#OH MY GOD I LOVE WRITING THIS SO FUCKING MUCH WHAT

[slutzforbueckers]

Can u pls write some headcanons of Paige being like obsessed with the reader, like just some cute things she would do and basically the reader walking her like a dog

Pls and tyyy

whipped

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡— warnings: fluff

♡— synopsis: head canons for paige being an obsessed girlfriend.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

shes 1000000% gonna watch you get ready, from the moment you brush your teeth to when you put on your shoes.

paige is definitely clingy and has separation anxiety. she had you on the next flight out to dallas as soon as she got there.

“i’m getting you a ticket.”

“a ticket? paige what—“ you looked at the phone in confusion and laughed because she hadn’t even been in dallas for five minutes, paige was dead serious though. “you just got there.”

“i don’t care. i think im gonna break out in hives if you’re here by the time i wake up tomorrow.”

she pays soooo much attention to you, she remembers little things that never crossed your mind again after it happened.

you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through a new clothing website you’d found, when paige came up behind the couch.

“babeee,” she called out in a sing-song way. you tired your head back to look at her. paige held a small box out for you to grab and rounded the couch to sit in front of you. “i got you something.”

you looked at her confused and slowly opened the small red velvet box. when you opened it a beautiful silver necklace stared back at you, small diamond lining the heart shaped pendant.

“oh my god—paige this is beautiful! where’d you get it?” you gasped, your heart darting between her and the necklace.

“at that little jewelry store downtown, remember you pointed it out a while ago.” you gently closed the box and launched yourself into her lap. paige laughed as your kissed all over her face.

paige definitely carries a picture of you in her gym bag and she definitely has a picture of your posted in her locker.

she loves showing you off. trust that close friends story on instagram is full of pictures of you during any times of the day.

“paige!” you lightly slapped her leg when you saw the picture she posted on her story—you asleep, hair messed up and all over the place, mouth too open to be considered closed but not open enough to be considered wide open.

“what—“ she looked at you confused, you turned your phone screen towards her and she laughed. “oh, i took that last night. you looked so cute!”

“i was asleep!” you screeched, tossing your phone to the side and jumping on top of her.

“you’re a cute sleeper!”

can’t stop touching you. no matter where you go or what you’re doing—paige is gonna find a way to be touching you at all times.

ohhhh the shopping trips. you get whatever you want and you don’t have to carry any bags. if you even dare to try to hold one she’ll flip, even if her arms were turning red from how many she already had.

“the fuck are you doing?” paige scoffed when her eyes spotted the little brown bag in your left hand. you looked up at her and cursed under your breath.

“paige, you already have so many! and you’re paying so the least i can do is carry them.”

“uh uh. that’s not how this works.” paige shook her head in disbelief and pulled the bag from your arms. you watched as she walked away, shaking your head at how red her arms were.

she laces up your heels for you every single time. down on one knee your foot resting on her leg, her hands running up and down your calf while she stared up at you like you hung the moon.

she’s obsessed with you and she’s not afraid to admit it.

“you’re obsessed with me, you know.” you huffed as you fell back against the pillows. paige rested her head on your stomach and looked up at you with glossy eyes.

“i know. how could i not be?” her smile was crooked and dopey, drunk on you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

* re-corporates*

Hello again, sorry

Could I get some headcanons for a male [or gender nutral] reader who's a diva. Think the Emma frost kind. Bad bitch who's so cut throat when defending the team from the public view or like if Valentina is giving them shit.

"The only publicity cover up we need is that ratty wig you have on Valentina.😮‍💨>:["

However would literally lay down his life for anyone on the team and actively goes out of his way to make them more comfortable. Like demands them be treated well.

I love your work goodbye 👋

the second you all were called the new avengers, you wanted to wrangle Valentina's neck for the shit storm she was subjecting you all to.

You knew people wouldn't take too kindly to your group of assasins and super soldiers with blood on their hands being called a name that was once synonomous with indivisuals who might as well have been gods and worshiped as such.

you knew that things from here on out would be a constant uphill battle, where you'd be faced with countless obsticles for you and the team to overcome on your own.

after Yelena told Valentina that they 'own her now' you put your hand on the assassins shoulder, gave her a smile, before moving to lean towards Valentina where your smile became a malicious sneer. 'hopefully with all that money you'll get for these gullible lot, you'll be able to actually get your hair done professionally, and not have to rely on the bathroom mirror and the pair of siscors that i know you use to sort out those god awful dead ends of yours.'

you weren't done as you then later added. 'also if you try and use any one of my team as scapegoats in the media the second you can't control the narrative, i will come for your throat. do i make myself clear.' you threatned.

'crystal, you have my word.' Valentina replied with a tight lipped smile. you weren't convinced and she could tell, you would do anything in your power to keep your team safe, people you didn't give two shit about twenty mintues ago are now the people you would raise hell for in order to keep them out of the public eye should you see it was getting to them.

this mainly being john walker, whom seemingly only ever cared about how the general public and press saw him as; a failure replacement of steve rogers who went rouge and killed a man in broad daylight.

'i'll believe it when i see it De Fontaine. so actually try and make it believable.' you mockingly spat before taking your spot between Yelena and Alexei, flashing the public a fake smile that would've fooled anyone and everyone becuase it was just enough to keep people from looking at your teammates and keep the public focus on you and you alone.

you did not fuck about when it came to your teammates, you wanted them to be okay and to have a much more comfortable living within the tower, all the while trying not to wince and scowl at the...decorative choices Valentina made to the place and actively made the choice to throw them out. Ava and Yelena had once caught you hauling an ugly statue over your shoulder and asked what you were doing.

'i'm not allowing myself nor any or you to live with such an eyesore, the woman doesn't know fashion from trashion if it hit her in the face.' you told them before adding, 'oh also remind me to buy Bob a book shelf for his book nook along with another beanbag or at least a more comfotable loveseat to support his back, weighted throw blankets, weighted plushies and snug hoodie blankets. okay thanks!'

you do similar things for Yelena, Alexei, John and Ava by making their floors within the tower more tolerable, places where they can find respit in. For Yelena you got her food for Fanny and Houdini the guinea pig, even buying them better dog beds and cages for houdini to move and get exercise within, along with some new jewlery and fake plants to decorate the blandness of her window sill.

For Ava you got her some books, diaries for her to write her innermost thoughts in, movies that she missed out on and that you'd think she would like, art supplies so that she could get her feelings out on the canvas and most of them came out really beautiful and amazing that you began to make a room on her floor decked out as an art room for her to fully use at her complete disposal.

for Alexei you got him memorobilia of his golden days as Red Guardian, knowing how much he looked back on those days with pride, wanting nothing more to recapture it. You got a massive poster of the wheaties box with all of you on it to hang on his wall, since he wouldn’t stop talking about it. You even managed to find newspaper clips of the football team that he and Yelena talked about and had them framed and sat on his bedside table for easy accept for him to look at whenever he wanted to, much to Yelena’s dismay.

For John you made one of the rooms on his floor into a sort of relaxation room that you made sure had no wifi, no signal, nothing and force him to sit in his thoughts and just breath. You even got him some journals to go write in as he didn’t open up vocally about what he’s going through, so why not write instead. You pay homage to Lemar ‘Battlestar’ Hoskins too upon learning how close he and John were, knowing how his death had disturbed John to the core even to this day while not overstepping your boundaries upon this subject.

You were essentially their reminder to take it easier on themselves, to treat themselves better as you would force the team into activities that would prove beneficial for not only them, but to you all as a team. Movie and game nights, family dinners in the Kitchenette, team outings to a park or elsewhere when there wasn’t any missions to go on nor stupid press junkets that Valentina demands you all to attend.

‘Stop it.’ You took the vodka shot glasses from Alexei and Yelena.

‘Put it down.’ You confiscated John’s phone, pocketing it in your jeans.

‘Knock it off.’ You grab Ava by the elbow before she could phase through the wall, something she always did whenever you decided to rally the group.

‘Come one sweetheart, get in here.’ You gestured for Bob to step away from the stove where he was making breakfast for you all, wanting to make himself useful while he was learning to better understand his powers and their full extent, seeing the tired look upon his face.

You’d make them all stay in the living room won’t let anyone be left out, not stopping until all of you were laughing and having a good time, you just wanted them all to be okay and will fully intended to be harsh if you must to get the results you want from your group.

But you have days yourself when you couldn’t always protect your teammates, days where you were tired from the weight you’ve put on yourself in taking care for others over yourself that your team decided to step in themselves to help you for a change.

‘Come on, enough of that.’ John said as he took away your phone, pocketing it in his jeans as he guided you to the room he and the others had decked out just for you. It took them a week but it was worth it. fairy lights hung from the ceiling, bookshelves lined the walls, a projector was lying in wait to be used, loveseats were placed wherever possible along with little gifts each of the thunderbolts best suited you and your room.

Yelena- a collage of pictures of yourself and her along with the other team members falling asleep on one another during movie nights, having self care days or even having a makeshift fashion show in order to make you laugh with tears. A plushy that looked like Fanny and Houdini the guinea pig. It was the least she could do when you reminded her to put down the bottle, put down the phone and allow herself to be in the company of people who love her and were just as fucked up as her, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her out of the room and forcing her to talk Fanny for a walk.

Ava- a painting she made of you that was hung on the wall, trinkets to put in the alcove units John had installed, and even found a plush window sill seat should you ever want to look out the window without having to worry about a sore and numb ass afterwards. It was the least she could do when she needed to escape, phasing into your room and lying on your bed while you kept her company, making sure to keep some distance between each other as you knew touch was something she was iffy on especially when over exerting herself.

Bob- books that were well loved and well read by him that he’d thought and hoped would help you, the sweater you kept stealing from him, and a weighted plushy he had help picking out for you. He even picked out some vine wall decorations to hang over the bookshelves to give them a more fantasy feeling. It was the least he could do for the times you’ve stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep, for opening your door for him whenever he needed to talk to someone, for giving him the tools to help better himself mentally.

Alexei- a massive poster of him as red guardian, a fishing rod for he drags you and the others to go fishing and vodka shot glasses, and flower table lights. Helped Ava set up the cushioned window sill seat. It was the least he could do for when you helped him take the opportunity to do something new with this second chance in the limelight, to do things he’s always wanted to do while also helping repair his and Yelena’s relationship in the process.

John- some throw blankets, cushions, put together alcove units for you to use however you saw fit. Also helped Ava and Alexei with the window sill seat as he claimed they were doing it wrong. It was the least he could do for the times where you’d pull him away from public view and practically shield him from view, from another bad new outlet about him for him to drown in later. Telling him that he owed them nothing.

You almost felt like crying upon seeing the room and the personal touches each of your team had left behind, you knew most of them fucking sucked as speaking their feelings but the fact that they had all come together just for you. It showed that they cared for you and acted as the biggest thank you you’ve ever received in your life, reminding you why you were so hellbent on keeping their heads above water, for moments like this where you could see them healing and accepting of themselves.

You were proud of your dysfunctional team, you would keep defending them until you couldn’t anymore, they still very much needed you but you needed them just as much and standing in the room they’ve took great care in crafting just for you only proved such.

‘Thank you.’ You said to them.

‘No,’ Alexei said, clapping you on the shoulder, ‘thank you.’

[botanicsoul]

Girrrrrrlllll I love your work! You are so talented i was gonna ask if you are down to write a hate sex type fic with bakugou :ppppp if you’re not down totally fine already eating up your work anyway so much love from Türkiye 💕💕💕

Yes yes YES!! im obsessed with this ;) Love you lots babe and thank you so much for this request 🙈💕

Spite & Sparks

timeskip | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

. ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

You hated him.

You hated how fucking rude he was. How he talked to people like they were beneath him, like he didn’t have time for anyone’s shit. You hated that smug, arrogant smirk on his face whenever you opened your mouth to argue with him—like he loved watching you get worked up.

You hated how cocky he was, how his presence sucked the air out of the room, demanding attention without saying a word. You hated his stupid grenadier hero costume and how it clung to every inch of his hard, cut body like it was designed just to make you look.

But most of all, you hated that it worked.

You hated how easily he had you moaning his name, legs spread and hips tilted, back arching for more of him even as the words left your mouth—

“I fucking hate you,” you spat, voice shaky, eyes glassy as your fists balled into the sheets beneath you.

You were shaking. Your thighs were trembling from the effort of holding yourself up, from the way he hadn’t let up for even a second. He knew what he was doing. He knew how deep to hit, how fast to move, how to drag his hand down the curve of your back just to watch you arch for him even when you didn’t want to.

And you were fighting it—fighting him.

Your face was flushed, your teeth dug into your bottom lip to keep the sounds in. You were right there, right on the fucking edge—but you refused to give him the satisfaction.

Bakugou noticed. Of course he did.

“Oh, you holdin’ back now?” he growled, voice dipped in heat and arrogance. “Tryna pretend you ain’t about to come all over my cock?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You just gasped, jaw tight, legs shaking.

He laughed—mocked you—rolling his hips deeper, angling himself just right. “Tch. That’s cute. Thinkin’ you got control.”

“I’m not…oh shit—” you cried out when he snapped his hips forward hard, hitting that one spot that made your whole body light up.

“Not what? Not gonna come?” His voice dripped smug satisfaction. “Baby, your pussy’s fuckin’ twitchin’ on me I can feel you milkin’ me.”

“I hate you,” you panted, a sob threatening to break through the words. “I hate you katsuki.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked against your neck, voice low and dangerous. “Then fine. Don’t come.”

He fucked into you harder. Meaner. Grinning when your hips bucked back against him, desperate. “Don’t come, if you hate me that much. Be a good little brat and hold it aaaaalllll in.”

You whimpered—your body betraying you in the worst fucking way. You were right there, teetering.

“What’s the matter?” he cooed, mocking. “Pussy too weak? Huh? She don’t hate me like you do?”

His fingers dragged between your legs, found your clit, started circling it—slow and cruel. “Oh god,” you gasped, body lurching forward, a broken moan ripping out of your throat.

“Go ahead,” he growled, voice strained now, too turned on to hide it. “Let go. Make a fuckin’ mess on me. Come like the hate-filled little bitch you are.”

You wanted to fight it. You wanted to keep the hate on your tongue, not the moans. But when he whispered your name in that low, possessive voice, and slammed into you just right—

You shattered. And Bakugou felt it. Felt the way you clenched and cried and shook beneath him, heard the way you sobbed his name like it was a curse.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, voice rough, thick with lust as he watched you fall apart beneath him. “Look at you, princess. You fuckin’ love me.”

You were still trembling—hips twitching, jaw slack, your whole body flushed from the orgasm that ripped through you. And you hated that he could see it. See how wrecked you were. How much he affected you.

He slowed his hips, grinding into you with slow, punishing rolls that kept you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. But then—his hand left your hip.

You flinched when you felt it on your face. His thumb pressed gently to your cheek, trailing up to brush under your eye. Tender. Almost sweet. The contrast made your chest tighten.

“Look at me,” he muttered.

