#I'm like really happy with how this turned out actually

[starshower1215]

Reading the manga, I definitely took notice of how Levi's state of almost internal exhaustion is very evident in his facial expressions and body language. As is said here, "He's often almost shrunken in on himself, face down-turned, eyes exhausted, shoulders drooping, like there's a weight pressing down on him," then if I were describing him through prose in a piece of writing, then he would literally be drooping. And maybe I'm about to include an anime version of one of the above images, I don't know, but this post reminded me of this scene:

I'm 90% sure it's taken from the manga, but either way, Levi's clearly isolated himself in the above image, and I'm aware that that's common with the feeling of depression. Or maybe it's a perceived sense of isolation, but with some people, that perception itself is what leads to actual isolation. Levi is someone who sees himself as a sort of tool for others' success, benefit, or happiness, and he builds any semblance of self-worth which he has off of this. So, I think if he feels someone is rejecting him or isolating themself from him, he won't make the effort to "chase" after their affections, so as not to place his weight on them as a burden, as that's his perception of himself, and therefore a bias in his impression of the situation. That's my loosely related interpretation. I thought it was worth pointing out, but I'm thinking out loud here. Still, this post is completely correct, he really isn't the cold, emotionless soldier that people make him out to be, and it's quite the opposite.

One thing that gets me about the way Isayama draws Levi, is how well he captures Levi's depression. I don't think it really gets talked about enough, but I think it's fairly obvious that Levi suffers from depression, and it's not clinical with him, but rather a result of the life he's lead. All you have to do is take one look at Levi in the manga, and you can see that he's had a hard life. That he's been through and seen things that are genuinely spirit crushing. He wears that, not only on his face, but in the way he holds himself. He's often almost shrunken in on himself, face down-turned, eyes exhausted, shoulders drooping, like there's a weight pressing down on him. People always talk about Levi having a stoic expression, or a cold, emotionless expression, but I think that's completely wrong. To me, he more often just looks sad. He looks pained. You see this most in shots of Levi when he's just standing around, when he's not engaged in any particular action, when he's in repose. That tells me that Levi's general state of being is a depressed one. And it astounds me that anyone could ever accuse him of being unfeeling, or untouched by the destruction, death and despair around him. I think Levi carries the weight of those things more obviously on him than anyone because he feels the weight of those things more keenly than anyone. It all affects him, it all leaves its mark on him. That he pushes through that pain, the sadness and depression, is testament to his strength, to his commitment to others. But to think every death, every hardship, every instant of suffering doesn't impact Levi to his core is to simply not understand Levi at all. You get as much out of the visuals in "Attack on Titan" as the text, sometimes more, and with Levi, I think it's particularly important to pay attention to the way he looks, because he doesn't often express what he's feeling in words. But he always shows what he's feeling, through his expression, through his body language, the way he holds himself, etc... Levi just strikes me as a hurting unit. He's a deeply, deeply hurt man. He's hurt by the suffering of others, by the struggle and desperation he sees around him, by the unfairness and cruelty of life and the human condition. And it's always so evident, that hurt he feels, just to look at him.

[drdemonprince]

I just wanted to say, I've been thinking all about your piece about the stages of unmasking and autism acceptance. (Your writing has been so helpful for me and my partner as we've been figuring out how they can unmask and live fully and authentically!!)

But I kept coming back to the bit about grief, and loss about the confusion after figuring out youre autistic. For my partner, I was SO HAPPY when they got their diagnosis and it was a huge step forward for us, but also it was scary because I was like wait... Did I fall in love with your mask? Who are you actually??

And the answer is, yes, I fell in love with the mask. I fell in love with the performance of themselves that they showed the world that then turned out to be too exhausting for them to maintain in a close relationship. But the cool thing was, the actual person who stood up for themselves and set limits and was getting to know themselves truly and actually? That person is fucking awesome and I adore them.

Anyways. Thanks for everything you do. Thank you for showing me and so many others how to live joyfully and authentically and in true relationship.

oh my god that's so sweet, thanks for sharing anon.

I think many of us believe ourselves to be masking far more comprehensively & effectively than we actually are. It's part of why we still feel so completely alienated from people ; others can sense that we are keeping the world at a distance, and it prevents them from bonding as fully to us. And the flip side of that is also often true -- we may fear that if we stop masking our loved ones will abandon us, because they will hate the person we really deep down. But throughout our time with them, there have been key "tells" of who we really are, little leakages of the sides of us that we fear showing so desperately, but which our loved ones caught wind of, and actually found to be some of the most lovable parts of us all along.

The people who only love our masks are, typically, the people who would like us to remain featureless and compliant. But the people who really love us already love what is behind the mask -- and they might see that version of us better than we do ourselves.

I'm glad things worked out well for you and your partner.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Different: Christmas

Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Clover

"Coopurr...Coopurr, man, knock it off!"

Your mum's cat continues to try to attack your feet under the safe covers of your bed.

"Coopurr! Come on!"

"You can just kick him off the bed," Your aunt Ella says from the doorway and you finally sit up in bed.

"I can't because he's the only sane person in this house! Do you know what it's like leaving with you two?"

"Amazing?"

Your mother pops her head through the door. "The most perfect thing in the world?"

You let out a bark of laughter. "You wish."

Katie winks. "I don't have to wish for something that's already true."

"The most perfect thing in the world is you leaving me here for Christmas."

It's Katie's turn to laugh now, pulling down your blankets and allowing Coopurr to bat at your now exposed toes.

"No chance," She says," Come on, up! We've got the flight back home this evening."

"Just leave me here to rot!" You say dramatically and Katie laughs again.

"You know, if you're here alone then you have to cook for yourself," She points and you sigh, finally sitting up in bed and scooping Coopurr into your arms.

"Fine," You say," But don't think I'll be happy about it."

"You're never happy about anything."

"Kim'll tell you that it's because I'm a teenager."

Katie cracks a smile. "You know what? Kim's onto something."

You roll your eyes as you get out of bed as Katie's eyes narrow.

"You haven't even started packing yet, have you?"

"I was still banking on us staying here."

Katie plucks Coopurr from your arms with an eye roll, trying to push you along with her foot. "Go and pack. And make sure to bring lots of jumpers! You know my parents don't like turning on the heating in Winter!"

You rolls your eyes as you go rummaging around in your wardrobe for your suitcase.

It's not like you don't enjoy going back to Ireland. On the contrary, you love going back to Ireland. You just didn't enjoy how big of a family you have.

Certain members of the family seemed to delight in reminding you that you weren't actually Katie's daughter. It didn't seem to matter to them that Katie had been a mother figure to you all your life. It didn't seem to matter to them that you barely even remembered your biological parents.

All that seemed to matter to them was pointing out that you were technically, biologically, Katie's little cousin.

You stuff whatever's clean and visible into your suitcase with little regard to what clothes you're actually packing before practically throwing the suitcase down the stairs.

"Stop trying to break stuff!" Katie yells.

"Ella's the one that broke the hallway table!" You yell back with a laugh," She came in drunk and fell over it!"

Ella gasps in horror from her room. "You said that you wouldn't tell her that!"

"And you said you would get me ice cream. But here I am...Ice creamless!"

You don't actually get your ice cream, even at the airport when you very pointedly show a selection of ice creams to Ella and she promptly ignores you.

Pulling up to your grandparents' house has always been a bit daunting to you. Before Katie adopted you, you lived in that house too, once upon a time.

Now though, it feels you with trepidation.

Most of the family is probably already there and you just know you're going to have to end up sharing a room with more people than just Katie.

You're right, of course, when a few other aunts and uncles arrive. Katie's aunts and uncles, of course, but also kind of yours. But you'd never really considered them that.

They were related to your biological parents and, again, you barely remembered them. You'd grown up with Katie as your maternal role model so it made sense to you as you got older that her siblings ended up filling the roles of aunts and uncles to you.

"You feeling okay?" Katie asks, hand gently covering yours as you sit on the squished sofa and pick at the Christmas Eve meal that her mother made for everyone.

"I...Yeah, I just..." You look up at one of the older men in the room, the one that always insisted on calling you anything but Katie's daughter. "I'm just going to the toilet."

"You feel sick?" Katie sits up properly, eyes narrowed as they flick over your face, searching for a flush or anything that shows you're feeling under the weather.

"No! No...I...I just need a bit of a breather, you know?"

"Yeah, kind of overwhelming around here, huh?"

"Yeah...I'm just gonna..."

"Yeah, you go ahead."

The mirror in the bathroom clearly hasn't been cleaned in a while, covered in little water droplets but you don't really mind as you splash your face with water a few times and stare at yourself, gripping the sides of the sink in a white knuckle grip.

It takes you a while to psych yourself up, enough time that you're pretty sure dinner has been finished and people have moved onto dessert.

It's usually loud in the McCabe household and on Christmas Eve, it's no different.

Lots of people fighting over the remote and someone singing a horrific Christmas carol and someone else lecturing someone on the correct way to cook a turkey even though everyone knows that no matter how a turkey is cooked, it always comes out dry.

But this yelling is different and you definitely recognise the voice of one of the people yelling.

"Get your bag!" Katie yells, finally spotting you lingering in the doorway.

"Wh-What?"

"Your bag!" Katie snaps before sighing and softening her voice," Can you go upstairs and grab our bags? Wait for me by the door."

You know better than to try and ask her things when she's like this so you leave to grab everything, coming down to catch the tailwind of her yelling.

"-She is my daughter and she will always be my daughter, no matter what any of you people think!"

"Katie-"

"No! I won't hear it! She's my daughter and I love her and it's none of your business anyway!"

"You can't just leave, it's Christmas tomorrow!"

"Yes! And I will be spending Christmas with my daughter! I don't care if it's just the two of us. If it has to be that way then it will!"

Katie looks surprisingly calm when she joins you at the front door.

"I don't think we'll get a flight at this hour," She says," But I reckon we could still catch the ferry and then we'll take a cab back home, sound good?"

You smile at her. "I might have accidentally left your present at home anyway."

She laughs. "That's 'cause you're psychic. You knew we were spending Christmas at home this year."

[mrs-kodzuken]

early christmas ⟢ rintarou s.

synopsis: you get an early christmas gift from your boyfriend and love it beyond no end, timeskip!suna x fem!reader, christmas time, fluff, short fic

“You've been on that thing forever, at this rate you’re likely to forget me soon.” Rin deadpanned, almost regretting buying that damned thing for you.

Almost.

He could see how happy it made you, especially now that when he got on the game with his friends, you weren’t completely lonely with your new switch lite.

Of course, Christmas was coming up but with being stuck in the house for days due to snow and not being able to make it to work, he knew the best solution for his dear girlfriend.

He watched carefully as you concentrated on digging perfect holes to place trees in, your face was definitely one to remember. He loved seeing your joy filled face as you explained the animal crossing terms to him, even though he'd probably forget half of them within the next hour.

"Uhh, nuh uh." you retorted, not even looking up at him from where he was standing. After Rintarou surprised you with an early Christmas present, even though the big day was less than a week away, you could not stop playing. It was like an excitement that was slowly becoming an addiction.

You took your nintendo lite with you everywhere, to the bathroom when taking long, relaxing baths, to the bar in the kitchen where you both eat breakfast.

And even so far as playing it in public during downtime if you both were able to leave the house. You loved every minute of your new game console, especially since it was in your favorite color too.

However, Suna had to draw some lines when you pulled an all-nighter playing your game because you 'just had to get something done'.

"I think it's mostly your fault though, you let me open it early, so." you trailed off, sticking your tongue out wherever you thought he was from your peripheral.

Your eyes stuck to your little character as she ran around the plaza trying to talk with every villager. You couldn’t help but to get so happy when you saw the Christmas decorations around your island. As well as hounding on your game for so long, day and night, you were able to make lots of progress.

You barely noticed that Suna sat down beside you on the king sized bed, his PS5 left on and if you really paid attention, you could hear his friends calling for him.

"Love, at least give me a kiss before you leave off into the island of Y/n." he joked, you tore your eyes away from the screen and started to feel bad in the way that you were ignoring your boyfriend.

"I'm sorry Rinnie, I just really love the game, but I'll be sure to take breaks and spend actual quality time with you." you promised, saving and putting your game console away.

The relief basically melted off of Suna, now he finally understands the other side of the story when he used to not pay enough attention to you when gaming.

"Thanks, love." he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, relishing in the fact that he could taste the leftover dark chocolate crumbs on your lips from when you snack as you play.

"You're such an angel, you know that right? My angel." he couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face when you laughed and rolled your eyes. You were such the purest sight ever to him, this is what he missed. Of course he loves when you have an enjoyable hobby but physical contact was so much better in his opinion.

"Want to ditch the games for the rest of the night and watch a Christmas movie with me?" you giggled into his black sweatshirt, it smelling of his fancy body wash that you gifted him as a 'just because' gift.

"Obviously, anything to spend more time with you love." he hopped up, turning off his own gaming console and sending a text to his group chat before lounging with you in bed.

After a small discussion on which streaming service, you both finally decided on Hulu to watch Elf.

As the movie played and the lights were dimmed in the bedroom, you got sentimental, watching Rintarou’s handsome features being lit up by the movie.

"You know, I'm really grateful for my gift. I love it." you said quietly, hiding your face even though you both have been together for almost four years now.

He squeezed you tighter to him, loving your small confession, his heart felt unbearably warm at the act.

"I'm glad love, only the best for you." he kissed your temple knowing that his small confession would ring true when he got the balls to get the ring box out of his sock drawer and pop the question.

But for now, he smiled and watched your reactions to the movie, wondering how he got so lucky. 

a/n: hihi! i've been obsessed with animal crossing lately, so sorry i've been inactive!! i hope you enjoy, and requests are open! <3

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Things I noticed in the Play My Way music video

Also Play My Way is canon! I will not be arguing about this with people who haven't bothered to check the several people who have not checked the SEVERAL places confirming this. That said, I will start thinking about how this connects to Amanda canon at some point and just theories in general.

is it just me or does it look like it says: "Am in Hell?" just without the i?

When Amanda first says "No" to it being Wooly's turn he immediately looks at us. Suspicious.

That said, he seems really concerned during the whole conversation.

I find it interesting since this song is part of the continuity of the official "hide and seek" pilot tapes... that implies that this probably takes place before the first two games right? I mean, Amanda and Wooly are still somewhat friends here. That said, it's interesting that Amanda allows Wooly to have his turn, in-game Amanda wouldn't do this without being forced, but she just agrees and says: "That's fair."

Also when Amanda agrees Wooly looks really happy/excited? Which is strange... because like instantly once their separated he starts freaking out? Like why is he so scared anyway? It's his turn at hide and seek! The turn he asked for! I honestly think this was what started my little theory that prior to their falling out, Wooly was a bit more clingy with Amanda. Like more in an anxiously-attached sort of way. Like the way a shy kid hides behind their more adventurous friend.

I realized there are only so many images allowed in a tumblr post... so I'm going to make each segment a separate post alright?

Here are some non-image related things I noticed:

When Amanda says "never ends" the backdrop around her glitches.

I think the line "make believe that we have a choice what you play with me" kind of implies that Amanda doesn't have much free will over the games they play in these episodes.

The whole "it's my turn now" sequence is super interesting. Because like Wooly isn't really upset at first, but he actually gets angry about this. He seems to get scared when Amanda yells but doesn't seem to be afraid of her specifically.

Finally, in the ending scene (I've talked about the other scenes in other posts go check them out 😄)

Is it just me or does Wooly suddenly look... really unsettled about this question? And Amanda looks really... sarcastic? Annoyed? Did someone ruin her fun? Did she think she found some freedom only to realize she's still just as trapped as before?

Then Wooly makes THIS face. What are you hiding Wooly I'm onto you!

Also, Amanda looks really happy when she says "It is" it's us... I wonder who she's seeing. Like... us literally or? Kate? Or Riley? Hmm... I'm inclined to think since this takes place in the library before the first game (that's my theory anyway) that she realizes this is Kate. Like... she recognizes Kate. And Wooly kind of awkwardly backs away when she does so hmm...

Also this frame with Amanda looking tired and sad as she holds the hands off all the other kids trapped in the tapes (that's my interpretation anyway). OMG PRECIOUS SWEETHEART I AM SO SORRY I EVER DOUBTED YOU!

These poor kids man... I hope they get some sort of happy ending. Like... at least release them even if they are dead. Like their souls find peace PLEASE.

Also Wooly with Wooly's actual VA showing up late like: I'm ready for the music video! Was hilarious and cute.

Anyway I'm gonna go. I'll probably talk more about this later. Let's discuss!

[ssentimentals]

hihi love!! i’m so obsessed w your work 😭😭 you just do such a good job writing ajdhjshdhw 🥺🩷🩷

could i request hurt prompt 35 w woozi pls? a happy ending would be nice but it doesn’t have to be!! tysm love🥹🩷

- 🫧

hihi babie!! omg this is so nice?? thank you so much for being this kind!! hopefully you will like your request 💜

hurt prompt: 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

'i feel like i should be happy and excited for the festive season but i just can't.' you mutter, adjusting your earphones. 'it's just been so shitty at work lately, you know? i don't have it in me to actually feel anything.'

your best friend lets you let it all out. she lets you go on and on about the work, your rant ending only when you come closer to your house. you also wanted to discuss jihoon with her, but that is going to wait for another time then. hanging you up, you sigh, slowing your stride. everything's been shitty lately not only at work; your relationship with jihoon started to crack as well. it's not very obvious, but the breach was formed and you feel like you both are just drifting further and further apart each day. coming home used to be the best part of your day, but now it's ad dreadful as going to work and it's just- sad. sadder than that is only your complete lack of any desire to do anything about it.

'welcome home,' jihoon greets, when you come in. he notices slight frown at your forehead and cautiously asks: 'is everything okay?'

'mhm.' you try to smile, but it comes off more as a grimace. 'how are you? have you already eaten? if yes i can just-'

'no,' jihoon interrupts. 'i waited for you.'

you blink. that is... new. you both didn't wait for each other last two months. your heart skips a beat at this, small flicker of hope reignites in your chest. this time you smile for real: 'oh, thank you. can you heat it up then? warm food will make me very happy now.'

jihoon smiles. 'i thought coffee makes you happy?'

