his fingers finding the hem of your pants. He undoes the button, and you lift your hips, letting him slide the fabric down.

He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes trailing over the curves of your body. He hums in approval, his hand sliding up your leg, his fingers stroking the inside of your thigh.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

You watch as his hand slips lower, and his thumb finds the edge of your underwear, the touch light and teasing. The sensation is enough to make you gasp, and he does it again, tracing a line along the seam. Your legs part instinctively, and his hand cups the apex of your thighs, his palm pressing against the damp fabric.

"You want more?" he asks, and the huskiness of his voice is enough to make you ache.

"Yes," you breathe.

He pulls the underwear off, and you lie back, spreading your legs, giving him a clear view of the most intimate parts of you. He groans at the sight, his eyes raking over the soft flesh, and his hands grip your knees, pushing them further apart. You feel exposed, but the look on his face is nothing short of reverent, and the desire in his eyes is enough to take your breath away.

"Mesh'la," he whispers, and then his head is between your legs, his tongue finding the sensitive flesh. The contact is electric, and you moan, the sound muffled by your fist. Wrecker chuckles, his eyes locking on yours as his mouth continues its work. His lips and tongue are soft and warm, and his fingers grip your hips, pulling you closer.

"Stars, Wrecker," you whimper, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body. You gasp, and he smiles, his mouth never leaving the apex of your thighs. His tongue traces circles around the stiff bud, his fingers stroking the delicate skin.

You squirm under his ministrations, the sensation nearly overwhelming, and he holds you steady, his hands like steel. You grip the sheets, trying to ground yourself, but it's a futile effort. Wrecker is relentless, his mouth devouring every inch of flesh, his tongue probing, his teeth scraping, and the heat pooling in your belly threatens to consume you.

"Wrecker, I can't—"

He stops, pulling away with a wet smack. His face is glistening, his eyes burning, and the sight of him is enough to steal the words from your lips.

"Tell me," he growls, his hands tightening on your thighs.

"I can't—"

"Can't what, cyar’ika?" he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm on the skin of your neck.

"Can't wait," you manage. "Please."

He laughs, his fingers stroking the sensitive flesh of your thighs. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and his hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding the apex of your folds. You groan, the contact almost too much to bear, and his fingers tease the edge, sliding along the slick skin.

"I'm gonna take my time with you," he says, his voice rough. "Gonna learn every inch of your body, every place that makes you feel good. And I'm gonna do it until you're a kriffing mess."

The words send a rush of heat through your body, and you can't help but arch into his touch, your hips rising off the bed. He grins, his fingers parting the slick folds, and you bite back a moan as he slides the digits along the length of the slit.

"So wet," he says, and the pride in his voice is obvious. "Mesh'la."

He leans down, his tongue darting out, tracing the same path his fingers had just followed. Wrecker takes his time, his mouth exploring every inch of the exposed flesh. By the time his tongue reaches the sensitive bud, you're trembling, the pleasure almost unbearable. His fingers press against your entrance, and you nod, giving him the go-ahead.

He slips a finger inside, and you clench around him, the feeling almost foreign. It’s been so long since you've done anything like this, and the stretch is unfamiliar, the sensation a strange combination of pleasure and discomfort. He moves slowly, his lips and tongue distracting you from the intrusion, and the discomfort fades, the pressure turning into a delicious fullness.

"You okay?" he asks, looking up at you, his lips still pressed against the apex of your thighs.

"Mhm," you reply, and you roll your hips, letting him know you're ready for more. He grins, and he presses another finger in, his tongue swirling around the stiff bud. The stretch is almost too much, and you gasp, the pleasure making your head spin.

Wrecker moves slowly, his fingers curling, probing, searching for that spot inside you. When he finds it, he rubs the tips against it, and the jolt of pleasure is enough to take your breath away.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Yes," you whimper.

"More?"

"Yes, please," you beg. "Please."

He complies, his fingers pressing deeper, and you groan, the pleasure almost too much to bear. Your thighs shake, and he hooks his free arm around one of them, pulling you closer, his lips closing around the bud.

It doesn't take long before the heat coiling in your belly becomes too much to bear, and you can't hold back the moans spilling from your lips. Wrecker keeps up the pace, his fingers pumping, his mouth devouring, and it's only a few moments before the tension snaps.

You cry out, the sound swallowed by the bulkhead, and your thighs clamp around his head, trapping him. The air seems to ripple around you, the Force flowing through you, and the room fades, replaced by blinding white light. You're weightless, drifting in the current, the pleasure rippling through your body.