You tried to resist, tried to keep your eyes squeezed shut. But he gave your cheek the softest little tap—not hard, just enough.

“C’mon, baby. Gimme those eyes.”

And you did. Slowly. Hating the way your gaze met his like gravity was pulling you in.

His thumb rubbed over your cheek again. The pad of it was calloused, warm, achingly careful.

“You fuckin’ hate me, huh?” he said, softer now. His tone still had that edge, “That why you come so fuckin’ hard for me?”

You swallowed, breath catching. “I hate you,” you whispered one last time.

But the way you leaned into his touch? The way your lips parted, eyes half-lidded and glassy?

He smirked like he already knew the truth.

“Yeah, baby?,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your temple, cock still buried deep inside you.

“Well I fuckin’ love you.”

He knew the truth. The way you were still grinding against him, still begging for more?

“I love you too,” you whimpered lowly, voice cracked and ruined.

. ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

[gyllenhaalstories]

i lined up a bunch of songs to set the mood for this bad boy. that's what plays in da clurb right? just 2000s-2010s music pounding like a jackhammer through all the sweaty people's eardrums? i wouldn't know. anyway. i set the mood, getting ready for another masterpiece written by you <3

AND BOY WAS I NOT READY. BOY BOY BOY. he is so cringe he is so awful he is so sleazy. i hated every word that came out of his mouth, your writing is absolutely unmatched. pure genius.

also omg that header is so cool!!!!!! i love it!!! the bubblegum pop of colour almost distracted me from the the STD guy written in tiny tiny font down there. std guy. i can't. there is no better name. he oozes with std energy.

“What would we need a condom for, hm, silly girl? They're just cuddling. She hugs him, baby, hugs him real tight.” He pushes his cock forward to your clenching hole, but never makes the final move, never dips in. Your mind tells you no, yet your body clearly wants it, to be fucked. “And he likes her. Look, they're kissing.” He draws his hips back, cock in hand, and starts dabbing and tapping and burrowing the thick, plush tip against you. “Just making out, like us. That's okay, right? Kissing?”

that is DISGUSTING. give it to me now.

“This isn't even sex, baby. It's just. The. Tip.” He tilts your head up and looks at you over his stupid aviators. “Listen, we can stop if you don't want this. I'm doing this just for you. Because you asked me to. You wanted more, right? Wanted to feel good?”

THAT IS DISGUSTING!!!!!!!!! fuck why is it so hot.

Your head nods, maybe a little prompted by his fingers under your chin.

it keeps getting worse. i mean better. better in a worse way? yeah.

not the slip and slide pussy. sigh. he doesn't deserve the slip and slide.

NOW THE STD GUY IS PROJECTING BYE I AM SO SICK OF HIM and my god you'd think he's fucked enough people to know where the clit is by now but NOPE. maybe if he took off his stupid aviator glasses he could see better.

“Don’t tell me you're close already, baby?” You see him grin before your eyes roll back, your vision turning black. “I thought I would be special. But you're just using me. Just want my cock.” He lets his hips snap into you, thrusting in too deep but in a good way. “Little cockslut.” & “For real? A cockslut but not a cum dump? Such a rare breed, aren’t you?”

SICK, HE IS SICK. THE QR CODE???????? HOW DID YOU THINK OF ALL OF THAT H-O-W!!!!

“Fuck it.” You put his card into your bra. Stupid cockslut.

oh fuck off of course the closing sentence is insane LIKE THE REST OF THE FIC. i loathe him so much. i love this so much.

fun fact! whenever he gave his dick pronouns i just imagined it's that little guy from the trolls movies. gummy worm dick with pronouns. i cursed myself so now i have to share the struggle <3 yes i am on a sugar high because i ate way too many candies. 2 am is prime time candy time.

YOU'RE CRAZY IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DAPHNE

fuckboy

unnamed ppu character x f!reader | wc: 3.5 k | explicit, mdni

summary: you meet this guy at a bar, drink too much and he shows you his questionable definition of making out aka storage room sex. spoiler: it's never just the tip.

warnings: filth, very dubious dub-con, drunk reader, her consent is questionable, gaslighting, manipulating, he's an insufferable fuckboy and needs to go to hell actually, he's a bad lay, unspecified but legal age gap, fingering, rough-ish unprotected PinV, creampie, petnames (baby, cockslut), dick+pussy pronouns, two ass smacks, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied

a/n: this bitch was supposed to be a tiny drabble. oops. inspired by this post. @iamasaddie, you wanted me to elaborate, here you go, i hope this tingles in adult ways, at least a little bit. thank you for your help with the header <3 and thank you @guiltyasdave for the same as always: everything (aka beta and unlimited support and love 💕)

The bar is brimming, buzzing, the bass vibrates through every single person in the room, raw dogging each one of them, one after another and all at the same time.

He looks ridiculous. Too old for a place like this, hideous but somehow sexy Hawaiian shirt, of course only buttoned up halfway to show off his toned chest and a gold chain necklace, and he wears sunglasses, indoors. Big violet mirrors, aviator shaped, hiding behind them. Hiding his intentions but they are oh so clear.

The guy purses his lips, eyebrows dancing, hips moving side to side and back to front, obviously a preview of what’s to be expected if someone hooks up with him.

It was the blondish-white strand in the otherwise dark hair that made you weak for him. You don't even know why. While the rest of the man screams ‘fuckboy’ the blonde strand purrs ‘baby boy’.

The strand looks so pretty, whenever the color of the lights changes, always tinted in red or orange or blue. The strand looks really pretty in the storage room, too. It begs to be touched and tugged.

So you do. You touch it and gently tug it while he touches your thighs and tugs on your panties. Then he tugs them aside and you whimper when he runs his thumb through your slit without a warning.

“How old are you exactly?” he rasps against your neck, licking your skin while his thumb searches for something. Your clit probably, you think and moan when he finds it for a moment.

“Old enough to drink alcohol,” you mutter and let your head fall back against the tiled wall. The turned over crates bite into the flesh of your ass, empty bottles rattle when he pulls you closer towards him.

“So you're old enough for this bad boy.” He grins at you, a stupid proud grin, and takes your hand away from his hair and guides it to the bulge in his jeans. When you don't start moving your hand, he does it for you, over the whole length and back. “You want him? Wanna see him? You do, right?”

His damp breath brushing your ear adds to the dizziness in your head. Your head is spinning a little from the music and the drinks. Spinning, just like his thumb, that is now circling close enough around your clit to finally feel good.

“I dunno,” you murmur and try to get your swimming mind to focus.

“That's not a no, baby. So you want him. I knew it.” His free hand fumbles with his zipper. The crates you're sitting on quake when he pulls down his jeans. And before you know it, you feel something in your palm. Smooth and hard and hot, heavy, jumping in your hand.

It’s not exactly what you signed up for earlier, when he paid for two of your drinks and sucked on your earlobe. When he said something about you being so cute and making out with him. Just kissing. I promise, baby. I know a place. And then he dragged you along with him into this crammed storage room that smells like booze and sweat.

You kissed, for a minute or so. But now you have his cock in your hand. You look down and his thumb swipes over your clit, making you moan and him twitch. Why do you have his cock in your hand? He feels so heavy and warm. He feels a bit good, actually.

His hand moves to cup your cunt, the ball of his thumb pressing against your sensitive nub and a nimble finger -or two?- is slipping into you and immediately back out. At least that's what it felt like, you're not sure. But you feel yourself clamp down on nothing, chasing what was there just a second ago. His tongue moves over your pulse and a whine escapes you.

“Oh, I know, baby, you like him, right?” He moves closer, trapping you between the cold wall and his warm body, between the plastic crate and his dick. A finger dips into your heat again, deeper now, deep enough for you to be sure about feeling him inside of you. This is definitely not just kissing, but it somehow feels good.

“Baby, she wants me. You feel it, too, right?” His tongue runs along your neck and to your ear, his hips buck and your fingers tighten around his cock. He’s so hard beneath all the hot smoothness.

His fingers are pushing in deeper now and you clench around him. “See? You want me. You're so wet, baby. You know that it means you want me.” He pulls his fingers out and presses them back in, matching his thrusts in your palm with the rhythm of fingering you.

You groan out a curse and start accepting your fate. Fine, then you're getting fingered in exchange for a few drinks. That's okay, he's not too bad at it. The thickness of his fingers is half the battle.

The small blonde strand is catching your attention and lures your hazy mind in. Baby boy. Your body already surrenders to his ministrations and you roll your hips, moaning when he slips in another fraction of an inch.

“Mhmm, jus' what I thought. Desperate, that's what you are. You want more? You feel good?”

You dumbly nod your head because all you're able to think about is the throbbing ache in your pussy and the smooth movement of his cock in your hand. Yeah, he makes you feel good. With a wet sound he pulls his fingers out again.

“I'll give you more then, if that's what you want.” He nudges your hand off his dick and grips himself at the base. “Baby, look. He's excited for you.”

You look between your bodies again and squint to get a clearer vision. Precum. He's leaking. There's a clear drop forming over his slit. No, this definitely is not just kissing. Your eyes meet his again and when you open your mouth to speak he shifts forward and wedges the fat head of his cock between your folds.

You're whining again, your hips bucking into the sensation. A moment of clarity forms between your dazed mind and your nudged clit: Fuck. Shit. No. You don't even know his name.

When you start squirming he grabs you by your waist, firmly but not painfully. He hums, sounding a bit strained now. Slowly, slowly his dick glides back and forth through your slit, pushing at your nub whenever he reaches it.

“Baby, what's the problem? It feels good, doesn't it?” His eyebrows dance and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. “God, you're so messy, listen.”

It's true, you can hear the squelching over the soft clinking of bottles in the crate whenever he guides himself all the way to your entrance, rubbing his shaft against you.

“Yeah, but…” You groan quietly when he moves his hips back and drag himself along your clit. “A condom. You have one?”

He just laughs and continues his movements through your slick folds.

“What would we need a condom for, hm, silly girl? They're just cuddling. She hugs him, baby, hugs him real tight.” He pushes his cock forward to your clenching hole, but never makes the final move, never dips in. Your mind tells you no, yet your body clearly wants it, to be fucked.

“And he likes her. Look, they're kissing.” He draws his hips back, cock in hand, and starts dabbing and tapping and burrowing the thick, plush tip against you. “Just making out, like us. That's okay, right? Kissing?”

He pushes deeper again, only to move back immediately. Back and forth, just his tip rubbing you, just the fat rim teasing and teasing and teasing your aching clit. It looks good, the way he appears and disappears again, all glistening.

“That's okay, yes,” you mutter breathily, trying to suppress another moan. He doesn't let up, keeps the slow rhythm of back and forth. God, you need his fingers again, he needs to numb the pulse inside of you.

“I know it's okay. Feels good, hm?” he whispers sweetly against your lips before flicking his tongue against your top lip. “She feels so good, baby… You like how he feels? Like how my cock feels?”

You nod your head again and meet his movements halfway, tilting your hips so you can feel him prod your entrance a little more. The emptiness inside starts hurting and you whimper with his lips ghosting yours. He smells of beer and body spray, all mixing together with a whiff of arousal.

“I need… I need…” you gasp out and try to grind against him as good as you can.

“You want me to stop? Is it too much?” His movements come to a halt and he pulls away slightly, grinning and hiding it behind a sweet little peck.

You squirm again, this time closer instead of away. One hand clutches his, the one he pumps himself with. You swallow, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. They taste like booze and beer.

“No, no, god, please. I need a lil' more?” You tug on him, trying to guide his hand back right up against your core.

“Oh, I'm not sure, baby…” He gives in a little bit and lets his leaking cock rest against your sensitive nub again. “You really want more of me? Of him?”

You tug more on his hand, frustrated with his hesitation. “Need you inside,” you groan and pull on his fingers, wanting them back in your aching cunt.

“Inside? Are you sure?” He lets you squeeze his fingers into the wetness of your slit, carefully letting his dick follow.

“Yes! Please,” you whine and let go of his hand when he prods you with a single digit. Thank fuck, you think.

“But jus’ the tip,” he murmurs almost apologetically.

Your question about what the hell he is talking about is knocked out of your brain the moment you feel a stretch that’s not coming from his fingers. He presses inside of you. Just the tip, like he said. Like you never meant it. But he stretches you so perfectly on the first inches that you can’t even protest. Until he withdraws himself again.

“That good, baby? That what you want? Say yes,” he pleas, his breath hot against your ear and you feel him shift again. His dick slides all the way through your slit to your clit and back, slowly pressing back into you again.

“Fuck, yes.” It feels good. Better than the aching. You just want to feel stuffed. Your forehead drops onto his shoulder and you whimper when he continues to sluggishly fuck you with his fat tip. “But… a condom?”

He sighs and when he pulls out he stops moving again, leaving you hanging and you pussy clenching desperately.

“This isn't even sex, baby. It's just. The. Tip.” He tilts your head up and looks at you over his stupid aviators. “Listen, we can stop if you don't want this. I'm doing this just for you. Because you asked me to. You wanted more, right? Wanted to feel good?”

Your head nods, maybe a little prompted by his fingers under your chin.

“See, there we have it. You want this and they're just making out. Tongue kissing.” He pushes back in and it feels better than before. But you can't really say if he’s in deeper? You don't care too much. Tongue kissing. It makes sense. “I'm just doing this for you, baby. Because you seem to need it so badly.”

He smiles a friendly and seemingly sincere smile while pulling out and pushing back into you, painfully slow. Like scratching an itch with nothing but a tickle.

“I really care about you, hm?” His whisper fleets to your ear when he drops your face back to his shoulder. The next shallow thrust makes him grunt and your pussy clamps down on him. He slips past the tight spot -accidentally probably?- and you feel full for a second. Filled and good and you want it again.

But he draws back again, moaning into the crook of your neck. “Sorry ‘bout that, baby. But you're so wet. Got a slip and slide pussy there.”

His hips roll and his tip nudges back into you. Again and again, until your fingers are clutching him and your body writhes towards him, desperate for more depth. The edge of the crate cuts into the meat of your ass, the bottles rattling with every small thrust.

There isn't much to it. In your hazy mind this thought appears like a beacon. He's been inside already. The damage is already done, nothing you could take back now. He could fuck you stupid instead of feeding you this sample sized version of sex.

He wedges his hard cock back into your hole and slips out again, leaving your cunt sopping and clenching and empty. You can feel your slick slowly running down your thighs. You rarely ever felt this horny, this desperate for a dick. It’s almost like he teases you on purpose.

“Fuck me,” you whine and command at the same time. “God, just fuck me.”

“You sure? I don't have a condom. Are you clean?”

You manage to scoff at his audacity but… maybe he wouldn't ask this if he wasn't clean himself? That's good. It's safe, somewhat safe.

“Of course I'm clean.” You want to sound confident and pissed off but your voice is whiny and morphs into a moan when he thrusts into you halfway.

“I'm trusting you then. Don't lead me on.” He sounds strained now, strangled, with your snug cunt squeezing him.

A handful more slow strokes and he's buried balls deep. Both of you pant, you because your aching gets soothed and he because you pulse around him. Your body tries to egg him on to fucking move, but he just stays still.

