#I'm so bad at explaining things im sorry

[mikufigureoftheday]

maybe it’s a little silly but what’s the differ eve between a ‘prize’ figure and a ‘scale’ figure?

Prize figures are mostly made to be won in arcades as prizes! They're typically a lot smaller, cheaper, and lower quality than scale figures.

This doesn't mean they're bad tho bc I've seen some good quality prize figures, they're just a little less detailed

Scale figures are usually bigger, more detailed, and cost a lot more. The cost is worth it sometimes bc I've seen some NICE scales lmao

Not Miku but an EX of a prize vs scale:

Hopefully, this helps you out (^_<)〜☆

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[quaranmine]

On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.

Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

trying to psych myself up to finally do oc refs by doing fandom-related refs instead: volume 1

wanted to update my yuma from whatever tf this au is so he was a bit more unique... takes inspo from a lot of different things while also trying to be its own sorta thing? which is fitting given the au ;)

bonus chibi now that i'm also figuring out how tf to do chibis lol:

[starrysharks]

i wonder if white people specifically white progressives realise that black people are only ever seen as their skin color first and foremost

[yingren]

“You look like shit, man.”

HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS / accepting.

“ that’s bold coming from you. ” might be bold, but it’s not entirely untrue. there are certainly days when ren isn’t at his best - days like this, when everything he’s been avoiding finally catches up to drag him down. the weight on his shoulders is heavy: the persistent lack of sleep, the looming threat of an inevitable headache, the ever-present shadow of the mara festering within him. though he’s been doing better recently, or so he likes to believe, there are still challenges to this slower, unfamiliar rhythm that he continues to wrestle with even now.

irony clings to him every time he’s near the archivist, carving that filthy hollow within him even deeper, a grave he’s unwittingly shaped over the countless years spent in pursuit. the hunter locks eyes with his prey, fleetingly wonders what flesh might taste like between wolfish canines, then shakes the thought loose as if banishing an unwelcome whisper, continuing as though nothing ever happened. over & over again, ren adjusts to this cursed truce he has sworn to uphold. if there is one unyielding truth about him, it is this: ren will honor his word, no matter the recipient or the reason, unflinching even when the stakes run impossibly high. dan heng is safe. not out of affection, but sheer obligation.

predator lies quiet, restrained in the aftermath of past conflicts, sparing its prey. for now.

any other man might wrestle with regret or lingering thoughts about his past choices, especially when faced with someone tied to a shared history as bitter and fractured as theirs. but not ren. the memories that surface are not a wistful montage of lost camaraderie or futile attempts to mend what was broken. instead, they are a relentless bloodbath, a carnage where every body is his own and every spear piercing him is one of his own making - wielded by the reincarnation of the very man to whom it was once dedicated. a grotesque, abhorrent cycle of disgrace and ruin.

ren harbors no grand delusions about his own standing. this isn't about knocking him down a peg, the hunter does not sit atop some imagined throne of superiority, though it might occasionally seem that way. when the mara takes hold, and it strikes hardest when dan heng is the spark, the dynamic shifts. a flicker of irritation crosses his crimson eyes as ren exhales slowly, the weight of the moment palpable. the scales have tipped dramatically since that fateful day, since his relentless pursuit ground to a halt, since dan heng seized the upper hand in every conceivable way. ren is a cursed man, perpetually adding to his own affliction.

“ what do you want ? you come to bother me as if it is a new hobby of yours. unbelievable. surely you are more creative than that. ”

[snekdood]

not sure who needs to hear this but i do not see myself as above anyone, like, at all. if something I posted makes you think I think I am you're probably misreading it or my intentions. I dont feel the need to compare myself and make myself feel like i'm above people, i'm just not really that kind of person. in fact, people make a point of constantly trying to make me feel below them on here so dont worry, you don't gotta help em'.

[aeide-thea]

truly just SUCH a typical tumblr experience but like.

Familiar Tumblr Name makes a post that's like: 'you know how fast fashion perpetuates itself by selling us clothing that gets dingy and grody really fast, so we have to replace it yearly?'

me: uh, no, actually—historically i've found that the few fast fashion pieces i acquired long outstayed their welcome, and were perfectly wearable long after i was heartily sick of them! but go on, i guess

FTN: 'let me tell you about this traditional domestic wisdom (implied: that's been lost because of, uh, capitalism) that will fix this problem (that you, too, definitely have) for you!'

me, googling: okay so this residue that FTN said was somehow a Fast Fashion thing is apparently generally caused by like. fabric softener and/or hard water. using discount detergents that skimp on active ingredients. using too much detergent so it doesn't wash out. letting your bedding go too long between washes. letting your washer go too long between cleans. etc. anyway. lots of specific factors here, many of which may in fact not apply to you in particular!

but like. why get specific when instead we could assert You Know This Problem, Right? This Lost Traditional Wisdom Will Definitely Help You Personally!!