'not right now. 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

you quickly change and come back to the kitchen right at the time of jihoon setting up the table. you both work in silence; you feel tongue-tied, not knowing what to say and how to ask simple things. when it became so awkward to just be with jihoon? you eat in silence too, or more like you both push your food around the plate, not looking up at each other. it's incredibly tense and you're surprised that jihoon is the one who snaps first with a humourless chuckle: 'this is not working, is it?'

you can argue, of course. you can remind him that it's not working because of him. you can start fighting again. instead, you agree. 'yeah, it's.. not.'

jihoon nods. he's staring at his plate intently like leftover meatballs have answers to his question. when he looks up, his gaze is filled with hesitance and hope: 'do you want it? to work?'. he licks his lips, quickly adding: 'because i do. i just- past few months were hard. i sucked, i know. but like, i- i want this. to work. do you?'

crying with meatballs in your mouth is really not the best thing you can do, but you can't stop tears from falling down. swallowing without chewing and choking on the food, you quickly down your glass of water and let out sincere: 'i do. i'm sorry, i sucked too.'

jihoon nods. he looks like he wants to laugh at your red face from choking, but he wisely holds himself back. 'okay. then,' he takes a deep breath, 'we will finish this now and go to bed and talk about it.'

you nod. 'we can come up for something to get us into holiday mood?' you suggest hesitantly.

jihoon brightens up at this. 'yeah, sounds good.'

you both smile at each other and hope inside your chest flickers stronger than before. jihoon reaches out across the table and takes your hand in his. flicker of hope turns into a burning fire.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[koalapastries-writes]

okay which drivers do you think would want to come out as a couple and which ones would you have to ask to come out as a couple?

also congrats on 250!!! so proud of you ❤️

thank you milo <3333

this one's interesting because i could kinda see a lot of them in either category but here's my current thoughts:

warnings: suggestive content (lando, kimi a, rbr + ferrari!seb), mentions of affectionate bullying (lando), mentions of having kids (am + retired!seb, kimi r), mentions of marriage (am + retired!seb, jenson), mentions of joke flirting with someone else (ollie), mentions of violence (logan), mild angst (kimi a, logan), autistic!oscar bc i said so

asks you to go public:

alex albon:

something you will notice about when i write alex is that he is just a goofy guy

like he'd ask to go public but only because he's either a) already accidentally revealed the relationship or b) wanting to post goofy boyfriend photos of you

if it's the first one he's got a back-up "i'm sorry" gift in case you're not exactly ready

if it's the second one he's already got a post drafted and you better believe he will post it the SECOND he gets approval

he's silly and bad at keeping it a secret but he'll try his best for you

franco colapinto:

yappatron 6000

he's probably already told the whole grid and every mechanic who would listen to him for more than five seconds

knows it's only a matter of time before he starts talking about you in interviews

definitely the type to forget that he's famous

his family knows, lewis hamilton congratulated him on being a (sort of) out F1 driver ... everyone else can just find out randomly as far as he's concerned

mick schumacher:

wants to post all the couples pictures he has of you two

how can you possibly say no to this golden retriever?

it's impossible

you hard launch ten minutes later

lando norris:

so i don't usually write for lando but i do sometimes so 🤷‍♂️

would probably ask to go public just to prove that he actually can get a date (he doesn't like to talk about his instagram attempts)

it backfires immediately

now instead of being teased for being single he's being teased for being whipped

tells everyone you asked him to go public and then forgets to turn his mic off while streaming and accidentally reveals that he literally begged you

needless to say, his friends refuse to let him live it down

charles leclerc:

ok listen he's a pretty boy and he wants to be shown off

he wants to follow you around and be your arm candy

will get very very pouty if you hesitate or refuse

he'll understand, but he will be pouty until you either kiss him, cuddle him, or agree to go public

when you're out he's just a happy little bunny wandering around the paddock and abandoning his team responsibilities if he sees you

(ferrari tries to ban you from the paddock, charles cries until they give in)

aston martin + retired era sebastian vettel:

if he can't win races he wants to make it VERY clear that all his flirting over the year was just for funsies

like with his whole cool mature twink-death phase, he brings up the idea of settling down

you're not impressed

"sebastian we have three kids. if you still think this is 'casual' i don't know what to tell you."

... he does sleep on the couch for a couple nights

eventually he will convince you tho and you'll go to your first race with the whole paddock knowing you're his husband and not just his Really Close Friend Who He Happened To Touch A Lot.

ollie bearman:

i know this is kinda contradictory to the crossdressing post but i think ollie would bring up coming out before you?

like, prema knows, haas knows, ferrari knows, his family knows ... he knows he's pretty secure

does joke about bearnelli with you

which results in you (jokingly) flirting with dino or arthur and a very whiny baby bear

probably wouldn't want to do it until after / part way through his rookie season

just so he's a little more settled yk?

you ask to go public:

jenson button:

this one might be a lil controversial

i think jenson would actually to prefer to stay private for longer?

like, he won't tell anyone when you're dating

but the second you're married he's like

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY HUSBAND HE'S SO HOT

sky tries to reprimand him and jenson shows up to the next race with one of those "i ❤️ my husband" t-shirts and rainbow trousers

he looks like a dork but it's okay because he's cute

kimi antonelli:

absolutely adores you and talks about you at prema all the time

talks about you at mercedes all the time

george already knows your shoe size (among other things)

but the idea of going public and everyone knowing he has a boyfriend? absolutely terrifying

he kinda just posts the same sorts of things he posts with ollie and hopes everyone will assume you're just a friend

you're fine with it, because you know you're always the one he runs to for celebratory kisses after a win :)

kimi raikkonen:

shouldn't be surprising

he's not actively hiding you or actively trying to tell people

he just ... doesn't really talk about his personal life?

some of the drivers know, some don't

he's 100% been wearing a wedding/promise/whatever ring for years and nobody notices

there's a chance nobody knows he's ever dated anyone until your kid starts karting and he posts a video of the kid everyone thought was just his calling you dad and the internet explodes

lance stroll:

would rather die than have journalists asking you invasive questions

everyone knows he's dating someone but nobody knows who

lawsuits + bribes to any tabloids who get photos of you

insists on getting you a bodyguard if you ever come out

you try to get his dad to reason with him

lawrence thinks lance could be worse

overall, billionaire boyfriend just wants to cuddle at home and will do anything to protect that

10/10 very cute and whiny when he realises that means you can't go with him to Official F1 Business™ things

logan sargeant:

might've been half-out in the junior formulae?

like kind of an open secret in the paddock but he doesn't post about it

then he gets promoted to f1

at first he's super excited because he knows you get along really well with lily (alex's gf) and with all the talk of williams being a family, hopes you'll get to do normal wag/hab stuff with her

then things go downhill

logan absolutely refuses to let you anywhere near williams

half out of fear that somebody would say something rude to you

half out of fear that you'd light v*wles on fire if you got close enough

oscar piastri:

this man is Oblivious with a capital "O"

he tries his best really but he just. doesn't pick up on cues like that.

(yes this is me pushing my autistic!oscar agenda idc i'm autistic i'm allowed to say it)

has a massive folder of cute photos that either include you or remind him of you

it takes up about a quarter of his phone's storage

he refuses to delete any of them

still keeps it pretty private if you do ask to go public

he likes that he can just be oscar with you

he doesn't want the media taking that away from him

will only delete some of his photos when they're copied onto two separate usb's that are both in fireproof safes (one in his apartment in monaco, one in his childhood home in melbourne)

rbr + ferrari era sebastian vettel:

i recently saw this era described as feral twink energy and. yeah.

he's flirting with anything in the paddock that has a pulse

fans? yes.

journalists? yes.

drivers? yes.

team members? yes.

fia officials? yes.

EVERYBODY

eventually you'll ask if he could just please mention that he is, in fact, taken and (here's where it depends on if you're dom/sub) either make you beg or push you to the point of fucking it out of him

if anyone saw one of you limping in the paddock one day?

no they didn't.

this was fun, i definitely enjoy going deeper into what i think the drivers would be like in relationships :D

[sundrop-writes]

I am sooooo late replying to comments, but I have been feeling like crap so I am just now crawling out of my hole. And I know that Star isn't gonna mind that I'm late <3 anyway, here we go:

Star: I just LOVE these scenes of characters getting "caught" in a secret relationship (even if it's a fake relationship)

Sunny: okay but characters being 'caught' doing something that they 'shouldn't be' is SOOOO ICONIC. especially when what they're doing is not actually illegal or that immoral, they just feel like they need to hide their relationship and feel so caught out when other people find out. it is such a great trope (I really need to write it more). I especially love it when it's like "my super protective older brother can't catch us dating because he will kill you" and then the older brother catches them, attacks, and it prompts "don't hit me, okay, I love her!" and this is the first time that brooding emotionally disconnected love interested has ever said The Big L in front of his girlfriend. IT HIIIITS HARD

Star: "They belonged to him now and he didn’t want to put them back" don't be shy... put them on 🫣

Sunny: we need to see Stiles in panties at some point. we really really need to do a Pantyboy Stiles fic at some point. SECRETARY, PUT THAT ON MY SCHEDULE. oooooh IDEAAAAAAAAA - Stiles wearing panties, FORGETS HE IS WEARING THEM (would be such a Stiles thing) and goes to change after practice (maybe after a cross country running practice via S3?) and because he was late, the only other person in the locker room is Isaac, and Isaac sees the panties and will not let him live it down. teases him so badly, but because it's Horny Isaac, the mockery quickly turns into horny teasing, and when stuttering Stiles accidentally lets it slip that he was only wearing the panties because you, his girlfriend, likes it when he does, Isaac's brain goes nuts because you're a hot girl and you're kinky - and he knows immediately that he wants a threesome. (I feel like I need to write this fic now. I need to write it).

Star: “Ya know, this really isn’t your color - red would look much better on you.” Danny smirked" STOP PRETENDING YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED DANNY !!! A LITTLE TOO QUICK TO THINK OF STILES WEARING PANTIES !!!

Sunny: Danny is a gossipy bitch. He isn't super interested in Stiles, he just loves to talk shit. Also I mentioned Stiles wearing red because of that one TV show where Dylan wears a red lingerie set lmao

Star: "Seriously?” Isaac asked" hi baby !! not that I'm not happy about it but... have you .. always been here ...? hello (WAS HE HERE FOR THE DRAFT ???? every new Isaac line I'm like... "hi how long have you been here for?")

Sunny: this is hilarious to me because I know you didn't read the A/N where I was talking about the fact that I added Isaac in here just for my own fun - because when I wrote this, we were only on the early episodes of season 1 and Isaac doesn't come in until season 2 so I didn't have him in this draft. But I am very glad that I added him <3

Star: "Jesus, Scott, don’t ruin this for me,” Isaac whined, rolling his eyes" KSKSKSKS Isaac getting the spank bank ready AS WE SPEAK

Sunny: it's a lil treat for me <3 but I fucking love the idea of locker room talk perv Isaac

Star: “Ew! Why do you have them?” a hot girl cutting Jackson off with a very loud "EWWW" is very healing to me, you're so right diva...

Sunny: this reminds me of that tiktok audio EW DAVID!! EW DAVID!!!

Star: "Wait. Why were you covering for him?" now that the fear of god has settled in his heart, we must continue

Sunny: THE FEAR OF GOD. why is this one of the funniest things you have ever said lmao

Star: "running a single finger along his bare torso" i have a very vague memory of saying something that led to this... good job past Star, never change <33

Sunny: you ATE IT UUUPP with this. I am so thankful that you thought of this omg

Star: “Door.” this is still SO CUNTY !!!!!

Sunny: it is SOOOOO cunty. what are subby men if not little dogs to boss around?

Star: "Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured" love thinking about the next day in the locker room, everyone (Jackson and Isaac probably) grilling him for details and Stiles blue screening cause how does he explain it?

Sunny: I love describing Stiles's brain melt as 'blue screening' lmao. also Stiles would be so excited to brag and he would be like "there was some bondage involved" and the guys would be like "WOAH YOU TIED HER TO THE BED" and then he's like "no, she tied me to the bed" and then they're like "...oh"

Star: "Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit" Stiles, to me, is such a "boobs guy", it's CRAAAAAZY ! Like almost to a stereotypical degree

Sunny: he is another guy who would do anything for the promise of boobs. you could order him around with the promise of boobies and he would do anything

Star: “Dear god, what the hell is that?” I FORGOT ABOUT THIS !!!!!! INSAAAAANEEEE !!!! "His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway" SKSKKSKS i love that the awkward middle aged instincts were overpowered by the "responsible parent" ones

Sunny: this was one of my favourite endings to write ever!!!

I am so sorry I was late but I am so glad that you liked the fic!!! I love our little dumb subby Stiles

Stupid For You

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Hey - tell me what you want me to say. You know I’m Stupid For You.

I’ll take what I can get.

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you, and everybody wants you.

Summary:

Stiles tried to return your panties - he really did.

But he still has the contraband in his possession, and he accidentally drops the underwear in the locker room in front of the entire lacrosse team. To cover up the fact that he stole them, he lies and says that he got them from you after a hook-up. And surprisingly - you back up his story?

Only with the promise that he helps you turn his lie into the truth.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 11,900

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Before you read this fic, be sure to read BRAINWASHED. This fic can be read as a standalone, but you get more Stiles goodness by reading both, and the context of this one will make more sense if you read the other fic first.

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; as with the previous fic - the reader is implied to be fat/plus-sized; also again - for argument's sake, even though the character's in this fic are in high school, everyone is at least 18 (and the fic was inspired by a 20 something actor, so imagine the characters to be whatever age you want); mentions of panty stealing (carried over from the previous fic - Stiles stole a pair of the reader's panties in that fic and still has them in his possession); mentions of Stiles masturbating, but not described in detail like last time; mentions of Stiles having sexual fantasies about the reader; the rest of the lacrosse team finds Stiles with the panties and mocks him for it - they mock him for potentially having the panties to wear them and call him a 'cross-dresser', so I guess the warning here is transphobia and transphobic ideas (which would be very typical of high school boys, especially around the time this show was made in 2011); mentions of other members of the lacrosse team finding the reader sexually attractive (it is implied that the reader is generally known as a hot, attractive girl); mention of the reader wearing a 'slutty' Halloween costume to a party (Stiles has a picture of it that he 'loves'); for the actual smut section - the reader is dominant and Stiles is submissive; size kink - Stiles likes being manhandled by the reader because he is thin and skinny; the reader imposes rules on Stiles as a dom and he follows them, but there is no safeword implemented or needed (as the writer, I say they don't need one because they will never be put in danger of using one) (because they are fictional characters and their hard 'nos' will never come into play and only things they want will happen); orgasm restriction - Stiles has to ask the reader in order for permission before cumming; bondage - the reader uses a scarf to tie Stiles's wrists to the bed; the reader gives Stiles a handjob; lots of dirty talk; orgasm denial/edging (towards Stiles); the reader calls Stiles: needy boy, good boy, babe, baby, sweetheart; undertones of humiliation kink; undertones of pain kink (nothing severe, but Stiles does like a bit of pain); begging (from Stiles, a lot); protected penis in vagina sex (they DO use a condom this time) (different, I know); Stiles sucks on the reader's tits; Stiles eats the reader's pussy; thigh riding - Stiles grinds against the reader's thigh to cum; praise kink - towards Stiles; the reader calls Stiles 'pretty'; undertones of dumbification kink; I believe that is finally it. I hope you all enjoy!!

A/N: So, I have some mixed feelings about releasing this fic. Currently, I am only rushing to edit and release it in order to get it off my plate, and I want to do so before the end of the year. I wrote this during the hiatus, when I was writing fics without editing them and I really enjoyed getting to write a fic and go onto the sequel without having to stop and think too much about it. But to me, the first fic feels naturally complete. And so I didn't really like people nagging and continually asking for a sequel to the other fic as if it's not a complete fic on its own. It's only recently that I found a way to put it into words. Whenever I release a fic and people only care about seeing a sequel or a second part (especially if it's a oneshot with an intentional ending and people ask for a sequel like it's something so urgent), it makes me feel like that fic is not good enough because people view that fic as incomplete on its own. I know people think it's a compliment or flattering to ask for a sequel, but to me, if you like my writing, ask for me to write more for those same characters or in that same fandom - but if you are constantly asking for a sequel to a specific fic, it makes me think that you think that fic is not good and it needs to be completed in some way. But anyway - I tried to remember why I had fun writing this fic in the first place, and if anybody starts asking for a 'part three', I will start swinging. (THERE WILL NOT BE A PART THREE.) Also, when I originally wrote this, I was watching Season 1 and I had not met Isaac yet, so for my own fun, as my own special treat, I added Isaac to the locker room scene. Because he is my baby. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!

...

A week later, Stiles still had not returned the stolen panties to you. 

It was something that he kept meaning to do. Honestly, he really did. 

But he just never got the chance to. 

Somehow, in that entire week, he had never been left alone in your room. Not for long enough to actually figure out what to do with the stolen goods. Should he leave them in your hamper and let you find them in the laundry? Should he slip them back into your drawer like nothing had happened since, technically, they were clean? He always ended up panicking and shoving them back into his bag whenever he heard you coming back down the hall. 

On other nights when the two of you had been studying together, it had been at his place instead of yours. And any time he had gone over to your house, you had been with him pretty much the whole time. 

And okay - maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe you had taken bathroom breaks or left the room for a while because your mom wanted to talk to you. Or you ran downstairs to grab a pizza that you had ordered to share with him - but every time he opened his backpack to grab the panties in order to put them back, he felt some insane thing inside his head telling him that he just couldn’t do it. Part of him thought that it was fear over getting caught - the idea that you would walk back into the room just in time to see him with the evidence in hand. 

But deep down, he knew it was a possessiveness. The idea that these panties were now his. They belonged to him now and he didn’t want to put them back. Those panties were his prize - his special, secret little part of you. And he couldn’t give that up. Not yet. 