When you finally come down, the room has returned to normal, and the pressure of Wrecker's mouth is nearly too much. You push him away, and he looks up at you, a smirk on his face. His lips are wet and swollen, and his eyes are bright with lust.

"That was somethin' else," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

"What did I do?" you ask, your voice shaking.

"Not sure," he replies. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out, licking away the remnants of your climax. "But I liked it."

"Oh," you manage.

"You good?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Really good. Stars, Wrecker, that was...”

"Just the beginning," he says, his hands finding your waist and flipping you onto your stomach. He pulls you up onto your knees, and the next thing you know, his tongue is on your folds again, the sensation making your legs tremble.

"Wrecker, what—"

"Told you I'd take my time," he murmurs, and his fingers slip inside you again, the pace agonizing. You groan, burying your face in the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds spilling from your lips. His hand slides up your spine, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back. "I wanna hear you."

"I can't," you whimper.

"I'll stop if you don't," he threatens. "Wanna hear how good I'm makin' you feel."

"Fine," you groan. "Don't stop. Please."

"Good girl," he says, and the words send a rush of heat straight to your core. You feel yourself clamp down around his fingers, and his other hand grips the curve of your ass, squeezing hard. "Fuck, that's hot."

You moan, the sound loud and needy, and he rewards you by sliding another finger inside. The stretch is almost painful, but the pleasure is worth it, and the thought of him inside you, filling you, sends a thrill of excitement through your body. You can't help but push back against him, grinding your hips against his face.

"Look at you," he says, and the awe in his voice is enough to bring tears to your eyes. "Fuck, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect."

His mouth returns to its work, his tongue licking and sucking and teasing. Your legs tremble, and his arm wraps around your waist, holding you up as his fingers plunge deeper. The pleasure is overwhelming, and the room seems to fade around you, the only thing remaining the feeling of his mouth on your sex.

You can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything except take whatever he gives you. And the thought, the knowledge that you're completely at his mercy, is intoxicating. You surrender to the feeling, allowing yourself to let go, and the release is almost instantaneous.

You cry out, the sound torn from your throat, and the force of it threatens to knock you over. But Wrecker is there, his arms steadying you, his mouth coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from you. When the waves of bliss finally subside, you slump forward, the mattress soft against your cheek.

"Holy shit," you mutter, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Yeah," Wrecker says, his hand stroking the length of your spine. He leans over you, his mouth finding the soft skin behind your ear. His tongue darts out, licking the shell, and his breath is hot on your neck. "Still with me?"

"Barely," you whisper, and the sound of his laugh sends a shiver through you. You roll over slowly to find his face inches from yours, his smile wide and wicked. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and the softness in his eyes is enough to melt your heart.

"Hi," he murmurs.

"Hey."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The tenderness is unexpected, and the taste of yourself on his mouth is more arousing than it has any right to be.

"I'm glad we're finally alone," he whispers, his nose brushing against yours. "Was about to explode."

"Mm," you reply. "Well, let's fix that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, pushing him back. He sits up, and you move with him, swinging your leg over his waist. He watches you with hungry eyes, and the desire in his expression is enough to stoke the embers of your own. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his suit, the thickness hard and insistent, and the realization of just how badly he wants you is almost too much to bear.

You lean in, your mouth finding the side of his neck, and he groans, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. You nip and bite at the exposed flesh as your hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt, and you peel the fabric up, revealing his chest. He lifts his arms, and the two of you work together to pull the garment over his head, tossing it aside.

You run your hands over his broad chest, your fingers tracing the line of his muscles, his scars, his tattoos. The expanse of his skin is a map, a landscape, and you want to explore every inch. He sighs, his eyes closing, and the contentment in his expression is beautiful. You kiss him again, and he groans, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your head.

"I could kiss you forever," he murmurs.

"That would be nice," you reply, your lips moving down his throat.

"Mhm," he hums. "But right now, I really, really wanna fuck you."

The words send a shiver of desire through you, and you pull back, giving him a smirk. You slide back, and his hands move to the closure of his suit, undoing the catches with ease. The fabric parts, revealing the thick shaft beneath. The head is dark and swollen, and a drop of precome glistens at the tip.

"Kriff," you breathe. "You're—"

"Big?" he says, grinning.

You swallow, nodding. You've felt him through his clothes, the evidence of his desire more than clear, but the reality is something else entirely. He's larger than any partner you've ever had, and the thought of taking him, of feeling him inside you, is both terrifying and exhilarating.

"That's putting it mildly."

