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accio-victuuri · 21 hours ago

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goodnight song is what we thought it would be and more 🌙

even before this was fully released, we already had expectations and clowning related to it. and a line from this song was the first real clue we had that the rumored album was actually true. so cpn aside, this track will always be special. there is an official explanation to this song and everyone is free to keep it that way because it’s a perfectly good message that goes well with the entire album. however, as with all other kinds of art, it is up for interpretation. and who’s to say there aren’t alternative meanings. it’s not like he can publicly say that oh, this is about the loml. anyway, while i was reading through some reactions to it i found one that perfectly describes it:

There is not a word about love, but every sentence is filled with love. Every word in the lyrics is a clear love story that people who know can understand at a glance.

and that’s the beauty of this song. it doesn’t have love in big bold letters but to those of us who have paid attention for years, we can see it.

so what did we see? …..

let’s look at the lyrics. 📝

Using a bowl of noodles, a bowl of soup

To flush away this piece of sorrow that warms the heart

Thinking again of her, or of him

Just think of it as an after-meal refreshment

i was already freaking out with the first line! sure, you can say he is talking about a comfort food that makes him less lonely but then the next part goes that he is thinking of someone. who could it be? who was the someone who nagged him to eat noodles? not only that, the same person who always asked him to eat well? YIBO.

i think this is common knowledge by know. the infamous wonton noodles. even his solos cannot deny what they saw in the cql bts. even in lrlg, this is a usual scenario.

🟢 "I'll cook noodles for you"

🟢 “Get off the car and eat noodles”

🟢 "Mom said, when you come back, let me cook noodles for you."

🟢 "I'll cook noodles for you. Where can you eat your first meal if you're not at home?"

yibo making sure that xz is eating well and vice versa. as a cpf, this is one of those clues that made me side-eye their relationship. it’s not even the fact that wyb made sure he eats cause any friend can do that — but the lengths he would go to make sure xz did. it was different.

and now xz gave his answer of how he saw that. in this first line alone. it warmed his heart. it was and is an act of love in it’s most basic form 🥹🥹🥹🥹

i also feel like this is a case of if you know, you know. if that first line didn’t hit you in the head then no amount of explanation will.

Don't be too pessimistic; need to try to become habituated sooner or later

The one left behind has no choice but to bear it

A 'good night' left for my past

this to me is him having to get used to the distance from a lover because of his work. but they have no choice but to bear it and try to live through it by the good night from the last time they met/spoke.

How many people, must take how many corners

Before being able to find their other half

Don't retreat, seeing your single-mindedness

Is able to disperse my anxieties

xz acknowledges how hard it is to find your soulmate. your twin flame. and most likely, harder to keep it. but as explained here, that person’s single mindedness or maybe you can say that person’s devotion towards him is enough to soothe his anxieties.

when you hear single mindedness or maybe single minded focus, doesn’t that remind you of yibo? and i love how cpfs went back on how persistent yibo was when it comes to xz (evidenced by mostly cql bts). some saw it as being a gremlin or him being a naive boy with a crush but clearly xz was comforted by it. most likely even now. as yibo said, what he decided when he was 21, he will continue on till 81. that level of commitment to xz is what he needs to drive away the anxieties.

Using a short phrase, a bowl of food

To take away the entire night's loneliness

Time to stop speaking, the sun's about to rise

Thank you for the warmth you gifted me

Thank you for the 'good night' you gifted me

there we go with the sunrise again 🌄 and love and affection equated with warmth.

this is a really sweet way to describe love. it’s not about someone being with you at night but one who can take away the loneliness with just a good night. no kiss. no hugs. nothing barely physical mentioned. but something as simple as a good night. that at the end of a long exhausting day, or whatever happens, he has that someone who will wish him a good night.

i’m gonna cry 😭😭😭😭😭

and oh someone pointed out that the lyrics, you can see Y & B. YIBO. what a coincidence!

-END.

P.S: feel free to interpret this song however you want. this post is not a space to argue about what other meaning it could have. if you want the official meaning, his team already released that. there is no point in debating or trying to convince me of whatever. this post is on the cpf side so if that’s not you, why are you even reading this post lol.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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rosewaterandivy · 3 days ago

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you’re a dream to me (steve’s version)

a continuation of this blurb

pairing: s.h x f!reader

themes: smut mdni, “they were roommates,” shame surrounding sex/orgasm, casual intimacy, heavy petting, fingering, light praise kink, squirting

Steve didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

You, however, woke refreshed and in a brighter mood. Hopped off the couch without some much as a “good morning,” and padded over to the kitchen to start the coffee maker.

He’d tossed and turned in vain for another hour or so, until the din of “hushed” voices was too much to ignore.

The couch sags as someone takes a seat on the edge, boxing in his legs underneath the blanket. Turning from a perfectly comfortable position on his stomach, shirt tucked up to his chest, Steve wakes to the scent of cinnamon and coffee.

“Hey sleepyhead,” You greet with a smile, “Made a fresh batch just how you like it.” Only to place the cup in your grasp on the coffee table in front of him, just out of his reach.

“Rude,” He rasps sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Have you seen my—”

You place the glasses in his lap before he can finish asking the question. He mumbles his thanks and puts them on, running a hand through his wild hair.

“The kids and girls are making their rounds in the old neighborhood. I’m hanging back to do some stuff around here.”

He takes a sip of coffee and nods along.

Steve’s supposed to do the typical holiday check-in with his parents, but really has no interest in it. Christmas isn’t far off, he could just put it off until then. Besides, it’s not like they’d do anything but a tension filled lunch at the club where his mother will ask when he’ll finally settle down and his father will remind him that it’s past time to get serious about his future.