He hadn’t jacked off with them since that first time. Well, he hadn’t specifically put them around his cock and made a mess of them in the same way. But he held them in a clean hand and enjoyed the texture of the lace, enjoyed the thought of you wearing them - while he used his other lubed hand to make himself cum. And he had done that every single night, sometimes twice, since he had taken them. It was becoming a bit of a worrying habit. 

He was wondering if you had noticed them gone yet. 

Maybe, when he finally did get rid of them, he wouldn’t return them back to you - he would have to burn them or something, just to get rid of the evidence. And then he would have to go on believing that you either hadn’t noticed the specific pair gone or you went on thinking that you had simply just lost them. 

But he couldn’t dwell on that for too long - because he did actually have other things to do besides viciously jerking off to thoughts about you. Even though that activity alone took up way too much of his time these days. Surprisingly, he was doing a lot better in his classes thanks to studying with you (he actually managed to retain a lot more of the material when you explained it to him), and he had just made First Line of the lacrosse team due to a horrible outbreak of pink eye. So things in his life were really looking up. 

The team funneled into the locker room, sweaty and tired after their practice, but personally - Stiles was glowing. 

He felt like he had done particularly well that day, and you had shown up to watch his practice. Even if Coach kept getting his name wrong and you had almost stormed into the middle of the field to scream at him about it. Overall, it was a good day. And he had a study date with you planned after this, so he had nothing but excitement brewing in his stomach at the idea of getting to spend more time with you. 

But then - it happened. 

He had almost completely forgotten that the contraband stolen panties were even in his bag. The item had become such a normal part of his life now that he hadn’t even considered what might happen if someone else found them on his person. So he thought nothing of putting his bag on the bench in the middle of the room and rooting through it, wide open, looking for the fresh clothes he had brought with him. (Of course, the only reason he had even brought fresh clothes was because he knew he would be hanging out with you later, and he wanted to avoid another Mustard Stain Incident.) 

When he took out these fresh clothes and began dressing (fresh out of the showers, of course) - it was just a tiny blur in the corner of his eye. Just a little streak of purple falling to the floor. As he put his second foot into his jeans, he spotted them, right there, sitting in the middle of the locker room floor - and his heart stopped. 

Naturally - someone else spotted them too. 

And just as Stiles raced to pick them up, another hand snatched them out from under him. 

“Woah, Stiles.” Danny’s voice chuckled, rising back to his full height. “Are these yours?” 

Mockery was dripping in every inch of his words, and Stiles’s heart raced. He rushed to pull his pants up, not yet fastening his zipper, and he glared at Danny, entirely lost for words. He moved to snatch the purple lace panties where Danny was dangling them off one finger, partly disgusted, partly amused. 

Naturally, Danny dodged the move, still looking at Stiles with mockery written all over his face. 

“Ya know, this really isn’t your color - red would look much better on you.” Danny smirked. 

Wait - he thought that Stiles had them because he had been wearing them? 

This comment easily caught Jackson’s attention, who slammed his locker door shut and moved to see what his friend was talking about. 

“Oh my god,” He chuckled, looking at the item in Danny’s hand and then back to Stiles, amusement spreading into a horrible grin across his face. “You’re a cross-dresser! This is too good. I always knew you were a freak, but this just brings it to a whole new level.” 

Jackson’s loud voice caught the attention of the entire team, who all craned their necks to see what he spoke of - including Scott, who practically ran around the corner with his hair still soaking wet and some suds dripping off him, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist as he raced to see what Jackson meant. 

“What?” Scott balked, looking at Stiles entirely confused. 

“Look, they’re not mine!” 

Stiles barked, panic setting in as he realized how fast the rumor would spread. It would be incredibly juicy gossip, if it were true (and most people didn’t care if gossip was true or not, which would make it spread even faster) - so he rushed to stamp it out before that could happen. 

“They belong to Y/N!” 

With this harsh declaration, he reached out and snatched them back, and Danny was too shocked by these words to move away this time. 

The room fell deadly silent, save for the distant hum of the shower that Scott had left running in his haste to watch the confrontation unfold. Everyone was staring at Stiles unabashedly now, very clearly shocked by his words. 

Fuck. 

Stiles’s heartbeat ramped up again. He had been so quick to try and exonerate himself that he had walked into a whole new problem: 

Now everyone on the team would find out that he was a panty-stealing pervert. And he wasn’t sure which reputation was worse: that, or being assumed to be a secret cross-dresser. 

“Seriously?” Isaac asked, being the first one to speak up and break the silence. “Because if you of all people managed to hit that,” He let out a low whistle, let a train blowing out a hoot of steam. “I admire you. She is so fucking hot. Normally she doesn’t give guys at this school the time of day. How did you-?” 

“No, no fucking way, they’re not hers.” Jackson scoffed, cutting off Isaac’s congratulatory words, immediately in disbelief. His natural instinct was to think that Stiles would never be able to get with someone as hot as you. “She’s a ten and you’re a solid three. Maybe. In the dark. With a bag on your head. That so did not happen.” 

Stiles frowned at the insult, but he was relieved that nobody suspected that he had stolen the underwear. Nobody had seen through him to the much more likely truth. 

“Come on, he’s like a four.” Danny added on. “He could easily be a seven if he changed his hair.” 

Feeling suddenly self conscious, Stiles put a hand up to his head - and felt entirely confused about where this conversation was going. 

“You’re getting off topic,” Scott piped up, looking between Danny and Stiles, his face nothing but pure confusion. “You’re telling us that you finally, actually went for it?” 

He was shocked that you and Stiles had gotten together without him knowing it. And he was slightly disappointed that his best friend had gotten some action with his long-time crush without telling him about it. 

“Yeah, come on - give us some details.” Isaac added on with a grin.

“Yes, yes I did! I finally went for it.” Stiles replied, mocking confidence, puffing out his chest. “Y/N and I hooked up in my Jeep last week. And these are hers,” He added on, proudly holding up the underwear as his prize. 

If he was going to screw himself with a lie, he might as well make it a big one. 

“Really?” Jackson posed, clearly still not believing him. “So - how did it go down? Did you get to second base? Third?” 

“Uh… remind me of the bases again?” Stiles muttered. 

Isaac rolled his eyes, and Scott looked as though he was making calculations in his head. 

“What was it - handjob? Blowie? Did you finger her? When did you get those?” Jackson persisted. “Is she a screamer?” 

Stiles’s gut twisted. So he was going to need details for his fake story. 

“You are so utterly barbaric.” Danny muttered, turning back to his locker, clearly tuning out of the conversation now that it had gotten too ‘straight’ for him. 

“Gross!” Scott disrupted Stiles’s internal panic with a face of twisted disgust. “Can we not talk about one of my best friends like this? Please?” 

“Jesus, Scott, don’t ruin this for me,” Isaac whined, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, McCall, shut it.” Jackson grunted, dismissing him. “I just wanna know if Stiles here is lying.” 

Scott simply rolled his eyes and retreated back to the shower. He was someone who truly believed Stiles at his word. Even if he had never smelled the pheromones of sex on him, he guessed that ‘hooked up’ meant something else to Stiles. 

Stiles hated that this left him alone with several pairs of eyes dissecting him - the guys on the team who were perverted and gossipy enough to want to know the details of his hook-up with you. 

“Well - I’m not lying.” Stiles hissed through his teeth. “She - we. Well - we made-out in the backseat. And then - she - she rode my dick. Hard.” He said, knowing that his tone didn’t sound the most confident. But he supposedly had proof right there in the form of your underwear. 

“Hmm, really?” Jackson replied, still not convinced. “You know what? Why don’t we just go and ask Y/N about this whole thing? She and Lydia are waiting outside, aren’t they?” 

Oh fuck. 

Stiles was screwed. So, so screwed. 

His stomach rose up into his throat and he couldn’t get words out, couldn’t scream out ‘no’, couldn’t do anything to stop Jackson (who was fully dressed and ready) as he snatched the underwear out of Stiles’s hand and marched out into the hallway. All Stiles could do was rush out into the hallway in pursuit, following Jackson and the group of gawking looky-loos that had followed who now seemed very interested in this piece of drama. 

Stiles didn’t even have time to pay attention to the fact that he wasn’t yet dressed himself - he didn’t have a shirt or shoes on and his pants weren’t even fastened. He couldn’t bring himself to mind because he was about to be outed as a thief and a pervert, and likely about to be violently jumped by the entire team for it. 

He wished that he still had his lacrosse pads on. 

You and Lydia were standing against a couple of random lockers, chatting idly, and you both looked utterly confused by the mob approaching. Lydia looked even more confused (with a hint of disgust) when she saw that Stiles was still half naked, and if Stiles wasn’t flooded with panic, he might have noticed you raking your eyes over his torso with a certain hunger and then licking your lips. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jackson smiled at you trying to be charming. “These fell out of-” He held up the underwear to show you, and you immediately frowned. 

“Ew! Why do you have them?” You cut him off, snatching them back before he could finish his sentence. 

“Are those your underwear?” Lydia asked, looking between you and Jackson with anger brewing. “Jackson, why do you have another girl’s underwear?” She ground out sharply. 

“Well, as I was saying,” He said, clearly annoyed. “Those fell out of Stiles’s backpack. And he claims that he only has them because he hooked up with you, Y/N,” 

You and Lydia both looked at Stiles - you, with a certain content glow in your eyes, and Lydia, glaring at him while her lips curled in unhidden disgust. Jackson stood there with a smirk, as though waiting to be right, and there was a moment where nobody spoke that Stiles swore his heart swelled up and climbed out of his throat. 

Then, you let out a soft laugh and said: 

“Yeah. We did. Why is this such big news?” 

Jackson glared at you and Lydia’s expression of disgust became even more prominent. Stiles became dizzy with shock and he hoped that nobody noticed the way his chest flexed as he let out a breath of relief. 

Thank God - you were covering for him. 

Wait. Why were you covering for him? 

“He and I have been hooking up for months now. We didn’t want to parade it around the school as gossip and I made him promise that I wouldn’t become locker room talk,” You stressed these words, giving him a small glare. 

Behind Jackson, Isaac’s face became painted with guilt. 

“But it’s true.” You said, giving Stiles an oddly sultry look. He knew he was standing there with his mouth stupidly agape, but he just couldn’t find it in him to close his mouth. “The last time we hooked up, I gave him these panties in case he got lonely on nights I can’t visit.” 

You reached out, running a single finger along his bare torso from sternum right to the waistband of his underwear where they were sticking out of his jeans - and yup, his dick was definitely ballooning to life now. 

“I didn’t intend for everybody on the lacrosse team to put their grubby hands all over them.” You said this sharply, glaring at Jackson now. 

He simply rolled his eyes in reply. Clearly, he hated the idea that he had been wrong, and he was pouting in silence now. 

“Okay, this has been sufficiently gross.” Lydia announced, effectively ending the conversation. “Jackson, can you go get your stuff so we can leave? We have dinner with my mom at five, and-” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes again. 

“Stiles, you better hurry up too.” You told him. “I need to get that bra I left in the back of your Jeep.” 

And then - much to his shock, you leaned in and laid a kiss right on his lips. Firm, but fast. Laying a claim on him right in front of everyone. Owning up to the story materially as much as you had with your words. 

If it hadn’t been for Jackson slapping him on the shoulder, Stiles would have been frozen with shock long after you pulled away. But then, he was on autopilot, walking back to the locker room with Jackson and the other onlookers who were whispering in hushed tones about him ‘banging such a hot girl’. 

“I gotta tell you, Stilinski, I did not think that you had it in you.” Jackson told him, this being a compliment coming from him. “But I guess somehow, you ended up with a ten.” 

“I definitely want more details later.” Isaac told him in a low whisper before he returned back to his own locker. 

Somehow - Stiles had come out on top in this situation. 

In the hallway behind them, Lydia sighed and locked you in a judgemental gaze. 

“Really? Stiles?” She asked, harshness seeping through her voice. 

“What?” You shrugged. “He’s cute.” 

Lydia waited for further explanation, and you folded. 

“...And he’s easy to boss around. I like it when he gets flustered from simple instructions, but then does it anyway.” 

“Oh.” Lydia nodded. “So it’s a kink thing.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. You couldn’t entirely disagree with her. 

… 

It wasn’t until Stiles was nearly finished dressing, sitting on the bench tying his shoes that it truly hit him: 

He was still utterly screwed. 

Even if the guys on the team thought he was some high school hero for somehow managing to get into your pants (some of them high-fiving him and patting him on the shoulder in congratulations before they left the locker room). And even if, for some bizarre reason, you had chosen to cover for him in front of everyone (he put that on you being a loyal best friend and quite literally not wanting to air your dirty laundry in front of everyone) - you still knew the truth. You and Stiles might be the only people who knew, but both of you still knew the truth. 

For a minute there, he had been deluded enough to start believing his own bullshit story. But it was still complete bullshit. 

There hadn’t been some heat of the moment romp in the back of his Jeep that resulted in you naked for him, losing your underwear or giving them to him as a reward. He was still a pathetic virgin who had stolen them and had no right to have them in the first place. He still had to face you, likely knowing that this was the end of your friendship, because you were the only person who knew about the horrible thing that he had done. 

Stiles dreaded facing you, but he knew that he couldn’t hide out in the locker room forever. So he grabbed his gear and he braved his way into the parking lot, where you were now waiting by the Jeep since Lydia had left with Jackson. You were distracted, looking at something on your phone, and Stiles savored the few moments he had left to admire your beauty before you would declare that you hated him forever and never speak to him again. 

In all honesty, Stiles expected you to slap him, yell at him, and then leave. He expected you to, at the very least, tell him that the friendship was over and that he should never talk to you again. 

He was entirely surprised when he approached you and nothing of that nature happened. 

Instead, you gave him a cold, uninterested look before you said: 

“Door.” 

In the most deadpan voice ever, while motioning to the passenger’s side door - oh, of course. Obviously meaning for him to open the door for you. 

It was something he usually did upon instinct anyway (always bending over backwards to impress you) but today, the intense dread hanging over his head had caused him to forget. 

He rushed to get the door for you and you climbed into the passenger’s seat as you usually did, still not yet speaking to him. So then he busied himself with putting his gear in the back, still feeling anxiety curl in his gut at the conversation that would inevitably take place during the ride home. At least you still felt okay with riding with him. Perhaps the friendship wasn’t entirely ruined after all. 

He climbed into the driver’s seat and began fumbling with his keys in nervous, shaky hands, not yet ready to look you in the eye. You were staring at yourself in the flip-down mirror, fixing your hair, wiping off some lip gloss that had smeared. Usually this would be a moment he would absolutely drink in, loving to stare at you while you did such menial tasks. But today, after being caught doing such a horrible thing, he was absolutely drenched in guilt and he just couldn’t bring himself to face you. 

The two of you simmered in the silence for a few moments. He was waiting for you to bring it up - for you to scream, yell, hit him, do something. 

He was surprised by what came next. 

“You said your dad isn’t gonna be home tonight, right?” You posed, still looking in the mirror rather than at him. 

It was what he had told you at lunch, inviting you over to watch some horror movies that you had been bugging him to see. 

He had guessed those plans would be canceled, hinging on what had just happened. 

“Uh, yeah.” He said, confirming it once again. “He’s working the night shift.” 

“Good. We’ll go to your place then.” 

You thought he would start to drive at this confirmation, but he was still unsettled by anxiety. He was still waiting for you to acknowledge it, at least. 

“Ugh, okay… are you gonna yell at me?” He burst out, knowing that it was incredibly stupid, asking to be yelled at, but he truly didn’t know what else to do at this point. You gave him a strange look, almost confused, and ran his hands over his face in frustration. “Come on! We both know what happened!” 

“Stiles, my, my… what are you talking about?” 

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm and your eyes were filled with determined mischief, and he knew then and there - you wanted him to say it. You wanted him to blatantly confirm in his own words what he had done. 

Stiles let out a harsh sigh, leaning his head down and accidentally bumping his forehead against the steering wheel in a way that made the horn dully beep, the knot growing larger and tighter in his gut. 

“Come on, you know…” 

He trailed off, hoping that you wouldn’t actually force him to say it. He sat upright again, and you continued to look at him expectantly, patiently, and he swallowed around the terrible dryness in his throat before he forced himself to say it. 

“I - I stole your underwear and kept them in my bag.” 

You both knew that he was leaving out the part where he had masturbated with them. Even if you had no proof of that, it was starkly obvious to you. 

But you decided not to push him about that detail. (For now.) 

“Oh. That.” You said, continuing to sound utterly sarcastic in your cluelessness. 

Then your tone switched to something oddly genuine as you said something he never would have expected. 

“I’ve been waiting for like a week to see if you even had them. I kind of thought I was going crazy. I thought maybe my cat stole them because you weren’t fessing up and you didn’t try to bring them back,” You sighed. “I was worried my whole plan failed.” 

Something inside of Stiles snapped, and he thought it was the last branch on his tree of his sanity. He chose not to worry about it for now. 

“Y - your plan?” He stuttered out, barely grasping at the reality of what you had meant. 

You had wanted him to find your underwear? You wanted him to take them? You wanted him to-? 

You let out a bright, amused laugh. 

“Yes, dummy!” You said, reaching up and poking the side of his head while he stared at you in utter shock. “I left the panties there for you to take. You’re cute, but god - you’re really dense sometimes.” You let out a sigh. “Now drive, please. As long as the blood currently trapped in your dick isn’t gonna distract you too much.” 

He hated that he got a sick thrill from you mocking him and calling him ‘cute, but dense’. But he was glad that he was used to driving with boners that you had given him, because it didn’t distract him too horribly. Thoughts of what would happen when the two of you got there had him running a few stops signs, though. 

…

Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure how the heinous crime of stealing your panties had gotten him into this glorious position, but with the way things were going, he no longer cared to question it. 

The minute that the two of you got through his bedroom door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a bruising kiss. He struggled to keep up, clumsy but entirely excited against the movement of your mouth, wondering if he had somehow gotten sucked into another heated daydream. 

But no, that couldn’t be true - because this was so much fucking better. 

The smell of your perfume in his nose, the little puffing breaths you let out against his cheek, the little moans that emanated from your throat. And holy hell, the feeling of your tongue shoving past his lips that caused him to let out a pathetic moan of his own as you seemed determined to filthily fuck his mouth with it. 