"We can wait," he offers, his hands finding your hips, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin. "Or take things slow. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"I appreciate that," you say. "But I really, really want this."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He smiles, and his hand slips between your thighs, his fingers finding the slick skin. You gasp at the touch, rising up on your knees to pull his blacks down further. His cock springs free, the length curving up against his belly. He helps you pull the rest of the suit off, leaving the two of you bare before each other.

He sits up, his eyes raking over the planes of your body, his gaze hungry and possessive. He pulls you towards him, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, his mouth finding yours. His hands slide down your spine, cupping the swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his lips moving against yours.

"Very," you reply. You reach between the two of you, your fingers wrapping around his length. He groans, his head falling back, and his hips twitch, pushing into your grasp. Your fingers don't quite meet, the thickness impossible to fully encircle, and the size of him is daunting.

"You can change your mind," he says, and the words are choked, strained. "Just say the word."

"I won't," you say. "Trust me."

"Okay," he breathes, and the faith in his voice is enough to take your breath away. He leans back, and you raise yourself up on your knees, positioning him at your entrance. You take a deep breath, and then begin to lower yourself onto him. The head presses against the tight ring of muscle the sensation almost foreign. You press down, and the tip slips inside, the thickness stretching you.

"Shit," he mutters, his fingers gripping your hips. "Fuck, cyar'ika, you're so—"

The words turn into a loud, unrestrained groan as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. It takes time, the fullness overwhelming, but you persevere, the feeling of him inside you more intense than anything you've ever felt. The way his length fills you, stretching and stretching, the slight pain, the ache, the feeling of being whole, it's enough to drive all thoughts from your mind.

By the time Wrecker is nearly fully seated inside you, the both of you are trembling. He's panting, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. You watch him, the sight of his reaction sending a rush of excitement through your body. It's the first time you've seen him lose control, and the knowledge that it's you, that you're the cause, is exhilarating.

You shift in his lap, grinding down on his cock, and he hisses, his teeth clenched. The pressure against the walls of your cunt is almost too much to bear, and it takes everything you have not to collapse. You lift yourself up slightly, testing the limits, and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Stay still,” he growls, and the command in his voice sends a thrill through you. “Don’t move.”

"Or what?" you ask.

Wrecker opens his eyes, his gaze burning into you. There's a dangerous glint there, and the promise in his expression is almost too much to take. You swallow, unable to look away. He smirks, and his hand comes up, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you steady.

"Or I'm gonna have to fuck you into the kriffing mattress," he says, his voice rough. "You think you can handle that?"

"Maybe," you reply, and the confidence in your voice is surprising.

"Really?" he says. He shifts, his hips lifting off the mattress, and the movement pushes him deeper. The stretch is almost too much, but the sensation is exquisite, and the moan that escapes your lips is unabashedly desperate. "Sounds like you can't."

"I'm not convinced," you say, and the words come out more as a whine than a statement. Wrecker laughs, his lips curling into a smug smile. The expression should annoy you, but instead, it only adds to the heat pooling in your core. You like seeing him like this, confident and commanding, and the thought of letting him have his way with you is more than a little arousing.

"You're adorable," he says, and he tilts his head forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. You wrap your arms around him, and he pulls you closer, his other hand sliding down to the small of your back. The pressure is intoxicating, and you can't help but squirm, trying to find purchase. But he holds you steady, his mouth devouring yours.

He lifts you up, his hands gripping the curve of your ass, and his cock nearly slips out, the sudden emptiness jarring. But before you can complain, he's lowering you back down, sheathing himself inside you again.

"Oh," you whimper.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "You feel so good."

He lifts you again, and his pace is achingly slow, the movement careful, controlled. He's clearly holding back, and the knowledge that he's doing it for your benefit sends a rush of affection through you. You cup his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Wrecker," you say. "Please."

"You sure?"

"Yes," you hiss, your head tilting back as he slides home. "Please, I want—"

"Tell me what you want," he growls.

"You," you say, and the confession is more difficult than it should be. "All of you. Hard and fast and— Fuck!"

The breath leaves your lungs as he flips the two of you, his weight pinning you against the mattress. He slides a hand beneath your hips, tilting them up, and his lips find the curve of your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he growls, and then his hips snap, driving him into you. The movement is quick and powerful, and the impact reverberates through your entire body. The thrust is accompanied by a wave of pleasure, the feeling intense and all-consuming, and it takes everything you have to hold on.

"Holy shit," you mutter, your eyes squeezing shut.

"You good?" he murmurs, his hands finding yours, his fingers intertwining with your own.