[trans-leek-cookie]

Manifestations for college English class

I'm not getting triggered by the throwaway lines within the article we were reading that seem to imply the author is racist and an abuse apologist and a misogynist

I'm not spiraling because it downplayed a very serious topic that has been my focus for the last few days because I am once again trying to understand how my relationship with The Topic affects me now and how I can best recover

I am not going to submit an essay that is not at all on topic and is primarily just me bitching about how the writer of the article sucks not only (probably) as a person but also as a writer

I will not consider dropping this class because I'm worried about my mental health

I will not worry about what kind of person my teacher is because while the lines implying weird racist/abuse apologist/misogynist bullshit are subtle and not at all emphasized they're still really fucking weird

Actually no the misogyny and abuse apologism are subtle in that they're just random slightly off topic examples and one doesn't appear to be gross unless you actually y'know look up what the author was referring to but this guy just drops the words "favoured races" while criticizing the school system (for context he is implying the school system is implicitly eugenicist which is something worth discussing but also) and then says NOTHING ELSE about how race/racism affects students within schools despite 1. It being a really good point to attack schools with BECAUSE THEY HAVE A LOT OF PROBLEMS RELATED TO RACISM 2. The fact this man was 18 WHEN SEGREGATION WAS ENDED. So like it really does feel like he's using the idea of Racism in schools to Attack Schools without actually considering the fucking people said racism affects

Anyway I give up on this format and I'm going to submit my bitching essay and hopefully work up the courage to ask my teacher "hey, did you notice this guy seems to be a horrible person before assigning this reading to us?"

[drop--pop--candy]

thinking abt The Memory Issues again. sad!

[the-cooler-king]

Oh yeah..... midnight gospel be hitting.... sitting in my bed fuckin. Crying. Get a grip girl

[skeletalheartattack]

hi, i've been readin dragon ball for the first time these past few weeks and just finished the part where they're on planet namek. I Understand What You See In Him.

he's fucking something right??? ohhh straight up, you should see (and hear) him in the anime as well if you think you have the full picture. i've been absolutely obsessed forever

[ssentimentals]

im so glad that i found your blog, was looking for some wholesome texts with reader/seungcheol and yours are so nicely written, i enjoy them so much! thank you 🫶🏻 if i could leave a request, i'd love to read something where reader is a foreigner and some miscommunication happens but solved without much drama (with help of vernon or shua maybe). thank you for your blog once again!

awwww this is so cute!! thank you so much for your kind words anonie, i'm happy you're enjoying this blog <3 and of course you can leave a request, hopefully you'll like it!

seungcheol + foreigner!reader

no matter how hard he tried, seungcheol couldn't pinpoint how something so small escalated at rapid speed and turned into a full blown argument which left you both angry and offended. he can't even remember how it started, doesn't have any idea on what even caused you two to start arguing. the whole part of 'not seeing eye to eye' is generally an unfamiliar concept for your relationships, so seungcheol really has a hard time grasping the reality of you not talking to him. it hurts too bad, hurts much stronger than he expected; cheol knows that fights happen and that it's normal, but somehow he still thought that you two will be spared from this.

'she's not picking up?' vernon asks and seungcheol shakes his head. 'and she's not at home?'

'she's at the gym.' seungcheol answers. by this point he learned your schedule by heart. 'should be back home in thirty minutes or so.'

this is ridicilous. both the argument and his moping. cheol knew very well that coming from different cultural backgrounds will echo in the relationships dynamic one way or another: different past, upbringing, culture, language have a huge impact on the personalities and views. he was ready for some tension but you both settled into this relationship so smoothly that he honestly forgot about cultural differences. he should've known that they'll pop on in some way.

'go over it with me again.' seungcheol asks, sighing. 'from the scratch and make it logical, please. start with what i did wrong then move to why it was incorrect.'

vernon, god bless him, is not tired of explaining again. he was the first person seungcheol called to when all of this happened and his younger friend agreed to help readily. in a calm tone vernon helps seungcheol understand your angle, how his words that held no malice intent managed to come out wrong. 'it's not that big of a deal though,' vernon adds, seeing how seungcheol frowned even deeper. 'i mean, it's not ideal but like, it happens, it's okay. there's no way you could've known, so it's normal.'