“Shit. She tight.” He lets out a single hoarse laughter before his hips buck just a little deeper into you and you swear he must be somewhere in your guts. “Christ, she’s gripping him.”

He pulls out, almost completely, and fills you back up with one harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” you moan and hook your legs behind his ass when the tower of crates beneath you starts shaking from the impact. And then he starts fucking you, hard. Fast. The bottles rattle rhythmically in time with his thrusts.

His hands dig into your hips when he grabs hard enough to feel your bones. He pulls you onto him, fucking himself with you.

He's not good per se, just slamming into you over and over again, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh pump. But he has a good sized cock, just an inch too long and a little too girthy. The stretching is never ending, the slight sting hurts just right, and his pelvis hitting your poor, swollen, teased clit is going to finish you sooner or later. You just feel so full. The way he stretches you out on his cock makes you dumb.

“You always do this?” He snarls, using the wobbling crate tower for more leverage. “Getting a guy to fuck you in the backrooms? You just need it that bad?” His thumb somehow finds your pulsing nub and he starts to rub it roughly until your legs quake around his waist from the stimulation.

“Oh… oh fuck…” Your nerve endings are on fire and your muscles twitch and clench. You clutch his arm, nails digging into his bicep when he won’t stop to harshly flick and rasp over your clit. Despite it all, you feel the familiar tug behind your navel. The heat is not building slowly, it’s approaching you violently.

“Don’t tell me you're close already, baby?” You see him grin before your eyes roll back, your vision turning black. “I thought I would be special. But you're just using me. Just want my cock.” He lets his hips snap into you, thrusting in too deep but in a good way. “Little cockslut.”

You whine, wanting to protest but you’re pinned down on the tilting crates, spread over this guy’s girth with your toes curling in your shoes. Complaining is the last thing on your mind.

“You gotta pull out.” Probably the only coherent thought you have left. You’re on birth control, but having this stranger’s cum dripping down your legs later when you're back with your friend?

“For real? A cockslut but not a cum dump? Such a rare breed, aren’t you?” His laughter sounds choked, breathless, the wet slapping of his slicked balls against your ass just as loud as his words. “I’ll pull out, don't worry, baby.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and plucks your leg off of his waist. Even though your muscles are already tense and twitching he straightens it out over his chest. “But first I’ll make you come on him.” Another hard hip snap and the changed angle makes you see twinkling stars on your retina when he hits you deeper. He grins down at you when you cry out your pleasure. “That's right, baby, let me hear you. Let the people hear that you're my little cockslut.”

His lips latch to your ankle that's resting on his shoulder and sucks on your skin as if he wants to brand you. And while he somehow manages to fuck you harder you wonder how many women in this bar have a hickey on their ankles.

And then you stop thinking. His thrusts turn sloppy, sweat forms on his forehead and runs down your leg and adds to your slick. “I’ll make you come so hard. You can feel it, right? Make you gonna black out on my cock, baby.” A nip to your ankle and then a smack on the side of your ass and your pussy starts clenching and choking on his girth. Still he keeps on fucking into you, struggling with how hard your muscles tighten around him.

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

Your yelp makes him grip you tighter and with a last thrust you fall right over the edge. His moans ring in your ears when his hips stutter, but he keeps fucking you through it. Your spasming body is held securely in his arms, preventing you to hurt yourself on the wobbly crates.

“Fuck, that's it, baby. Best pussy I ever fucked, I swear,” he hisses when his hips start stuttering. “Gonna make me fucking come. Gonna come for you. You want that?” He slams into you and somehow prolongs your orgasm with how he spreads your quaking cunt open over and over again. More of that, you want more of this orgasm.

So you nod your head and moan, trembling like the stacked bottles beneath your body. “Yes, I want that, please. Jus’ don’t stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass and he gives you a few last pumps before he pushes into and against you so hard that it makes you wince. Through the pulsing of your walls you feel him throbs and twitch, spitting out his cum so deep into you that you feel stuffed, really fucking stuffed. And it feels so good.

After a second he starts rolling his hips, letting himself be milked by your pussy until he finally and unceremoniously pulls out. He tilts his head, looking at his handiwork over the rim of his aviators. “Fuck yes. She’s so pretty like that, all wrecked.” The tip of his cock squeezes through your swollen and ruined slit once more, slipping into your gaping hole to draw another moan out of you. When he pulls out again some of his cum gets pushed out and starts running down to your ass.

“You… you didn’t pull out?” Despite your anger your body still vibrates and twitches.

“Couldn't. She gripped me too tight. It’s her fault,” he smirks and pets your mound. “But don't worry, I'm snipped, baby.”

He wipes himself dry with his hand, doing a poor job but he doesn't seem to care. Still half hard and sticky he stuffs his dick back into his boxers. “You want my number, baby?”

“Fuck you,” you hiss and search the storage room for some tissues.

“I knew you'd break my heart, baby,” he chuckles and watches you clean yourself. “But I really like you. You're special. Got a perfect pussy, too. Here, if you wanna use me again, I'm all yours.”

He pulls out something off his pocket, like a business card. No name or number printed on it. He puts it on a crate next to you before kissing your forehead. “God, baby, I think I’m in love with you,” he croons with a shit eating grin.

“Sure you are, fuck off.”

He lifts his hands and walks backwards until he reaches the door. “Gonna miss you.” He purses his lips, making a little kiss noise and disappears back into the bar.

You look over your own appearance and see the blank business card. When you turn it around you see it. A fucking QR code. A fuckboy with a QR code. Some more cum leaks into your pulled back panties and you bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Fuck it.” You put his card into your bra. Stupid cockslut.

you liked this? that's alright, we are all filthy little animals here. commenting or reblogging is appreciated, thank you! <3

want more dub-con? maybe you like this short Dave York fic: tainted heart

find my general masterlist here

dividers: as always @/saradika-graphics

[luigisbambinaaa]

you're riding luigi and he's being a bit #too loud with the moaning, so you bite into his neck (not too hard) to shut him up :⁠-⁠)

then after y'all are done his neck is bruised with hickeys and shit 🤍🩷

shut up, luigi.

summary: luigi’s too loud. you fix that. he doesn’t expect to love it so much.

content warning: p in v, biting, marking, pain kink (i think), tears, hickeys, sub (?) lu

an: oh my god anon, you and i think exactly alike. i was just on pinterest saving things for this exactly all morning. can you imagine taming frat boy era lu with biting in his dorm omgggg. i also just really wanted another excuse to write something bc im procrastinating my other fic. hope you enjoy!! SEND ME MORE THOUGHTS!!! also sorry if the formatting is weird i typed this on my laptop lol.

other works: priest! luigi, soft spot, soft spot pt 2, post-prison luigi, making out w/ luigi

part 2: marked

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

luigi was cocky when you climbed into his lap.

already laid back in his twin bed like this had been his idea, his t shirt riding up his stomach and eyes dark with amusement.

“what?” he smirked. “finally gonna give in? could’ve just begged me, baby.”

he talked big, steady running his mouth. swore you would end up being the one who’d end up a mess, that you just could resist

him.

but now?

you’re bouncing on his cock and that smirk he wore is longggg gone.

his hands are digging into your hips, trying to keep up, but he can’t. his head falling back against his pillows while his curls stick to

his forehead. even his thighs are trembling under yours.

and he’s moaning. like crazy.

“f-fuck—holy shit—i can’t—“

messy. loud. like you’re fucking the absolute soul out of him.

you slap a hand over his mouth.

“luigi,” you hiss at him. “shut the fuck up.”

he whines into your palm.

so of course you lean in and bite his neck, right under his jaw, deep and sharp.

he screams through his teeth, broken, high, and desperate, his cock twitching hard inside you.

“you gonna be good?” you murmur, already licking and lapping at the bruise.

“y-yeah—YES—please keep going—“

you bite him again, lower and harder. and he bucks up into you like he’s going to fall apart right there.

“you’re so fucking loud. moaning like you’re in a fucking porno,” you growl. “your frat brothers are gonna hear.”

“th-then ride me quieter, he gasps, out of breath.

so you do the opposite.

you ride him harder. faster. letting your thighs slap into his, letting the sound of your bodies drown out his moans since they’re getting

filthier and filthier.

every time your teeth sink into his throat, he absolutely melts. he starts begging for it even. “please—please bite me again.”

“don’t stop marking me.” “mark me like i’m yours.”

by the time he cums, he’s crying.

he shakes through it, voice breaking and nails digging into your thighs. you bite him again right as he finishes and he just screams into your

shoulder. his cum flooding you. his hips finally stutter and his whole body goes limp beneath you.

you roll off of him slow, catching your breath while he’s still gasping into his pillows, blinking up at the ceiling wrecked.

his chest is flushed and his thighs are still twitching.

you lean over, brushing his sweaty curls back, and press one last kiss to the raw spot that’s blooming under his jaw.

“take a look,” you murmur. “see what a mess you are.”

he blinks, still dazed but fumbles for his phone with shaking hands. flips the camera and turns it toward himself.

and stops breathing.

his whole neck is wrecked.

bruises scattered from his collarbone to his throat, bite marks and hickeys clear as day. angry, purple, even red. like your mouth tried to

claim every inch of skin it could find there. some are swelling yet all of them scream he’s yours.

he touches one gingerly. winces then moans.

“holy fuck,” he breathes. “i look fucking mauled.”

you just smile and kiss his cheek, smug.

“but you loved every second of it.”

he swallows and stares at his reflection. and then, softly:

“yeah, i really fucking did.”

he doesn’t even bother getting redressed, just lays there, marked and limped, letting the cool air settle over his stinging skin.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

guys i don’t mean to overload the hashtags buttt would it be too freaked out to write a part 2 after you’re gone he’s admiring the bruises and pressing into them to feel the pain and gets off on that?? lmk!! hehehe.

[mediumgayitalian]

this post: I NEED A SOLANGELO OFFICE AU FIC WHERE NICO IS THE CEO AND COLD AND EVERYONE HATES HIM AND WILL IS HIS ASSISTANT WHO THINKS HE'S HIT BUT STILL THINKS HE'S MEAN AND STRAIGHT BUT SOMETHING HAPPENS AND THEY GRADUALLY GROW CLOSER AND NICO STARTS WARMING UP TO HIM AND IT'S MUTUAL PINING AND UGH SOMEONE WRITE THIS PLEASE I BEG

(https://www.tumblr.com/icantspelll/782319142725369856/i-need-a-solangelo-office-au-fic-where-nico-is-the?source=share)

👀👀

oh ho ho. happy you asked. post here. excuse me as this is a little all over the place and also somehow 3500 fucking words again and also i pretty much wrote the climax scene but WHATEVER its in my head now

modern au obviously.

there is a car accident.

a big one.

lee is brain-dead. on life support, and getting constant visitation, but...yeah there's not a lot of hope there. michael is in somewhat of a halfway house, newly unable to walk, at least for now, and with a host of other symptoms that make living at home hard. he needs assisted car.

will got off relatively scot-free. he had some minor brain damage and now has a migraine disorder and a shitton of burn scars from trying to drag his brothers out of a burning vehicle before they all blew up.

him and his mother also now have a whole lot of debt.

(it does not help that michael refuses to see them...the guilt from being the driver is hard. will is devastated to have lost not one brother, but two, in some ways.)

he starts working for this medical nonprofit partially because theyre hiring (desperate for a PA bc no one will stay under nico's bitch ass long enough) and also bc he's hoping to do a little fraud and get his bills paid maybe

(theyre desperate.)

rachel hires will i think. she is nervous in the interview not in the shy way but in the oh god i cannot tell him whats actually waiting for him way. i dont want him to walk out. fuck.

i think shes the main secretary. yeah.

nico interrupts the interview to bark about needing something.

rachel is so crushed bc now this guy will never accept the position fuck.

except will takes it easy as anything -- he DID go through med school and is very used to being yelled at and treated like shit by superiors. he has also worked in service. he doesnt even blink. its about dry cleaning or some dumb shit like that, just something nico needs picked up and fast because hes already late and irritable

so wills like ive got it sir. gimme an address and ill bring it to your office. can i get you a coffee while you wait?

and his voice is light, then he raises his eyebrows, slightly, and says, same tone, but eyes a little steely, or perhaps a xanax?

and rachel CHOKES.

but nico just scowls and go coffee is fine. GOOD espresso from this specific coffee shop or im not paying for it.

so rachel is like god fuck you want the job then? and will is like yah sounds good. and hauls ass immediately to the coffee shop, which happens to be the one lou or cecil work at, and he gets special best friend privileges to skip to the front of the line and get his espresso going I GOT THE JOB OKAY LOVE YOU BYE and hauls ass to whatever errand. comes back.

and its just.

for weeks nico is increasingly more demanding and absurd, like he usually is, because PAs quit after a week. but will is NOT QUITTING. so nico is kind of taking it like a challenge to be more and more impossible but will takes everything in stride with quick attitude and no issues whatsoever.

nico asks him to do four things at once and will is like "hm impossible as i am not heracles try that one again" and nico, kind of shocked since no one has ever outright refused him before, DOES. he asks for something more reasonable

like will is SO GOOD. he knows all the medical terminology, hes fast, he knows EVERYBODY, and with him as nicos PA meetings go better?? somehow?? people are charmed by will's smile and quick wit and boy is it a break from nico's snapping.

because they like will more theyre less likely to be difficult for nico, and the actual nonprofit stuff they are trying to do gets a lot easier to do

nico would be huffy about it but like. will makes his life easier too

seems to always know when nico has a headache and when he was sick refused to let him come into the office, shoved his ass onto the subway -- where he had never been even once in his life -- and brought him back to his (penthouse.) apartment and cared for him until he passed out

they dont talk about it but its like the most caring nico has recieved in a hot minute and it def changes the vibe between them

nico is gruff but he is less abrasive. he thanks will when will does stuff for him. he actually eats when will brings his meals and cheerfully sits with him instead of scowling out the window. he even lets will coach him on being less of a jackass in meetings and (tries) to take that advice.

the office is gagged. will is EVERYTHING.

but then nico gets this -- inoccuous notification.

about a small case file being approved, money being sent somewhere.

and he frowns because...he didnt approve that.

nico may be a nightmare but he is a nightmare who CARES. he looks at every file on his desk. he remembers details for every case he can.

and he did NOT send money to this particular care facility. as it is usually covered by their rival company and nico knows better than to mess with that

but he looks further into it and realizes there have been a LOT of funds sent without his approval. and he realizes that the person approving them has been will.

and he is FURIOUS.

this boy he has trusted -- he has let into his HOME, he has shared meals with, he has laughed with and even shared secrets with -- is fucking with his company. and sending money to OCTAVIAN'S insurance company no less, their biggest rival.

he calls will over and fires him on the spot basically.

will cant explain himself. everything is falling apart around him. he doesnt even have the words.

hes a little heartbroken, too. because nico -- the man whom hes really starting to fall for -- calls him a fraud, and hes right.

he doesnt even pack his things. he turns around and leaves.