"So good," you whimper. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to anchor yourself, but the motion seems to have the opposite effect. The slight shift in position is all the invitation he needs, and he drives into you again, the force enough to push you up the bed. The pleasure is almost blinding, and the room blurs, the edges of your vision darkening.

"More," you beg, the word torn from your throat.

"Anything," he breathes, and then his mouth finds yours, swallowing the moan that spills from your lips. His hips set a relentless rhythm, his cock pounding into you, the friction delicious. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, and his mouth never leaves yours, his tongue plunging past your teeth. The taste of him, the smell of him, it's enough to send you reeling, and the world around you fades, replaced by a single, searing point of pleasure.

You lose yourself in the moment, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the warmth and strength and power of him. He surrounds you, engulfs you, consumes you, and the intimacy of the act, the connection between the two of you, it's unlike anything you've ever felt. The sensation is overwhelming, and you're powerless to do anything except take whatever he gives you. You let go, surrendering yourself completely, and the feeling is almost euphoric.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Wrecker pants, and the words seem to echo, his voice distant. "Can't believe you're—fuck, cyar'ika, you're perfect."

The praise spurs you on, and the next thing you know, Wrecker is kneeling before you, pulling you towards him. His hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh, and his cock plunges deeper. You cry out, the sound echoing around the room, and he groans in response, his movements becoming erratic.

"Fuck," he grunts. His hands slide down, cupping the curve of your ass, and he lifts you off the mattress, impaling you on his cock. The angle is intense, and you can feel the tension coiling in your belly, the pressure threatening to burst.

"I'm close," you gasp, and he nods, his face twisted with pleasure. He's lost control, the steady rhythm giving way to desperate, frantic thrusts, and the knowledge that he's close to coming undone is intoxicating.

"Touch yourself," he manages. "Come on, cyar'ika, wanna feel you come on my cock."

You do as he says, reaching down and sliding your fingers through the wetness between your legs. The contact is enough to push you over the edge, and you come hard, the orgasm tearing through you. The room goes dark, the pleasure nearly blinding, and the air seems to vibrate, the Force surging through you. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except let it wash over you.

You feel yourself clamp down around Wrecker's cock, the walls of your cunt spasming, and he gasps, the sound raw and primal. He thrusts once, twice, and then his hips stutter, and he drives himself deep, the force of his climax making the bed shake. You feel his cock pulse inside you, filling you, and the warmth of his seed sends another wave of pleasure rippling through your body.

It seems to go on forever, the two of you riding out the aftershocks. You're trembling, and tears are spilling down your cheeks, but you can't bring yourself to care. You pull him close, your mouth finding his, and the kiss is sloppy, needy, the two of you too far gone to do anything except cling to each other.

When it's over, Wrecker rolls the two of you over, pulling you into his arms. His chest is rising and falling in rapid breaths, and his heart is pounding, the beat so loud you can hear it. You rest your head on his shoulder, your arm draped across his chest, and he pulls you closer, his nose buried in the top of your head.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

"That good, huh?"

"Good doesn't even cover it," he says. "Stars, that was...fuck, cyar'ika, that was somethin' else."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," he murmurs. "Fuck."

You laugh, the sound muffled by his skin. He chuckles in response, and his hand strokes your back, his fingers tracing circles on your spine. You sigh, the touch soothing, and you close your eyes, letting the tension leave your body. You're exhausted, and the thought of moving is nearly unbearable. You’re more content than you can remember being in a long, long time.

"Don't fall asleep," he says. "Not yet."

"Too late," you murmur, the words slurred.

"Hey," he says, and his tone is gentle, teasing. "At least let me get a towel or something."

"Fine," you grumble.

He laughs, and the bed shifts as he gets up, the loss of his body heat jarring. You shiver, curling into yourself, and the next thing you know, he's pressing a damp cloth between your legs. The contact is enough to wake you up, and the realization of what's happening is both embarrassing and endearing.

"Wrecker," you say, pushing his hand away. "I can do that."

"Sorry," he mutters. "Should've asked."

"It's okay," you say, and the sincerity in your voice seems to reassure him. "I just don't want you doing all the work."

"I don't mind," he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I like takin' care of you."

"And I like taking care of you," you reply. "Which is why I want you to come back to bed."

"Okay, okay," he says, smiling. He tosses the towel aside, and the bed dips as he climbs in next to you, his body pressed flush against yours. The feel of his skin on yours is soothing, and you can't help but melt into his touch. He's solid and warm and real, and the knowledge that he's here, that he wants you, is more comforting than anything else.

"Mesh'la," he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

You turn, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, his body enveloping yours, and the words come easily.

"I love you, too."