You were a lot more aggressive in real life than you were in his dreams. 

But he fucking loved it. He loved it so much. 

His cock was already throbbing in his pants, likely staining his boxers with copious amounts of precum as you walked him back toward the bed. You then used the hand you had in the middle of his chest to shove him roughly back onto it. 

“Oh my god.” 

He squeaked out the words at the feeling of being manhandled by you - given, he knew he didn’t weigh that much and he had made no effort to put up a fight, but it was still hot to know that you could shove him around so easily. Which was something he would have to mentally unpack with himself later. But for now, he would simply just enjoy it. 

While his dick continued to ache harder, he looked up at you in awe. You were standing at the foot of the bed with your lip gloss smeared, your chest heaving slightly with a wicked grin on your face. Stiles had never seen a more beautiful predator in all his life. The look in your eyes told him that he was about to be absolutely devoured by you - and he couldn’t fucking wait. 

“Y/N, please-” He was about to begin begging, but you cut him off sharply. 

“Shut up.” You barked, and he felt a beautiful wave of hormones crash over his body at this. You were much more aggressive than in his dreams. It was so perfect. “No more talking now.” 

You put a knee on the bed between where his thighs had naturally draped open and you leaned over his body, crowding tightly into his personal space. He hoped that the needy whine he couldn’t contain as you raked your nails across his scalp wouldn’t count as ‘talking’. He was desperate to follow your rules - so desperate to be a good boy for you. 

“You will do everything I tell you to.” You whispered against his lips, and he nearly began shaking as he resisted the urge to close the gap and kiss you again. “Unless you want me to tell all the boys on the team that you’re actually a filthy perv who stole my panties?” 

“Y-” He nearly gave a verbal confirmation of this, but then he remembered what you had said. 

No more talking. 

Instead, quickly picking up on following the rules, Stiles nodded his head aggressively. 

“From now on, you do not look at any other girl, you do not touch any other girl, you belong to me - do you understand?” 

He had no clue what ‘other girls’ you thought he might possibly be touching, or even talking to in a non-platonic way, but he got another tight thrill at being claimed as yours. He wanted so badly to be yours - to be your good boy. 

He nodded aggressively again - his tongue lolling out of his mouth, slick with want, practically drooling down his chin like a dog at this point, his eyes staring at you with a hypnotized kind of need. 

“When we are having sex, you do not speak unless prompted, you do not cum unless I give you permission, and from now on - you do not touch yourself unless I tell you to.” 

His cock throbbed weakly in protest at this. He swallowed thickly, his throat straining with complaints about your words. He knew it would be difficult to go from jerking off every morning and every night to likely not at all, but fuck - you, on top of him, you wanting to have sex with him - it was more than a fair price to pay. 

If someone had told him a week ago that he would be in this position, he would have given up anything for it. 

So naturally, he nodded again. 

“Do you understand?” 

He stayed silent, believing that he was following your rules. 

“Tell me that you understand.” 

“I understand.” Stiles breathed out in a rush, nodding again. 

“Good. Now take off your clothes.” 

You got off the bed again and he was momentarily distracted by watching you shuffle through your bag for something, but then he remembered the instruction. You wanted him to take off his clothes. You actually wanted to touch him. 

Stiles rushed to strip and he didn’t have time to be self conscious before you were kissing him again, drowning him in hot, open-mouthed kisses as he stepped out of his underwear and jeans where they were pooled around his ankles. You pushed him onto the bed again and this time followed him, straddling his waist while still fully clothed yourself. Wearing the shirt, skirt, and tights you had worn to school that day, making for an odd sensation as the fabric covering your hot cunt rubbed against his now bare, very hard dick. 

He didn’t think anything of it when you grabbed his hands and brought them above his head - but then there was fabric encircling his wrists, and he pulled himself away from your mouth to blink up dumbly, wondering what you were doing. 

You had gotten a scarf out of your bag, and you were tying him to the bedpost. 

“Remember what I said?” You grinned at him, tying a knot that was surprisingly secure. “Good boys get rewards, and bad boys get spanked.” 

He tugged experimentally on the hold, and it was pretty firm. Not tight enough to cut off his circulation - but he definitely didn’t see himself getting out of it without help. 

His stomach jumped as he wondered which you had deemed him as - good or bad. Especially because he was now tied up, completely at your mercy. He was splayed out on his back, so this wouldn’t be an optimal position to spank him in. But theoretically, you would do whatever else you wanted to him. And that thought sent an odd tingle through his body, causing a wonderful jolt through his cock.  

“I’m gonna give you a chance to earn a reward, Stiles.” You told him, delivering another messy kiss. “You gonna be a good boy for me?” 

“Yes.” He answered eagerly. “Fuck, yes - I wanna be good for you.” 

You grinned at this. 

He was more than eager to see what you were gonna do next. 

A sharp jolt of anxiety hit him when you sat up (leaning more of your weight on his cock, causing him to let out a pathetic moan) - he hated being separated from you already. He churned in anticipation as you took a moment to sit there and just admire him. 

Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured - his honey eyes glossed over with need and anticipation, his lips bitten pink and slightly swollen, parted in that beautifully dumb way as he heaved out shallow, desperate breaths. Yes, he was skinny - even playing lacrosse hadn’t managed to put much muscle tone on his body, but you did find a certain appeal in his lithe, thin form. You gained a certain thrill from knowing that you could so easily man-handle him, toss him down, and he really wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight in return. 

His cock, leaking frantically between your legs - was beautiful in its own way. A healthy six inches and nicely thick, his pubes dark, thick and untrimmed. Unkept because he definitely hadn’t been expecting anyone to see him without clothes anytime soon. Charming, in a sense. 

Just as Stiles was feeling smothered by the anticipation, by the heated gaze of your eyes running up and down his body, you then leaned to look in his bedside drawer. He wanted to scream for you not to do it, but he had a feeling that it would be breaking your rules; that it would be a ‘bad boy’ thing to do. And that would run the risk of you not touching him at all. 

You let out a laugh when you saw what was in the drawer. 

“You know, somehow I’m not surprised that this is almost empty.” You told him, bringing out the dwindling bottle of lube and placing it beside him. “You must like it really wet, huh?” 

The words were absolutely filthy coming off your lips, intentionally so on your part, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. He swallowed a whimper, but said nothing. 

“And this,” You picked up one of the many pictures he had of you in the drawer - one of you in your Halloween costume from last year. Lydia had dared you to wear something ‘slutty’, and you had shown up to her Halloween party in a black leather bra, a leather mini skirt, leather boots, and a pair of cat ears. Stiles had spent most of that night in the bathroom. “I have to say, I’m flattered.” 

You have another bright giggle before you put the picture back and then closed the drawer. 

“So - you think about me a lot, do you, Stiles?” You asked, scooting back on his thighs until you were sitting on his knees. 

Not a rhetorical question. 

He swallowed thickly, gathering himself to answer. 

“Yes.” He answered, his voice far too weak for his liking. “All the time.” 

You hummed thoughtfully at this. 

You reached to your waist, untucking your shirt from your skirt before you lifted it off completely over your head, revealing your blue lace bra to him. Dear god, you were so perfect. As you tossed your shirt off to the side, the bra strap slumped down your shoulder and he mourned over not having his hands free, wanting to gently lift it back up, or rip the whole thing off you, wanting to kiss along your shoulder-

“How often do you think about me?” You asked, reaching for the bottle of lube. 

Stiles felt a wave of shyness splash up inside of his gut. But he knew that it was useless to deny the truth now. He had already been caught, over and over again. You wouldn’t mock him now if he just admitted it. 

You cracked the top on the bottle, and the sound shook his insides - his dog-like mind so well trained to associate the sound with having his dick touched. He licked his lips, viciously trying to get his mouth to work in tandem with his brain. You had asked him to speak. He needed to speak. But that was growing more and more difficult while he stared down the ample cleavage coming out of your bra and shook with the anticipation of you about to touch his cock. 

“Every day.” He whimpered out. “All the time, I-” 

He let off a choked sound when you poured some lube into your hand and then finally, after years of him dreaming about it, you wrapped a loose, cool, wet grip around the base of his hard, leaking cock. His hips jumped up into your touch and he let out a choked sound from the back of his throat while you continued to look at him with an absolutely wicked grin. 

“Stiles,” You said his name in a firm tone, reminding him that he was supposed to be giving you an answer. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you!” He shouted, much louder than he had intended to. “All the time, I - I feel like I’m going insane. You’re too perfect, you’re too hot, I-I-I-”

“Hey, shh, baby.” You told him, running the other hand up his thigh in a way that made him gasp. 

You used that loose grip on his dick and began jerking him off, spreading the lube across him in the most leisurely way possible. It was a dull pleasure, but one so perfect because it was delivered by you. 

He had no clue how absolutely deliberate it was. But of course - everything you did with him was so deliberate, so well planned out to drive him entirely insane. 

“How often do you jerk off?” 

You asked, curiosity ripe within you as you imagined it: Stiles splayed out on this exact bed, pants around his ankles, his hand wet with lube and creating a sloppy blur on his cock as he jerked off as fast as possible, absolutely desperate to cum - his face twisted with pleasure, his thighs tensing, your name hot on his lips. 

You really wanted to know the kind of things he imagined, what made his kinky little mind tick. You wanted to know just how desperate he was to steal your panties in the first place. Did he think that he could get away without you noticing them gone or was he just too horny to care? 

You tightened your grip slightly, continuing to drag your hand up and down his dick in long, slow, deliberate strokes. You wanted him hard, throbbing, and desperate - even more so than he already was. You wanted him blinded with pleasure and begging. 

“A lot.” He breathed back, bucking his hips up to meet your touch, clearly already needy for more. 

You put a firm hand on his hip, pinning him to the bed. You tutted your tongue, scolding him. 

“Come on, Stiles.” You said, your tone somewhere between mocking and scolding. “You can be more specific than that.” 

You tightened your grip again, your hand now acting like a firm vice around his cock - something that made him moan deeply and close his eyes. You let him enjoy it for a few moments as you stroked him deeply, slowly - spreading the wetness over his cock in deep, pleasurably strokes. For the first time ever, delivering the pleasure of having a hand on his cock that wasn’t his own. 

Already, intense pleasure was knotting up in his stomach. Already - he was getting close to cumming. 

You could tell that from the way his breathing shallowed out, the way his stomach tensed. 

You pulled your hand back completely, leaving him to let out a confused sound and pop his eyes open at top speed, craning his neck up to look at you with utter disappointment while you continued to grin at him. 

“Tell me.” You instructed firmly. “How many times a week do you make yourself cum?” You continued your interrogation. When his face flashed with a streak of guilt, you changed the question. “How many times a day?” 

Stiles took a sharp breath. 

Again, he felt caught. 

“Twice.” He said it quietly, before gathering his courage. “Twice - twice a day. Usually… once in the morning and once at night.” 

You giggled. “Needy boy.” 

He was rewarded with your touch back on his cock. He let out a deep, satisfied moan as you started jerking him off again, wet and smooth, a bit faster this time. It created a lovely wet noise and he let out another moan when he heard it. 

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, Stiles?” You asked, your voice low and sultry - warm, inviting him to the possibilities. 

Perhaps, if he told you about the things he thought about, his most private and guarded thoughts, then you might make them come true. 

“You.” He moaned back almost instantly - trying to buck up into your touch again but being held down by you again. “I - I only think about you. I swear.” 

You licked your lips. 

It was something you loved to hear. But you yearned for more details. 

“Cute.” You sighed. “As flattering as that is, babe, I want specifics.” You pressed. “Specific fantasies. Come on, you must have kinks,” 

If he had to summarize it - his kink was you. 

And it was growing increasingly difficult to think with your hand pumping on his cock. 

“Your - your thighs!” Stiles blurted out frantically, saying the first thing that he thought of. 

Even now, feeling the heavy, warm fat of your thighs spread across his knees, had his cock jumping in your hand - had him buzzing and dizzy all over. It was one of his favourite parts about you, something that made him hard if your thighs brushed against him when the two of you sat too close together on the couch during a movie night. 

“Your thighs are so - so thick, and beautiful, and big, and-” He choked off into a moan when you moved your other hand to his balls, spreading some of the lube there and gently massaging them in a way that sent a jolt through his whole body, practically making him seize off the bed. 

You let out a giggle. 

“What else, baby?” 

His cock was hot and pulsing in your hand, and you knew he was close again. But you wanted him to get right to the edge before you cut him off this time. 

“I - I think about - about having your thighs wrapped around my head,” 

He choked out, stuttering as he began humping into your touch, so desperate to cum. He had pretty much forgotten about your earlier rules by now, had forgotten about asking for permission, and he just needed to cum into your touch. He needed it so badly. 

“I wanna eat you out so badly. I wanna taste you. I wanna eat your pussy. Please, please, please, please-!” 

This visceral begging tipped you off to the orgasmic delirium he was tipping into, and you squeezed your touch sharply around the base of his cock to keep him from cumming, even going so far as to give his balls a light tap in punishment. He let out a bitter gasp as his orgasm was sharply cut off, the feeling drowned bitterly in his stomach. It left his muscles so tight and left him flailing against his binds for a moment, squirming chaotically underneath you. 

“Bad boy.” You scolded him, your voice wicked and causing his dick to throb woefully in your unforgiving touch. “You didn’t ask if you could cum.” 

You leaned down and bit one of his nipples - pure teeth, unforgiving, and it made him cry out in a gargle of his own spit as his head became even dizzier. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to question why he liked the sharp spike of pain so much, especially not when his balls were throbbing so terribly, and he needed to cum so fucking badly. 

“Please?!” He cried out. “Please? Can I cum? I need it, I need-” 

“Shh, baby.” 

You hushed him again, taking your hand off his dick and leaving it to rest leaking against his stomach, running both your hands up his torso in a soothing touch as you leaned in and pressed a few sweet kisses on his open, whining mouth. 

“I’ll give you a chance to be good. Is that what you want?” 

“Please.” He replied, so desperate that he was on the verge of tears now. “I wanna be good for you, please.” 

“I’m gonna ride your pretty cock now. And if you wait to cum until I tell you,” You pressed these words hard, making sure he paid attention to this part. “Then I’ll let you eat my pussy. Does that sound like a good reward?” 

“Yes.” He replied, entirely breathy and excited. “Please, please. I’ll be good.” 

“Oh, baby. I know you will.” 

This spilled from your lips as an overly syrupy coo, and he couldn’t help but to yearn for more of that sound. 

You got off him, then, and he let out an utterly disappointed sound - instantly missing your weight and the heat of you above him. 

Stiles looked on with curiosity as you went back to your bag. His heart thumped with anticipation when you came back with a condom, and didn’t hesitate to open it and then roll it onto his still very stiff cock. (Just the few touches of you doing this had him warming with even more pleasure, and he worried that the touch of your pussy around him would cause him to cum instantly, disappointing you.) 

Then, he watched in awe as you stripped off. Your skirt, tights, and underwear, giving him a pang of disappointment that you left your bra on. You did this with intention, though, slightly worried that the sight of your bare tits would cause him to blow it too early. 

“Oh my god.” Stiles let out another whimper as you straddled him once again, putting a hand on his cock to line it up with your pussy. 

Fuck, holy fuck - this was really happening. He was really about to fuck you. He was about to fuck your perfect pussy. 

It was just as beautiful as he had imagined - covered in trimmed hair, which was glossy with your wetness. Fuck - he yearned to see that pussy spread out underneath him. He yearned to taste you. Even just feeling the heat coming off you as you lined up the tip, even through the condom - it was deadly. 

He was not going to survive this. 

He squeezed his eyes tight and held his breath, and you didn’t like that. You used your free hand to give him a light tap on the cheek - some small semblance of a slap, a grounding reminder that you were there, controlling him. 

“Hey, come on. Look at me.” 

Your words forced him to open his eyes, and he easily fell into a streak of obedience, eager to please you. His eyes snapped open and he looked right at you - absolutely enamored by your pretty face. 

“Good boy.” 

He let out another whimper at the praise. 

Then, you finally lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking down in one smooth movement until you were fully seated - tightly wrapped around his dick and resting against his bony pelvis. 

He felt like the air had been punched out of him. That perfect, tight heat being wrapped around him - the wetness leaking out around his skin at the base of his dick, everything squeezing his cock like a vice, like you were made to fit him. It made him so dizzy, stole the air out of his lungs. It was all too perfect. 

“Oh. Oh. Oh god-” He gasped out, squirming underneath you, already intensely overwhelmed by the pleasure. 

You grabbed his jaw in one hand and held him still for another kiss, and he moaned hotly into your mouth, desperation growing inside of him. 

You started slowly grinding your hips into his pelvis, wanting to warm him up gently. As you pulled away from the kiss, he was panting frantically against your mouth, already overwhelmed. 

“Hey, shh.” You told him, smoothing your hands over his torso once again. “You gonna be good for me?” 

“Yes.” He quickly moaned in return, nodding his head eagerly. 

This was a side of Stiles that you had so quickly grown to love. You knew that you weren’t going to get enough of this - this beautiful soft obedience. Especially compared to usual sarcastic abrasiveness. 

This was your good boy. And you were going to have such a good time training him, having him learn the rules. You were heavily looking forward to shutting down his future quips on a dime with a simple threat of keeping future orgasms from him. 

You positioned your weight on your knees, then, and began lifting yourself off his cock halfway before you slammed your hips back down. You put your hands on either side of his head, between where his arms were stationed above him, still tangled up in the scarf and unable to move. After a moment, you built up a good, even pace - not quite gentle, but not entirely rough either. 

You were taking it easy on him for his first time. 

Stiles continued letting out shocked pants, sounding like a man drowning on dry land, hurriedly gasping for air. Soon, he began moaning as more wild pleasure was driven through his body from the feeling of your wet pussy gripping around his cock; from the feeling of you bouncing against his balls, from the sound of that perfect wet slap every single time you landed down on him. 

It caused a terrible need to brew in his stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t be long now. 

All too soon, he was going to cum. 