He mulls it over while drinking his coffee. Half-watching you mosey around the house starting laundry, writing a grocery list, opening the windows to let in the brisk autumn breeze.

It’s Sunday. On Sundays you do chores, pick up the groceries for the week, spend approximately two hours in the bathroom doing god knows what only to come out nearly a new woman, and order take out from the good Thai place just off-campus.

Steve leaves you to your routine, making a pit-stop to find the cordless phone and leave a message for his parents.

“Hey, it’s me. Something came up and I can’t make it. I guess I’ll see you at the Christmas Eve party. Okay, bye.”

He places the phone back in the cradle to charge and walks back to his room. He didn’t exactly leave it pristine, but it’s essentially an unmitigated disaster now. Whatever hell Dustin and Mike had wrought, they would be paying for in spades.

Sheets don’t knot themselves up, he knows that much for sure. And yeah, Will and Lucas were in here too, but they had far too much sense for whatever this chaos is.

There’s a soft knock on the door. He turns to find you leaning against the jamb wearing a familiar Stop Making Sense tour shirt.

Steve can’t even bring himself to be mad. You flash him a smile and say, “I’m running out to the store. D’you need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good honey.”

“Okay,” You fiddle with the strap of your tote bag on your shoulder. “The washer should be free soon, I just have to move my stuff once I’m back.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says stepping closer, “I can flip your stuff.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Thanks Steve. I’ll be back soon!” You say with a turn toward the door and toe on your sneakers. With a brief wave, the door shuts behind you and Steve, for the first time in a long time, is left to his own devices.

Not that he takes advantage of it, of course.

He showers, lets the phone ring and machine pick it up, eats something vaguely decent (though the expiration date is questionable), and flips your laundry only to begin his own.

Piling his laundry into the washer and eyeballing an appropriate amount of detergent, he hears you call out a greeting as the front door opens.

You’re weighted down with paper bags and trip twice from the entry way to the kitchen. Steve takes the bags from you without much fuss, sets them down on the counter how you like and sorts out the pantry versus refrigerator goods.

There’s a garbled sound from the answering machine as you press the play button in the living room. He continues to put the groceries away, not paying much mind to whomever had called.

You slide in on socked feet nearly careening into him.

“Shit, sorry!”

This you say directly to his sternum, face plastered to his chest. You can feel his laughter as he says, “S’fine sugar. No harm, no foul.”

Steve’s hands grip your forearms, warm and wide, as he sets you back to rights. He gets a good look at you— freshly washed hair, bare faced, and already in your comfies. He notes the distinct lack of voices in the house. Then, he gets an idea.

“Who was on the machine?”

“Oh, just the kids and the girls.” You say, filling a glass of water. “They’ll be at the ‘rents tonight. Something about giving us our space back.”

“Huh.”

“I mean, they’ll be back tomorrow night. You know they can never last long confined to their childhood bedrooms and loving parental advice.”

Steve considers this information.

“Do ya want me to wash your sheets?” You offer, “I think Dustin may have just passed out in his clothes last night, shoes and all.”

All it takes is a nod from him and then you’re trotting off down the hall. You come back with a smile, sheets miraculously free of knots, and disappear into the laundry room humming a tune from the radio.

The night passes unceremoniously, unfolding in its typical fashion of ordering way too much food and then watching the Twin Peaks episode from last week that you’d taped.

Steve finds himself in a familiar place— arm around your waist, snuggled on the sofa, a blanket draped over you both. He can smell that lotion or perfume you only wear on Sundays, clean and fresh like sheets drying on a clothesline.

“Hey, um,” He begins, trepidation rattling in his voice. “Don’t get mad, but are you okay?”

He can feel as you tense in his arms.

“M’fine Steve. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, you just said something last night and it got me worried is all.”

You heave a sigh, turning from the tv to face him. Your lips are drawn in a tight line, brow furrowed.

“Just forget I said anything.”

He worries his thumb along your jaw. Eyes tracing along your face— the fading freckles from the summer heat smattered across your nose, the high color of your cheeks.

“I don’t think I should,” He says carefully, “It doesn’t sound like something anyone who cared about you would dream of saying.”

He lets the words land. Watches as realization flashes across your features. Wonders why you’d let something so baselessly wrong bother you so much.

“I mean, they’re not exactly wrong.”

Steve cringes at the thought.

“I’m not like, the easiest person to deal with in that respect.”

“How d’you mean?”

He draws you closer, hand falling to the small of your back.

You bite your lip, eyes flitting to and fro.

“Sex, Steve, I mean sex.”

His mouth falls open in an oh of recognition.

“Apparently, it takes a lot of work for me to come and even when I do, it’s a mess.”

Steve tries to school his expression into one less shocking. Who the fuck would say something like that to you? What is wrong with people?!

“To add insult to injury,” You say with a snort, “I haven’t been able to come for weeks. It’s beginning to be quite the issue.”

Huh. So that explains why you flew off the handle at trivia night the other day. He knew it couldn’t have been over not knowing something as innocuous as which mountain range separates Europe and Asia?

You’re squirming in his grasp and he can tell you’d like nothing more than to turn around and pretend this conversation never even happened.

But the thing about Steve is, he’s like a dog with a bone. And unbeknownst to you, you are the bone in this scenario.

Before you can pull away, he grounds you with an arm to the waist. In response, you raise a delicate brow.

And ah, fuck here he goes.