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

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

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

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

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

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

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

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

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

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

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

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive-shark

@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees

[waiting-for-motivation]

el clásico

summary: Carlos watches a football game between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona with his beloved girlfriend.

pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

warnings: fluff, some suggestive comments, teasing

words: 1002

a/n: this is my first fic since forever, so please be nice <3 (also, I would love some football and formula one requests, just check my rules :)

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

“You should pull your sweater over that terrible shirt“, Carlos whispers into his girlfriend's ear, suspiciously eyeing the emblem on her chest. He wears the jersey of Real Madrid with pride, while he can only smirk at the FC Barcelona tricot, which (Y/n) is wearing. As they look for their seats, Carlos catches a few people taking a look over their shoulder at the odd couple. Their interwoven hands are a hard contrast to the two hostile football clubs.

“Not before you take yours off“, (Y/n) comments, smiling innocently as she manages to move a hand under her boyfriend's shirt, lifting it a bit and therefore revealing his toned abs. Both laugh as Carlos fights her playfully, caging her in his strong arms and pressing her face to his chest, right against the Real Madrid emblem.

They find their seats just in time for the players to walk onto the pitch. The atmosphere in the stadium changes, everyone seems to hold their breath until loud cheers and clapping disrupt the peace. Although she barely sat down, (Y/n) jumps to her feet, pointing out every single player of Barcelona.

Carlos is mesmerized, not by his favorite club, more by his girl. His mind goes blank, staring at the passion she radiates. This kind of love, shown by a big smile and bright eyes, is usually only directed towards him. Now, seeing this unfiltered, Carlos takes no shame in gazing at his girlfriend's happiness. She is as magnificent as ever.

“Carlos?“, (Y/n) asks, confused why her boyfriend is not at her side, still seated with his big brown eyes only on her. Gratefully, Carlos takes the hand his girl is holding out for him. Standing up, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her as close as possible. Side by side, they cheer for their teams. By the time the game starts, they sit down and watch with great concentration.

“What about our little bet, mi corazón?“, Carlos asks after some time, just as a foul interrupts the game. There is a mischievous smirk on his lips as he eyes his girlfriend. (Y/n) turns to him with an unimpressed expression, already knowing what he is hinting at. The drive to the stadium was mostly overshadowed by a discussion about who would win tonight.

“This won't end well for you, Car. You are a sore loser“, (Y/n) returns, taking one of his hands and placing a soft kiss to it. This did nothing to soothe his hurt ego, only causing Carlos to lean forward and place a featherlike kiss right under her ear.

“Who said I would lose? I‘m looking forward to ripping that jersey off you, bebé“, Carlos says under his breath and against his girlfriend's neck. He presses one last kiss to her skin, then turns his focus back to the pitch. Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) can only try to hide how flustered his words made her, then following his lead and watching the football game.

Over time, and with every goal for FC Barcelona, the cheeky comments coming from Carlos stop. The sight of his girlfriend cheering and clapping for her club triggers a bittersweet feeling in the pit of his stomach. Frustration follows, less because of Real Madrid's defeat, more because of the bet he is losing.

"Car", (Y/n) whines at the miserable state of her boyfriend, who is even pouting after the fourth goal. To comfort Carlos, she simply takes his arm and hugs it to her chest, resting his big hand on her thigh. He is a simple man, physical touch is what soothes his sorrows the best. Even better are kisses, so (Y/n) decorates his face with numerous of them.

Half of the stadium screams out of euphoria, while the other stays silent when the game ends. A few players fall face first onto the pitch, out of pure exhaustion. (Y/n) jumps to her feet, for a few moments not minding her grumpy boyfriend, simply enjoying the ecstatic atmosphere. Still, this excitement is not the same when she can't share it with her favorite person. Turning towards Carlos, seeing him sit there with his arms crossed before his chest and a deep frown between his brows, she quickly pulls him to stand next to her. Somehow, she forces him to clap, jumping up and down at his small smile.

Carlos feels grateful for his girlfriend, because although his favorite football club just lost, she manages to put a smile on his lips. Her presence alone can make his worst days to the best he ever had.

"That was a good match, mi corazón", Carlos says with a low voice, kissing the top of her head. With one arm wrapped around her waist, they leave their seats behind and the loud cheering of the crowd. Both are relieved the moment they sit in their car, taking deep breaths to calm down after the eventful evening.

"So about that bet...", (Y/n) starts with a smirk forming on her lips, followed by a giggle. Before Carlos can start the engine, he throws a wide-eyed glance towards his girlfriend.