he doesnt cry, on the walk to the subway. even though its dark. he doesnt cry at the station. he doesnt cry on the train.

he cries a hundred yards from the lobby of his shithole apartment building, because he left the keychain his little cousin made for him on his work lanyard, now on nico's desk, and he wont ever get it back.

hes depressed as hell. he wont stay in his room, because that scares his mother, but he drags himself to michael's facility every day even though michael still wont see him and plays with the kids living there, trying not to feel too sorry for himself. and then he drags himself to lee, even though lee is fucking brain dead, and then he drags himself to whatever part time job he can find.

nico, on the other hand, is a NIGHTMARE.

will has been there long enough that everyone has kind of forgotten who he was before, but whatever he was, this version is worse. hes acerbic and sullen and fucking AWFUL. almost cruel. people come back from meetings in frustrated tears and not even rachel can stand to work with him. the atmosphere in the office is shot.

she comes to him, one late night.

i know he stole from us. and i know thats hard. but he was good, nico. he was a good person. i think you should at least find out why.

nico just ignores her. rachel sighs, and walks away. shes ready to find a new job, honestly -- she is proud of the work she is doing at this company and she has worked here so long, but this is unbearable. she cant live like this. shes not even the only one who feels this way.

one day nico sends for coffee. they still have no PA so jason volunteers to get it, and he comes back, way later than he should be, and he is bright eyed and frantic and there is a barista in tow behind him. and jason doesnt even leave the lobby he hollers for nico to get his ass over. nico does, eventually, scowling at his shouting, snapping at him what the fuck is your problem im busy and jason is like NO. no. dont talk to me like that. dont GIVE me that! you dont fucking listen. you dont listen to a single other person, nico, and that is your problem!

and nico locks his jaw and goes fine, then.

and jason falters and hes like no, no. since you know everything. go on.

and there are like.

crowds.

but jason doesnt care and nico is not looking. so jason takes a deep breath and goes firing will was wrong.

and nico goes the man who stole from us? that was wrong?

and jason steels himself and says firmly yes. did you even ask him why?

and nico says im not one to give alibis to thieves, no.

but jason scowls and goes LISTEN, you prick. listen. and he gestures to cecil, who is following the exchange with wide eyes and kind of realizing for the first time how maybe fucked his best friend is.

but if theres one thing about cecil markowitz its that he's LOYAL.

so he straightens up and gets serious and goes: how much do you know about will's car accident.

and nico blinks. and hes like. wills what.

and cecil is like. you know. the car accident that disabled him for life (migraines & brain damage) and killed his brother and got his other brother in assisted living facility. he spent like 15 hours of his day with you. im sure you talked about it.

and nico kind of pales because he is like oh no. oh god no please tell me he did not commit fraud for the most selfless possible reason and i punished him for it.

and cecils eyes kind of harden and he goes yeah. the disabilities that are invisible for him so that insurance companies refuse to help him. and the hospital that is charging him out of life and liberty to keep his brother on life support. surely you know about these things. that he is working so hard to fix. surely you are aware. and nico just quietly goes no. i didnt know.

and cecil goes did you ask?

did you ask about him, ever?

about his life?

his friends and his needs and the reason he sometimes called in because he was curled up on his bed with a pillow over his head in so much pain he can't speak? did you? ask about that?

and nico realizes that this is bigger than the fraud, maybe. this is, as cecil is implying, almost a year of constant CONSTANT effort from will; will sitting with him on long nights and helping him with hard cases and squeezing his hand as he whispers about his sister. effort that has not been funnelled back -- nico realizes he doesn't know will's legal name. he realizes he doesn't know his address. his -- fuck -- his favorite flowers, although will has brought him sunflowers -- his favorite -- on more than one occasion. so nico turns to cecil determined and is like help me fix it.

and cecil is like honestly im not sure i want you around my best friend. like to be real. he loves you and you didnt even give him a chance to defend himself.

and nico nods and hes like i know. i fucked up. i will make it up to him for the rest of my life.

so cecil begrudingly helps him and points out the flowers will likes on the walk. and they get to will's apartment and his mother answers the buzz and she softens, a little, because she can see just from how will speaks of this man that he loves him, even if he's made a mistake. so she tells him that he's with his brother. he is most days.

and cecil says well i am going to leave you to it. i -- can't go back there. lee was my friend too.

so nico swallows his pain and heads up to the local hospital. and the secretaries and nurses know will by NAME -- he may not have completed his residency but he has an MD, still. he was a prodigy, too, graduated early. he knows his shit and he knows his shit well, and while he isnt employed or anything he sure helps them a whole lot.

so nico follows their directions to lee's room and when he gets there will is --

well, will is balanced on lee's bed, tongue sticking out of his mouth, illegaly painting something on the wall. a sun, in the corner, by the looks of it. and dotted stars on the ceiling.

nico is like well i see where half the bills are coming from now. and will SHRIEKS and falls off the bed and nico catches him, barely, and smiles and says youre gonna get charged for vandalism, dumbass.

and will pulls away wide eyed and is like. nico. oh.

and it does not escape nico's notice that he puts himself between nico and his brother.

and boy does that feel like shit.

so nico sits down on the chair a fair distance from him and waits for will to sit too. and they lay there in silence for a significant chunk of time before nico is like, just straight up: im sorry. i made a mistake.

and will doesnt really look at him and is like i uh. i did technically funnel several thousand dollars from your company. you were not exactly in the wrong.

and nico shakes his head and hes like i mean more than that. i did not treat you well.

you dont treat anyone well.

no, you're -- different.

im different?

yes.

nico pauses, staring out the window.

i took advantage of you, i think.

and will doesnt really answer he just stares. and nico looks back at him finally and he has his hand brushing over lee's arm, absentmindedly, by habit pulling up his covers and brushing back his hair. he looks at nico the whole time.

and nico says i think you are a carer. most of all. you care for people. and you came to my company and i was in this dark space, that i have been in most of my life. i was used to it. and then you come in with your brightness and heat and i clung to you, even as i scorned you in the beginning, because you were the light after plato's cave, you know? it stung and i was sullen and hesitant but god for the first tme everything lit up.

and that just wasnt...thats not fair to you, i guess. i never thought about what you need. youre a person, not a bright thing. and im sorry for that.

and will goes well i was like. your hired assistant.

and he squirms and hes like and honestly you kind of helped me too.

and nico isnt quite ready to accept it. he says your friend tells me you were a doctor.

and will nods. almost.

a doctor, will. i didnt even know.

well, i dont talk about it.

will avoids his gaze and there is a beeping from lee's monitor, so he stands and fixes it with practice and ease. nico watches his shaking fingers still as they adjust his saline, like it is nothing.

i dont know -- how. my brother wont talk to me. lee is -- dead, functionally.

he chokes as he says it.

i relied on my brothers every day of my life and then i woke up one day and didnt recognise myself in the mirror and my two favorite people in the world were -- gone. i was adrift.

will shrugs.

i quit my program. i -- couldnt do it anyway, i guess, cant cut someone open with shaking hands. i just cried most days and struggled and the debt kept getting worse and i wanted to -- well. he doesnt say it but nico gets it, suddenly and horrifically -- will fiddles with the bandage always on his wrist and nico realizes what it hides, what will has tried to do.

i convinced myself i didnt have a purpose, nico. i was so sure of it. he looks to nico and his eyes are so dark in the setting sun. nico cant breathe.

but you gave me something, again. i mean, you were a piece of work and i went home and complained about you to anyone -- and i mean anyone -- who would listen --

he grins, and nico huffs a laugh, not doubting it --

-- but fuck, neeks. for the first time in too long i was me again. there was someone i could help. and -- well, not a bad someone either.

he looks down and there is a curl to his shoulders that is almost shy. nico stares at it, at the bob of his throat, and his mouth goes dry.

you're funny, even when youre being a jackass. and you care about people and you get things done and you arent bothered by my attitude.

i like it, nico admits, heart pounding. will looks at him and he flushes but pushes forward, still, forces the words out of his mouth. i like it when you push back at me. it makes me feel like a -- human, again. like someone who can be wrong instead of an untouchable entity.

will snorts. well i can most certainly promise you that you are wrong often.

nico quirks his lips. i know. i know. he breathes out, smile dropping. and i was hugely wrong, will, in casting you away. the foam of the arm rest creaks under his fingers. i -- want you back, if you want to come back.

will exhales, fingers tracing the swirls of lee's bedsheets. nico's heart sinks, and he knows what will is going to say before he says it.

i don't think i can work for you anymore, he confirms. he bites his lip. i -- it was a lot, nico.

nico nods, chest tight. i know. i totally under--

plus, there's something of a conflict of interest.

nico whips his head up. what?

will avoids his eyes, breathing quick and shallow, shoulders up to his ears. i'm. i think its frowned upon, when the PA wants to sleep with the boss. whole trope and everything.

nico feels his heart stutter. he meets will's guarded, careful eyes with his own wide ones, and stares, one minute, two, until the barely-there hope in will's eyes starts to fade, until he nods to himself.

i hope you'll still write me a reference letter, will jokes lightly. i mean, i dont see a lot of PAing in my future but --

im in love with you, nico blurts. marry me.

will freezes. uh.

i mean! i mean, fuck, im sorry, i -- nico is bright red and he feels it, and wills nervous little giggle makes it worse, fuck, what is he doing.

he exhales, long and slow. he balls his fists and lets go of the tension, like jason taught him. he meets will's eyes again, and this time his voice is steady.

not yet, he says firmly. don't marry me -- yet. but. he breathes out again. try, with me. he swallows. if you want to.

i want to, will says, softly.

we can get you back to med school, if you want. something other than surgery. people need doctors, will, you can always --

i want to.

-- any school you want, if you still need school -- do you still need school? -- ill pay for it, i can --

i want to.

-- i promise i am not hurting for money and thats what this whole organization is, isnt it, making the medical field more accessible, and --

nico.

nico freezes, gulping in a huge breath. will sets his brother's hand lovingly down and moves until he is crouching in front of nico's hyperventilating form, both hands gently squeezing his.

deep breaths, nico. follow me.

nico does, inhaling when he breathes in, huge and exaggerated, and exhaling when he breathes out. will keeps breathing with him until the shake in his chest steadies, until the bounce of his legs slows to something more normal.

ill marry you, nico, he says quietly. if you still want to marry me.

nico nods frantically. i do. gods, will, i do.

he places a hand on will's scarred cheek, and will leans into it, tired but soft, hesitant but believing.

i do.

long engagement, will says. he smiles wryly. it'll take you two years at least to make up for all the shit youve thrown at me.

nico laughs, drawing him in close. as long as you need, he promises. we'll do it your way, for this. we tend to, anyways. okay and they kiss etc etc

epilogue is as expected. they get married. will gets his residency in paediatrics and starts his own practice. he sees patients in low income high debt areas specifically and nicos company fights the shitball insurance policies for them. it takes time, but eventually they let lee pass. nico is there for the funeral, squeezing wills hand as he cries through his eulogy. michael lets his brother in, again, coming eventually to their company.

nicos new PA is an old largely-retired man who was once will's favourite prof. his work under nico is easy. his position is revered, and he has large shoes to fill.

the end.

some thoughts from my earliest stage of brainstorming before i hit my roll:

nico would be such a sullen asshole trying to scare will off like the rest of his PAs and wills stubborn ass is like well none of your other PAs were broke enough apparently because you could violate several subsequent labor laws in front of me and im not going anywhere. jackass. ill show you what it looks like to need MONEY

i think it would also b really funny if when will initially hears back from his application cecil and lou ellen are wide eyed going you cannot work for DI ANGELO. mafia man?????? will you are so mouthy you are going to end up dead and will is like bitch we cant eat im going to end up dead ANYWAY

but he is a little afraid of mafia man nico

that is what first breaks the tension. will mouths nico off and nico calls him into his office, sits him across his desk and just stares, silent and deadly. and after several minutes of squirming will snaps if youre going to get your mafia cronies to off me you should know my life insurance payout is fucking insane and that will be a hassle for you to handle

and

there will be no gentle parenting nico into manners here will brings a spray bottle 💀

"get me x and x's number now"

(spray)

"MOTHERFU" (through gritted teeth) "get me their number please"

(spray)

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME."

"treat me like a person"

"...sorry. can you please get me their number."

"yes, thank you for asking."

other employees are watching in awe and fear

jason personally buys him lunch for a week

[cyanide-siren]

pfft, we're not a couple

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You, Dean and Sam attend a Supernatural convention by Becky's invitation and see people dressed up as characters from your life. One couple, approaching you, is dressed up as you and Dean. Of course, you're just friends - right?

☆☆

"What the hell's this place?" you mumbled, looking around the people dressed to look like demons, vampires, werewolves and other monsters. But along with supernatural creatures, some of them were dressed in the same kind of clothes like you and the Winchesters did.

It was a convention for Chuck's books. The books about your life hunting demons. This can't be fucking real.

"Sooo, do you like it?" Becky asked, appearing next to you out of nowhere. God, how much did that girl piss you off with that wide lipstick smile of hers and pitched voice.

"Yeah, i absolutely fucking love it," you replied sarcastically, voice threatening and angry which Becky took a notice of and turned from excited to awkward. You didn't even care to look at her way.

Chuck walked towards the four of you, taking cautious and nervous steps. He had wanted to keep this a secret from you but of course Becky had texted the Winchesters from Chuck's phone.

"Listen, guys –" Chuck started but couldn't get very far with his words.

"No, you listen to us, you piece of shit," Dean growled, towering over Chuck right in front of him. "It's bad enough to write books about our lives without permission, but holding some kind of event to dozens of people about it? That's even worse."

"I-i didn't mean this to happen, but..." Chuck stuttered, afraid of getting a fist on his face if he said one more wrong word.

"Save it, Chuck," Sam spat and rolled his eyes.

Chuck was going to say something more in his defense until a man arrived next to him and started talking about the process of publishing new books to the series and pulling Chuck away from you.

Un-fucking-believable.

Soon, a random man and woman, holding hands, approached the three of you but looking especially between you and Dean. Their eyes widened both in surprise and joy.

"Oh, honey! They decided to cosplay them too!" the woman exclaimed with wide eyes and even wider smile.

"Wow, you look just like them," the man gasped, looking at the two of you from head to toe.

The woman was wearing almost exactly the same outfit as you, which gave you the creeps. She was wearing a wig too with your hair color, pulled up in a ponytail like your hair.

"Can we take a picture together, please?" the woman asked, already pulling her camera from her purse. All you wanted to do was to yank her fake ponytail and slam her on the wall, but you didn't want to cause a scene.

"You know, Dean and Y/N is one of my favorite fictional couples," the woman eagerly told you. "They are so meant to be."

Your eyes grew wider and cheeks turned slightly pink, panic rising inside your chest.

"Oh, no no, we're not, i mean, they're not," you stuttered, not getting the words properly out of your mouth.

"Yeah, they're just friends," Dean finished your sentence, eyes as wide as yours.

"Are you kidding me?" the man exclaimed. "The chemistry, both romantic and sexual, between them is insane! There's thousands of fanfictions of them too written online."