“I could, uh,” He swallows audibly, “Help with that, if you want.”

Your immediate instinct is to roll your eyes and laugh, let slip a sardonic sure, Steve.

And you can’t help the huff of a laugh that escapes as you say, “Offer that service to all you gal pals?”

“N-no. I - don’t. Just—”

The you is left unspoken but it hooks at something in your chest and pulls. Leaves you jittery and… wanting.

“Okay,” you say with an inelegant shimmy onto your back. “Show me your moves, Harrington.”

Shocked still, Steve doesn’t know where to begin. You’ve maneuvered your back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder and hips slotted beneath his. Your legs splay open, the hem of his shirt falling just above your black briefs.

His heart rattles in his chest, and he’s sure you can feel its frantic pace. He scooches back a bit, separating his hips from the swell of your ass, and sits you up.

The vantage point is better, he rationalizes, he can see what he’s doing here. At his movement, you grab the hem of his shirt and peel it off your body, the image of David Byrne’s big suit landing in a heap at the foot of the couch.

“You can touch me, y’know.”

And yeah, he definitely wants to. Stripped down to your basics, black on black and nothing fancy, Steve’s mouth begins to water. It’s so surreal— he never thought you’d actually take him up on his insane offer. Much less so willingly.

“Y-yeah, okay.”

Your warm back settles against his chest once more. His hands trail the notches of your neck as you turn your head.

“Can you do me a favor though, and just like, talk to me?”

He swallows, desire carving a searing path through his chest.

“Course, sugar.”

And then there’s the hot press of his mouth against your jaw, and the scent of him rushes into your shared space and has your groaning softly. Fresh citrus from his body wash tanged with something that’s ineffably Steve.

His entire body shudders against yours. His hips lurch into the sliver of space between you as he breathes brokenly, “Holy shit.” And you can’t help but agree.

Steve’s fingers end up buried between your legs. Hand wedged into the impossible space between your clenching thighs. His opposite hand splayed against the soft curve of your abdomen, holding you in place and pressing you down into the cushions.

He’s talked you through it all, gentle murmurs and slurred words, the nip of his teeth at your throat. Told you how pretty you were, how good, his mouth smearing hot and wet against your skin.

And how he’d worked you up with his soft, lingering touch. Fingers trailing along sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. How he’d eased the straps down your shoulders, circled your nipples over the fabric and teased them to peaks before letting the black fabric pool at your waist.

There’s a slow drag of words from his throat when his hand brushes the band of your briefs.

“Y’ready, honey?”

All you can manage is a nod, chin clearly thumping against your chest as his fingers dip beneath the fabric to slowly drag through your soft curls. The point of his nose traces a line against the column of your throat, breath hot and seeping while you’re positively leaking through the fabric.

Shifting your hips in desperation, his fingers slip lower and barely brush against your clit. It draws a deep whine from your chest as you reach back in desperation to find his hair and pull.

“Fu-ck.”

Steve’s hips buck against the fat of your ass, his hand pressing down against your pelvis, the pad of his finger petting delicately at the seam of your sex.

“So good like this,” he says raggedly, thumb alighting on your clit with a smear of slick as you gasp. “I know, I know,” he soothes, as your mind drips into something syrupy and slow.

His clever finger slips inside, punching the breath from your lungs. Your head turns to the side, pleasure loosening your bones and burning like an inferno. But Steve never lets up, even as he’s breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded and staring back at you.

His cheeks are flushed pink as he murmurs and mutters, words long lost to you now as heat cracks through you like a live wire, coaxed gently along by Steve’s careful ministrations.

“— want you, please,” you babble incoherently. Already fucked stupid, buoyed by the senseless desire he draws from you like water.

A lewd squelching noise as two of his thick fingers sink into you, causing your voice to break, “Want your cock— inside, oh fuck.” Your eyes roll back in your head at the deep press of them, cunt clenching as they slide against your walls.

His thumb brushes your clit, a firm press as he buries his fingers deep and presses down with his opposite hand, hot and searing on your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, urging your hips forward in his fingers buried to the hilt. “Jus’ like this.” He murmurs something else into the hollow of your throat, something lost to time and space.

You’re shivering and throbbing and rocking downwards onto his hand as his fingers continue to ignite your pleasure. His touch searing like a brand as he continues to press against you, until your voice breaks on a moan.

“Yeah,” you breathe, head lolling against his chest, fingers loosely gripping his damp hair. “Right there, oh fuck, Steve —”

You make a mess of him as he draws your desire up, up, up. As it peaks, your back bows and strangled shout falls from your lips, moisture rushing from you. Soaking his fingers and hand, your thighs, the couch cushions, fucking Christ.

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry,” you whimper, fingers clutching tight in his hair.

And all he makes is a deep sound of satisfaction, hips stuttering against your ass. A dark rumble from the confines of his chest, and you look up to see his eyes molten gold and heavy lidded, a smile breaking across his face.

The last of your release shudders through you, his fingers slipping slowly from your sex, petting in soothing strokes and easing you from your pleasure. But still, there’s a keen ache making you clench and flutter around nothing.

Forcing your fingers to loosen from his hair, you let them graze his temple, his cheek heated and damp beneath your skin.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, catching your breath as your eyes flutter closed. Pushing hair from your face, you find your brow slick with sweat. Steve, without a care, whispers a kiss to your brow and huffs a laugh.

“How did you get so good at that?”

Can’t even be bothered to turn back, you roll your head on his chest catching an inelegant shrug of his shoulder.