"Now you want to talk about the bet? Now that you won?", Carlos asks with a louder voice, yet not annoyed at all. They did not agree on anything in particular regarding the bet, so he is rather suspicious what (Y/n) will suggest. He for sure knows what he would have done to his girl tonight if he had won.

"You cook something for me first. Then I want that jersey of yours gone", (Y/n) whispers in a seductive voice, leaning over the control panel she grins him straight in the face. The chuckle coming from Carlos only encourages her to press her lips to his. The kiss is quite short, although Carlos would love to deepen it after this nerve-racking evening.

"I can't kiss you with that shirt on. Sorry, mi amor."

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

dick grayson instagram hcs

basics

we are pretending dick is not a cop in this because i said so!

he's a professional model but also does perform at a local circus as a special guest

he's not actually going to the olympics (yet) but the american team has been trying to contact him for the better part of the decade so maybe you can convince him to go

he's kind of like one of your friends who you think is chill and normal but then you go to their ig and you find out they're something of a local celebrity?

everybody in gotham already knew him as bruce wayne's son but also he went semi viral on tiktok and got a bunch of new fans (and some edits) out of it

he used to have a less serious pfp but his management convinced him to use this one instead

followers + following

obviously you're there

as well as his friends and family

he manages to get away with following the superheroes since i mean, basically everybody else does as well

also a lot of industry people that he meets, both for modeling and gymnastics/trapeze

highlights

he is an abuser of the story function

will spend any opportunity to brag about his pretty girlfriend and all of the dates and trips you guys go on

he is weirdly good at taking photos, will give you tips on how to pose to get your best angles

also he has a lot of fans so he likes to post a photo of you every once in a while to remind everyone that he's happily taken

will also repost your work related stuff to be like hey look at how cool my gf is at her job!

dude has a million highlights that he updates for the fashion weeks each year

a lot of photos of his looks, him meeting with certain designers, it's mostly his team who posts this

same thing with his shows in the sense that it's usually other people (including you) taking photos of him while he's performing

but this is a more personal venture of his so he asks everyone to send him the pics and he decides which ones to post

will also repost stories from fans who came to the show!

oooh this man posts the most jaw dropping photos of himself

he will have just woken up and post a photo that makes you think it's so unfair how perfect somebody can be

he just likes to post when he feels good about himself and i support!

haley and (i did not come up with a name for your guys' cat so you guys can have fun with that!) also have their own dedicated highlight

it is exactly as cute and wholesome as you would think it is

there are even more highlights if you keep on scrolling. he has highlights for each year's fashion weeks, as mentioned, as well as trips you guys have been on (the most recent is a trip to greece and italy!)

posts

once again he's one of those infuriating sort of famous people who are like fine as hell but they post just enough cute and relatable content that he actually seems like a real and very nice guy (fun fact, he is!)

you can tell immediately when he's been on a trip because he'll have at least 3 posts up and they're all of the same place

you guys are like the photo taking couple

if you weren't good at taking pics before you started dating, his skills definitely rub off on you

he'll do the thing where he gets you to pose for him so he can take a photo of you and then you take the same style of photo for him

it's disgusting you guys have matching photos on your feeds of each other

if it wasn't already common knowledge that you guys are dating, i can imagine the conspiracy theory videos being like guys they were in the same place? at the same time? and they took the same type of pics? i think they're dating

he loves cooking with you (while i personally think it would be really funny if he can't cook, in some of the comics they do mention that he can cook, but either way he enjoys cooking with you)

you guys are like the parent friends who host dinner at their place and there's usually a theme surrounding seasonal ingredients and everything's plated really well

you probably watch cooking shows together and are now you can't serve a dish without some microgreens or sliced radish on top or something

also yes he did plan the picnic and he's quite proud of it

he watched all of those charcuterie board hacks to make the flowers and fancy cheese arrangements

and there were chocolate dipped strawberries, champagne with glasses, and freshly baked cookies (alfred might have helped with that one)

also yes he does wear glasses!!!! only at home when he's reading or staring at a screen too long. his prescription's not that bad

———

jason ver.

[noellefan101]

Silent Living

Characters: Noelle, Kinich, Lynette, Beidou, Diluc x mute GN!reader

Summary: You're mute, and cant talk? not a problem for your partner, they can find other ways to communicate, and honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: mute reader, most of them dont know sign language but there are people where i think they would either have learned it already or will learn it for you, gn reader as always

Note: hehe its kinda hard to write for Noelle tbh, i just can't see her romantically if that makes sense, its like a platonic obsession i have for her. but i chose to write for some girlies bc i felt like it, luv you :P

Noelle

She's a sweetheart and i fully believe she would try to learn sign language the day you meet for the first time. but for the sake of the cute gestures lets pretend she barely knows any words in it, or that you arent the best yourself despite probably needing it heh.