'even so, it sucks.' seungcheol sighs, rubbing his eyes. he understands that you two just got a bit too emotional over everything, but he still feels a huge sense of guilt on his shoulders.

'i promise you it's not that big of a deal.' vernon reassures.

seungcheol nods. even if it's not that big of a deal having you not to talk him is the worst thing that could ever happen. he gets up, dusting his jeans off. vernon eyes him carefully and then smiles. 'you good?'

'yeah. gotta go and make it right.'

seungcheol waits for around ten minutes in front of your house when he notices your lonely figure in the distance. clad in your workout gear, he can see even from there that you're sulking, walking in a slow speed. without thinking twice, seungcheol runs to meet you, his legs carrying him faster than wind to your side. when you notice him you pause at first and he almost thinks that he is fucking up here too, but then you start running towards him and oh. oh.

'baby,' seungcheol breathes out, catching you when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his hips. with strong hands he stabilizes you, holding you securely close to his chest. 'baby, my baby.'

'cheollie,' you mutter, hugging him tight. 'i'm so-'

'no, shh,' seungcheol interrupts. 'it's me who's sorry, okay? i am sorry, i didn't know. i promise i didn't know-'

'i know!' you lean back and hit him lightly at the shoulder. 'let me finish! i know that you had no idea, cheol. i'm sorry for reacting the way i did.'

seungcheol breathes out in relief. he really got incredibly lucky with you, huh? 'i'd never say anything intentionally hurtful to you,' he promises sincerely, making you smile softly. 'never, baby. hurting you will hurt me more.'

'i know,' you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. 'i know, cheol.'

'i love you,' seungcheol whispers. 'so much, babygirl. so much.'

you giggle and instead of answering, kiss him sweetly on the lips.

a/n: hope it was fine!! let me know what you think :') - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[ellieslittleburrow]

Resuested by @outof-spite : was wondering if you could do a winchester bros & little sister! reader where theyve been arguing constantly lately, and reader is usually combative and always argues back but, this time shes just over the arguing so she just gives up trying to argue with them and kinda goes mute?

Warnings : family fights, yelling

Pairings : Sam/Dean Winchester x sister!reader

A/N : Sorry for the late postt ❤️❤️

-----

Things happen, right? Misunderstandings, judgement, reproaches and blame, all of them, the worst thing that could happen to a family, more importantly-right now-to yours.

Back from a hunt gone bad, you heavily lay in the backseat of the impala, your feet hung over the left window while your head rests over the opposite side of the car.

"Hey-get your feet off my damn leather." A complaint you've heard one too many times, and one you usually fight but- this time, as a sigh leaves your lips, you uncross your legs and bring them down, consequently lifting your upper body to sit up. An avertion from your side that's different from your usual habits, causing the car to fall into heavily loud silence.

And although it is loud with almost audible thoughts and anger, you still enjoy that while it lasts.

And it fucking doesn't last, in fact, just as soon as you entered the motel, another sentence commenced by Sam sent Dean into a fury, and just as things heated up, you found yourself in the middle of it all-again-

"Hey!!-" The shout is directed at you, this you know and choose to disguard. You would answer but- your body is fatigued and so is our mind, answering seems to lead to no vail. You answer, he fights you, you all go to sleep and wake up forcebly normalizing things, as if your throats aren't sore and your brains aren't fried.

"Hey-i'm talking to you-"

The words sound more bitter this time around, and you find yourself reluctantly lifting your gaze up . You look at Dean, slow and undetermined, exhausted.

"I asked you why you did that-You could've waited for us. I know you said there was no time le-" Dean pauses. "And fucking answer me when i talk to you-"

You shrug, causing a choking gasp out of Dean. His eyes widen and he leans forward. "Are you-Is she provok-are you-"

You throw your jacket over the bed, disdain discerned in your every move and you flop on the bed, unaware of the sudden tension that-again- suddenly settles in.

But the thing is--You don't care anymore. You haven't enough energy to get you to fight them once more, neither to explain or defend yourself. Too damn fucking tired is what you are at the moment-Too damn tired of it all.

"Kid?"

You rest your hand over your forehead, closing your eyes in an effort to soothe your aching muscles, and maybe suck in a little more patience.

"Kid."

Your stomach tightens and soon, you'll recess into a bawling mess, so you get off the bed and pick up your jacket.

Please don't lead to another fight, please..You just want it all to be ov-

"What's wrong?"