“Mmm,” you murmur, content to be splayed against him. “I owe you one, pal. Jus’ gimme a minute…”

Steve sighs softly, letting his fingers tangle in your hair as your breathing evens out in sleep. Eventually, he’ll rally and heft you back to your room and clean sheets.

And eventually, though who can say when, he’ll screw his courage to the sticking place and cash in that I.O.U.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction

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estellesdoll · 3 days ago

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Hii can you do a Matt Sturniolo imagine where like the reader (us) is Eminem’s daughter and they like meet at an event and are like super into each other but they Matt doesn’t find out we’re eminems daughter until a little bit later. Please and thank you <3

∿ 𝜗 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜚 ﹐

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: At an event, Y/n, Eminem’s daughter, meets Matt while picking a drink. They connect easily, and when Matt learns who she is, he treats her like anyone else. By the end of the night, there's a spark between them, hinting at something special.

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 : yes

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: older!matt x fem!reader | Eminem's daughter

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption

𝒘. 𝒄.: 3.1k

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: I hope you like it! 🎀🤍 It's my first request, and I'm pretty nervous! SEND ME MORE REQUESTS, AND IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE A COMMENT ON THE POST:

౨ৎ𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 |

| ౨ৎ𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕

The event was in full swing, a sea of people gathered in the extravagant venue. The lights flickered in sync with the beats of the music, and the air was thick with excitement. But, as always, you tried your best to stay in the background, away from the spotlight that seemed to follow you wherever you went. After all, being Eminem's daughter wasn’t always as glamorous as people made it out to be. Tonight was no exception, your goal was to enjoy the night without drawing too much attention.

You bit your lip as you read over the menu for what felt like the tenth time. A Tommy’s Margarita? A Negroni? You had no idea what the difference was between them, and the last thing you wanted was to look completely out of place by ordering something that tasted awful. You loved a good drink, but you weren’t exactly a cocktail expert. You shifted on your feet, trying to decide, and that’s when you heard a voice next to you.

“Having trouble deciding?” he asked, his voice light and friendly, with a hint of curiosity.

You blinked, trying to shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. Maybe a friend of a friend? Or just someone you’d seen in passing? You didn’t know, but his face definitely wasn’t unfamiliar. Maybe you had seen him in a video or an Instagram post? He had that vibe, someone you might come across on a popular account. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about him that felt so familiar.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “I’m a little lost here. I was thinking of getting a Tommy’s Margarita or a Negroni, but I don’t even know what the difference is.”

He glanced at the menu, his smile not fading. “Ah, well, the Tommy’s Margarita’s actually a pretty straightforward drink. It’s just tequila, lime juice, and agave. No triple sec like a regular margarita. It’s refreshing—tart, but not too sweet.”

You nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information. “So, it’s like a cleaner version of a regular one?”

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. “It’s pretty smooth, too, so it’s a good choice if you’re looking for something light and easy to sip on.”

You felt a little more confident now, but your attention still wavered between the drinks on the menu. “And the Negroni? What’s that one like?”

He chuckled softly, as though amused by the contrast in choices you were considering. “A Negroni is, uh... definitely more of an acquired taste,” he explained, his voice gentle and patient. “It’s gin, vermouth rosso, and Campari. It’s very bitter—herbal, strong. Not something I’d recommend if you want something refreshing.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of something so bitter. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that one. Not feeling the bitter vibe tonight.”

He laughed, a warm, easy sound. “Smart move. The last thing you want is to be stuck with something you can’t even enjoy. You want something light, right?”

You nodded, relieved that he was guiding you through the options without any judgment. You were starting to feel more at ease in this conversation, even though you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that you knew him from somewhere.

“Well, in that case,” he continued, his gaze still on the menu, “the Tommy’s Margarita is definitely your best bet. It’s the kind of drink that goes down easy and doesn’t make you regret your choices later.”

You chuckled, appreciating the reassurance. “Okay, I’ll go with that. One Tommy’s Margarita, please,” you said, feeling like you could actually get through the night without too much embarrassment.

He grinned, clearly pleased with your choice. “Good pick. You won’t regret it.”

As the bartender started preparing your drink, you turned to face him again, feeling like the conversation had flowed so easily. There was something about him that made you feel comfortable, as if talking to him was just... natural. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder where you knew him from.

The more you thought about it, the more his face seemed familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on social media, or in a video—he had that type of presence that made you feel like you’d come across him online before. It was like a faint memory that was just out of reach.

“So, are you new to cocktails, or just trying something different tonight?” he asked casually, his voice relaxed.

You laughed, feeling the lightness of the moment. “I’m more of a wine or beer person. But, you know, fancy night and all that. Figured I should try something new.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. Sometimes the fancy drinks aren’t just about the taste. They’re about the experience, right?”

“Exactly!” you said, warming to the conversation. “It’s like, why not try something new while we’re here?”

“Right,” he agreed, his voice softening. “Life’s too short to play it safe all the time. Gotta make the night memorable.”

You smiled, feeling a little more connected to him. There was something about the way he spoke—so laid-back, so easy to talk to—that made the whole event feel less overwhelming. Maybe you had made the right choice coming here tonight after all.

“Plus,” he added with a teasing grin, “if the drink ends up being terrible, we can just blame it on the drink and call it a learning experience.”

You laughed, and the bartender slid your Tommy’s Margarita toward you. You picked it up, raising your glass toward him. “Well, I’ll just blame you if it doesn’t taste good.”

Matt raised his own drink, his eyes locking with yours as he smiled. “You can blame me all you want. I’ll take the hit.”