(she would teach you some if so, or learn with you)

In a classic Noelle fashion, she does literally anything for you, though people would normally just have to speak her name, you can't. so she always keeps an extra eye on you to ensure she's there when you need her help. that may be a given, but its truly what shes best at doing.

Loves writing little notes for you, whether its just so you can remember something or if its to invite you anywhere, she loves it. and she has definitely not been carrying pen and paper with her for weeks so you could write notes for each other, no no.

I dont imagine her being the best with words, but is always very good at comforting. so if you need some reassurance or just comfort you can come to her. and you can let her know to be silent by putting a finger over her mouth if you like the silence more. she wont be offended don't worry.

Kinich

Not very good with words and likes silence when possible, so it's very common for you to sit in silence doing an activity together. he's best with actions at least, both giving and receiving, so just doing a tiny chore for him would mean more than words could.

Though it may be difficult to do anything for each other since he's quite busy, and so could you be. but he always has time to sit with you for at least 30 minutes a day and just spend quality time together.

if you ever need anything from him, he has a notebook on him at all times that you're free to write in. Although Ajaw has made a fuss about it being annoying to wait for you, but he'll shut up if Kinich locks him up.

Lynette

She loves the silence you bring. being around her brother all the time can get annoying, no matter how much she loves him, so a quiet tea time with you is often just what she needs. she knows you can feel out of place or left out even since you cant communicate as easily with her siblings. but she is always ready to talk for you.

No matter how much she hates public speaking, and how often she gets her brother to speak for her, she'll speak for you. if there's anything you'd like to say, just write it down and show it to her. she might even know what you wanted to say, by how you stand and how your muscles move. so she will sometimes speak for you before you even get to start writing it down.

She has made sure you're a part of the conversation, not just there and looking around. she might have some knowledge about sign language, but she knows many do not and makes sure everyone understands you.

(she might even ask father if they can get classes in sign language, or at least the siblings of hers that you interact with most often)

Beidou

Maybe not the best at silent communication, but she tries her very best. if she doesnt know sign language she'll learn it, mostly because she feels it would make you more comfortable, but its also something that she may find interesting.

She is very good at dealing with different kinds of people though, so expect yourself to feel right at home wherever you are on her ship. she might even have started teaching her crew how to talk with you properly, whether thats getting you something write down on or learning them a bit of sign language that im not sure of.

Unfortunately it all goes in weird directions when she's drunk, while she talks for you it might be hard to get her to pay attention enough or even speak your thoughts properly. Kazuha is your savior in this case.

Diluc

He has made sure every single maid and anyone he hires learn to speak through their hands. he might even have prepared for it before you started dating, and even some of his staff you have never met before just knows how to speak with you.

Its a given that you're going to be well treated at the dawn winery, but Diluc makes sure you feel the most at home you'll ever experience. you have at least 1 maid whos ready to tend to you in a seconds notice, whether its jsut that you need something to write on or you need to know where you lover is.

Will literally drop anything for you with just a finger on his shoulder. whatever you need, he'll do it. need a hug? no need to even gesture it he knows, someone doesnt understand you at all? he's ready to talk in your place for hours on end.

I might have written it weirdly again sry, im not mute and i just like writing, Luv Ya- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[visualtaehyun]

Since it's already the 21st in Thailand now and I'm impatient to release this lol-

Today is ZeeNuNew's official 4th anniversary! 🐶🐱

So to celebrate, I worked on a little something, as promised: All deleted scenes from the Cutie Pie boxset, subbed and translated by yours truly (to the best of my non-native ability 🙏)

You can find the individual clips by either clicking on the links or, if you're on desktop, I've added them to the header images as well. My hope is that tumblr won't flag this post because any NC scenes aren't embedded. The clips are all hosted on tumblr and you can easily download them like this, too. If this post does get flagged- Welp, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. But the clips themselves shouldn't be affected since they're all hosted separately.