"Fanfictions?" Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's like, one of the most popular pairings in the fandom!" the woman said. She quickly looked around her to see if anyone was listening to your conversation and then turned her voice a little lower, "I'm writing a fic series about them together too currently, i've been working on it for months."

"Uh-huh," you mumbled, not knowing what the hell to say to that. Not knowing what the fuck those words even meant.

"Do you want to hear what it's about? I can send you a link," she suggested, looking excited for sharing her passion with someone else. "I'll be posting the next chapter tomorrow and..."

"No thanks," you declined, just looking at her like she had completely lost her mind.

"Anyway, how about the picture?" the man asked and already gave the camera to Sam. "You can take it, right?"

Sam just looked at the camera in his hand with a baffled and confused expression on his face, but as he turned his gaze on you and Dean, an amused smile spread on his face. Both you and Dean looked uncomfortable and horrified about the situation.

The woman pulled you next to her by your elbow and the man pulled Dean to the picture as well, putting an arm around his shoulder. You and Dean exchanged glances with each other, wondering if you should punch both of them with a fist on their faces or just give in and get it over with.

This better not be posted anywhere on the internet.

The expressions on both you and Dean's face were almost identical: a mix of confused, dumbfounded, terrified and slightly embarrassed. Sam only smirked, finding you and Dean's sudden awkwardness around each other amusing.

"Smile," Sam smirked as he was getting the four of you to fit the camera's screen. The two strangers pushed you and Dean harder against each other's shoulder.

No, you would definitely not be smiling, unlike these two weirdos.

When the picture had been taken, Sam gave the camera back to the couple who were more than happy how good the picture had turned out to be.

"Thank you so much! Have a good day!" the woman said and pulled you into a tight hug. You hadn't expected a damn hug so you just stood there, being suffocated.

"I think i'll go get a drink," you decided once the couple was gone, wanting to step away from Dean for a second. You also were in need of something strong to get through with whatever the hell was going on here. Just barely 10 minutes in and you were already losing your mind.

Dean was left alone with Sam, both of them looking after you for a moment. Dean turned to look at Sam who was holding his laugh.

"We don't look like a couple," Dean scoffed, but when Sam was silent, Dean's face fell and he looked a little more serious. "Wait, do we?"

"Yes, Dean, you do look like a couple," Sam said. "Been waiting for you to realize it yourself."

"That's stupid, we just flirt occasionally but it doesn't mean anything," Dean said and rolled his eyes, trying to brush it off. "We're just friends."

"Mhm, whatever you say," Sam muttered, letting himself smile when his brother didn't see.

Just a few metres away from Dean and Sam, one guy with yellow contact lenses in his eyes approached a fake Dean, saying with a grin, "What's with the face? Did i kill your mommy?"

Dean gritted his teeth, knowing he'd break that man's nose and crack his teeth if he had said that to Dean's face. To the actual Dean.

"Yep, definitely need a drink," Dean muttered, growing even angrier than he already was after entering into this building.

After Dean had swallowed almost a full glass of whiskey down his throat, he saw a man, assumingly dressed as Dean as well, talking with you in the distance. You laughed at something he said to you, hiding your smile behind your hand. Your pretty smile that made Dean's chest and stomach feel funny whenever Dean saw your smile or heard you laugh.

What was so funny? Seeing another man make you laugh twisted something in Dean's chest.

"Dean, just tell her already," Sam said behind him, noticing Dean's tight grip on the glass, knuckles turning white.

"Tell her what?"

"That you like her," Sam specified.

"She's a friend, that's it," Dean insisted, tired of stating the obvious to his brother.

"Yeah? Well, i suppose it's fine then that she's probably going home tonight with a different man when this is over," Sam said.

Dean went into a slight panic after hearing those words.

"Home? What? With who?" Dean asked, looking back at you talking with the stranger. "What, that guy?"

"See, you like her."

"Well, she can do as she pleases," Dean said, shrugging his shoulders like he didn't care.

"When are you going to stop being so damn stubborn?" Sam asked, growing annoyed of his brother not admitting to his feelings. Sam wanted Dean to be happy, to let someone love him, but Dean's constant resistance was making him lose his mind.

"I'm not stubborn."

"Mhm."

Dean noticed another man trying to flirt with you. At least that was what it looked like. You didn't look exactly convinced or impressed by the fake Dean's words, whatever he was saying to you, but it didn't mean that Dean wouldn't get a sting in his heart for having to look at that.

"That's not her type, she's not going anywhere with him," Dean said.

"And you know what her type is?" Sam asked. He highly doubted that you talked about your taste in men with Dean. Or that he'd be willing to listen to your dating life.

"Well, i know it's not that guy," Dean insisted.

You were pretty, anyone with eyes could see that. You were funny too, your sense of humor matching Dean's perfectly. You were sweet and caring. Damn it, Dean could spend hours on explaining all the good things about you that made people like you.

Who wouldn't be attracted to you?

You were just a friend. His best friend. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with his best friend. That was forbidden, right? Don't fall in love with your best friend. So, of course he hadn't done that.

But every time you smiled at him, laughed at one of his jokes, he felt his heart skip a beat and butterflies swarm in his stomach.

Was that love? No. You were a friend, that's all.

☆☆

You were pinned against the wooden floor, the ghost a small child holding a large kitchen knife against your forehead, ready to peel half of your scalp off. How was this kid so strong? It was like trying to push a grown man away from you with no result.

Then, the child burst into flames and ash until was completely gone. Those sons of bitches really managed to burn the bones?

Dean rushed to you, grabbing your hand to pull you up. Even he had been pinned against the floor by another child, not able to fight back either.

"Are you okay?" he asked in panic, breathing heavily. He cupped your face with his warm hands to examine your face closer, looking at the wound on your forehead, which was only a small scratch and didn't bleed more than couple of drops. A simple band-aid would be enough.

"I'm fine," you assured him and had a teasing smile on your face. "But it's kind of cute you're worried about me."

Dean just rolled his eyes and wasn't in the mood of joking around, the tone of his voice complete opposite from yours. "Of course i'm worried about you, i always am."

You swallowed, becoming more serious too and were suddenly much more aware of the small gap between the two of you. You were afraid that he was actually going to kiss you, but you were interrupted by Sam running into the room, out of breath.

"Oh, thank god, you're okay, I –" Sam sighed, relieved, but then noticed how close you and Dean were standing. Dean quickly let go of you and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, we're just fine," Dean responded. "Let's go."

But before Dean would manage to walk out of the room, Sam quickly stepped outside and closed the door, trapping you and Dean inside alone.

"Sam? Open the door," Dean commanded, not able to get the door open as Sam was blocking it.

"Not until you talk things through between each other," Sam shouted through the door, loud enough for you to hear him too.

"Talk what through?" Dean asked, annoyed at his brother.

"You know what," Sam said, frustrated of you and Dean being both so stubborn.

Now that there was nobody else around you, the atmosphere was more awkward than it normally was and both of you waited that the other would break the silence.

"So, that was fun i guess," you said after trying to think what to say what felt like forever, but couldn't come up with anything useful.

"Yeah, super," Dean mumbled, looking down at his hands.

Truthfully, you did like Dean, more than just as a friend, but you had crossed out the option of having a romantic relationship with him a long time ago, knowing that he didn't do long-term relationships and you didn't do short flings. Especially with your best friend. What if you told him about your feelings and he didn't feel the same? You'd make things between the two of you way too awkward.

"So... i saw you chatting with some guy earlier," Dean said.

"Yeah? What about it?" you asked, furrowing your brows.

"Just, i don't know, looked like you had a good time," Dean stated, looking around the room to avoid eye contact with you. Immediately after he had said those words outloud, he regretted bringing it up.

"Well, i guess he was kind of funny," you said and shrugged, narrowing your eyes and then examining his behavior. You started slowly walking towards him, a smile on your lips. "Wait, does it bother you that another man made me laugh, hm?"

"No," Dean scoffed.

"Dean?" you said, stretching his name longer and raising your eyebrows. "Sounds a little like you might be jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Dean denied, finally looking into your eyes. You were suddenly incredibly close to him, just a small gap between the two of you. Dean swallowed, his heart beating faster as your gaze pierced all the way through his soul. God, you had pretty eyes. "I'm not."

"Mhm," you hummed, not convinced at all. "So, you're fine if i go talk to him instead of you?" You put your hands on his shoulders, gently grabbing the collar of his shirt and twiddling it in your hands. "You can be honest. You wouldn't mind, hm?"

"Of course i'd mind, Y/N," he answered, voice louder than you expected, making you flinch a little. However, it didn't take you more than a few seconds for you to start to giggle.

"Someone's jealooous," you teased, Dean's face not amused at all. "Just admit it that you want me aaaall to yourself."

"And what if i do, hm?" Dean asked. "Want you all to myself."

Now it was your turn to fall quiet for a second, smile fading from your face.

Right then, Dean grabbed your face and pulled you closer, pressing your lips against his. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it wasn't just a gentle peck. It was hard, needy and like he was afraid you'd float away from him. When he looked into your eyes, noses almost touching each other, he read the expression on your face, shocked and taken aback, like you hadn't liked the kiss. That he had finally fucked up everything between the two of you.

Dean was just about to step back when you put your hand on the back of his head, slamming your lips against his again and taking him into a proper kiss. Dean almost instantly rested his hands on your hips, pulling your body against him. When you opened your mouth slightly, he had the chance to push his tongue inside your mouth.

Your body was going crazy, butterflies swarming inside your stomach, chest feeling warm and heartbeat rising faster. His touch was everything you had missed and needed. Having him touch you and hold you was like puzzle pieces fitting together that had been missing their other half for their entire life.

At some point you had to pull away to catch your breath and locked eyes with each other.

"Is it too much asked for if i'd be the only guy to be able to do that to you?" Dean murmured.

"You want to do that again, hm?" you asked, biting your lip to hide your smile.

"Hell yeah i do," Dean chuckled and was already about to pull you into another kiss, when, Sam dared to open the door slightly to peek inside.

"Chuck is on his way over here," Sam informed. "Might want to continue that elsewhere so he doesn't add that to his next book."

You immediately let go of Dean and started walking towards the door.

"Absolutely nothing happened here," you stated, but Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you against him before you managed to step out of the room, back on his chest.

"Yeah? Well something might happen in the motel later, hm?" Dean murmured into your ear, quiet enough that Sam wouldn't hear you.

But he did, in fact, hear Dean's words.

"And i will book a different room for myself," Sam said, shaking his head but also happy that he you had finally admitted your feelings with Dean.

☆☆

[bbycake2]

I am literally in love with the way you write perv nerd Armin! If you have the time could you write something with him where the reader lowkey matches his freak?

Hi mootie! Thank you sm cutie mua mua im glad ♡ I tried my best in this one for you, hope the stepsibling trope isnt something you dont like

Stepsibling, mention of pregnancy

Thinking about stepbrother!nerdyArmin…

Your mom married a new man and when you saw his son you felt your pussy move.. literally. All nerdy, cute dude who is in his room all the time. Playing games? Reading manga? God knows what hes doing there… And you want to know too.

You just wanted to tease him, just a little bit. He always gets so flustered, red cheeks when you brush your naked leg against his jeans when youre just trying to sit down next to him, oh accidentally you fell down on his lap. How silly of you? His long skinny fingers squeezing your thighs, when youre moving your hips on his leg, moving, jumping on it like a little puppy, so cute! His foggy glasses are slipping off his nose — youre a loving sister so you will gladly help him Just like he helps you with math — making circles on your clit and reading out the problems you have to solve, or else he will stop. “No please just dont, I dont want to be empty again put it in please” you whined when he pulled his fingers out :( so needy and annoying, “Just solve the fucking thing idiot” he gave your cunny a hard slap, hurts so much, made you cry a little. You never understood math so youre basically helpless, making him mad because of how stupid girl you are. He put them again, yay! His long fingers are enough to reach all the places you need, making you moan as you grab his shirt with cute logo on it.

Sometimes you sneak into his shower just to help! - He looks so cute, with wet hair and flushed skin, He never protests, he’s always happy to spend time with you. This is how you should welcome a new family member, isn’t it? He is so cute, stroking your cheeks and looking at you so lovingly, you just want to baby him forever.

It all started because of him, didn’t it? When you caught him pleasuring himself with your bra. You couldnt stop yourself — you just had to help him. “What a pervert” You laughed as you looked at him watching him desperately try to cover himself and somehow explain the situation. “Im so so sorry, it just happened. I dont know what to say” He was so embarrassed, you thought he might explode. You blink. suddenly aware of your situation — the papers scattered, the soft desk lamp casting a golden glow across the room. His eyes are on you, wide open filled with lust. Youre lying back on his desk, legs in the air, as he eats your pussy like a starved dog, The scent of sweat and desperation hung in the air In the stillness of the room the sounds of wet tongue and moans filled the air, hes so desperate, I bet he never saw a pussy before, not to mention eating it.. Hes probably doing it for his own pleasure, completely forgetting about you. He lifted his head leaving your pussy hurt from the overstimulation, his face full of your nasty juices. He looked down at his erection He couldnt hold back anymore; he had to do it. He spread your cute pussy lips with his two fingers and put the tip inside, making you bite your lip. Wait? Where is the condom? “Armin what is wrong with you?” You shouted at him Trying to push him away, pregnancy was the last thing you wanted. “Shut the fuck up whore, be glad I even want to fuck this slutty pussy of yours” He said it sarcastically, but so harshly that your heart hurt a little. He moved his hips a few times, you squeezed him so good, he just couldn’t think straight, it was almost like you sucked out all of his ability to think logically. His one hand was gripping your throat so tightly you thought you will faint, What if your mom walks in? Sees what kind of slut she raised? Just the thought embarrassed you so much you wanted to stop. “Arm- Armin please just don’t cum inside” You cried

But the reality was different — your mom and his dad were so happy that their kids got along so well. You always joked and smiled together - Just like perfect siblings.

[avsarchivez]

FRIENDS

se mi x fem!reader

SUMMARY: best friends can fuck too!

WARNINGS: friends w benefits ig, smut, oral (reader receiving), fingering, wlw

WORD COUNT: 614

a/n: this is so simple and kinda ass i hate it sm but i needed to write smth… also im trying to get to requests but ive got nothing 😵

the clock reads 1:21 a.m. se mi’s sprawled on your bed, scrolling through reels, ignoring the cheesy rom-com on tv.

your head hits the pillow with a sigh. “i’m so fucking bored.”

she hums, eyes glued to her phone.

you’ve two have been friends since “thanos” introduced you to his crew a couple months ago.

you’ve had a crush on her from the start. her piercings, short dark hair and those eyes, gosh, those eyes, left your cunt throbbing.

“wanna make out?” you joke, but you mean it.

she gives you a lazy smirk, “sure.”

your heart stumbles. you lean in, lips brushing hers softly before you pull back, cheeks flaming. she notices, laughing.

“what’s so funny?” you snap, embarrassed.

“what the fuck was that?”she teases. you look away, nerves buzzing.

you’re cocky, but girls like her? you’re out of your depth.