“Please!” He moaned out, trying to buck his hips up to meet yours - his muscles shaking so terribly that he couldn’t keep up with your pace and ended up just jostling wildly underneath you. “Please, please!” 

You grinned. 

You knew that you wouldn’t cum from this, but you were deeply enjoying yourself anyway. Stiles looked so pretty - so pathetic and pretty - gritting his teeth to try and hold back his sounds (which wasn’t working at all), tears rimming his eyes, a few even slipping out, his face tinging a lovely shade of pink from the exertion and the pure arousal. 

“Please ‘what’, baby?” 

You pressed, a slight edge of mocking on your voice that punched another harsh wave of arousal through his gut. It took everything he had in those moments not to cum - to hold it back. To be good for you. 

“Come on, sweetheart. You can say it. Just say the words-” 

“Please lemme cum,” He whined out, the words practically turning into a slur on his lips - mirroring exactly the way he had been begging to a fictional you as he had pumped his cock while sitting on this very bed not too long ago. “Please, please, please Y/N, please-” 

You leaned down to his ear then, whispering the words he so badly wanted to hear. 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

But this time it was so very real. 

With your permission given, his brain fired off, finally allowing himself to let it go. He let out a guttural, almost non-human sound as he humped his hips off the bed in harsh, fast strokes while you fucked down onto him tightly, roughly grinding into him to allow him to get the most out of it. Wanting him to have the most pressure from your hot cunt in those moments while his eyes rolled back into his head and he released a thick load into the condom. 

He was even pretty like this - his mouth wide open, his long lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, his chest heaving as he released a concert of beautiful, whorish sounds. 

When his hips stopped and his noises dissolved off into a more gentle panting, you leaned down to kiss him again. He most definitely deserved it. 

“Good boy.” You mumbled against his mouth, eager to praise him. “Such a good boy for me. You did so good.” 

This caused another sound from him, and you simply smiled as he began to kiss you back, eager and sloppy, smearing spit across your cheek while you reached up and began untying the knot in the scarf you had secured him with. 

“You want your reward now?” You asked him. 

You couldn’t lie, your cunt was thrumming at the idea of him getting between your thighs. You wondered if he would be able to make you cum. He seemed eager to please and so far, he was good at following instructions, so you could probably tell him exactly what to do to get you off. Even if he couldn’t, you would certainly enjoy the view. 

“Yes, yes, please.” He moaned against your cheek, that desperation thrashing back up inside of him. “Please, I’ve been good, please-”

“Yes, you have been.” You soothed him again. “Good boy.” 

You released him from the binds and then finally got off him, allowing his softening cock to pop free from your pussy - something that caused him to loudly moan. 

You took off the condom and tossed it into the waste basket that he had by his desk, the lube and cum seeping into the crumbled up, forgotten papers that he had there. When you came back to the bed, he was looking at you with wide, eager eyes, waiting for his next instruction. Such a good boy. You really loved how this was turning out. 

“I’m gonna lay down, and then you can get between my legs. Okay, baby?” 

He nodded eagerly again, and hopped off the bed to give you room, nearly tripping over his own feet in doing so. 

You fluffed up his pillow and then laid down, spreading your legs wide, and when you looked back to him, he was tracing every single inch of your body with a wide-eyed gaze. His mouth was agape once again, absolutely not hiding the fact that he was absolutely lustful for you, becoming utterly distracted by the sight of you (almost completely) naked in his bed, laid out just for him. 

“Stiles.” You called his name, garnering his attention once again. “Come on, baby.” 

You held out an arm, signaling for him to come over, and he eagerly climbed into the bed between your thighs. 

You thought for sure that he would make himself comfortable down between your thighs and get right to tasting you, as eagerly as he had begged for it before, but it was his turn to surprise you now. 

“Please, can you-?” He cut himself off shyly, tracing a single finger along the cup of the bra that you still wore, the last scrap of clothing hiding your body from him. “Can you take it off?” 

That sent a thrill through you. Rather than being demanding, he was still so trepidatious - wondering if he had tread too far by asking you to remove clothing, even after you had ridden his cock. 

Still, you couldn’t help but to want to tease him - just a little bit more. 

“You wanna see my tits?” You asked, running your hands up your body, teasing your fingers along the edges of the bra cups as if threatening to pull them down. “You wanna… play with my tits, Stiles?” 

“Yes.” Stiles breathed out, entirely eager. 

You could see his cock swelling back to life between his thighs already. 

“Do you think you’ve been a good enough boy for that?” You questioned, lustful eagerness in your voice. 

His answer would entirely dictate whether or not you took the bra off. 

He swallowed thickly, still nervous, his eyes flickering between your cleavage and your own eyes, as if looking for a hint at the answer. He waited a careful moment, and then finally spoke. 

“Yes.” He said, pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to argue the point before he continued. “Yes, please, I’ve been good.” 

“Hmm…” You said, pretending to think. “Alright.” 

You reached up behind you, unhooking your bra and tossing it away. When your naked breasts were finally revealed to him, his tongue lolled out of his mouth in an almost puppy-like way, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he stared hungrily at the roundness of your perfect flesh. 

This time, he didn’t even ask you before he made his next move - entirely fueled by his own eagerness and desire, he swept down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit that told you just how much he was enjoying this, something that had your pussy getting wetter as you saw the way his eyes drifted closed with bliss while he sloppily laved his tongue over your skin. 

He was so fucking cute, so fucking pretty - so fucking perfect like this. 

He continued like this for a few moments before he trailed a line of sloppy kisses to the other tit and began sucking on that one, feeling the need to give both beautiful girls equal attention. He licked his tongue across the skin in a fat trail that had you tingling, that had your cunt clenching. You were glad he was enjoying himself, but it was making the space between your thighs feel rather neglected. 

“Stiles, baby,” You called out, starting to sound a bit breathy from need yourself. You raked your nails gently across his scalp again, causing him to let out another moan. “You said you were gonna eat my pussy, right? You don’t wanna disappoint me - do you, baby?” 

He popped off your tit immediately. 

“Not gonna disappoint you.” He said in a hurried tone, shaking his head. 

You pulled him in for another kiss, and when you released him, he rushed down to get comfortable between your legs, which you spread even more, dropping your foot off the bed on one side to give him more room. 

Your pussy was so gorgeous. 

So much better than he had dreamed of - wet, gleaming, smeared in your own juices and slightly gaped from his cock. A sight that absolutely thrilled him - seeing exactly where he had been, knowing that he had fucked you, he had been inside of you. 

The smell of your pretty cunt was something more unique than your sweat or perfume like he had originally thought. He leaned in eagerly and licked a fat, wide stripe from where you were fluttering and open all the way up to your mound, getting his first real taste of you - he let out a loud moan as it fully penetrated his senses, as everything that was you spread across his tongue for the first time. 

You were so fucking perfect. You tasted so fucking perfect. 

You let out a moan of your own when Stiles moaned against you again, the vibrations radiating through your sensitive core. This time, he latched into your clit, seemingly knowing that swollen bead was his ticket to success without you even having to tell him. He sucked harshly on it for a moment that made your thighs twitch and threaten to close around his head before he began digging his tongue against it, lapping at your cunt, trying to suck all the taste off it that he could. 

“Good boy,” You moaned, reaching out and cradling the back of his head (not having much hair to grab onto with the short buzzcut that he had) - keeping him tight against your pussy, not that he seemed intent to pull away any time soon. “Such a good boy. Good boy for me!” 

He wasn’t particularly skilled - it was obvious from a mile away that he didn’t have any experience, but fuck, he more than made up for it with his pure eagerness. He was eating your pussy like it was his last meal, moaning against you like he was getting more pleasure from this than you were - and hell, maybe he was. 

He didn’t back off or complain when you instinctively bucked your hips against his face. In fact, he seemed to take it in stride, downright enjoying the way your warm juices were smeared across his cheeks and chin, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued openly across your cunt, his drool mixing with your wetness while he moaned against you. 

“Oh, fuck! Stiles!” 

He moaned harder at the sound of his own name on your lips, so beautifully pornographic, better than he had dreamed it would be - even when he had imagined it so many times over and over again. Somehow, even when you thought he might not get you there at all, his eager performance and the vibrations from his moans against your clit had you so close already. 

“Got me so close, baby,” You moaned, scratching the back of his head. “Such a good boy, so close-” 

He moaned in response and tongued more vigorously at your clit, and you worked your hips against him, practically riding his face in order to bring yourself over the edge. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” 

You let out a throaty moan as you came, beautiful pleasure surging through your body while your back arched against the bed. Inadvertently shoving your hips even closer to his face, making him even more beautifully messy while he sucked and licked you. He loved the feeling of your body twitching and seizing underneath him, he loved hearing your gorgeous moans, he loved knowing that he had made you cum. 

He lowered his face down and shoved his tongue inside you, determined to drink right from the source then, his nose bumping against your now orgasm-sensitive clit unintentionally, making you shout loudly. This further smothered him in your essence in a way that he loved, while he shoved his tongue inside of you as far as he possibly could, absolutely loving the way your pussy fluttered around him, the way your taste overwhelmed his senses, the pure heat smothering his face. 

“Baby, baby-” 

You gasped and struggled for air, knowing that he wasn’t overstimulating you on purpose - he was just eager. And that thought alone was so overwhelmingly hot to you that you almost let him continue. But your clit thrummed with an ache of protest, and you knew that you couldn’t spoil him this much, this soon. You couldn’t handle having a spoiled brat on your hands. 

“Baby, you have to come up now!” You ordered sharply, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning, adding a tiny bite of pain to fully get his attention. 

Stiles let out a tiny whine of disappointment, but did as he was told, finally unlatching himself from your cunt. This move made a sinfully wet sound as he pushed himself up with his hands to sit between your thighs on his knees. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his once again hard, throbbing pink cock smearing precum against his stomach. 

You had a passing thought about telling him to grab another condom, but again - you didn’t need to spoil him so soon. 

You had another idea instead. 

“Oh baby,” You cooed, reaching out and loosely gripping his cock, causing him to let out a shuddering moan and buck into your hand furiously - which didn’t give him much sensation, only teased him more. “You got really excited from that, didn’t you?” 

He nodded vigorously, his mind completely mush at this point, too weak to form words. 

“Do you wanna get off against my thigh?” You purred, gently stroking your knuckles across his temple - feeling a wicked kind of joy in seeing his face smeared in your wetness, especially when paired with the dumb, glossy look in his eyes. 

He almost dared to ask for more - wanting to fuck you again, to put his cock between your tits and fuck them - but he had a feeling that you wouldn’t let him get away with it. And he wanted to be your good boy so badly. So he was willing to take whatever you had to give him. 

“Yes.” He croaked out, his voice slightly hoarse now from all the moaning. “Yes, please.” 

“Good boy.” You grinned at him. “Come on.” 

You moved your leg - already slightly stiff from how long he had been between them, stretched around his shoulders - and slotted your thigh between his. You raised it up slightly, gently propping the broadness of your flesh against his aching balls and his hard, leaking cock. 

“Wait, I want-” 

He looked around for a moment, and then grabbed up the bottle of lube where it had falling on the floor from the vigor of your fucking. He poured a good deal of it (almost emptying it) over his cock, letting it leak down over your thigh, before he capped it and threw it away again. 

You smiled. 

“You really do like it wet, don’t you?” 

He simply nodded, and began moving his hips. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed him, taking a commanding hold on those narrow hips to guide him. He easily fell under your control, letting you guide his pace - which meant he moved in slow, languid, sloppy, wet (thanks to the lube) movements across your thigh - his cock dragging against your skin in a way that was delicious, but almost not enough at the same time. 

He began letting out whimpers, his face twisting with pleasure and the need for something more as his gut curled with a distinctive ache. As if sensing this, even unconsciously, you couldn’t help your mouth. 

“You look so pretty like this,” You told him, hot and breathy. 

Turns out - that was the something ‘more’ he so desperately needed. Hearing you call him ‘pretty’ would have been an insult on any other day, but today, it was downright delicious. Your voice curling around the word, directed at him - it felt like something he had been waiting to hear his whole life. 

“I love seeing you get off against my thigh, rubbing your pretty cock against me,” 

Stiles let out a moan and you felt him fighting to move faster, so you encouraged it, pushing and pulling his hips faster, causing more delicious friction on his cock. 

“Please, please-” He gasped. 

You knew it wouldn’t take much more. 

“You know, I’ve probably been waiting for this just as long as you have,” You whispered lowly in his ear, finally confessing your secret. “I’ve been watching you every single day, seeing how wonderful and dumb you are when you stare at me for hours, thinking I don’t notice. And I’ve just been waiting to pin you up against something and fuck your pretty little brains out-” 

Your words were cut off by him crying out, a wet splash against your thigh that had alerted you to him cumming. This was almost pathetic, just a few spurts of cum before it was over (you guessed that with how often he jerked off and from the fucking earlier, you had practically drained his balls). It made you curious if forcing him to abstain from masturbation for a few days would yield more impressive results. 

An experiment for later, you guessed. 

“Good boy.” 

You pulled him into another kiss, ultimately satisfied by the end result of your plan - leaving your panties on your bed as bait for Stiles to find as a way to gently tip him off to your attraction to him. It had worked out in the very best way. Even if you had to wait more than a week for the wheels to truly set in motion. 

… 

After a joint shower (which was filled with Stiles grinning at you, clearly soaking up the beauty of his luck in landing someone as gorgeous as you) - you changed the sheets on the bed while he made something to eat, and after the two of you ate together, you tucked him in to go to sleep. 

He was disappointed that you couldn’t stay the night, just as excited to do other non sexual things with you like wake up in your arms and hold your hand in the hallways at school - but you did have to get home before your curfew. Just as he was dosing off, you kissed him on the forehead, and you thought of something delightfully naughty for him to wake up to, even if you couldn’t be there. 

You took off the underwear that you were wearing - a pair of lacy blue ones, to match your bra - and you pinned them up on his corkboard for him to find in the morning. 

A perfect little present for your good boy.

… 

The next morning, Stiles woke up to a knock on his bedroom door. 

“Okay, rise n shine, kid, time for-” 

His father’s voice cut off abruptly, and Stiles didn’t have time to ponder why before-

“Dear god, what the hell is that?” 

Stiles shot up out of bed, practically falling on the floor, wondering what it could be - monster, werewolf, hunter, someone with a gun-

His eyes landed exactly where his dad was looking, and he was relieved not to find danger, and then terribly embarrassed to see your underwear from the day before pinned to his corkboard, spread out in plain view. Stiles immediately went into damage control mode. 

“Look, Dad, I can explain-” 

“You know what? I don’t wanna know.” His dad said firmly, making a motion with his hand that said he was brushing away the subject. “Just - get ready for school.” 

His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway, turning back to Stiles in a way that made his gut churn. 

“Just - did you use protection?” 

Stiles almost offered to show his father the used condom that was still sitting in the trash can - even if only as proof that the night before he had a real, living girl in his room. But he figured that would be going too far. 

“Yes.” He answered, calm and short. 

His dad nodded, and moved to leave again. He made it a bit further down the hallway this time before he turned around and appeared in the doorway again. 

“Son - you know, women aren’t objects, you can’t claim them like sexual conquests, and they deserve respect-” 

“Dad.” Stiles sharply cut off whatever speech his father was about to give, wanting his father to know that he hadn’t pinned the underwear to the corkboard himself. He wasn’t some fratboy who celebrated getting laid with a fucking trophy. 

“She - she gave them to me.” He said. “She did that.” He motioned to the underwear, and his father’s face shifted from anger to deep discomfort. 

“Oh.” He said simply. “Well - I - okay. I don’t wanna know any more.” He said firmly. “And for god’s sake, son, take them down.” 

Stiles nodded, rushing to do so. 

He was going to take them down - but he wasn’t rushing to give them back to you anytime soon.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and this has a distinct, intentional ending. There will NOT be a continuation or a 'Part 3'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for another sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider checking out my other fics about the criminally underrated character Isaac. Fics similar to this one are: Eager Little Puppy and Why Am I The One?

Or if you want more fics about subby boys, consider checking out Tongue Twister, Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop), or Lessons For A Genius.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

[vaxxman]

Oh I'm sad to see people didn't like comic 7, I thought it was very well done.

This isn't an invitation to an argument, I just want to say my opinion because I'm seeing a lot of people criticising the last chapter.

We got a lot of answers and everything that seemed conveniently placed for plot was completely in the scope of how the previous stories have worked before. I thought it was funny that soldier lived in a cave of Australium. It's just as convenient as Medic having a deal with the devil and the mercs being unable to die. Or Grey Mann having a daughter who no one wants to punch in a fist fight. Or Sniper's parents coincidentally being involved with the sinking of New Zealand.

I think it was a very good choice to not let the mercs do anything plot driving in this chapter, because this conflict was never a conflict that could have been ended by the mercs. They wouldn't even have cared, heh. We've known that everything was carefully orchestrated by the Admin, so it could only have been resolved by those who are part of the bigger conflict. Hence Miss Pauling, the Admin and Saxton do most of the plot. Everyone else already had a lot of screen time in the previous chapters, but none of their stories were truly contributing to the actual conflict at hand, so the story can't come to an end until we actually see the person who's been pulling the threads actually come to terms with what she was doing. I'm very happy that her ultimate plan turned out to just be a pointless act of revenge, since we've all known from the start that the gravel wars are pointless. This is just one more dimension deeper into how pointless it is.

Managing to resolve the story and making sure all characters receive a happy end the way they did was more than I had hoped for comic 7. But just to summarise how I think everyone received their peace of mind across all comics:

1. Sniper: Finds out he's adopted -> figures out his step parents were his true family after all

2. Spy: Really wants to tell Scout that he's his dad -> actually manages to say the words, even if he wasn't honest with his appearance

3. Soldier: Delusional hater of commies -> marries a Russian woman and stops claiming racist things, because Zhanna as a person was more important to him than whatever he believed about Russian people. Still weird, not with less delusion but genuinely a sweet father and husband. Exaggerated and maximally silly way of how to actually change people's racist opinions in real life.