RULES: - This is arguably transformative content now because of my translations and the amount of audio fixing I had to do 🤡 But, please, if you share this post or any of the links off-site, do so privately so Domundi don't sound any sirens lol - Do NOT re-upload these clips anywhere! See previous point, plus I do not appreciate having my translations stolen, as is often the case online - If any link doesn't work or ever goes down, feel free to send me an ask or dm and I'll look into it 🙏

Now that you've read all of the above and promise to stick to my rules 😇🔪 you may proceed to the actual content~ Have fun, enjoy, and maybe come talk to me about it <3

clip 1+3 - Get out! clip 4 - Lunch & Lecturing clip 5 - Football

Four scenes of the gang's shenanigans at university. Clip 1 continues into clip 3 so I edited them together. They likely fit into ep.8 which has that same classroom setting with P'Aof's cameo as their lecturer. Clip 2 is entirely the same as in the aired version so I omitted it, even though it would fall under this category of scenes. Clips 4 and 5 are mostly about NuerSyn butting heads~

clip 11 - Start Over

An alternate cut of YiDiao's NC scene in ep.10. The boxset clip includes the entire conversation beforehand which I cut out because there's no difference to the aired version. I also adjusted the volume of the placeholder song because it's deafening at times.

clip 8 - First Time

A longer alternate cut of LianKuea's NC scene in ep.8. There are entirely new angles and cuts in this one! I adjusted the audio levels a bit.

clip 6 - Pillow Talk

Continued from after ep.8's NC scene. This scene is so so dear to me. Fair warning: the audio at the beginning maybe shouldn't be played without headphones lol

clip 7 - Bathtub

A LianKuea NC scene. This one might fit into ep.9 because it was definitely filmed during the same Q as the bathtub scene in ep.9. I did a lot of editing to get the audio levels of the different angles and cuts to be roughly the same volume.

clip 9 - Homophobia

A cut scene from ep. 11. Some lady at Lian's father's birthday party has a whole lot to say about Kuea, Lian, and their families.

clip 10 - Mystery

A LianKuea NC scene. I call it a mystery because I cannot for the life of me figure out where this scene was supposed to go! Logically, it must have fit somewhere between ep.8 and 12 but their outfits never show up again anywhere else. All I know about it is that it was filmed during Q16 and that it uses the same placeholder song as in clip 11. My only evidence- two photos P'Aof apparently shared a few days after that Q + a promotional still from a week before the show premiered.

[scootingaround12]

So I’ve been on kinda a Star Trek lower decks kick lately and one idea I’ve come across that won’t leave me alone is that Brad Boimlers is an augmented human.

Like maybe one or more of his parents had health issues/problems that they really didn’t want passed down to their child/ would make it so that child wouldn’t survive to adulthood.

But they were still desperate for a biological child of their own so ended up going to some shady doctor/scientist who said that they would rewrite the baby’s genetic code enough so that it wouldn’t have the health issues but still be there’s genetically.

In order to do this they basically had to create DNA that self replicated and healed as the baby lived so that none of the health conditions would kill him. It was partly successful, while Brad is very frail and displays a lot of the health issues and allergies of his parent/s he’s still able to mostly be healthy.

An unforeseen side effect of this was purple hair and that when enough adrenaline is pumping and the body feels like it has to go into survival mode the self healing DNA kicks into overdrive and he’s somehow able to survive experiences that would kill most others.

Seriously he’s come back from death/near death like 3 times and off the top of my head survived falling off a mountain with a local stating he’s the first she’s seen live afterwards in a current episode.

Also this is absolutely me looking way to deeply into a joke but I’m on a roll so hear we go: Mariner makes a comment that no Brad isn’t aging in reverse he just doesn’t get enough vitamins, what if due to his DNA constantly having to repair itself it basically leaches important vitamins and minerals from his body resulting in Brad being underweight and scrawny he also has problem digesting certain foods so has a hard time getting nutrients from that. He definitely should be on some kind of medical grade supplements but he’s delt with it his entire life and to him it’s normal (his parents were not risking taking him to a doctor more than they had to in fear they might find something out).

The whole but about him dying his hair could be him being paranoid about Starfleet listening to logs and him trying to cover his tracks if his hairs ever brought up. Also another person mentioned his admiration of Una to me and watching the episode it honestly felt deliberate with how clearly he hero worships her along with mentioning how he joined star fleet because of her, Una who’s Illyrian species known for it’s genetic modifications.

I’m thinking that Brad is a genetically modified human and starfleet as a strict no augmented humans allowed rule due to past experiences and worries they have about their unstable DNA.

Brad however has always dreamed of being in starfleet so despite the risks joins claiming to be just a regular human who some less than great genetics.

Honestly I think it could also be a really interesting way to show the not so nice and downright prejudice aspects of starfleet as a whole.

Especially if Brad is ever found out, since not only would he be kicked out he’d most likely be arrested for lying to starfleet about being an augmented human.

Starfleet is in no way prepared for the fury that is mariner, Tendi and Rutherford along with the entire cerritos crew coming for them.