“nervous, baby?” her voice is low, confident, making you swallow hard.

“c’mere.” her hand cups your neck, pulling you into a slow kiss. her chapped lips are rough, her tongue careful at first, then hungry, battling yours.

she pushes you back, climbing on top, arms caging you in as her lips trail to your jaw, drawing a gasp from your lips.

her hands slip under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin. she tugs your shirt off, bra following, discarded somewhere on your floor.

her mouth moves lower, past your navel, eyes locked on yours.

you’re nervous. she kisses your stomach. “don’t be scared, love.”

“i’m not,” you whisper, voice shaky.

she chuckles. “sure… where’s that slut i know?” you laugh, relaxing a bit.

you nod, and she slides your shorts down, then your panties.

she parts your plush thighs, settling between them. her finger traces your slick folds, followed by her tongue, teasing your clit. then she sucks, and you moan, the sound pure heaven to her.

she’s a pro, devouring you like she’s starved. her moan vibrates against you, and it’s unreal. she slides one finger inside, then two, then three, pumping fast.

“holy shit,” you gasp.

“that good, baby?” she mumbles, face buried.

“yes, oh my god, yes.” you’re embarrassed by how much you love it.

the knot in your stomach tightens. “cum for me, beautiful,” she says, and you do, unraveling over her face and fingers. “shit—” you start, but she shoves her fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself.

she kisses you quick, then flops back, grabbing her phone like nothing happened.

you’re still coming down, your heart racing.

she glances at you, smirking softly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you mutter, cheeks burning, tugging the blanket up. she laughs under her breath and reaches over to mess up your hair, “we’re cool right?” she asks.

“yeah we’re cool.” are you really just cool though?

@avsarchivez

[horny-marbles]

do you have any thoughts about sweet moments with brian? i feel like without hoodie or any of the slenderman stuff, he would be a really good boyfriend and really sweet. i think he would be very protective too! i love your writing so much btw!!! :)

OHHHHH MY GOD do i have thoughts... i fucking LOVEEE the idea of him outside the slenderverse, or at least in the moments where he's not being eaten alive from the inside by the operator lol.

i feel like mornings are the sweetest with brian. he stirs awake with this look of pure confusion on his face, all bleary eyed and scrungly with sleep, and he blindly reaches for you in bed before he's even fully conscious yet, completely instinctual. as soon as his hand finds you, that crease between his brows relaxes and he smiles all tired and sweet, curling around you with this croaky, sighed "mornin' baby" like you're his cup of coffee for the day. he'll always refuse to kiss you before brushing the morning breath off his tongue, but he'll bury his face between your shoulder blades and press his mouth to your spine and nape while you're both croaking your plans for the day.

driving around aimlessly is one of his favorites, despite complaining about gas prices constantly lol (i mean, fair). shitty engine humming over his off-key singing—always exaggerating his little southern lilt for shits and gigs—and the occasional whiff of manure through the open windows, to which he inevitably gets this shit eating grin before going "baby, ew, what did'ya have for lunch, huh?" and laughing when you smack his arm like it's so fun being in love with you. also, whenever you get to a red light, he grabs your pinky and guides your hand up to kiss your knuckles like second nature.

late-night movie cuddles with heavy commentary is routine. brian always insists on watching "the classics" like the godfather or pulp fiction and ends up talking over more than half of it every single time, without fail. and when you fall asleep on his chest mid-movie, he just accepts his fate to sleep in that position for the night, running his hand up and down your arm while whispering stupid shit like "bet the director was high as shit when he made this" into the crown of your head like you're still part of the conversation.

oh and him making you short films is a given. you could be doing anything—brushing your teeth, online shopping, sleeping in—and he'll turn it into a cheesy little mockumentary, pretentiously narrating it like, "here we can see the rare specimen known as my sweetheart, in its natural habitat, refusing to wake up before noon. ain't nature beautiful?"

and you're so right, he would be super protective in his own quiet ways. always the "you okay?" guy, always—he notices everything, every quiet "I'm fine", every shift in your usual demeanor. he never pushes you to talk, but his voice would go soft and low when he says "hey, talk to me, what's wrong?"

he always has an eye out for your surroundings. not in any obvious way, but always looking out for you. shifting to the side closest to the road or a crowd when walking together, hanging near you at gatherings or unfamiliar places—not clinging or hovering, but you always feel like there's this protective wall at your back. always offering to walk you to your car, home, anywhere, like it's just obvious.

and he's never the type to make a scene when someone's making you uncomfortble, he doesn't square up. but he doesn't talk about it either, he just handles it, quietly. you never hear what happened, they just don't bother you again.

[hollandorks]

oh my god I love a chapter breakdown like this

you terrify me is one of my top favorie lines from this too ngl and also "I started doing situps" LOL

the common sense with these characters is not high tbh like neither of these two main characters has much sense which is I guess why it works

I will say I'm so fucking excited for the big reveal chapter. I wrote it like a million years ago and reread it yesterday and I probably won't change much. It's gonna be FUN

gotta look back at the heartbreak words becaaaaause I personally don't remember them OOP but I also wrote the "three years ago" chapter a million years ago so IT'S FINE. I love hearing that you had such a strong reaction to it and I apologize in advance for when we get the full story in a few chapters

she is chiller than me too even though I looooove making them argue like I actually want to go back and add so much more arguing LOL

SO MUCH GROVELLING TO COME in the normal way and the *cough* fun way if you catch my drift but also please remind me of that promise because if I go for a year without updating again who knows what I'll remember

I do want her to slap someone's teeth out and sometimes I want it to be Bruce's but I'll settle for anyone. We'll see what she does as I continue to write, I swear she has a mind of her own

NEXT CHAPTER IS WRITTEN MOSTLY BESTIE! Should be within a week or two (I have a crazy couple of weeks coming up but sometimes that motivates me to write because I love procrastinating real life)

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter sixteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: listen I don't wanna talk about the fact that it's been a year since I updated this. And hilariously the last chapter was me being like "maybe I'll keep updating regularly!" IN MY DEFENSE there's not really a defense. But most of the last year has been me working on getting Middle of the Night ready to publish this year (eee!!) Anyways here's a delicious Bruce POV chapter (that's right, not an interlude) for you! And bonus, I have the next chapter written already! Hopefully I can keep the momentum going but as you know well by now...there's no telling what the update schedule will be. Enjoy! Mwah!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.4k

“I’m so sorry–” he said, the words choked. “I’m so sorry. They have my sister.” 

That’s when she saw the glint of a needle in his hand.

Bruce’s POV

The moment y/n disappeared inside the lobby of Wayne Tower, Bruce made a decision. 

His lips still ached with the memory of hers, his entire body buzzing with a type of adrenaline he’d never experienced before, and he knew what he had to do. 

He had to tell her the truth. All of it. Every gory detail. He had to tell her about Batman, and the Riddler, and the truth of their argument three years ago when he had all but destroyed her. 

He couldn’t let her kiss him like that and not know the truth. It wasn’t fair to her. None of it was fair to her, not really, but she had an image of him in her head that was blatantly untrue and he couldn’t stand the deception any longer. Alfred was right–which Bruce had known, but now it was finally sinking in. 

She would be angry. That much he knew. He knew her almost better than he knew himself, despite the three year separation. She would be angry first by the deception. Then at herself for not being able to figure it out. Then she would be angry, possibly even betrayed, by the fact that he had broken her heart on purpose three years earlier. 

She would be angry, and she would yell, and she might even cry, but he hoped she would forgive him quickly. 

And then maybe, maybe, they could finally put everything behind them. Bruce wanted, more than anything, to simply be her friend again. The rest could come later. 

The way to the entrance tunnel was long, about as far out of the way from Wayne Tower as it could be. Bruce sped through the dark city streets like he was being pursued. The quicker he could catch her, the quicker he could tell her, the quicker he could kiss her again. 

He mentally shook himself. 

No, the quicker they could at the very least get back to being friends. He didn't want to assume that telling her the truth about his feelings meant she would immediately fall into his arms. They had a lot to work out first. 

He knew it wouldn't be that simple once his secrets were out in the open. Both secrets–the fact that he was Batman and the fact that he had broken her heart on purpose three years before, every word out of his mouth designed to effectively push her away. To hurt her. That secret would be much harder to admit to. That one would hurt her the most. 

But he knew her. He knew her. She would be angry, yes, but she would forgive him. Because, despite her prickly exterior and her adeptness at deflecting with humor, she had a big heart and she loved fiercely. 

Bruce barely stopped once he was inside the Wayne Terminus station, only long enough to park the motorcycle and take off his helmet. He tossed the mask onto a table and left the rest of the suit on as he strode towards the elevator. 

If he focused too much on what he was about to do he would chicken out. All he had to do was tell her the truth in the simplest terms possible. The suit would do that part for him, really. Y/n would look at him and know the first of his deepest secrets. 

The second he would have to lay bare for her despite his instincts telling him it would hurt too much. He had to tell her the truth, every bit of it, like lancing an infected wound to drain out the poison. 

His booted foot tapped nervously as the elevator rose slowly, slowly up to the penthouse. Usually the armor brought him to stillness, like he was settling into his bones in the way that he was meant to. But now, helmet off, ready to reveal his secrets to the woman he had loved for half his life, he was an uncomfortable mix of both Bruce Wayne and the Batman. It was like his body wasn't sure how to act with the usually sharply defined lines so blurred. 

The elevator opened and Bruce's pulse leapt. 

This was it. 

The moment of truth, in more ways than one. 

He didn't see her in any of the shared spaces of the kitchen, library, or foyer so he aimed for her room. 

Empty. 

The covers on her bed were tangled into a knot, papers strewn over half the sheets. Her laptop lay closed on top of it all, the only bare space indicating where she slept. Her bathroom door was wide open so he could see at a glance that it, too, was empty. 

Bruce frowned. 

Maybe she was in her grandmother's room? Personally,  he hated even passing his parents' room but y/n had indicated that she was sorting through Dory's things. 

That, too, was empty. 

Bruce's heart started to pound before he could even really parse why. He'd seen her go into the lobby, into the elevator with their night security guard. Ben? No, Blake, that was his name. Maybe she'd finally figured it out, then, after their kiss. Maybe she was waiting in his room to confront him. 

Bruce rushed down the hallway, almost knocking over Alfred as he emerged from the study. 

"Wh–Bruce?" 

Bruce didn't pause. He burst through his bedroom door out of breath like he'd run the whole way home. Alfred followed behind him, calling his name again as he went. 

Empty. 

Bruce spun, cape whirling around him, the panic finally taking root within him, suffocating him. 

"Alfred, where is she?" he demanded, already shoving back out into the hallway. "Where's y/n?" 

"Bruce, what on earth is going on? Where's your mask?" Alfred was hot on his heels as he flew down the hallway to the foyer. 

The elevator was stopped on the third floor. 

The third floor had access to the parking garage. 

Bruce couldn't breathe. 

There was no reason, at this time of night, that the elevator should be stopped on the third floor. 

"Alfred, I dropped y/n off and she got on the elevator nearly fifteen minutes ago. Where is she?" He turned in a tight circle, half expecting her to pop out with a cup of coffee in one hand and a smartass comment ready to tear him a new one. 

Alfred blinked slowly. Bruce saw the realization hit him and sucked in a sharp breath of anguish before Alfred even spoke. "I was in the study the whole time. The elevator never arrived." 

They both burst into action without another word. 

Alfred grabbed his arm to stop him, to make him think through the panic they were both now feeling. "Bruce. Your mask. I'll go downstairs and make inquiries. Meet me down there. I'm sure she's okay. Her cop friend, Martinez, usually works nights." 

But something was wrong. Bruce could feel it, like the charge in the air right before a storm, a pit in his gut that grew with each passing second. He was sure Alfred could sense it too. They locked eyes for a split second and Bruce cursed. Alfred was right. He either needed to go downstairs as Bruce or as Batman, not both. 

And Batman was the only one who could do what needed to be done. 

Bruce took off for the other elevator this time, the one that would take him to the station where his mask was, fully running this time. It was if he was running through syrup, the air thick around him, making him more slow than usual. Like he was trapped in a nightmare. His footsteps thundered across the empty penthouse with a series of echoing booms like his heartbeat played on surround sound. 

His brain kept a constant loop, panic settling into his very bones. 

Where is she where is she where is she where is she where is she 

Twenty minutes. That was about how long it had been since he'd watched her enter that elevator. And with each passing second, her chances of survival grew lower and lower. The Gallos knew who she was. Knew where she lived. And somehow, they'd gotten to her within Wayne Tower. 

It was his fault. All his fault. 

If she had known the truth about Batman, he could have taken her in through the secret tunnels on the back of his motorcycle, like the old days when he was still just Bruce and the station was just a garage full of fun toys and experiments on car engines. There would have been no need for all of the covert machinations to get her into and out of the tower. Instead of disguising herself to get Gordon and meet him on the signal tower, she could have simply gone downstairs. But she didn't know the truth, and it had lured her out of the tower, away from safety. He had lured her away from safety. And in the breach, they had gotten to her. 

And if he had only figured out how someone had gotten in to put that photo in the elevator…none of this would have mattered. Despite the hours spent digging through security cameras and personnel files, he couldn't figure it out. Another failing to add to the list. 

Even amidst the gunfire that night, he had never been so afraid for her. In that situation at least he knew where she was. At least he had been there to save her. Now she was gone, and whoever had her had a twenty minute headstart. Bruce thought he might be sick. The thought that he might already be too late sent bile up his throat. He swallowed hard. 

No, he couldn't think like that. She was smart. She could survive. She would survive, and he would find her. 

He would tear the city apart brick by brick to find her. 

Another thought sobered him as he stepped back into Wayne Tower. 

He would kill for her. 

The thought may have frightened him before, the idea of so easily tossing aside his moral compass. 

But for y/n he would do it without a second thought. 

The realization made his spine straighten as he rode the main elevator down to the lobby. He would stop at nothing–absolutely nothing–to save y/n. 

And then he would make the Gallo family pay. 

When the doors downstairs opened, the lobby was chaos. There were cops everywhere. Gordon was on the phone, right as Bruce felt a vibration from one of the pockets in his belt. Alfred was gesticulating wildly. Martinez burst inside the front doors and shook his head at Gordon. 

No one noticed Bruce come off of the elevator until he stood right next to Gordon. 

"That was fast," Gordon said when he noticed him, hanging up the phone. 

"Saw the commotion," Bruce said, the words a growl, his jaw so tight with tension it threatened to snap. 

"Y/n's missing–and so is the night guard, Blake. No one saw them leave." Gordon pointed at Martinez and opened his mouth to speak again, but Bruce was striding back towards the elevator. 

He pressed the button for the third floor, where the elevator had been paused before Alfred came downstairs. Right before the doors closed, Gordon, Alfred, Martinez, and a female detective all piled inside with him. Bruce stepped back to make room and his boot crunched on something. 

He bent to pick it up, everyone scrambling to make room for him. 

A syringe. 

Bile burned its way up his throat again. 