You shrug once more, shaking your head to motion that all is fine before heading for the door. But Sam comes your way, blocking the door and you blow a long sigh.

"Come here"

Sam grips both of your arms and swiftly-you find yourself glued to his chest. But all happens all too fast-why would he suddenly get all feely- and before you even realize it, you find yourself pushing against him.

"'im sorry-i'm sorry."

A lump builds up in your throat and as flashes of the past few weeks occupy every single space in your brain, your breathing increases-just as it gets harder to breathe. Just the thought of it all_

Your eyes are slowly flooded with warmth, announcing the tears gathering at your eyes. You need to leave. You need to go.

You choke on a sob.

You can't do this anym- "I know, honey. I've been there. I know." And with that, another sob loudly escapes your throat and a whimper follows.

"i've been there with Dad, i didn't realize we were doing that to you-i'm sorry. I see you. I really am sorry."

You shake your head as your cries fill the room, getting increasingly louder the harder Sam rubs your back. But that's not what you need. Not for them to see you-but for them to fucking stop.

"We'll stop. We'll talk. I promise."

You pull away from him, skeptical of a promise you doubt he can hold. And just as you're about to process that, Dean speaks.

"I'm sorry too." His honest tone makes you sigh. This isn't.what.i.want.

"Sam and i are sort've used to it- we lost sight of the fact that it wasn't affecting just us, but you as well. I really am sorry." Sam looks into your eyes and you slightly lean back, averting your gaze.

"It must've been really stresstful for you the past few weeks." Taken aback by his words, you pull your chin away from his hand and turn around, wiping at your tears before resting your hand against your forehead.

"we're sorry, kid."

You shrug, still mistrusftul. Mistrustful but hopeful. Because Sam and Dean are different, fights and bad things might accure but no matter how disconnected from each other they might be, they always come back to each other. And you are no different. You know them well enough.

Your silence is apprehended as anger. "Okay..We understand, we'll leave."

But it's not anger and it's most certainly not hatred. So you envelop Sam again and bury your face in his chest.

Maybe that'll be enough for him to understand?

His surprise manifests through his still figure. "Thank you, honey." That surprise quickly dissipates and he hugs you back. "It..."

"it's going to be okay, honey. We'll make it okay."

------

I hope it isn't too cringe or too cliché because like-who would say sorry in under a minute. But yeah anyway much love sorry byyiii 🍁🍁🍁❤️❤️❤️

[awearywritersworld]

she mumbled that i was peculiar

sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist

it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.

when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.

before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.

so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus

it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.

how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?

the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.

even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:

"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.

although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?

are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?

he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.

all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?

yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...

he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.

it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.

"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.

kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.

no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.

"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."

"i can see that."

"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."

yeah, definitely too annoying.

"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.

"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."

he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."

"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"

"you'd be the first."

"i don't mind making history."

you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.

"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"

you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.

the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.

so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.

when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.

making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"

he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"

"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.

gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."

"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.

"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."

most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.

"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."

"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."

"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.

just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."

he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."

"well, put it on anyway," you insist.

he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.

stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.

"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."

you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."

"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.

despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.

you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.

offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.

"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"

his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."

"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."

"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."

"you're so mean to me."

"hardly."

"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"

"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."

you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.

"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.

he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"

"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"

"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."

"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"

you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?

wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?

just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.

he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.

it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.

his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.

you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.

the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.

one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.

two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.

there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.

then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.

you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.

there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.

needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."

you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.

"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.

he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.

sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.

"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.

the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."

"who?"

"they'll kill me if i tell you—"

sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"

his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.

"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"

"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.

neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.

the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.

his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.

your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.

inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.

"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"

he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"

"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."

you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.

though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.

sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"

it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.

"those men would have hurt you."

"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.

"yes— it does."

with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.

looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."

you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.

he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."

you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."

god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.

his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.

he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.

how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.

had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—

she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.

it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.

you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.

you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.

and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.

to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.

you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."

he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?

you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.

"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.

"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.

"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"

"stop," you interrupt him.

there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.

instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.

"i was so scared, 'kuna."

and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."

"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"

"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.

sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.

when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."

he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.

it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.

he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.

do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?

when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."

he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.

he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.

but now? all it does is terrify him.

"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."

it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.

"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."

your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.

it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"

the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.

"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.

and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.

at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."

the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"

he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."

he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.