You both clinked glasses, and you took a sip of your drink. It was perfect—tart, refreshing, exactly what you needed. You smiled at Matt over the rim of your glass, feeling a little lighter now that you’d figured out what to drink.

“This is really good,” you said, your smile genuine.

He grinned, pleased with your reaction. “Told you. You made the right choice.”

For a moment, you just stood there, both sipping your drinks and enjoying the quiet comfort of each other’s company. The event felt a little less like a formal gathering and more like just two people getting to know each other.

"So, are you always this good at making cocktail recommendations?" you teased, a small smile curling at your lips. "Or is this just a one-time thing?"

Matt chuckled, his eyes lighting up as they met yours. "I’m just a guy who knows his drinks. But I think I’m also pretty good at reading the room," he said with a playful glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the confidence in his voice. "Oh really?" you asked, leaning in slightly, just enough to make the space between you feel charged. "And what does that say about me?"

He took a small step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "It says you’re someone who appreciates a good recommendation—and someone who knows how to enjoy themselves when they’re out," he said, his voice lowering slightly, as if the words were meant only for you.

You smiled, the compliment making your pulse quicken a bit. There was an undeniable energy between you two now, something that made the rest of the world blur out of focus for a moment. "I like the sound of that," you murmured, feeling a little bolder now that the conversation was leaning into something more intimate.

Matt’s lips curved into a grin, his gaze softening just a touch. "Good, because I’m just getting started," he replied, his tone warm, yet there was a challenge in it, like he was daring you to keep up.

Your heart fluttered, the playful back-and-forth making everything feel more thrilling. The connection between you was undeniable now, and you could tell he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. The night felt suddenly filled with possibilities, and the conversation was only just beginning.

"So, what’s next?" you asked, your voice soft but curious, wondering where this would lead.

Matt leaned in just slightly, his voice quieter. "Whatever you’re up for. I’m all about keeping things interesting."

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension between you two building with every passing moment. The night had just begun, but you already felt like it was turning into something unforgettable.

As the conversation continued, the easy chemistry between you two only grew. You felt yourself relaxing, laughing more easily with him. There was something so natural about the way he spoke, like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you for who you were—not just as someone famous, but as you.

He leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking with yours as he asked, “So, you never told me your name…”

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the subtle shift in the air. "It’s Y/n," you replied, your voice soft, not fully sure what kind of reaction he might have. "But, um, I guess you could say... it’s a bit of a... family name."

Matt furrowed his brow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Family name? What’s that supposed to mean?” His curiosity was clear, though there was no judgment in his voice.

You smiled, looking down at your drink for a second before meeting his gaze again. "Well... my dad’s kind of a big deal," you said, your words casual but laced with a hint of hesitation. "You might’ve heard of him... Eminem?"

Matt blinked, processing the information. The realization slowly dawned on him, and his expression shifted from playful curiosity to something more awed. "Wait, Eminem’s daughter?" He leaned back slightly, eyes widening. "No way."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the surprise in his voice. "Yeah, I know, kind of a shocker, right?" You shrugged, trying to downplay it, feeling the familiar discomfort of being tied to that name, though it wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection.

But Matt’s surprise wasn’t off-putting. He didn’t seem impressed in the way people usually were when they found out who your dad was. He seemed genuinely... intrigued, and something in his expression softened as he continued, “I never would’ve guessed. Honestly, I don’t even know why I didn’t put it together sooner.”

You smiled, appreciating his reaction more than you expected. "I like to keep things low-key," you said. "It’s just easier that way."

He nodded, looking thoughtful. “I get that. It must be tough sometimes, though, right? Having everyone always know who you are...”

You shrugged. “It’s not that bad, really. I’ve always kind of just... been me. The whole fame thing is something I never really got used to.”

Matt’s eyes softened, his voice quieting. “I like that about you. You’re not trying to be anyone you’re not.”

There was something in the way he said it, so honest, that made your chest warm. His sincerity was refreshing, and it made you feel even more at ease with him.

"So, um..." Matt began, his smile returning. "That’s pretty cool, though. I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda shocked when you said your name earlier, but you’re nothing like what I expected."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

Matt chuckled, a bit of shyness creeping into his demeanor now that the mystery was out. "I don’t know, maybe someone who’d be all about the spotlight? You’re just... normal. And honestly, it’s kinda nice."

You smiled at his honesty, feeling your heart flutter a little. “Yeah, well, sometimes I’d rather just enjoy the night like anyone else. No cameras, no interviews... just a drink and a good conversation.”

“Exactly,” Matt said, his voice almost conspiratorial. “And it feels like that’s what we’re having right now.”

The way he said it made your pulse quicken. He wasn’t treating you like you were some celebrity—he was just treating you like someone he was genuinely getting to know, and that felt... nice. More than nice, actually.

"So," you said, leaning in a little, your voice soft, “what do you think about the rest of the night? You up for a bit of an adventure?”

His smile widened, and you could see the same spark in his eyes that you felt. “You know what? I think I’m up for whatever comes next... especially if it means more time with you.”

The air between you two crackled with potential, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you weren’t just the daughter of a famous rapper—you were just Y/n, having a fun night with someone who was clearly drawn to you, not the persona attached to your name.

As the night stretched on, you two continued to talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company, both of you discovering more about the other in the most genuine way possible. By the time the event started to wind down, you realized how much you were looking forward to what might come next.

And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel like Eminem’s daughter, just a girl who had met someone she couldn’t wait to see again.

As the event began winding down, the crowd starting to thin out, you found yourself not wanting to leave just yet. There was something about Matt that kept you there, drawn to him in a way that felt effortless. His presence was comforting, like a quiet anchor in a world that could sometimes feel overwhelming.