"Shit," Gordon said. 

Martinez peered around him. "Oh no." 

Alfred met Bruce's gaze and neither of them had to say a word. The syringe in Bruce's hand began to shake. He clenched his fist tightly to stop it. 

The doors opened to the third floor. The exit to the parking garage was right next to it. 

They didn't even have to search. Blake huddled on the floor against the door, his teeth chattering audibly. He looked up when the group surrounded him. His eyes sought Alfred first, the face most familiar to him, then Gordon and finally to Bruce. 

He gulped and all of the blood drained from his face at the sight of the Batman before him. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. They have my sister. They told me to grab her and bring her here. I'm sorry." The last apology was a broken sob. 

Bruce had no patience for it. 

He dragged the boy up by the scruff of his neck and slammed him into the concrete wall with single minded focus. He ignored the commotion around him, the hands grabbing at his forearm to drag him away. He was immovable as the concrete surrounding him. 

The boy before him choked, more from fear than any pressure actually on his windpipe. Bruce was angry and panicked, but he had never been more clear headed. He wouldn't kill the boy, not when the Gallos had so expertly intimidated him.

But that did not mean Bruce had to be gentle. 

"Where did they take her?" He sounded more animal than man, his voice low and deadly. 

"I don't know, I don't know!" The words were a panicked shriek. "They just gave me the drugs said to bring her in here! They threw her in the trunk!" 

Bruce shook him a little. The boy was crying. In any other situation, Bruce might have felt bad. But all he had space for now was y/n, saving her, getting her back in one piece. "What kind of car?" The boy's nails scrabbled uselessly at Bruce's forearm, his eyes darting around wildly for help. 

"A gray Honda, an old one, they faked an employee sticker. They had me cut all the security cameras I have access too. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. They told me they'd kill my sister!" At least he was giving up all the information Bruce needed. 

But it wasn't enough.

Bruce snarled wordlessly and knocked the boy out with one punch. It didn't lessen the pressure in his veins. He needed to hit something. Needed to feel flesh and bone give way under his fists. Needed to let the anger out until y/n was safe in his arms. 

"What the hell, man?!" Gordon demanded as he scrambled for the now-unconscious boy. Bruce barely spared Alfred a glance but knew the man wasn't protesting his methods like everyone else. Gordon continued, voice angry, "We need more information from him! We need to see about rescuing his sister too, dammit!" 

"I'll start to go over the footage and see if we can get a license plate," Alfred said. 

"The kid might have had that!" Gordon was furious, his hand resting on his gun. 

All Bruce said was, "Put out a BOLO." And then he was gone into the night.

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[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[joejhang]

fanon neil vs canon neil

god i am so FUCKING done with the aftg fandom mischaracterising neil i'm literally writing fucking ESSAYS about it and pacing circles muttering about it under my breath it's driving me up the goddamn wall so i am going to word vomit brain dump yap about all of it in an incoherent tumblr text post. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk

i've said it before and i'll say it again I HATE FANON NEIL. istg this fandom LOVES to mischaracterise neil and ykw i think i know why. they take the smallest most unnoticeable parts of his personality and then exaggerate them to disproportionate and unrealistic levels in order for him to fit their idea of a conventional, stereotypical and desirable main character. they smooth out his jagged edges and prick at his "insecurities" to make him more likeable, more acceptable and more conventional of a narrator/main character and in doing so erase so fucking much of his personality and draw as a character that he loses just about all of the flavour that made me love him in canon. and also especially within the andreil dynamic this fucking fandom just loves to tweak neil's character until he's basically unrecognisable just so they can cram andreil into some preconceived socially acceptable clichéd ship dynamic. because andrew is perceived as the typical mysterious, moody and grumpy love interest therefore neil just has to be the sunshiney smiley blushing cute softboy in exchange. yeah because all gay ships have to be grumpy-sunshine and black cat-golden retriever dynamic. i raise you: andreil's dynamic doesn't work because of their differences it works because of their similarities. if u think about it andrew and neil are honestly very similar people in the way they think and process emotions and events and that's what allows them to connect and understand each other. andreil would not work if neil was super sunshiney and a blushy soft mess and andrew was the stoic, never smiling, unemotional stone of a guy the fandom loves to make them. just accept they do not fit into the conventional boxes laid out by booktok for what gay ships look like. i fucking digress.

neil is also just insanely mischaracterised on his own. people love making him very jittery and insanely oblivious and easily flustered with a generous serving of self-esteem issues. i hate to break it to you guys: neil josten is not insecure. i don't think there's a single instant in the series where neil is actually insecure about anything. as a narrator, person and character, neil is very realistic, pragmatic and logical. ruthlessly so. i'd say on this, neil is even more cerebral and unemotional than andrew is. neil is very straightforward and realistic abt himself in his narration and i'd honestly say his opinion and views about himself are one of the only things in the story that isn't affected by his narrator bias. if neil is anything, it's self-aware. i'm now going to present all my fucking evidence.

neil doesn't have a sexuality crisis. literally in the entire series never once does he even question his fucking sexuality. it's implied he's already figured out he's aspec/demisexual from the moment nicky questions him about his sexuality. neil says "i don't swing" and follows up in his narration: it wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough. and later when he starts his relationship with andrew he doesn't ever question the nature of his feelings towards andrew or even anyone else and is pretty clear about it when andrew breaches the topic: "kissing you doesn't make me look at them any differently" so yeah neil is pretty certain and aware of his sexuality.

neil isn't insecure about his appearance. i feel like this is gonna require a bit of work to explain but hear me out. it is mentioned several times that neil has a complicated relationship with his appearance because he looks so much like his father/abuser. this is obviously understandable; you wouldn't want to look into the mirror and see the man who gave u all ur scars. that being said, neil doesn't have a lot of strong emotions regarding his appearance. most of his feelings of panic tied to when r*ko dyed back his hair is because of how it would be a lot easier for his father to discover him now that he has his original colouring back. i'm also pretty sure neil knows that he's cute. like it's never explicitly stated but i've reread aftg maybe fifty times and trust me i can read between the lines. neil explicitly says that he has a "love-hate relationship with his reflection out of necessity" and while the "hate" part of that statement is obvious: he doesn't like that he resembles his father, i've sort of just accepted that the "love" part of it is that he knows he's kinda fine. it's not brought up by him at all bc neil as a person is not one to linger on people's appearances almost at all. i think the only people to get a decent amount of lines dedicated to their appearance in the narration are allison and andrew. but yeah i genuinely don't think neil thinks he's ugly or unattractive and he's probably definitely been told how cute he is by others enough that he doesn't harbour any delusions about how he looks. regarding his scars, he never expresses any insecurity towards them and how they look, he just doesn't like them on display understandably bc of how acutely they point to his past and childhood that he's trying to hide.

neil is actually very very confident in his own and other people's abilties. this is esp regarding exy. he knows he's good at the game. like he knows. the most distinct example i can think of for this point is when kevin tells neil that he was at castle evermore to try out for the perfect court when they were younger. neil doesn't even doubt for a fucking second that he would've made it onto the perfect court. never does. he skips over the second-guessing and doubt part and just straight up starts daydreaming about the future he could've had playing with kevin and r*ko. like that really got me bc it's easy to assume neil would be super unassuming and have low self-esteem but no like neil doesn't doubt for a fucking second that he deserves to be perfect court. it's just that he doesn't believe in r*ko's delusions enough to play along with it by the time he gets the tattoo. he's also insanely confident about the foxes and their abilities and also kevin by the end of the series. at the beginning he takes a pretty realistic vantage point and says that with the way things are, the foxes will never beat the ravens. but even with that pov he still has the gall to challenge r*ko on LIVE TV and i doubt he's lying when he declares so boldly to everyone that if the foxes were united they'd be an unstoppable force (and guess what he was fucking RIGHT). and by the end, when the foxes are united, he has no more room left for doubt at all. some guy tells neil to kick the ravens' asses and neil just replies with zero hesitation "that's the plan". like he's so fucking on board with it. and he never once doubts that kevin is the best striker in the game. like literally never. at first he considers r*ko and kevin on par with each other (possibly, it's never stated outright) but by the end he literally has no doubts when he says "kevin is the best striker" like goddamn the amount of confidence neil has is so underrated.

neil is a very unemotional narrator. it actually gets me all the time how logical and ruthlessly pragmatic neil's narration and inner monologue is. some of the only strong emotions portrayed in neil's narration are anger, irritation and occasionally grief, which is only ever triggered by major trauma-inducing events (e.g. dr*ke). almost all of his inner monologue is analytical and observing others and dissecting either other people or the situation he's in. and almost all of his decisions and actions are made based on impulse and instinct. neil is a very instinctive person. this is outright stated in the way he plays exy; in theory, he can't give u a lot, but in the heat of the moment he's at his best. this applies to practically all facets of neil's life. he never plans his moves or what he's gonna say (except like that one time when he planned out what half-truth he was gonna tell andrew post-columbia). he's super quick and on the ball and literally does whatever the fuck he wants at any given moment. he's also insanely good at compartmentalising. like it's difficult to explain but while his priorities are obv hilariously skewed, they're also very clear in his mind. things he considers unimportant he simply just doesn't think about. what others look like and what they think of him don't factor into his internal monologue or his thoughts at all he literally just files them away in the back of his mind until they do end up becoming useful or important to him. he barely comments on andrew's appearance at all until andrew becomes someone worth staring at and admiring for him. the only reason he describes allison and renee in the detail that he does is because it's important in understanding how and why he reacts to them the way he does. this man was literally about to lose his goddamn mind at the fall banquet but he specifically reserved his mental breakdown for after the banquet so he could spend his time roasting the fuck out of r*ko. bro fully locked in and was like "clock riko now break down later" and i respect it.

neil doesn't actually have a martyr complex. it's funny because almost all of aftg is him being the absolute fucking opposite of a martyr. he wilfully sticks around the foxes knowing he's putting himself and them in danger. he doesn't "sacrifice" himself until he's absolutely forced to by his father's people. by then, he's already told himself he can't and won't run and he's smart enough to know he'll never get away anyway. and going to evermore wasn't about self-sacrifice or martyrdom it was about protecting andrew and those two are pretty fucking different. he knew he was coming back from evermore and he knew that he wouldn't die there, despite all the shit he went through, so i don't think that can be counted as "self-sacrifice". he was doing what he had to do to protect andrew, the same as andrew would've done for neil or aaron or kevin or anyone else he'd sworn to protect. the kidnapping in baltimore was the culmination of neil's character arc, which isn't really about learning to be selfless and self-sacrificing, it's about learning to stand his ground and stop running. those things r crucially different: neil not running in baltimore wasn't about selflessness, it was about courage. yes, part of it was obviously inspired by the foxes and motivated by not wanting them to be hurt but i truly believe it ultimately was about neil learning to stand his own ground and make his own home and have it be something he's willing to die for. call it whatever u want honestly i just don't think neil is as much of a martyr/sacrificial lamb as the fandom makes him out to be.

[antigonesghosts]

What I loved about Cinderella's Castle is it is so entirely about Ella. We know starkid can handle a show with tons and tons of characters but I found it quite refreshing for it to be so wholly her story? I think it was a lovely choice for this show and man Bryce did such a perfect job of it, she is truly such a star

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Killua and the Power of Wishes

Okay going to try and make this coherent because the amount of wish association all through Killua's character development makes me want to chew plaster.

As a fair warning, this analysis ended up being long as hell, and I didn't even include everything I could've said. This is also just one lens to analyze Killua's story arc with, and I feel there are other valid interpretations of some of these moments. This is just one of mine, so keep that in mind please.

One last warning that this analysis does discuss emotional manipulation and abuse, as is par for Killua's background.

Let's set the stage with one important piece of info: Killua's birthday.

Killua's birthday is July 7th, the same day as Tanabata. Tanabata is a folklore-rich festival where according to legend, the two lovers, weaver Orihime and cowherd Hikoboshi, represented by the two stars, Vega and Altair, are allowed to reunite once a year after separation. A popular custom of Tanabata is to make wishes by writing them down on tanzaku, then hang it on a bamboo tree so that the wish might one day come true.

Tanabata is also known as the Star Festival. Please keep this in mind, because I'm going to come back to it.

To finish setting up the lens for this analysis, I'm going to need to dig into the game-changer scene for Killua's early characterization - his confrontation with Illumi at the end of the Hunter Exam, and specifically, the exact nature of Illumi's manipulation of him.

I say "game-changer" because it really is - up until this point, it's kind of fair to not fully know what to think about Killua. Certainly, he seems excited to hang out with Gon (he approached him first, after all) and he's friendly enough, but he's also arrogant and claims to be motivated mainly by boredom. For all intents and purposes, Killua seems set up to be Gon's dangerous yet charismatic rival... but then this scene happens and it completely turns it all on its head.

Because Killua may have mentioned his family was controlling before, but he seriously downplayed the severity of it - likely because he has no point of reference for how awful his situation actually is other than it makes him feel bad and trapped. Illumi's appearance immediately shifts our understanding of Killua from runaway murder kid with annoying murder family to straight-up victim of emotional abuse, and dissolves his cockiness instantly to terror.

What does all this have to do with wishes? Glad you asked. Let's look at some of Illumi's dialogue.

[ID: A screenshot from HxH episode 20 of the 2011 anime. Killua looks up, sweating and conflicted, as Illumi tells him "You don't want anything or wish for anything." End ID.]

This is the crux of Illumi's (and the family's) control. Killua's desires do not align with the family trade. They must be excised from him.

When Killua insists that he does have something that he really wants, Illumi says "Tell me what it is you want", in a mockery of a certain other sibling who would have helped fulfill this wish - Illumi asks only so he can completely dismantle it. And Killua isn't even really surprised at Illumi's words, just heartbroken. You can tell this isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened.

Killua states his wish quite fervently; he really means it. But his words are not rebellious, nor cathartic. Instead, he answers Illumi quietly, as if fearful or ashamed, almost reminiscent of a sinner's confession.

[ID: Two screenshots from HxH episode 20 of the 2011 anime. In the first Killua looks down with a troubled expression, saying "I want to become friends with Gon...". In the second, his face is hidden as he stands with hands clenched at his sides with a spotlight on him. He says "I'm sick of killing people..." End ID.]

It's such an innocent, simple want.

And Illumi proceeds to make him feel like even something so simple is harmful and selfish of him... not to the family, but to Gon.

In a matter of a few minutes, Illumi breaks down Killua's wish by:

Acknowledging this desire, but twisting it into something that will inevitably fade over time, thereby causing Killua to doubt his own conviction and feelings -> "Gon is a novelty, a radiant presence who has piqued your curiosity. No more than that."

Acknowledging that Gon is someone important to Killua, and undermining this by telling him that by his very nature, he will eventually bring harm to Gon, which makes him feel as though Killua cannot trust himself to be a good friend -> "If you try to be friends with him, you will one day want to kill him... because you are, by nature, a murderer." (As a... delightful... bonus, this is also apparently how Silva and Illumi justify their treatment of Killua to him - "This is the essence of your existence and we taught you accordingly." Like they adapted to Killua's nature, instead of them molding Killua into who they wanted him to be.)