4. Scout: Upset that he can't get laid and thinks he has to be More Man -> glows up by becoming a dad who steps up and is less preoccupied with getting the girl of his dreams. His kids are what matters to him now and he becomes like his mom

5. Heavy: Worried about his family in Siberia -> his sisters show him they don't need him to protect them all the time and everyone moves to America so he can be with them. His sisters get to live freely.

6. Engineer: Is involved with the conflict since his grandpa, and is contractually unable to stop it -> tells Miss Pauling to sink all Australium in a trench so this never happens again

7. Saxton Hale: Wants to go back to the time when he was still actively doing things, gets his company stolen -> gets his company back but realises it doesn't make him happy. Leaves his company and joins Maggie again because fighting alongside her was what he's always wanted since we got glimpses of his past

8. Miss Pauling: Thinks the Administrator has a great plan that desperately needs her -> learns the plan was nothing at all and decides on the spot to end it by not giving Admin any more Australium because she realises she has been feeding into the conflict

Medic, Demoman, and Pyro never had a personal conflict to resolve. Medic had his moments to shine by sabotaging TFC and being in hell then coming back. Demoman had his arc with his liver leaving him and defeating the robots due to the alcohol in his blood. Medic scooped out parts of his brain to keep him unquestioning about his eye. Pyro is just a very simple character, and I say that with no judgement at all. Pyro is happy with arson, but also with a Dalmatian as their pet.

Everyone is still friends with each other and have their own little families. They come together to celebrate Smissmass at Scout's place. I think Saxton's last line "or do you want to live forever" was so well placed, being a nod to the meme from Expiration Date, as well as pointing out that, obviously, things have to come to an end we should embrace that ending when we see it's time.

And as always. If anyone doesn't like that any of these things, we are still free to make our own stories and reinterpret characters.

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 14)

Contains: no warnings really

Wordcount: ~2.44k

Masterlist of this story

It was a grey afternoon when Aegon Targaryen finally arrived two days later.

There was a gathering, fanfares and music for the future lord of the seven kingdoms and in addition to Maera and the court there were also some common borns that watched as the crown prince hugged his father.

"My son is back!" he shouted and proudly patted his shoulders.

Aegon had grown into a handsome and slender man, silver blonde of hair and a pronounced jaw. He smiled shyly and waved to the people and then made his way to greet the rest of his family that he hadn't seen in so long.

Maera returned her brother's croaked smirk and then closed her eyes when he wrapped his arms around her.

"How are you, sister? I've heard so much…"

"I'm fine. And very happy."

The hug had lasted only a few seconds and then he held her a little away from him to examin her accurately.

"It's very good to see you," he said after a while and then was quick to turn to Daemon.

"Uncle," he spoke a lot more reserved.

An amused smirk played around the addressed's lips and he inhaled deeply.

"Nephew. How was your tour? I haven't heard a great deal about it."

"No wonder. You seemed to have been occupied elsewhere. Getting my sister pregnant, for example," Aegon hissed sharply and flashed his eyes at Daemon.

Maera's uncle watched him with a mixture of amusement and menace.

"Be careful with your words. You wouldn't want to humiliate your sister in front of the whole court, would you?"

His nephew scoffed and shook his head.

"That's not what I'm after, no. But it seems like that's what you had in mind when you kidnapped her and dragged her to dragonstone."

Maera just had to intervene now and tried to push her brother away from her husband.

"Please Aegon. Don't make a scene. Everything is fine, you don't need to step in for me."

"I'm not making a scene," he answered the anger clearly showing off in his voice. "I'm trying to defend my sister and restore her honour. If there's anything left of it."

Now it was her uncle that narrowed his eyes at the crown prince and his facial expression turned cold.

"Now you're insulting your sister. And as her husband it is my place to tell you that you're not to say another thing about my wife's honour. Have I made myself clear?"

Aegon chuckled and flared his nostrils in the next moment. "It's not your place to tell me what to do!"

To Maera's relief her father finally noticed the confrontation between his brother and his son and he furrowed his brow while approaching the scene. She sighed thinking that someone with a certain authority would finally deescalate whatever this was.

"Aegon," he hissed and placed hand on his shoulder. "Behave yourself."

Unwillingly his son took his eyes off Daemon and instead glared at the king.

"How can you accept this? How can you host him like that and feast with him in your own halls??"

Maera instinctively reached out to her uncle and blindly searched for his hand which he gave her and she gripped it tightly.

"This is a lawful marriage, son. And you wouldn't actually assume that I would send my own brother away and deny him a place in my court, would you? You should apologize to your uncle for questioning his marriage."

For the first time Aegon seemed defensive and lowered his gaze. His father observed him expectantly and seemingly waited for another complain but he just looked like he was searching the ground for something until he lifted his gaze again to glance at his uncle.

"Forgive me, uncle," he breathed and judging by the way he had gulped, these words had been hard for him to say.

The addressed nodded graciously and this smug smile just wouldn't vanish from his face.

Soon the process made their way back to the castle and in the meantime Viserys announced that there would be a feast in honour of the crown prince's return tonight and the surrounding lords and ladies cheered and smiled at the royal family.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the evening a couple of handmaidens helped Maera prepare herself for the glorious ball that her father had described the upcoming feasting as and watched the crimson velvet fabric of her dress in awe. It exposed her collar bones and was tight on her torso which made it a form-fitting gown fit for a wedded princess. The dress fell down to the ground looking both heavy and effortless at the same time with the hem touching the ground just slightly like a brush of a finger. She also wore a necklace that felt cold when it touched her but its rubin looked glorious on her light skin.

Daemon who had gotten dressed in a different room knocked on her door just when she was finished and Maera thought that he might be able to read her thoughts.

His eyes flashed up when he laid them on her the first time and he unshamelessly regarded her whole body. Under his gaze Maera felt both intimidated and beautiful and suddenly she felt like her skin was in flames.

"You look stunning," he whispered so quietly that she knew those words were only meant for her ears. "Absolutely beautiful."

Maera broke into a smile and felt this familiar heat between her legs when her husband pressed a kiss on her forehead. She felt like she was turning into an animal when he was that way. When he gave her these intense eyes, watched her as if she was all he had ever wanted and spoke to her so gently that Maera believed she genuinely had never been loved by someone like this before.

"Thank you," she breathed and tried to focus. It indeed was a bad time to feel heated because there was a feast they had to attend and so Maera exhaled a few times and she savoured the breeze that came with the opening of the door. The dizziness faded and she felt stronger on her feet as Daemon guided her through the corridor heading to the throne room.

They were greeted by her brother who actually seemed to pull himself together and returned the honest smile Maera gave him. Then they took their seat next to the king and Maera let her eyes wander over the room.

The hall was generously decorated with candles, tapestries and the Targaryen banner majestically towering beside the king's table. A group of musicians played lively music and lords and ladies were already exuberantly dancing in the middle of the room. Soon Maera felt too excited and jittery to sit around and questioningly looked at Daemon.

"I wish to dance, uncle."

He had just lifted his cup to his mouth and watched her with raised eyebrows while taking a sip of wine. Then he placed it back on the table in front of him and a playful smirk appeared on his lips.

"Is that so?" he asked and ran his hand over his wife's thigh.

"Please. I don't want to sit around all night."

He chuckled lightly but then sighed and got off his chair.

"Alright. If I may?" he asked sarcastically while offering his niece his hand. She felt a bubbly feeling in her tummy and joyfully took his hand.

Daemon guided her down the few steps to the dance floor where she spotted several lords of her father's small council as well as his hand. Her husband rested one of his hands on her waist and then the couple started to move to the music.

Maera smiled up to him. He looked so gorgeous in this light and she simply loved it when his eyes turned so soft and loving. There was a smile on his mouth as well and right now there was nothing sarcastic about it. It was a genuine, honest smile and she couldn't help but feel proud knowing that she was one of the few people in this world who got to see it. Gods, she wanted him so badly in every way someone could want a man. She wanted him to love her, hold her, touch her and praise her. And seven hells, she wanted to carry his child again.

"Kiss me," Maera whispered quietly and now his smile turned into a smirk again.

"Tsk tsk. That's not the kind of behaviour fit for a princess," he said with his raspy voice and Maera swore she felt her heart beat faster just because of the sound of his voice.

"Please," she demanded again and this time Daemon inhaled loudly but looked amused rather than annoyed.

He leaned down and pressed his soft lips on hers. She knew that it was not only inappropriate but also disrespectful towards her brother who had so explicitely expressed his dislike regarding her marriage to Daemon earlier but she couldn't care less. The only thing Maera cared about was the gorgeous man in front of her who only loved her.

But the kiss didn't last long either way because he soon pulled away hinting at the fact that unlike her, he hadn't utterly forgotten about his good manners. He watched her glossy eyes that showed how much she yearned for him smugly and then ran his thumb over her waist just very slightly.

"You're making it very hard for me not to take you away from the feast and up to my room right now."

Maera felt goosebumps on her arms but just when she wanted to answer the music suddenly stopped and the dance was over. That was also the moment when someone approached Daemon from behind and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"If that's not Daemon Targaryen," a voice said and Maera blinked a few times trying to figure out who the slim small man was.

"Otis," Daemon chuckled and didn't seem to have any difficulties recognizing him.

"Maera, this is Otis, a good friend from my childhood. And Otis, I don't believe I have to introduce the princess to you."

She smiled when the man bowed his head and kissed the back of her hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, ser," she said. "We haven't seen each other in years, have we?"

Otis asked and grinned at his old friend. "That much is true."

"How about a drink together? We have so much to talk about."

Daemon nodded but then his eyes fell upon his wife. He really didn't feel like leaving her alone especially considering the fact that there were so many lustful lords in this room who were probably only waiting for a chance to creep up on her. But at the same time Daemon didn't want to reject his friend and he really wanted to know what he had been up to those past years. So he would just have to trust his wife.

"I will be back soon, love. I'm just gonna go sit outside with Otis for a little while so we can catch up," he spoke and kissed Maera on her forehead. "Don't do anything stupid, you understand me?"

She nodded and observed her husband while he rubbed over her shoulder one last time before heading out with his friend. She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't notice the man staring at her at first but once Daemon had left the hall she turned her head only to look right into the eyes of Cylvin Lannister.

She had known him since she was a child and had always despised him. She hated the way his eyes clenched and Maera had found herself feeling scared of him as a child but now he just disgusted her. His company was definitely the last thing she wished for now so the girl started to make her way through the crowd but unfortunately he was faster than her and managed to cut her way off by stepping in front of her.

"Princess," he said and bowed his head.

Maera gave him a forced smile that he seemingly couldn't distinguish from an authentic one because he took it as an invitation to kiss her hand.

"You look lovely tonight, my princess."

"Thank you," she said curtly.

"I hope your husband is aware of his luck. Having the most beautiful woman in the room at his side, I mean." Cylvin grinned and she felt the urge to throw up right in this moment.

"He is, thank you," Maera answered and was certain that by now her disgust was clearly visible on her face. "Will you please excuse me now, ser? My father has asked for my presence."

She gave him her sweetest smile but before she was able to turn around and walk away he stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder.

"But sweet child, your father seems pretty engrossed in a conversation, he can surely do without your presence for a few more minutes."

At this point Maera grew very angry and was about to give a snappy answer when she heard another voice.

"Excuse me ser, but he can't. You won't mind me escorting the princess to his grace now."

She turned around and looked into the familiar face of lord Jakor Hightower, a lord in her father's council. Cylvin grinded his teeth but acted indifferently towards him.

"Of course, yes."

The rest of his mumbling Maera couldn't understand but it didn't matter now because he had turned around and left the dance floor. The girl exhaled loudly and looked at her saviour.

"Thank you, my lord."

He smirked at her croakedly. "You're very welcome, princess. I saw you and believed that you might need some rescue."

Maera chuckled and was able to relax now in lord Jakor's presence, who she had always liked for his calm and even-tempered character.

"Yes, he… I've never liked him and he wouldn't leave me alone."

"I don't like him either. He smells of burnt hair, for some weird reason. And spoiled cheese."

Maera had to laugh out loudly and then furrowed her brow.

"I don't like his eyes. They're mean and… evil."

Jakor looked at her thoughtfully but then smiled softly.

"Don't think about his eyes then. May I have this next dance, princess?"

She only fought for a brief moment with herself. He had rescued her so it would be rude to refuse.

And it was only a dance after all and Maera knew Daemon to like and respect the lord as well.