The music was quieter now, the lights dimmer, but you barely noticed any of that. Your focus was entirely on him, the way he smiled when he caught your gaze, the way his hand rested just a little too close to yours on the bar.

“So,” Matt said, leaning closer, his voice soft, “I’m really glad we talked tonight. I know we’ve only just met, but it feels like... I don’t know, like it’s been longer, you know?”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at how sincere he sounded. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like everything just clicked, like we’re... meant to be having this conversation right now.”

Matt’s gaze softened, and he smiled at you with such warmth that your chest fluttered. There was something undeniably sweet about how easy it was to talk to him, how comfortable he made you feel despite the weight of who you were. He didn’t treat you like you were someone special just because of your last name. He treated you like you were... you. And that felt like a breath of fresh air.

“You know,” Matt said, his hand moving just a little closer to yours, “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. I can’t remember the last time I met someone who made me feel this... easy.”

You reached for your drink, your fingers brushing against his hand by accident, but the small touch made your heart race. “Yeah,” you said softly, “it’s rare to find someone who just gets it, isn’t it?”

Matt smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against your hand as if to reassure you. “Yeah, it is. But I’m glad I found that someone tonight.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the way he looked at you, the warmth in his gaze sending a flutter through your chest. He didn’t need to say anything more for you to understand what he meant. The connection between you two was undeniable, growing with every passing moment.

“Matt,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “this... it feels really nice, just being here with you. I didn’t expect to feel like this tonight.”

Matt's eyes softened even more, and you could see the shift in his expression—a kind of vulnerability that made your heart ache in the best way possible. He leaned a little closer, his voice gentle. “I didn’t expect to feel this way either, but I’m glad it’s happening.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. You felt your pulse quicken, and before you knew it, you were leaning in just a little, drawn to him in a way that felt almost magnetic. The tension between you two was palpable now, the air thick with the anticipation of something that could be even more than this easy conversation.

“You know,” Matt murmured, his voice low and warm, “I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are, Y/n. Not just because of who you are, but because of how you carry yourself. You’re... real. And I like that.”

You felt your cheeks flush, your heart swelling with the warmth of his words. “You’re making me blush,” you whispered, but there was a playful smile on your lips.

Matt chuckled softly, his hand brushing against yours once more, his fingers intertwining with yours. It was a simple touch, but it felt like everything in that moment. “I’m glad I could make you smile,” he said, his voice so sweet, it made your chest ache with affection.

You looked into his eyes, the connection between you two feeling more real with each passing second. "I like this," you whispered, your voice steady but soft. "I like us."

Matt’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand as he smiled at you, a little shy, but genuine. "Me too, Y/n. Me too."

For a long moment, you just looked at each other, the world around you fading into the background. There was no pressure, no expectations—just two people sharing a moment that felt... perfect. The warmth in your chest and the soft smile on Matt’s face told you that this was only the beginning of something good. Something that felt right.

And as the night drew to a close, neither of you seemed eager to part ways. It wasn’t just the drinks or the event that made this night special. It was the connection that had formed between you both, something sweet and real that you couldn’t deny.

"Maybe we can continue this... sometime?" Matt asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation. "Like a real date?"

You smiled, the flutter in your chest growing. "I’d like that," you whispered back, your heart racing a little faster at the thought.

Matt grinned, a warm, sincere smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Good. Because I think I’ve already decided—I’m not letting you go that easily."

And with that, you both knew that tonight wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the start of something new, something sweet, and perhaps even the beginning of something more.

﹒◟send me your requests and use an emoji if you want to stay anonymous. 𓂃

@estellesdoll

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @gemzyy

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celaenaeiln · 3 days ago

Note

are you still doing the post where you explain the ranking?? don’t mean to be impatient i was just wondering! (take your time) <3

@imperatrice21

Hey y'all! You asked and I deliver ;)

Alrighty let's get to it!!

So in THIS POST which is being referred to, I had created a ranking of Bruce's favorites in order from most to least.

And this was the ranking:

Dick

Damian

Cass

Jason/Tim (tie)

Tim/Jason (tie)

Steph

Now lets get into why.

Dick

I don't want to rehash why Dick is the favorite because I went into a lengthy explanation in the referred post as to why. It's not even close, and it's really explicitly stated that Dick's the one that Bruce likes the most. If you haven't read the post or want a refresher, I've already linked it but here it is again - OG POST

Infinite Crisis Issue #3

and also

JLA (1997) Issue #73

"The only time I ever feel pride is when I look at Nightwing. Sometimes I think he's the only thing I ever did right."

When something happens to Bruce, he only tells or trusts Dick with the information of what happened.

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #1

His only message was addressed to Dick. Like I could go on and on about this, but I feel my other Dick and Bruce posts give a pretty good idea on how Dick is special to Bruce.

And that's where we will leave the blatant adoration for Dick by Bruce and move on to the next person, cause really, 'nuff said.

Damian > Cass > Tim/Jason > Steph

Dami!! I also explained a bit of why Damian is so loved by Bruce through the comparison of Bruce's reaction to Damian death vs Bruce's reaction to Jason's death in the referenced post, but I never talked about why he's the next in line for favoritism.

Rather, it's a process of elimination of who does Bruce not like the least which we can find through how Bruce treats each member of the batfam and reacts to traumatic passings.

6. Stephanie

The least favorite is, unfortunately, very obvious and it's Stephanie.