"i guess you're right."

and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.

when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.

he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.

he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.

and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[baibeebrii]

obsession •

stepson!anakin x stepmom!reader

mdni 18+ ~~~~

word count - 3k+

warnings- reader met anakin when he was a minor, age gap, stepson/stepmother, perv!anakin, unprotected piv, praise, sub!anakin/dom!reader, breeding kink, overstimulation, forcing, multiple orgasms (anakin), oral (f recieving), cheating

info - marrying a skywalker definitely wasn’t on your things to do, but when working led you to meet kahn skywalker. your life changed.

until his perv of a son lets you know just how much you mean to him.

not proofread.

dating kahn was fun, you guys have been casually seeing each other for about two months now. nothing serious. just a fling you thought. until kahn mentioned how he wanted you to meet his son, you were taken aback.

"kahn are you serious?" you question.

he smiles, "yes, i want him to know the woman i'm going to marry."

you felt odd, you guys have only been together for maybe two months, this wasn't appropriate.

"kahn, maybe it's too soon" you trail off, peeling at the hangnail on your pointer finger.

kahn's smile falters, "oh" he looks down at his lap, "i'm sorry i didn't think"

you feel bad, he obviously cares about you, and for him to want you to meet his son. he must think of you as special.

you start to smile, "okay, i'll meet him. when do you want to do it?"

kahn lifts his head up, smile plastering his face, "right now?" he says.

again, shock hits your face, "my son should be home from his mothers house any minute now"

you couldn't believe it, he was going to make you meet this kid no matter your answer.

you were mad, rightfully so, but before you could say anything this door swings open.

"dad i'm home"

"anakin, my boy, how are you?" kahn jumps up to greet his son with a hug, releasing the hug kahn turns to a very red faced you sitting on the couch. in a not so "meet the son" outfit.

you had on some short shorts and a tight baby tee.

you were mortified.

"anakin this is the woman i've been telling you about, y/n this is anakin" kahn says not seemingly to notice the discomfort on your face.

you stand to shake the boys hand, not ignoring the fact his eyes rake over your entire body, taking in every curve and arch.

if you weren't embarrassed before, you sure were now.

-

it's been about three months since meeting anakin, and he's been nothing but friendly. you're happy the meeting went so well. you've been spending more time with him. coming over after work when he texts he's having trouble with his calculus homework.

being a 17 year old in high school is hard, he'll say the entire time you try and explain an equation to him.

you would laugh and tell him to focus and get it over with. he'd laugh and turn his attention back to his homework, not forgetting to glance over his arm to watch as your chest moves when you slouch back into the dining room chair.

"ani, im home" kahn's voice is heard from the entry way, "oh honey, i didn't know you'd be here" he says kissing the top of your head.

"little ani here needed help with some homework"

you said, turning to look back at anakin and you swear you saw the grip on his pencil tighten after hearing you use his nickname.

"well, i'll get started on dinner for three. rather then two" kahn says walking back to the kitchen. setting his keys on the island.

anakin finishes his last problem before putting everything away, you get up and start walking to the kitchen to be with your boyfriend before feeling a slight touch in your wrist, turning you face anakin.

his eyes are on the floor, fidgeting with his fingers, "can you come upstairs? i want to show you something" he says with a whisper.

you nod and follow him to his bedroom, the farthest room from the stairs.

stepping inside you take notice to all the knick knacks placed around the room, all the scattered clothes and papers.

you step in first, heading to sit on the end of his bed.

"what's up ani?" you question as he doesn't turn from the door.

you're confused, and question the boy again.

he finally turns to you, eyes a darker shade of blue, something you haven't seen before.

"ani?" you say quietly, but loud enough he hears.

a small groan escapes his throat, "say it again"

"what? anakin what is going on?" you're confused, this isn't typical anakin behavior.

he grabs your hands, rubbing his thumbs across your own.

"please say it again mommy" anakin says just above a whisper, hands gripping just a bit tighter on yours.

you're shocked, in utter disbelief. never once has anakin called you mom, never have you asked him either. this shouldn't be happening.

"ani? what are you talking about?" a soft moan leaves his mouth when you say his nickname again.

"you do crazy things to me" he says, eyes still not meeting yours.

you don't say anything, too confused and shocked to even think of words at this moment, anakin takes notice

"i'm sorry" he says, tears brimming his eyes, looking to the floor

"hey anakin, it's okay, come here." you say bringing him into a hug.

you feel unsettled by what just happened, but to an extent you understand. he's a horny teenager.

"i won't tell your dad, okay?" you say grabbing his chin to make him look at you. his eyes are filled with tears as his face is completely red. tears threatening to fall, "thank you" he says pulling you into another hug, inhaling deeply to never forget your scent.