He surely wouldn't have anything against it.

~~~~~~~~~~

I swear, the next chapter will be longer!!

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18 @aleemendoza2425-blog @chiminies-noona

[bunnyinfoxclothing]

Holiday headcanon for you :)

I imagine Christmas is a big thing in Heaven, and Vaggie really enjoyed it. Once she was cast out she figured she wouldn’t get to celebrate again, since why would demons do Christmas? Then Sinsmas rolls around, and while it’s not Christmas Charlie gets really into it and Vaggie thinks she might actually prefer it.

This was so much fun to write. Send me more headcanons. Plz and thank you!

----------- Vaggie can feel the holiday season. It twitches in the muscles that were once used to support her wings. It burns in the acid of her stomach that rises to her throat. It chills in the heat that no longer exists in the bodies around her. It stings her eyes as she peers at the fires down below, just as it did when she awed at the lights above.

She remembers the grand celebrations of the Nativity. The praises of Christ's birth. Music played without the need for speakers, it was a heavenly tune that one couldn't help but hum. The hums turning to hymns of praise. The virgin Mary with child was depicted on every corner. It was her that took focus, because it was only though her suffering that He could walk the earth.

She remembers the banquets, with abundant, radiant food, shared among saints and angels. They shared stories and culture as they feaster on each of their own favorite food. There was no shortage of divine feasts, everyone welcome to each one.

Each one accompanied by a joyous gathering. Loved ones reunited, sharing love and stories in peace and harmony. A time to remember moments alive and bask in the happiness that you can only gain loved ones from here on out.

She remembers choir performances. Heavenly choirs singing sacred Christmas carols, filling the air with joy. Some brought together after years of practice to perform for events. Others brought together when hums became hymns.

She remembers the gift giving. There was the traditional gifts of hand knits sweaters and gaming consoles. But in a place where you can have anything spiritual gifts were more common. Spiritual gifts of grace, blessings, and peace exchanged among the faithful.

She remembers the light displays. The light displays. Radiant and ethereal displays of divine light, symbolizing the arrival of Christ. There was nothing comparable to its beauty. The night sky would clear of stars and the sky would bloom with ribbons of light. Streaks of gold and violet unfurling like celestial brushstrokes across the dark canvas. The air felt charged, alive with the quiet majesty of something beyond comprehension, as if the universe itself had paused to witness its own beauty. Everything breathing in perfect harmony.

It was a time for quiet reflection on the meaning of Christ's birth and all that humanity had suffered and will suffer. Every body was living proof of the hope that love brings. And hope that people continue to choose good.

It was gone.

It was all gone.

The only time God's name was spoken here was if damnit was quick to follow.

Vaggie leaned against the railing resting her head against her hands as she stared down at a flickering fire as she watched as yet another sinner was tossed into the pile of boring bodies.

God damnit.

She rubbed at her eyes as they stung with the ash from below. She hoped it was just ash.

A hand came to rest on the small of her back. She jumped just enough for her back to meet the soft front of a body she knew all too well.

"Charlie." Vaggie smiled.

"Hey, pretty bird. It's the Sinsmas Season and I feel like I'm doing all the work." Vaggie smiled. Charlie rarely used pet names for her, mainly because they did things to Vaggie that made it hard to focus and they had a hotel to run.

"Shit. Sorry Hon, I was just lost in thought. I can help now. Do you want me on Hotel work or..." Vaggie froze at the look on Charlie's face.

"I want you," Charlie kissed her nose. "To come downstairs and sit with everyone and just relax." Charlie placed another kiss on her vacant eye. "Please."

How could she say no.

Walking downstairs, Vaggie was met with quite the sight. The hotel residents getting along wasn't rare. The residents getting along while doing the same activity was. The residents getting along while doing one of Charlie and Vaggie's bonding activities, and not making fun of it, was impossible.

Yet here they were.

Everyone was in their own little area of the hotel lobby. Each person decorating their own little tree. Tinsel was wrapped around in each persons signature colors.

Angel decorated some parts with pictures. Most from his photoshoots at work, most were surprisingly tasteful with not too much on display.

Nifty's had cleaning supplies unsurprisingly, but also tufts of fur and both surprisingly big and surprisingly small bugs threaded together like popcorn on a string.

Alastor, Vaggie had expected to be covered in gore, like sinner parts with a head on top like a twisted angel. But no. It was mostly decorated with fabric. And various pieces stolen from Charlie's dad. Namely a duck at the top, disfigured and bloody.

Lucifer himself was glaring at Alastor, his own tree not too far away decorated solely with ducks. Each one depicting a different person.

Husk had cards decorated around as well as one of angel's pictures or the entire hotel crew. Alastor pointedly crossed out. There were also mini shots hung around the tree. And the two things that caught Vaggie's eye the most was one of her feathers, as well as one of his own.

Charlie pulled her along to two trees. They were extremely close together, considering the distance every other tree had from one another.

One was vary obviously Charlies. Aggressively red and gold with imagery of the whole hotel, but also a lot of Vaggie. Primarily Vaggie. Where husk had one of her feathers Charlie had been collecting feathers from at least the last month or two.

The other tree was bare.

"Okay." Charlie smiled and bounced in place. "You can decorate it however you like and- I mean..." Charlie seemed to get a little nervous. "No pressure, but if you want anything from me, just let me know. I don't know what specifically you can take, but i'm sure we can-"

"You should put her jizz in a small vial and hang it up!" Angel called from across the room, barely able to get it out through the laughter.

"I mean if that's what you want?" Charlie seemed genuinely confused, but not opposed.

What.

"I am confused."

"This is your sinsmas tree."

"Yes. Got that."

"It's for pride." Charlie gestured to her own tree, then tilted her head "Well technically this is for both Pride and Greed. There is some overlap."

When Vaggie didn't immediately answer Charlie explained. "Well it's about what you are most proud of. And that sort of extends to greed in the sense of look what I have." Charlie's eyes widened. "But like not in an ownership way. But also very much in a possessive almost ownership way. So I guess it can also count as Envy?"

Vaggie's eye widened this time.

"What I mean to say, is this is what I have. It is what I am proud of. And if you so much as lay a finger on it. I am going to fuck you up. Maybe this is also Wrath??"

"Is there something for every sin?"

"Oh yeah!" Charlie sits herself down in front of the tree, grabbing Vaggie's hand and bringing her down too.

Vaggie gets pulled down until she is comfortably leaning against Charlie. With enough room that she can move and adjust to rest her head in Charlie's lap if she wanted.

"So there isn't just one thing for you to do, you don't have to decorate the tree for Pride if you don't want to."

"Tell me how you like to."

"Okay." Charlie smiles. "I like the tree for Pride. It is something nice for me to look at. I have everything I want here. When you're upstairs and my dad is in his tower and Angel is at work and with Sir Pentious in Heaven and my mom..." Charlie trailed off. "You're all right here."

Vaggie nodded letting Charlie speak.

"Pride is about reveling in your own greatness, showing tokens of achievement and power, celebrating yourself and all you have done. And I have you. You are my greatest achievement. It's possessive. I know it is. A part of me wants to tie you to my tree."

Hot.

Charlie sighs adjusting herself. "Anyways, there is also Greed. The Hotel itself is our Greed. You can have your own if you want, but Greed is about over abundance. To fill that desire to amass, and own, and indulge without limit. It's like the gluttony of material things. It's a symbol of prosperity and success. I like to amass and over indulge in people. It's like my own personal hoard here."

Vaggie couldn't help but be curious. "What about Wrath. There's not some fight I need to worry about breaking out is there?"

"Wrath isn't about violence." Charlie shakes her head. "It's about passion through action. It isn't something you need to build or make, but something you change in yourself. Sinners and Hellborn are encouraged to embrace their anger to fuel self-improvement and transformation."

"Like a new years resolution?"

"What's new years?"

"It's basically a celebration of the end of a year and an excuse to get drunk and kiss someone."

"That's extermination day."

"So tell me more about Sinsmas."

"Uhhhh, Envy. Right. Well Envy is a time where we take in what we have done for Pride, the trees, and see what makes us jealous. Alastor took Dad's duck. I'm half sure that's just out of spite, but there could be a reason."

Vaggie held back a laugh.

"But Um Husk. He took one of Angel's photos. Husk talks to everyone sure, but it's like he says. Everyone looks to the bartender for advice."

"I don't think that's what he says specifically"

"AND so, he doesn't have the same relationship with everyone that angel has. He is jealous of that. If he wants he will use that as his Wrath."

Vaggie smiled. This was all such positive take on each of the sins. She wanted Charlie to keep talking. "I imagine gluttony is just a big feast."

"Nailed it right on the head. It's a time to savor the moment. And the flavor, but it's about indulging in food and drinks and in a way companionship."

"Tell me more."

"Sloth and then you decorate your tree."

"Deal."

"Sloth is about taking a break. It's hard. Living in Hell I mean. I'm- the sins, Dad, me. We're not blind to it. People are suffering here. It's a moment to take a break from all of that. To just sleep and know that tomorrow you will be okay. It's about taking as much self care as you can."

Charlie smiled.

"Speaking of... I booked us a spa day in sloth. It's not for another few weeks, but that will be my sloth covered. You pick yours and we'll do that too. I'll plan it if you want."

Vaggie giggled. "Sure, hon."

"Okay. Up an at 'em. It is tree time."

Vaggie still has no idea what to put on the tree. So she starts small. Pride was weird. The earliest thing she can remember taking pride in was the exterminations. But that's not something she can say she's proud of anymore. She likes her spear. She's proud of how well she uses it, but she can't just hang it up.

She looks at Charlie. That's an obvious one, but Charlie didn't loose feathers the way Vaggie did.

That was a start. Vaggie was proud of her wings. A proof of her love to Charlie. She unfurled one, taking it in hand and forcefully plucking a few feathers. It hurt, but only for a few moments. Like plucking her eyebrows, just with a bigger surface area of pain. She littered them here and there.

Tomorrow she would fly to the Carmines. Ask for a spare spear. Something from them if she had the courage. If not the spear could work for both. Maybe just a spear head to work as a tree topper.

Vaggie began to work. Starting with the purple tinsel Charlie had ran to fetch just for her. Running upstairs she grabbed a picture of her and Charlie. She grabbed a few knickknacks that Charlie had gotten her while out on trips to other rings. Back when she didn't know Vaggie could join her.

There was just one thing missing.

Vaggie turned to Charlie. "Can you make something for me."

Charlie's eyes brightened. "Absolutely." Her creation magic already bursting to light. And as Vaggie spoke it slowly took form.

It was Vaggie gilded in gold.

Not how Charlie saw her. It was Vaggie with all her imperfections. Without the eyepatch or the X over her eye. In all her short stature, muscular almost man-ish back and weird stomach. Both coming from the muscle of her wings. Her wings not out on display but neatly tucked behind.

This wasn't Vaggie the protector.

Or Vaggie the angel.

Not even Vaggie the girlfriend.

Just Vaggie.

In all her imperfect glory.

Charlie smiled as she looked up at the tree. It's perfect. They were only in the lobby for three hours at most. The other Hazbins were settling down to watch a movie. Lightly arguing over which to watch as Charlie gently took Vaggie upstairs.

"You know. There was a sin I forgot to mention."

"Hm?"

Vaggie smiled as Charlie picked her up. Her legs naturally coming to wrap around Charlie's waist, as Charlie unlocked the door to their room.

"It's about indulging in the beauty of passion. Attraction. Sensuality." Charlie started to sway slightly. "It is celebrated with decadent feasts and sultry dances."

Vaggie shivered as Charlie annunciated each syllable of decadent.

"Love and intimacy are celebrated as powerful here. They are divine forces that unite people in their most authentic forms." With a burst of heat she felt Charlie change under her fingertips. Her own wings coming out in full force. Flapping once. twice. Three times before settling on her back.

One of Charlies hands came up to caress the feathers a low moan escaping her as if it were Charlie's own body she were playing with.

"Lust." Vaggie gasped.

"At your command." Lust answered.

[grumpchump]

Adding the full yap because a few people asked for it !

(no fast pass spoilers, I'm not caught up yet anyway!)

I feel like this theme applies to almost every character in the main cast.

First of all, we all know that one of Chase's biggest aspirations is to be a famous singer, even though nobody in his life really thinks he can do it. He seems perfectly aware of this. He knows that everyone thinks his dream is impossible, and maybe part of him thinks the same thing, but he just doesn't care. He's still extremely determined to realize his goals despite what everyone thinks of him.

Buddy especially doesn't think very highly of him (at first!)- throughout a good portion of the season, he constantly assumes Chase is going to give up the stories as soon as they get hard. But as Chase says in Sick Day, it's not his style to give up. He is so much more than what a lot of people expect him to turn out to be and he's so cool and I love him so bad

This applies to Buddy pretty obviously too. He's meant to be a cold and ruthless villain, and he certainly does try to be that. He's tough and more than a little mean at times, but we can see pretty consistently that he isn't as heartless as he might want people (Chase) to think. Even from the beginning when he's determined to antagonize Chase and get his key, he drops hints and helps him to finish the stories.

I always thought the scene in the Cinderfella arc where he tells Chase that he can eat the storybook food was really interesting. Like, he has no incentive to do that. He has no reason not to sit by and watch Chase suffer wanting to eat the desserts. But instead he does this small act that is, whether intentionally or not, actually kinda nice of him. It's just another small moment that shows that the villain persona people expect of him isn't really all that he is.

(This is a smaller thing, but I think with his exterior and how he acts in the books, we kind of expect him to be cunning and hard-working. I believe Punko said in a Q&A that in his free time he's actually an extremely lazy person, contrary to how we usually see him. I'm just mentioning that because I think it's funny and I love him a lot.)

Deacon is an extremely complex character with so many layers that I honestly am still grappling with, this guy's really cool.

A lot of his struggles are with the expectations placed on him. We know his whole life and career have been planned out for him by his parents. There's constantly a lot of pressure on him to work hard at this path that has been chosen for him, but in reality, he doesn't want any of it. My man just wants to read his shitty fantasy novels and chill with horses, give him a break !!

He's also constantly trying to defy his role as the helper key (specifically in Sick Day and The Book of Deacon). I think it's really interesting how he struggles to accept his role. Chase and Buddy don't actively try not to be the hero and the villain, they just naturally are more morally grey with it. Deacon, on the other hand, is almost a little desperate to go beyond being a helper and fall into another alignment, acting carelessly and causing trouble because of it. And the thing is, it makes perfect sense why he'd do it.

Books are very much a source of escapism for him. Actually getting to LIVE OUT the books is extremely exciting. Inside the books, he has a chance to escape his parents' expectations- being the helper, though, he just feels like he has a new set of expectations placed on him. Once he actually gets to be the hero in The Book of Deacon, he learns that this role is just as tough- again, he's trading one set of expectations for another. There's really no winning for this man lol. but im getting a little off topic here.

What Deacon needs is to reject the expectations his parents have placed on him and do what will make him truly happy. We can see how Buddy and Chase sort of naturally deviate from their expectations just through being themselves, but Deacon is still struggling in this process. Deacon is struggling to be himself in the way Buddy and Chase do.

There is still that level of acceptance he needs to have for his current situation though, specially in his helper role. He's still struggling to grasp all that being a helper means and how it's still just as important a role to take on as the hero or villain. He needs to find a way to balance his responsibilities and his happiness.

In Prunella's case, it's a bit harder to say- as of Friends and Family, we haven't gotten to spend as much time with her as the boys, so we're still learning more about her. I think the irony of this little girl getting to play the role of the big strong hero is sort of a subversion of expectations in itself lol.

We've also seen her upbringing. We've seen her mom. We've seen her house. It's a big awesome fairytale mess, and she doesn't really fit into it at all- being more into wilderness survival, she's not really what most people would assume her to be when they see her home life. Nothing wrong with that of course, just worth mentioning. We also learn in Friends and Family that she's very advanced for her age- she's extremely smart and probably a lot more understanding and level-headed about all the key business than I think a lot of other kids would be. I'd say she deviates from what a lot of people would expect of a child her age.

I'd love to hear if anyone has any other thoughts about her character !! I like her a lot and I'm excited to get to know more of her in the story :)

I wanna touch on the Keys last, specifically Silver. This part will be more speculation, so take it with a grain of salt.

In line with the theory about Silver possibly betraying Chase, this theme would apply perfectly. The way we've gotten to know Silver, she's extremely sweet and caring. She acts very selflessly for her family and friends and is eager to lend Chase a helping hand in saving his mom.

What we need to remember is that her first priority is to take care of her family. Helping Chase with his thing is definitely a means to reunite everyone (since he'll need all 12 keys to make his wish anyway), but it may not feel like she's doing enough. Helping her family and taking care of the Keys is her ultimate goal. If she's the heroine of her story, it makes perfect sense that she would take whatever actions necessary to do this.

The problem is, Cinderella Boy follows CHASE as the protagonist. We're rooting for Chase to evade Ex Libris, collect the keys, and save his mom. From this perspective, Silver betraying Chase, going behind his back, etc. would technically be an antagonistic action.

Am I saying that makes her a villainess? No, I really don't think so. But we've come to know Silver as a kind, supporting force for Chase. All I'm saying is, if she really were going behind Chase's back in some way (referring specifically to the letter she writes to Violet at the end of Friends and Family), it would absolutely subvert ours and Chase's expectations of her. It would line up with the theme of defying these expectations.

This theme is another of the many reasons why the Beach Boys arc is so important.

Circling back to Chase and Buddy, the core relationship at the center of the story- up until this point, Chase and Buddy have not cooperated with each other. Just a few episodes ago was the Toffee Break arc, where Buddy was an absolute menace and Chase straight got him thrown off a boat, lol.

But then Chase sees Buddy struggling to light a fire, and he does something unexpected. Even though he and Buddy have spent pretty much every moment together as rivals, he offers Buddy a tip on how to start the fire. He completely subverts what we've come to expect of their relationship. And then Buddy does something even more unexpected by returning the gesture and sharing his fish.

They're meant to be the hero and the villain- complete antagonists to one another. But in this moment they both choose to defy their expected roles and share a small, nice moment.

Later, Chase offers to help Buddy get out of the dangerous situation he's living in, and Buddy assumes he's lying. He doesn't expect Chase to be genuine about it. But like he says in Beach Boys (VI), Chase gets mad at him for doing the same thing, and he realizes he's been wrong about Chase maybe the whole time. Chase is not at all like Buddy expected him to be.

I think the point Chase makes in this episode about their roles as the hero and the villain is extremely important to the story as a whole. Buddy is meant to be the villain, so he's supposed to be a horrible person. Chase is meant to be the hero, so he's supposed to be patient and forgiving. But Chase says it himself- he doesn't care about that. He isn't the perfect protagonist we might expect him to be. He's an extremely kind and good person, yes, but he also has no trouble standing his ground and acting the way HE wants to, despite what everyone thinks of him. And Buddy, while harsh and standoffish, has plenty of moments that showcase how he's actually quite a caring person when he starts to let down his guard around someone.

Hell, even the entire concept of Cinderella Boy as a whole is kind of a subversion of expectations in itself!!!! A boy finds a magical artifact that lets him enter and play out any story he uses it on, but, ironically, he always has to be the princess?? it's amazing i love it

Cinderella Boy shows us consistently that nobody is stuck playing the role everyone expects them to. Nobody is bound to the perceptions that other people have of them, and everyone is free to defy these expectations and be the person they want to be. Chase says it best in Beach Boys (IV): "Nobody should have to accept being the villain if they're trying their best not to be."

To rap up my yap session, Cinderella Boy is a narrative about defying expectations and other people's perceptions of you and being a person of your choosing and everyone should go reread it one billion more times !!!!!!

shout-out to Cinderella Boy and its ongoing theme of defying the expectations everyone has for you and being more than your roots and upbringing, gotta be one of my favorite genders fr

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Baking Christmas Cookies With Sanji

Sanji Vinsmoke X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: None just some Christmas fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N:) Just an idea I had last year that I never got time to write. I have so much I want to write but everything has been so chaotic and busy it's hard to find time to sit down and write. I'm hoping after the Christmas season my job will start to slow down and I can get back into the swing of writing! This is the second time in a month that I've wrote for Sanji so hopefully this makes his fangirls happy! Merry Christmas everyone and I will try my best to get my other two Christmas fics wrote in time for Christmas! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The Sunny was quiet for a change as Christmas Eve evening turned into Christmas Day. The excitement kept you from being able to sleep deeply and a little after midnight you finally gave up. Tossing and turning wasn't restful and you rather be up and about anyway if you weren't going to be able to sleep. Climbing up onto the deck, you shivered a little at the chill and rubbed warmth into your arms. A clear sky overhead and the magic of Christmas floating on the chilly breeze. You breathed deeply watching the stars wink back playfully. You joined Luffy's crew about a year ago and since day one it had been an adventure worthy of a thousand books.