Why is it obvious? Because Bruce treats Stephanie like utter shit. I have never seen him act so callously to a member of the bat crew aside from Stephanie. He literally didn't even care that Stephanie died in the War Games arc.

He didn't even want Stephanie in the first place, only using her to manipulate Tim back into being Robin because he knew Tim care about her and knew the dangers of being Robin so he wouldn't want her getting her.

Robin (1993) Issue #92

And so she becomes Robin, eventually.

But Bruce and Stephanie have an extremely strenuous relationship. Stephanie is very independent but Bruce like obedience. A long time ago he would have appreciated independence but not anymore, not when the result is death.

On the final mission of Stephanie being robin, Batman gives her repeated orders that she disobeys.

Robin (1993) Issue #128

Bruce becomes completely fed up with her and fires her.

Long story short, Stephanie steals one of Batman's plans for the city that involved Matches Malone. Steph doesn't know that this is one of Bruce's identities and the whole thing quickly goes way out of control and sets off a city-wide bloody war - AKA War Games. Stephanie gets caught by Black Mask who tortures her and she dies from her injuries in Leslie's Clinic when she escapes. But -

Batman (1940) Issue #633

And after this happens, this bitch sits down has a drink with Dick, who woke up from coma or something I can't remember (he was dealing with the aftermath of Tarantula which is why he wasn't around. Also Alfred threatened to kneecap him if he didn't get back on the bed) asks Bruce what he's gonna do -

And what does he do?

Batman (1940) Issue #634

Bitch. This is the only time (the War Games) Dick walked out on him after Bruce asks for help. Fun fact, Leslie intentionally let Stephanie die even though she could have saved her. She let her die to teach Batman a lesson about making kids Robins. It was later retconned that Leslie secretly saved her life but in the original, Stephanie was gone. And Batman straight up did not care.

He didn't care about Stephanie as a person and ignored her passing, completely unaffected.

So that's why Stephanie's 6th on the list.

5. & 4. Tim and Jason (Tie)

I don't want to rehash this again because I truly do not believe I can go into more detail about why they're a tie and who Bruce loves more.

THIS POST I made for anon who asked about the tie will be the answer. But I want to highlight @canthandlethishit 's reblog because in my post had said I didn't know why it feels like Tim was slightly less even though Bruce treated him better.

This line: "there’s a saying “the kid who cries gets the candy/milk” and sometimes being too easy to raise makes a kid receive less love & attention from their parents"

EXCELLENT! Fantastic analysis!!

3. Cass

Cass is tricky because because Bruce doesn't actually have a reason for liking her. He just does. I think what Bruce really loves about her is her dedication to making Gotham good.

Batgirl (2000) Issue #50

Batman & the Outsiders (2019) Issue #17

I think the reason Batman treats her so well is because she acts like a daughter to him. None of his children are so open with wanting affection as Cass is, ironically. And Bruce appreciates that. He's a dad and some part of him, behind all his walls, wants to be needed as dad which Cass does for him. She understands what he wants because she's good at that and loves him because she wants it too. Cass is Bruce's only daughter. So it's a combination of dedication to faith that Gotham City can be better as well as the fact that she's ready to genuinely be a daughter for him.

2. Damian

A big part of it is that he's Bruce's blood son. I know we make jokes about being wanted vs forced or whatever with Damian but Damian's arguments in those jokes do hold.

Aside from Dick, Bruce doesn't react to anyone as strongly as he reacts to Damian. When Damian was dying and died, he lost it. I would provide panels but it's basically the entirety of Batman and Robin (2011).

A part of it, is also that Bruce actually raised Damain. He and Dami struggled with each other for the longest time and still do, but that's his son.

Batman Incorporated (2012) Issue #10

The following panels of Bruce going crazy are, as you probably guess it, in the OG Post and the Eldest Daughter Syndrome Post where I talk a little about the effect Damian's death has on Batman.

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missmarveledsblog · 1 day ago

Text

A knight in Shining ...denim ( Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Reader )

summary : one day a woman shows up to the shop only for eddie to find out she the new receptionist changing his work space , life and feelings .

warning: mutual pinning , idiots in love , no upside down here ( soz ) jason carver is alive ( again soz ) sort of age gap ( eddies like early thirties where reader is mid twenties ) , 18+ no smut but allusions to it

It’s not that working wasn’t the bain of existence because he actually loved the shop , working on the cars listening to music of his own choosing even being able to squash some of the stupid assumptions people had about him although it was also the downside of working there was some people still thought he was the devil incarnate. Some of his old highschool associates could he even call them that would come in with minor or even non existent problems just to make some off handed or down right insult him . the snobby asshole who once we jocks now owning their own small town businesses thinking they were donald trump or some sort of multi billionaire , or they constantly bring up their successful marriages and families when eddie dates consisted on woman that preferred to keep him as a secret . life was still like high school to these fucks . then like a shift in the wind working during one of the hottest days of the year when he heard a clearing of a throat and sound of a knock. Pulling himself out from under the car only to have the wind knocked out of his lungs .

“ are you eddie ?” soft velvet voice hitting his ear drums like a piece of heaven on earth .

“ what can i do you for sweetheart ?” .

“ oh didn’t frank tell you i’m the new receptionist … i thought he told me you would show me around… i’m y/n by the way “ her brows furrowed in such an adorable way he almost melted to the spot .

“ you don’t mind if i just double check make sure you not some new hot thief that steals from the auto repair shops or i would be in so much shit “ only for a laugh to fall from her lips standing little taller making a pretty lady laugh was always an ego boost . the two stood patiently as frank suddenly remembered but eddie never blamed the guy he was getting older at first working there well it was a favour for his uncle wayne giving the two were buddies .