-

the wedding was beautiful, you never expected to get married to someone so quickly, but kahn skywalker just has that effect. he proposed to you during your seventh month together. getting married very soon after that.

honeymoon was amazing. you and kahn travelled all through greece for a month, before returning to your shared home, with your now stepson.

as soon as you guys stepped in the door, anakin was there to greet you guys, not hiding the fact he went to hug you first. despite his fathers arms out, wrapping your arms around anakins shoulders, you can feel him squeeze slightly as he inhaled deeply.

"missed you so much" he whispers into the crook of your neck, before pulling away and hugging his dad.

you didn't want to admit it, but the butterflies in your stomach was something you enjoyed.

anakins birthday came and went and you had an 18 year old in the house.

he was still the same anakin, sweet and shy, tending to follow you around the house like a lost puppy.

"ani, im gonna shower, i'll make dinner when i'm done" you say to the boy on the couch in front of the tv. he gives a sound so you know he heard you and you went upstairs.

walking to the bathroom, with a change of clothes, and a towel. turning the shower on and stepping in.

you needed this shower after the day you had, work was hell, your manager was berating you all day. you couldn't seem to do anything right.

thirty minutes into the shower you decided it was enough and got out. getting dressed and doing all your nightly routines. you got to grab you dirty laundry, something missing from the pile.

you look around everywhere for the pink pair of panties you were just wearing, were you wearing them?" you question as they are seemingly gone.

not wanting to keep anakin waiting any longer for dinner you throw your clothes in the hamper and head downstairs. anakin gone from his spot on the couch.

cooking dinner was easy, you decided on something quick tonight. some chicken alfredo noodles.

dinner was done, warming on the stove to keep warm until kahn got home from work.

you haven't heard anything from anakin in the time it took you to cook. you go to look for him.

stepping to his door, reaching for the handle. you stop.

moans and whimpers fall quickly, you're about to walk away, not wanting to disrupt, when you heard you name fall from the boys lips.

you stop, frozen.

"nghh y/n mommy please" can be heard, your name being said like it's a prayer.

your thighs press together, this is wrong you think to yourself, yet you don't move. placing an ear to the door to hear better.

more moans and whimpers are fallen from the red and swollen lips of anakin. your name being repeated over and over again as he rubs his leaking cock with your used panties. 

you listen for a few more minutes before the sound of his hand grow louder and more erratic, whimpers falling from his lips as it gets harder for him to be quiet while reaching his climax.

few seconds later and your name is being said as all motion stops.

he came to the thought of you while using your dirty underwear.

you quickly rush from the door, down the stairs to the kitchen to finish plating diner as kahn should be getting in any minute. 

do you tell your husband what you heard?

you couldn't, you didn't want to get anakin in trouble.

dinner was good, beside the fact all you could feel was anakins eyes on you, and the feeling in your stomach.

this is so wrong.

you needed to stop this.

-

you decided the week kahn would be on a business trip was the best to confront anakin, better to have his dad away so he doesn't find out.

it's a little past 9pm when you walk to anakins door, knocking slightly.

"ani? can i come in?"

your met with some shuffling before the door is open, and a tired looking face greets you with a small smile.

"oh did i wake you?"

"no, was just laying in bed. what do you need?"

"can i come in and talk?"

he moves from the doorway to allow you in, you walk towards his bed. him following after shutting his door.

the only light in the room is his bedside lamp, illuminating a nice orange hue.

"ani, i need to talk to you about something"

he nods

"a week ago, i came up here to grab you for dinner but i stopped when i heard noises coming from your room." you started.

anakins face instantly grew red, and his face dropped to the floor.

"i went to walk away, but then i heard my name, ani you can't be having these thoughts about me"

you stopped talking, giving anakin a second, you just embarrassed him.

he doesn't speak, so you continue "i'm your dads wife. this isn't appropriate"

he looks up at you, teary eyed, " 'm sorry " he slurs out, obviously fighting back crying.

your heart broke, you didn't want him to feel bad for what he did, "hey, anakin. it's okay, im not mad at you" you say grabbing his cheek, wiping his tears.

he leans into your touch, with a slight whimper.

"i'm sorry, please don't leave me" he says, grabbing your wrists.

"i'm not gonna leave you ani, please calm down"

he's still crying, "i just love you so much, i need you" he's now practically in your lap, your rubbing your fingers through his hair.

"ani, i'm your step mother"

he cries more, grabbing at anything he could.