But it was this time of year that made you miss home the most. You had set out for a grand adventure to shoot for the dream you wanted to accomplish since childhood. Leaving home had been one of your toughest decisions. But when Luffy offered, you couldn't say no, no matter how much it tore you to pieces to say goodbye. The friends you made along the way and the battles you faced made you forget for a little while. Special times, like Christmas always brought your attention back to the hole that was left when you began your journey.

The kitchen door opened behind you and Sanji stepped outside with a steaming mug in one hand and a blanket draped over his arm. He wore an apron with a generous dusting of flour and a smear of butter on his cheek.

"I thought I heard the ladies' cabin door open. You okay," Sanji asked, handing you the mug and wrapping the blanket around your shoulders but kept his arm around you. His concerned expression melted your heart and you leaned in deeper into his embrace.

"Yeah. Just feeling a little homesick," you sipped at the hot beverage. Sighing as peppermint and chocolate coated your tongue and the heat radiating from your insides.

"I'm sure Christmas time makes it a little more lonely," Sanji squeezed you.

"I'm not lonely I have you and everyone else. But I would be lying if I said I didn't miss my family," you swallowed while trying to blink back tears.

"It's okay," Sanji whispered.

You both stood quietly watching a shooting star, letting the moment remain until you started to shiver a little harder.

"Why are you up Sanji," you asked clutching the blanket around your shoulders tighter and taking another sip of cocoa. "Surely you didn't wait up to hear some kind of sob story from yours truly?"

Sanji chuckled, "While I would do that any time for you. I'm actually working on some Christmas cookies. With Luffy around I have to make an obscene amount so to make sure there is plenty for everyone on Christmas morning, so I have to work through the night."

"That sounds like a lot of work," you were concerned about Sanji doing so much by himself. "But it also sounds really fun. Can I help?"

"Only if you want to and not feel like you have to help me because you feel sorry for me."

"No I want to," you argue! "I can't sleep anyway and the kitchen will be much warmer."

"Then your wish is my command."

Leading the way Sanji opened the kitchen door for you and swept you inside. He closed the door behind you both quietly before he unhooked another apron from the wall. You relished in the warmth as the oven was preheating and the smell of sugar and cinnamon tickled your nose. Sanji had to have been busy for several hours now as the counter was full of different types of doughs and several pans of Christmas shaped sugar cookies waiting to go in the oven. Icing filled up the mixing bowl waiting to be dyed and piped onto baked and cooled cookies. It felt like a winter wonderland bakery, it would make Santa jealous by default. In your awe Sanji gently slipped an apron over your head and tied the strings at the back with deft fingers. He kissed your cheek before leading you behind the counter.

"Wash those hands and you can start rolling out dough and cutting out shapes," Sanji winked.

"Aye chef," you saluted before pumping soap into your hands and washing them thoroughly in warm water. With freshly cleaned and dried hands, you got to work. Humming Christmas carols as you worked, there was something relaxing about the process. Roll. Cut. Place. Bake. Repeat. It felt like a dance and Sanji was just happy to watch. Your spirits rose with every carol you hummed and the kitchen filled with a warmth that the oven couldn't make. Sanji mixed food dye into the icings as you removed cookies from pans onto cooling racks. With two working it didn't take long for the counter to be overrun with cookies of all shapes and flavors.

"Now we just have to decorate the sugar cookies and we're done," Sanji wiped his hands on a towel. He set out piping bags he had been filling while you finished baking the last of the cookies. He rummaged around in the cabinet and placed several bottles of sprinkles next to the piping bags. He pulled up a couple of stools and you both sat close to one another, quickly getting to work on decorating. A peaceful silence settled between you two as you both worked. Sometimes your fingers brushed against Sanji's dyed ones as you both reached for something at the same time. You thought the little splotches of red and green staining his fingers were cute as they contrasted against his skin. A heat bloomed in your cheeks that the temperature of the kitchen had nothing to do with.

Once again you started filling the kitchen with Christmas carols and this time Sanji joined in. He didn't sing much, and if he did it was quietly and to himself. But now he sang out boldly, harmonizing with your voice as you both worked. When the last cookie was finally finished you stretched your back and rubbed at your sleepy eyes. You were covered in sticky icing and you were pretty sure there was sprinkles stuck in your hair, thanks to the minor sprinkle war you and Sanji waged, but your heart was full and the sadness you felt earlier had dissipated. That's when you caught Sanji staring. Once again your cheeks warmed at the steady gaze of the Sunny's gourmet cook.

Sanji leaned in, lips brushing against yours, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas Sanji," you whispered before his mouth claimed yours.

You tasted the sugar on his tongue and the strong hands gripping your arms as your present came early in the arms of the cook you adored for so long. Sanji pulled away, his cheeks a bright red and suddenly becoming bashful he stood up awkwardly.

"Sorry," he muttered. Though he lied he wasn't sorry at all.

"Don't be," you replied. "Thank you Sanji for everything."

He nodded grabbing platters to start stacking cookies. You eased over helping him place cookies in neat little piles on the decorative platters. You nudged him a little with your arm causing him to wobble and you knew something had shifted between you both. And you knew it was for something good as your time with Sanji this Christmas morning was a present all in itself.

[ateez-himari]

Hi bb!!! I've officially finished my exams and I have a holiday break so I'm feeling happy!!! I saw another anonie sending asks so now I have to up my game 😌(jk)

I had some questionssss

-Has hima ever been an mc on mubank before? and if so who was her partner/s

-I was rewatching teez's performance on MMA and I was wondering if the fans cheered really loudly when mingri's part came

-How do the stylist like to dress hima up? Taking in consideration that she's the only female idol in KQ plus in ateez they probably doll her up

-idk if this is weird but I feel like mingi and hima probably don't give a f anymore about their closeness after becoming publin and I'm talking about shamless glances and smirks

-would hima rather know what the future's holding for her or go back in time and change something in her past

-can I request so soft mingri moments I'm in my feels because of the weather🥹🥹

Ily so much bb, take care and eat well mwahh!! 💓💓

Hi sweet!! Congratulations, now you can finally get some more than deserved rest!! 😘 I actually still have one ask to answer from that anon but i got writer's block for it 😭(ANON IF YOU'RE SEEING THIS I'M WORKING ON IT DON'T WORRY!!)

• Our little social butterfly was an easy choice for Music Bank and they paired her with Sunwoo from THE BOYZ since both have a similar outgoing personality (it was also after Kingdom : Legendary War so it seemed like a natural pairing)

• Oh definitely! So many Atiny have been talking about wanting to see that part live so they were screaming their lungs out. Since it's a big award show they didn't kiss but Mingi took her chin in his hands and turned her face back to him, making her lose the stage demon facade for a second because she was so flustered

• Hima has had several stylists since debut - the first stylist respected the maknae's wishes and dressed her the exact same as the members (she left after becoming pregnant). The second would put more feminine spins on the outfits but they were still a lot more masculine than other girl groups (she was fired following Kingdom as she forced the maknae to show her scars). The current stylist is fully leaning into her charm, at times making her look more tomboy-ish but still keeping her delicate image, other times making the outfits are fully feminine. As Hima got older she's also begun to dress her in more chic clothing, enhancing her maturity without making her seem too old

Her favorite events to dress Hima for are award shows or concert encores because she can put her in dresses, cute shirts, legwarmers, put cute accessories in her hair, etc., (she loves dressing her up like a cute little doll). She gets kind of sad during Versace events because it's often the house's stylists or Donatella herself that dress her so she can't be the one to put her in all those intricate corsets or silky dresses :(

• They really can't find it in themselves to care anymore, there are so may clips from lives where she's sitting on his lap while wearing one of his boxers, she even brushed a hand across his "belt" (guys I swear it was the belt, guys....) during one of their concerts and stuck her tongue out at him while he was left blushing like an idiot. When there's some kind of innuendo these two are the first to look at each other (well actually sometimes it's Wooyoung and Hima and they can't help but to laugh their asses off)

• Hima isn't worried about the future, so she would rather turn back time; she would change the way her younger self viewed the accident. Of course everything was caused by grief, by her young mind being unable to understand everything going on around her, but one day she got angry at Hanzo after he had finally come out of his room to make her food as an apology. Hima had been dealing with so much at the time - solitude, Yoongi's mental health, the hardships of accepting new parents, her hearing disability that made every day more complicated, etc., - so everything blew up on him. The poor girl wasn't angry, she was in distress, she broke down crying and said things like "why did you abandon me ?" "you promised you would always be there when I needed you". If she could go back in time she'd make herself realize that Hanzo was suffering just as much as she was

• Of course you can! After Mingi sent the Fromm messages in which he expressed his intention to marry his girlfriend, she called him down onto the floor and began painting slivers of smoke along his bare arm - unfortunately he let his impulsive thought get the better of him and he smeared paint across her cheeks, which resulted in the two of them play fighting while trying to get as much paint on the other as possible

After Himari sent the Fromm messages revealing she was now studying Brain and Cognitive Science at KU, Mingi was having trouble taking a much needed nap so he pulled her in between his legs (on a bean bag) and she finished her study session tucked against his chest while his head rested on top of her own, sound asleep

At home she often forgets to put her hearing aid back in after a shower so when Mingi approaches her or is in the room, he moves with heavier steps so she can feel the vibrations or sends a series of one letter messages so that her smartwatch will vibrate several times (she learned to take that as a sign), so that she doesn't get startled because she didn't hear him

I always look forward to your asks!! ILYSM too Mina!! Make sure to rest plenty and have lots of fun now that the hardest part of the term is over! MWAHHH take good care of yourself 🥰🩷

[starry-nights-17]

Just wanted to say Happy Christmas to you all and leave this here. A short festive story, set in the canon world but sort of AU (in that Ian is living with Clayton).

*Mickey breaks into the wrong house....but maybe it was the right house after all 🤔

(Some derogatory language ahead, not mine, all Mickey!)

----

Christmas was just around the corner, meaning Terry was working them harder than normal. And by work, he meant stealing. Breaking and entering.

Mickey was the perfect burglar. Quick, quiet and small enough to squeeze through tight windows. Tonight's target, a fancy West Side house, which featured a large expensive looking tree in the front room. At the base of it, was a pile of exquisitely wrapped presents. Jackpot.

Mickey jimmied open a window at the back of the house, expertly so, given the practice he had. He crept into the connecting living room, eyes darting around and ears on high alert.

Confident that the house was vacant, considering the car that was usually parked out front was gone, he started tossing the packages into a large holdall he brought with him.

"Mickey, what the fuck"

His blue eyes blinked into the darkness, until he eventually made out a shape and spotted familiar red hair and freckles. The Gallagher kid had moved away a year back. His sister Mandy had whined about missing her BFF for weeks, droning on about how he discovered his mom's affair and that the man who raised him wasn't his real dad.

He made a run for it but the kid grabbed his arm, "I can't let you take it Mickey, not all of it anyway".

His voice was soft, those green eyes even softer, an understanding there. Gallagher picked out a few packages and held them out to him.

"Your dad's an asshole".

Mickey felt his eyebrow pull up and his face scrunch up in confusion, "What's it to you, carrot top?"

Ian, that was the kids name, chuckled and took a step back, his face lit up in amusement.

"Just know what he's like, what will happen if you return empty handed. Just take them, I can replace them tomorrow".

"This a trick, you gonna call the cops on me or something?"

"Course not, South Siders don't snitch".

Mickey gestured around and caught Ian's eye, "in case you haven't noticed freckles, we ain't in the South Side".

"Whatever, I'm still fucking South Side Mickey and more than that; I'm still a Gallagher".

Mickey nodded slowly, feeling the kid was being genuine. "Well now I really can't take this shit", he sighed and dropped his bag, "fucking tainted or whatever".

Ian laughed again, a sweet and bright sort of sound that had Mickey's lips curving up at the corners. He didn't know why he was still standing there, hovering, loitering. And at the scene of a crime, although technically he hadn't stolen anything.

"You want a beer or some hot chocolate or something, Clayton, um I mean my Dad and his wife are out, won't be back for hours".

Mickey snorted out a laugh, "you fucking serious, you like retarded or something? I just tried to rob you and now you're offering me hot chocolate?"

Ian grinned and shrugged casually, "not like I haven't stolen shit before. I get it. I know you haven't exactly got a choice Mickey. And," he paused and looked away, almost shyly, "miss the South Side I guess, don't see my family as much as I'd like. Figured you could catch me up on shit, on Mandy".

"That annoying bitch," he joked, "she's still a pain in my ass and a huge slut. There, all caught up freckles".

He turned to leave, feeling awkward now and feeling his cheeks flush with colour as the goofy kid smiled confidently back at him. It was as though he actually liked Mickey's abrupt manner or some shit.

"C'mon Mick, I'll even toss in some marshmallows. I remember you have a sweet tooth".

Mickey raised his eyebrow in a question, "the fuck you know that?"

Ian laughed and started towards what he presumed was the kitchen, "you think I didn't know about all those snickers you swiped from the store?"

Before he registered it, he was walking forward, following him, as if he was a magnet being drawn in that direction.

"You fucking stalking me or something, watching me, kinda creepy man".

His tone was easier and lighter than intended. Shit, he almost sounded like he was dangerously close to flirting.

Ian cocked his head and studied his face for a second before replying, with a wide devilish grin.

"Kinda my job Mick, to keep my eyes on you".

Mickey tried to hide an emerging smile with his hand and was forced to look away, from that intense green gaze. His skin felt electrified and he was sure his cheeks were glowing.

"Well it's not anymore, guess you don't need a job since you moved up in the world".

Ian set a large mug down in front of him, complete with mini pink and white marshmallows floating on top.

"Not so sure I did," Ian paused and seemed thoughtful, "kinda miss it, working, earning money, even miss the fucking ghetto".

Ian laughed dryly and Mickey shook his head at him in disbelief.

"I just mean it's different here, fucking boring and like dad's just trying to make up for lost time so he never yells or says no. Its weird".

"Oh poor you, shit, you don't know how lucky you have it man. Complaining like a spoilt princess about being rich and living in a place like this, where you don't get a black eye every other day".

"You think I don't hear myself Mick. Course I know I sound like a prick. I just don't feel like I belong here. I don't fit in. I don't know how to live this fucking normal life".

"Well, I'd swap places with you any day," he muttered, blowing on the hot chocolate before talking a long satisfying sip. Damn, it tasted good, like proper expensive shit, not that crappy dollar store stuff that masqueraded as "chocolate".

"I'm sorry, I know I suck. I go to a great school and have everything I want. Meanwhile the rest of the Gallaghers are still living in that shithole, with fucking Frank".

"Actually, heard he's shacked up with some rich bitch over on the North Side. Never stops bragging about it in the Alibi".

Ian laughed and shook his head, "course he is. Frank always manages to land on his feet".

"Looks like you take after him in that respect Red, even if he's not your real dad or whatever. Suck it up, you got out. You can make something of yourself. Mandy always said you were smart, so don't waste that education. Go cure cancer or whatever the fuck".

Ian settled down, sitting opposite him, as they both smiled quietly around their mugs. The situation was weird but only in how it wasn't weird, not really. Mickey felt at ease, like he was naturally able to talk with Ian, his usual shyness not present.

"Not really a science geek, believe it or not," Ian joked, an attractive smile on his face again, "more of an English Lit geek".

"You mean like books and shit. Rather you than me pal".

"Wait, you can actually read, Mickey?"

Mickey sat up straight, ready to knock the fuckers teeth down his throat. That was, until he caught sight of Ian's cocky smirk. He flipped him off and felt a smirk of his own creeping up.

"Fucking comedian over here," he muttered, "course I fucking can, dickhead. Might be a Milkovich but doesn't mean I'm a dumb fuck".

"Never thought you were," Ian replied with a gentler smile now and a fondness in his eyes. "Always figured you were smart. And, funny too".

Ians eyes darted away, his lips lowered to the mug again, his cheeks faintly pink.

"Funnier than you anyway," he teased in return, "not that it'd be hard".

"I meant it, I want to help. Don't want you getting into trouble or whatever...with Terry".

Ians eyes appeared sincere and possibly full of concern too. Mickey was surprised, wondering how this kid, who was almost a stranger to him, was genuinely worried about him returning home empty handed.

Then again, he probably witnessed Mickey's battered and bruised face on numerous occasions. Perhaps at the Kash n Grab or at the Milkovich House when he hung out there with Mandy. Likely his sister confessed some harsh home truths to her BFF too. Fuck.

"Can't take your shit Gallagher. It's fine, I'll hit some other place up on the way home".

Ian rose to his feet, taking out his wallet, offering a wad of cash to him.

"The fuck," he stood and swatted his hand away in offence, "don't want your money either; not a fucking charity case. And just cos your whore of a mother fucked some rich prick doesn't make you better than me".

Ians face grew red with anger and he stepped forward, invading his space, "don't fucking talk about her like that Mickey. I know I'm not better than you, never fucking said I was. Just don't want you getting punched in the face, or worse, by that evil psychotic prick. Fuck me, for giving a shit".

Ian shoved him and Mickey shoved him back. Both of their chests heaved up and down, both clearly emotional.

"Shit, I shouldn't have said that about your mom; not like mine was much better. Not cool. I know she had fucking problems or whatever, " he thumbed his nose, stumbling on his words, "just don't like handouts alright, I can take care of myself".

Iam nodded and his expression softened further, "I know you can take care of yourself Mick. Just nice sometimes to let other people help. Not like I can't spare some cash. Please, just let me help, let me feel like all of this," he gestured around, "means something. If it means saving that pretty face from getting another pounding, then its worth it".

Mickey's eyebrow pulled up and a sharp breath left his mouth, "did you just call me fucking....pretty....think its you thats looking for a pounding pal".

Ian smirked and approached him, head cocked to the side, his voice lowered to a whisper.

"Generally I do the pounding...but I'm always open to trying new things".

As if Ian's bold words weren't having enough of a mind-blowing affect on his body, the asshole winked (actually winked) at him.

Mickey opened and closed his mouth like a fish, rendered utterly speechless. Not only was the kid gay but he was openly flirting with Mickey, implying shit; not just about himself but about Mickey too. The giant sized balls on Ian. He was pretty impressed though, considering Mickey could easily be kicking his ass right now. Talk about a risky move.

"I uh, better go"

He mumbled and pointed vaguely in the direction of the door, "Terry...you know...fucking schedules or whatever".

Ian chuckled and stepped forward again. His hand reached out, trailing down his chest; smoothing out the creases on his shirt, and then he was stuffing something in his pocket. Before Mickey could argue, Ian was shutting him up in the most unexpected and unsettling way. By pressing his warm lips against his.

Naturally his reaction was to push him away, which he attempted to do but Ian was stronger than he looked and held his hands at the wrists. Green eyes locked on his, questioning, searching. And somehow Mickey relaxed enough to nod up and down.

There was that predatory smirk again before those lips were on his once more, firmer now, with puprose and determination. But it was a brief and tame kiss, which he was grateful for. Because if Ian tried to take it further, put his hands on him or slipped him the tongue, he wasn't quite sure what would happen. Could end up in a fuck or a fight, Mickey wasn't certain. All that he was certain of, was that his skin was on fire, his heart was thumping wildly and he was breathing harshly.

"Think of it as an advance payment...or a loan," Ian said next, waking him from his haze.

"Huh?"

"You can repay me"

"How the fuck do you expect me to pay your pampered ass back. Piss poor here, remember".

Ian laughed, once again causing an unfamiliar flutter in his chest and Mickey smiled automatically upon hearing the pleasant sound.

"There's other ways to pay me back Mick," Ian replied with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck off, you think cos you kissed me I'm some sort of prostitute...I'm not even gay man".

He almost choked on the lie and judging by Ian's amused expression he wasn't buying it either.

"If you say so. Besides, that's not what I had in mind....but now that you mention it...."

Mickey scratched his eyebrow and flipped him off, barely containing a smile.

"Fine. No sexual favours, got it, " Ian joked, his hands held up in the air, "I just meant you can pay me back by maybe hanging out with me once it a while, that's all".

"You just want me to hang out with you...and you'll basically pay me for it...the fuck is wrong with you man?".

Ian cackled and shook his head, "nothings wrong with me. I just fucking like you or whatever and I already told you; the moneys insurance, protecting that pretty face of yours".

Mickey's middle finger was raised once more while his face was busy heating up, "ok fuck, fine, i'll take the cash. But not promising you anything. You're fucking weird man, not sure how much more of you I can handle".

Ian's face lit up and he cocked his head in that boyish, mischievous way again, "pretty sure you can handle a lot Mick," he paused and hummed, "hopefully".

"The fuck," he whispered, the word coming out in a shuddery breath. "I'm outta here. Good luck with being rich now or whatever".

He waved at him, clumsily and awkwardly, before swiftly heading towards the door.

"Don't be a stranger Mickey".

He didn't even need to turn around to recognise the grin that cocky redhead was undoubtedly sporting. Ian Gallagher. Of all the houses. Of all the situations. This night had not turned out like he had expected. He paused at the door, his fingertip tracing over his bottom lip, somehow still feeling Ian's lips there. Fuck. Mickey already knew it. He needed to kiss him again.

"Whatever. See ya later, firecrotch".

❤🎁🎄🌈