Delivering an ultimatum - to fight Illumi and win, or else Gon will die - that Killua is doomed to fail due to his upbringing and the needle in his head. Since Killua doesn't know about the needle, he assumes this is his own personal failure, something Illumi feeds into -> "You're just not qualified to make friends."

And it's the last point that breaks him. The first two shoot down Killua's present wish, but the last proceeds to shatter any hope he might've had of wishing for anything similar in the future - he has told him that his desires are weak, temporary, inherently dangerous to those around him, and worst of all, aren't enough on their own for him to deserve friendship and love from others. And the clincher: Killua feels like all of this is his own fault, that there is something inherently dangerous and wrong with him!

So, it doesn't even matter to Killua anymore if he fails the Hunter Exam. To him, he just failed the only test that mattered.

10/10 manipulation, Illumi. Fuck you, seriously.

Killua's character arc is mainly his quest and struggle to refute Illumi's arguments and to shake off the manipulation and the ways in which his family have molded and controlled him. And by far, the most difficult part of his conditioning to shake off is this idea that he is undeserving of anything more than what he is already given.

It's almost like the family has drilled it into him that wishes are dangerous. How interesting.

Thankfully, however, there are two parties to Killua's wish here - Gon, too, is a part of it, and it is not simply his reciprocated desire to be Killua's friend that saves him, but also his recognition of Killua's situation for what it is (notably, when no one else correctly identified the true issue).

"You know it wasn't his choice. You manipulated him, kidnapping his spirit!"

The ensuing Zoldyck family arc emphasizes that Gon is 100% correct: the main hold Killua's family has on him isn't physical - it's all emotional.

Killua breaks one of his shackles when Milluki threatens to have his new friends killed, but he only breaks the rest when Zeno tells him he's free to go. So, if Killua could break loose at any point, was this still a rescue like Gon said?

Well, yes - just because he absolutely could've broken out physically at any time, that does not mean he could just leave. That's the nature of situations such as this - it's not as simple as "just leaving". Support is necessary, as is actually having something tangible outside the situation to go to - otherwise there is little point to leaving at all. Gon (and Kurapika and Leorio) showing up to free Killua showed him that his wish was reciprocated and allowed him to break one cuff - this is the start of his journey, but he still has a long ways to go. Notably, he again hesitates and closes off when Silva asks what he wants.

[ID: Three panels from HxH chapter 42. In the first, Silva asks Killua "...would you like to see [Gon]?" Killua's expression is complicated in the next panel - he's closed off and uncertain. Silva continues "Be honest, Kil... what do you want?" End ID.]

Killua will backtalk and casually break his shackles and death glare his family... but he's too fearful to voice his wants aloud.

And once again, asked by his father what he wants, he is subtly set up to fail. His wish is granted, but made conditional - "Do not betray your friends", something Killua is regrettably set up to do by virtue of the needle in his head that he, again, doesn't know about. Silva fully expects him to fail and come back home, disillusioned, believing it's his own fault due to his "nature", and trusting in Silva still as a "reasonable" figure in his life.

This condition placed on his friendship is what drives much of Killua's fear and insecurity with regards to Gon for much of the series - the idea that Killua has to earn his right to friendship, and that if he doesn't, he will lose it, one way or another.

It really makes me wish that Killua had actually gotten to hear Gon's views on friendship from the beginning of the Zoldyck Family arc, because it entirely refutes this entire philosophy. He even outright refuses to go through the Testing Gates at first, purely because he thinks the sentiment of needing to prove yourself just to be friends is completely outrageous - he only relents because there is no other way.

[ID: Two screenshots from episodes 21 and 22 of the 2011 HxH anime adaptation. Gon looks up at Illumi and firmly states "[Killua] doesn't need to earn the right to be my friend!" In the second, Gon's face is seen in profile and close up as he asks "Why would you test your friends?" End ID.]

I doubt it would've truly prevented Killua's insecurity from manifesting even if he had heard this, to be honest - his issues with usefulness are very deep-rooted in his upbringing - but still, it would've been nice for him to hear, I think.

However, that's not to say that this exact sentiment doesn't come through in their interactions.

Gon, as Killua's friend, cares about what Killua actually wants and wants to make sure Killua knows that - and that's part of what makes the Whale Island conversation between them really important.

[ID: Two images, both of the same scene from HxH chapter 64, and episode 37 of the 2011 anime. In the manga panel, Gon has turned his head to look at Killua directly, who looks shocked and taken aback, to say "I like hanging out with you." In the anime screenshot, Gon has turned his whole body to face Killua, and says "I think it's fun to be with you." End ID.]

I see a lot of people chalk this up to just Gon being Gon, but it reads to me as much more deliberate than even his usual honesty. He's turned so he's looking directly at Killua, which is a sure way to make his words come across clearly. The lead up to this is Killua, again, not knowing or being able to vocalize what he wants. He doesn't have a goal to work towards like Gon, he only knows what he doesn't want - he's a mix of envious and admiring towards Gon, who knows what he wants and simply goes for it.

But this conversation makes it clear that they have a shared wish - they both want to be friends, and they'd both like to stay together. It's not about earning, to Gon, it's only about if they both want the same thing - mutual, not conditional. There's a nice almost call-and-response type dialogue here, where Gon asserts that he likes spending time with Killua (very directly lol), then shares that Killua is the first friend his age he's had. This prompts Killua to say that Gon is his first friend ever, and that he does have fun with him. And just like that, Gon replies "Then let's stay together!" and pointedly includes Killua's desire to find a goal in their, now shared, upcoming journey.

Overhead, a shooting star appears in the sky. A mutual wish is granted.

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 64. The night sky is full of stars. In the centre is a shooting star. End ID.]

Hm. Stars. Remember how I told you to keep that in mind, all the way back at the beginning? Their association with Tanabata, making a wish on a shooting star, etc. etc.?

Well, buckle up because this star is going to make you experience so much sadness now.

[ID: Panels from HxH chapter 286. The first is a conversation between Killua and Meleoron where Killua asserts he intends to "go down in flames with [Gon]". When Meleoron looks concerned, Killua brushes off the declaration as a joke. In the second image, Killua is turned away, his outline pale, as Meleoron thinks "Why... did you looks so sad... back there?" The last image is a cloudy night sky filled with stars. At the centre of the panel is a shooting star. End ID.]

Yeah, it makes its reappearance directly after Killua has "jokingly" resolved to die with Gon if it comes down to it, after "since it means nothing to you".

I am assured, in Japanese, the word choice here is 心中 (shinjuu), the word for double suicide, where the intent is to die at the same time in the same manner in order to be reunited in the afterlife. The implication here is that Killua, having increasingly grown insecure in his place by Gon's side but unable to voice this, knowing that Gon is hurtling down the path of no return, thinks back to their conversation under the stars where they both mutually wished to stay together and, because he believes that it is no longer possible for him to help Gon, has resolved to stay by his side in death, and after it.

...holy shit, kid.

[ID: Two screenshots from the 4th ending of the 2011 anime. In the first, Gon and Killua stand back to back as meteors fall around them. In the second, they stand facing away from the audience towards a body of water under a night sky filled with stars - Gon throws a stone, which flashes in the air like a shooting star. End ID.]

And of course, here's the shooting star again in the 2011 anime's Nagareboshi Kirari ending, as well as it being the subject of the song itself and rather explicitly referencing that wish to go on a journey together, to stay together, because... Madhouse hates us. I guess. :'(

What started off as a simple wish for a friend deepened into a wish to always stay by Gon's side. This is largely good at first! Killua is able to explore and experience genuine friendship, to get a taste for freedom, and use the power of his fervent wish to protect his dear friend in order to rid himself of Illumi's needle. However, the more Killua wants, the more he traps these wishes in monologues within his own head and does not voice them aloud. Part of it is that he already feels he's been given much more than he deserves - seeing himself as a creature of darkness and Gon as light - but a greater part of the issue here is not that Killua is afraid to wish for things, but that he is afraid wishing without "compensation" will inevitably lead to horrible repercussions - namely, losing who he loves.

In order to feel worthy of staying with Gon, of earning his friendship, Killua works hard to help Gon achieve his goals, taking on the role of wish grantor, growing to do practically anything needed to support him for seemingly nothing in return - but that's not 100% true. Killua wants at least some appreciation, whether he admits it or not - it's a security thing, and it also clearly makes him happy, even if he's not great at accepting it. He insists in Chimera Ant arc that friends don't need to thank friends, but this declaration always read as very sudden to me or like a rationalization, and it's relevant to remember that this is at the peak of Gon isolating himself and self-destructing before his eyes, and Killua's own insecurity regarding his importance to him.

Killua might not mind doing things without thanks, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like to hear that Gon appreciates him. He clearly does appreciate verbal confirmation of their bond! We know this.

[ID: Two screenshots from the 2011 anime. The first is from episode 61. Killua smiles down at the ground with his hands in his pockets, the colours having gone soft and bright. The second is from episode 70 during the dodgeball match. Gon smiles determinedly in the foreground as Killua looks shocked next to him. End ID.]

Keeping all this in mind, Killua's story, or at least this part of it, couldn't have concluded in a better way than his rescue of Alluka, the wish grantor.

Now, I could probably write an entire other analysis on Alluka and Nanika alone, but for the sake of not making this any longer than I already have, I'm going to go through only a few points. Alluka is incomprehensible to her family because they make no attempt to understand her, with the exception of Killua. The only thing they do seem to understand, when explained to them, is the demands made after Nanika grants a wish - this, of course, fits neatly into their own predetermined views on "earning" and "punishment". However, beyond this, they make no attempt to understand her, and since her power is deemed dangerous and uncontrollable, she is locked away.

They are worried, first and foremost, that Alluka will bring harm to the family, and there's two ways in which this could be true:

As a function of failing to fulfill her requests, of course

Because she, just by existing, threatens the family's status quo

I stated at the beginning that Killua's desires do not align with those of the family business, and he's always apparently been more open to understanding others - he asks Alluka and Nanika questions to understand them, and treats them with respect, while his family are more so focused on subjugating anything that might be a threat. This is what Illumi tried to drill into Killua after all; never fight a superior opponent - everything is about assessments of relative strength, which leaves no room for open-mindedness or getting to know people.

Faced with a daughter who is clearly incomprehensibly powerful, and a son, the would-be inheritor of the family trade, who is showing a disturbing amount of willingness to befriend instead of retreat from her, the family made the decision to excise Alluka not just from where she could "harm" the family power-wise, but also likely to secure their control over Killua, who they then set about practically programming to not have any more wishes for himself, or at least to not be able to vocalize them without fear of loss or retribution.

The family's nickname for Killua is "Kil" or "Killu", which is deeply fascinating to me as a reader - nicknames are expressions of endearment, typically, and I actually don't doubt that here. Killua's family does love him, but their love comes with conditions. He must be molded into the perfect son, and every part of him that doesn't fit must be excised.

So: Killua's memories of Alluka are suppressed with the needle, and she is further cut from his life by dropping the "a" from his name (the Zoldyck children are named like a game of shiratori - Illumi -> Milluki -> Killua -> Alluka -> Kalluto). The nickname is also like a command or order "to kill", which is of course what they want him to do.

Saving Gon through saving Alluka and Nanika forces Killua to have to face down the last and hardest of Illumi's manipulations to shake, and that's the notion that a wish, that kindness and friendship and love, cannot be unconditional without severe repercussions - where the people he cares about get hurt because of him, something he cannot envision being forgiven for.

It's a little sad to me that after spending most of the series struggling against his family's teachings that they didn't lead to Killua betraying Gon at all, as he'd feared... but to him betraying Nanika, by sending her away.

Here is this little girl with a bloodstained past, incredibly powerful and dangerous and capable of amazing feats, treated as some evil thing by those who fear her. But she is kind at heart. Her true strength lies in healing, not killing. And she only takes commands from Killua.

Illumi thinks this is because Killua is the only one with control over her. Killua believes this is because she wants praise. They're both partially correct, but this is not the full reason Nanika does what Killua asks of her.

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 146 of the 2011 anime. In the first, Nanika smiles and says "I love Killua." In the second, Killua looks at her, stricken. End ID.]

Nanika loves him. Everyone has been trying to figure out all these complicated rules and conditions on her wish granting and why Killua is the one exception, but the answer is exceedingly simple. She loves him, and wants to do nice things for him so he can have his wishes granted. It's the only way she knows to get the love that she wants in turn.

Just like her brother, Nanika makes herself useful to earn love and appreciation from someone who accepted her when no one else did.

Even though he knows Nanika just wants to help, he still sees her presence as a danger to the person he sees as pure and innocent who must be protected. He sends her away because her "nature" is to be a threat to Alluka's safety, even if she doesn't intend to be. Killua's fear of Illumi and repercussions causes him to make a horrible mistake.

And Alluka tears into him for it.

[ID: A set of panels from HxH chapter 336. A furious Alluka glares and asks Killua if he made Nanika cry. When Killua stutters, she demands he apologize to her. End ID.]

You tell him, girl.

Oh hey, this looks a little familiar, huh?

"Apologize to Killua!" says Gon to Illumi after Illumi sends Killua away.

Nanika should not be the one punished for the actions of those trying to control her. She certainly shouldn't be forced to leave those she loves, or have to earn love from them.

And neither should Killua.

[ID: Three panels from HxH chapter 336. Alluka yells, tears in her eyes, "If you're going to protect me... you have to protect Nanika too!!" Killua looks shocked, then his eyes widen. End ID.]

It's interesting to me that this is the line that snaps Killua out of his fear enough for him to properly speak with Nanika and apologize. One party cannot receive all the protection, nor can the other only give and give limitlessly.

Killua makes it clear to Nanika when speaking with her that he will protect her, and that she doesn't need to earn affection from people by granting their wishes. He promises they will both be there for each other - Killua will praise her whenever she wants, and not just when she does something for him, but he also doesn't refuse Nanika's desire to grant his wishes. It's mutual, not conditional.

And on the heels of this "betrayal", Killua asks for what he never thought he could receive - forgiveness. And even though Nanika is clearly still very upset...

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 146. In the first, Nanika and Killua face each other, both of them teary. Nanika says "Kay." In the second, he has pulled her into a hug. Nanika is teary, her fingers gripping Killua's back tightly. End ID.]

...she doesn't even have to think about it.

I do think Killua still has a ways to go, but he is in a position right now to learn from his relationship with his sisters about balance - that love is not just selfless devotion, but also allowing those who love you to help you and make you happy too. I think that's what unconditional love is, in a way - supporting and working together with the people you love to make each other's wishes come true.

[evelynpr]

Lantern Rite Spoilers

It hit me like a truck realizing that Hu Tao is exactly that character trope of appearing social and carefree all the time but deliberately never attaches herself to anyone...because that is what got her father killed as a funeral director.

The irony of Hu Tao being mad at her father for being attached, when she's only this mad because she is attached to him in the first place, thus choosing to not attach to anyone else. Man.