"mommy" he sobs out, bringing his head up to look at you, he's broken. face red and puffy with tears.

your heart breaks, you little ani feeling this bad, "ani it's okay, stop shhh" you try and soothe him.

you lay him back on the bed, letting him rest on you as you cuddle him.

thirty minutes pass, he's calmed. hiccuping in your lap now.

"wanna talk?" you say running your fingers through his hair. he nods and sits up to face you.

"i'm so sorry y/n" he says, grabbing your hands, "please don't hate me"

"i could never hate you, it's okay"

he stares at you, eyes wide, so innocent.

"please let me be a good boy for you"

you tilt your head, "ani no, this isn't appropriate"

"i hear the way you moan with my dad, how fake it sounds, let me show you how much you mean to me" he says, his once blue eyes, dark and lidded.

he listens when you and his dad have sex?

such a naughty boy.

his hands go up your arms to your shoulders, "please let me be good for you mommy"

you can't deny the heat forming, this shouldn't turn you on.

but to have anakin, sitting in front of you. BEGGING for you, crying for you, it's something you'd never imagine.

"ani.."

he stops you, "please, i've loved you since i met you, look" he jumps up to grab his camera off his desk.

he flips through all the pictures, you doing normal things, you cooking, you showering, and worst of all. you sprawled out in your bed, dildo in hand pleasuring yourself.

fuck

this is insane, you thought. this is wrong. he's been watching you??

he wasn't done, he pulled a box out from under his bed.

all your missing underwear, you knew the washer wasn't eating that many.

"see, i want you. i crave you"

he says. on his knees, infront of the bed.

you can't deny the throbbing in between your legs, this was disgusting.

but you loved every second of it.

you knew anakin was attracted to you but you didn't think he was a pervert.

"such a dirty boy anakin, what do you do with all this?"

he moaned, "i touch myself" he says shyly.

how can he be so shy after showing this to you.

you loved it.

"show me"

his head jerks up, confusion on his face. but your serious. sitting back to make room for him on the bed.

"be a good boy anakin, show mommy" he waste no time in undoing the strings to his pants, pulling them down and climbing on the bed.

god he was big, much bigger then your husband.

"oh ani, you're so pretty baby"

you moans, before grabbing his throbbing cock, red angry tip leaking precum. just for you.

his pace is slow, agonizing, he's wanting this to last for ever.

"baby you can do better then that, i want you to cum for me. think you can do it?"  you say running your fingers through his hair before reaching the base and jerking.

the moan that fell from his lips, was nothing but sinful. the pace on his cock increasing, rubbing himself raw.

you say nothing but praises, letting the boy know how well he's doing, and how you're so proud.

you can tell he's getting close when your movements become sloppy and erratic. whimpers escaping his mouth, before his release shakes his entire body.

you help him through it, kissing his head and rubbing your hands on him to help ground him.

he's on cloud 9, he feels so good and to have your hands on him. he's soft cock, slowly getting bigger again, the thought of your sweet pussy engulfs his mind.

the sweet smell he's gotten from your panties, he wants the real thing.

"m-mommy need your pussy, please" the redness on his cheeks, the mess he's made on his stomach. is all too much for you to keep your composure.

"since you've been such a good boy, you can eat mommy out"

you barely finished your sentence before your pants and underwear are being thrown off and his head his between your legs, lapping up all your sweet juices, inhaling your scent.

he takes you clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, inflicting a harsh groan from your throat.

he's eager and eating like this is his last meal, he starved. wanting nothing more then your pussy in his face.

"oh ani, you're so good to me" you moan out cause him to rut against his mattress. he’s pussy drunk, letting his tongue touch every inch of your soaking pussy, you’ve never felt this good.

you didn’t think it get better, until you feel a warm finger entering you. your back arches, god he is making you crazy.

“anakin, oh my god” the right coil in your stomach burning. anakin continues his actions, curling his finger as his lips are attached to your clit.

“ani, im gonna cum, keep going, don’t st-“ you were cut off by your own orgasm, ripping through your entire body. you’ve never came this hard.

anakin moans, face soaked with all your juices, lapping up what he could.

“mommy did i do good?” he asks with innocence in his eyes, you brush his blonde curls out of his face, “so good baby”

he climbs up to lay with you, cock still painfully erect, taking notice, you reach down and touch him so gently. he moans and thrusts into your hand.

“should mommy help you baby?” his head nods frantically, hoping you’d give him what he wants.

“lay down on your back” you say pushing his chest till he’s laid flat. climbing up to hover above him. his cock so close to you, he could feel the heat radiating from you.

moaning as you grab him, guiding the tip through your folds, pushing it slowly into you as you sink all the way to the base.

he stretched you so well, reaching every part of your body. loving how full you felt.

he looked beautiful under you, absolutely stunning. hair all disheveled, lips red and puffy, tears staining his face, you wanted to ruin him.

lifting yourself so slowly, feeling every inch of his beautiful cock, humming as you sing back down, with more force.

picking up pace, bouncing so heavenly on his cock, anakins brain cannot think straight. his mouth agape as the only thing falling from it is moans, sweet boy can’t even think straight.

fucking yourself, using anakin as if he was just some fuck toy, he loved it. his hands finding your waist gripping it so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises. loving the thought of him leaving marks on you drove you to bounce harder wanting to reach your climax.

anakin became frantic, “mommy gonna cum, inside please, fill you up” he’s ranting.

“hold it anakin, not yet” not wanting to lose your own orgasm. fucking your self harder, ignoring his pleas.

anakin cums, cums hard inside you. filling you up, making such a mess. his eyes open wide, “mommy, im so-“

“disobeying mommy, what a bad boy” you say still with his cock buried deep inside you, rocking back and fourth.

“too much mommy” anakin says, lightly pushing you. you hold yourself firm on him, “baby mommy’s not done, mommy wants to cum around your pretty cock. you’ll do that for me right?”

his head shakes, wanting nothing more then to please his beautiful mommy. “yes yes let me make you feel good” you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

you slowly pull off, and lay down at the head of the bed, “come here baby, make me feel good” motioning with your hands.

he climbs on top of you, eager to please, you spread your legs so he fits so perfectly. you nod your head, giving him permission to re-enter you.

he does so with a fast thrust, beginning his relentless pace, wanting nothing more then to make you cum around him. feel as your pussy flutters, squeezing his cock.

“mommy” he rambles, “so good so good”

you’re in bliss, he’s fucking you so good. your husband long forgotten. he’s never made you feel this good, you never knew this much pleasure was possible.

“oh baby, you make mommy feel so good” he moans into the crook of your neck, loving hearing how good he’s doing. making you feel so good. he lives for it.

your close, the way his cock is abusing that spot inside you, has your toes curling. you tell him how close you are, he’s holding out for you, you can tell how he so badly wants, no needs to cum.

“such a dirty boy, fucking his mommy like a bitch in heat” you couldn’t help but toy with him. edging him on.

few more thrusts and he’s coming again, filling you up for a second time.

“ ‘m sorry mommy” anakin says, slowly thrusting into you, not wanting to upset you.

“baby, it’s okay, we can stop-“

“no, need your cum”

he thrusts back into you, cock rock hard.

how does this sweet boy have this much in him, you didn’t question it when he started pounding that one spot, with his hand moving to you clit rubbing it in slow circles.

“ani” you moan out. “please like that”

he just moans as he continues his rapid pace, bringing you to your climax, squeezing down on his cock as your juices spill making a mess of his bed.

his fourth orgasm isn’t long after, chanting about filling you with his cum.

he slumps down on your chest, soft cock still inside.

“such a good boy for mommy, you did so good baby” you say while rubbing circles on his back.

he sits up, and pulls his cock out, watching all his cum ooze out of you. mesmerized in how you squeeze down on nothing.

he takes his finger and pushes his cum back inside of you, leaning his head on your shoulder, “want you pregnant with my baby” he whispers into your ear

who knew he could be so dirty.

he lays next to you, cuddling into your side, arm wrapped around your waist.

“i love you mommy”

you smile, dragging your fingers through his hair, “i love you too baby”

“i made you feel better then my dad?”

“yes, god yes”

you could feel the smirk on your skin, “is this a one time thing?” he asks so shyly. as if he wasn’t just pounding your pussy with such disrespect.

“no baby, you’re mine forever. understand? you’re all mine.”

he smiles, pleased with your response.

“what about dad”

you completely forgot about your husband, what the fuck were you gonna do?? your just fucked your stepson.

his cum still leaking out of you, you realize how fucked you were gonna be.

“guess this has to be our secret, okay?”

anakin nodded, half asleep. absolutely exhausted from his multiple orgasms.

you sighed, pulling the blanket over the two of you, drifting to sleep yourself.

wishing that hopefully, your husband never finds out so you can keep fucking his sweet innocent son.

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a/n :

WOAH

first post, please tell me what you think.

i just love the thought of anakin being so whipped for you, he’s so submissive.