“ So check out although i don’t think you’ve been fully briefed in what the job entails” he winced slowly walking over to the office he swore one of these days he was going to tidy up . opening the door waiting to hear a gasp or for her to storm out and say not my problem .

“ holy shit “ was probably selling it lightly at the chaos of files everywhere . “ ok take what you need for today and i will do the rest “ she nodded walking more trying not to knock over the stacked boxes and create more of mess although it wasn’t like it would really make a difference. Eddie doing just that in truth he was still that whole the day even the first week waiting for her to run out of there. Only thing was he was not allowed step foot in the office until then . everytime she would open the door a little handing him out paperwork he needed or receipts til maybe the middle of the second week she finally opened the shutters on the small office which he honestly never even noticed they were shutters to begin with . then one day while he was eating lunch he watched her with a trolley carrying boxes into the garage only to see cleaning supplies while throwing out the near ancient ones . by the end of the month well it was like a whole other place , old furniture replaced in the waiting area , the break room was cleaned out and refreshed , even returning customers wondered if they were in the right place and word travelled fast the new changes to the shop , the new beautiful receptionist . which second part he was kinda sad she was thought of in such a way it was like his own greedy little secret .

Working day in and day out together for that time too became fast friends he almost smacked his head when he heard her blasting metallica in as she cleaned or how hard his mouth fell open when he found out she was franks granddaughter . which explained how she was able to get approval for everything so easily or why she didn’t run for the hill when she first saw the place. It was also a surprise to see steve harrington driving in giving that eddie already repaired the bmw the weekend just gone.

“ harrington “ he arched his brow .

“ the windshield wiper fell off that like safety thing right?” he asked looking around everywhere but at eddie.

“ fell off … did you pull this off “he gasp seeing the mangled state of piece in his hand.

“ no why would he do that now” robin voice called as she too was looking around the space.

“ you helped it wouldn’t have to do with the news of a certain lady that start working here would it ?” he mused looking at his close friends who in his opinion couldn’t lie for shit.

“ oh hey welcome would you guys like a cup of coffee “ the voice of angel rang out as the two stood goofy smiles on their faces.

“ sweetheart no need for the niceness these are my friends actually more like pest robin and steve this is y/n , y/n robin and steve” he chuckled.

“ oh nice to meet you both … did a bear attack your wipers “ her head tilted looking down at the scrap metal in Eddie's hands.

“ yeah i had to fight it off save my car “ steve nodded trying to appear strong and buff only for his friends faces to scrunch in disgust.

“ yeah right yogi bear , soo y/n how old are you … single ?” Robin smiled sweetly.

“ erm i’m 25 and yeah i’m single .. I spend so much time here to even find a boyfriend “ she laughed .

“ ignore those two .. you heading out ?”

“ oh thought i get us lunch was just coming out to see what you wanted .. or you guys wanted if your friends want to join”

“ yes “ ..”they were just leaving “ the three spoke in unison .

“ hey why don’t i come with you i know what they like and plus make a new friend “ robin linked arms already leading her out the door .

“ I taught her too well “ steve sighed .

“ yeah cause your swimming in the ladies lately” Eddie teased walking to the car trying to see where to even begin .

“ i’ll have you know i’ve a date for tonight munson “ .

“ so why are you flirting with my hot coworker harrington ?”

“ cause she hot plus i’m not the only one you do realise more repairs lately have be guys wrecking their cars on purpose to try and talk to her ?” steve snorted.

“ so you admit that you broke the windshield wiper … wait that why we’ve been so busy lately?” eddie turned his head to the side as steve nodded his head yes .

“ come on man she new and well she easy on the eyes and yeah she gonna be a hot ticket in town “ .

“ she not just a pretty face man , she funny and goofy and great music taste that dio album playing she brought that in from home and she friendly and kind makes the old gals feel like vip honestly she the best” eddie beaming smile only made steve eyes widened.

“ oh my god you love her”

“ dude i know her a month and couple of week i do not love her” scoffing pretending like it wasn’t close to it . which in his defense was a cruel joke on universe part to put her so close knowing a woman like that would never go for a guy like him, girls like that make guys like him the best friend or close friends it was a cruel thing but it was a fact he could already see unfolding . barely listening to steve drowning on, not even realising he was moved on to a new topic of conversation til the time past and the girls were back robin was more friendly then flirt must of picking up that y/n was straight well he thinks she was . steve and robin thought they could see it , the lingering touches or the fact her eyes would be on eddie or how they would quickly move before he could catch her bluntly checking him out .

It went on like that for weeks both looking when the other wasn’t or slightly flirty undertones of exchanges that they would brush off thinking they were reading too much into it . another thing it was always just at work it was like the friendship or whatever it was only extended to the walls of franks automobile repair shop not that the two didn’t want to like anytime they went to extend it ,they would chicken out or say something completely different . soon it was a year that had passed since y/n came to the shop , a year of trying to convince himself that he wasn’t in love or that he wasn’t good enough for the woman who gave him sweet words every single day . like the day she arrived it was hottest day of the year and like it was the universe was trying to kill him when she walked in the door wearing pair of shorts and tank top looking like one of those supermodels on the coke and pepsi commercials . he could feel his throat go dry and his mouth water trying not to stare at the way the shorts hugged her ass so right or how perfect her cleavage was in the tank top or how he was sure to melt and evaporate all in one. Then like the universe called he sensed the real devil in town . jason carver and his bum chum andy another two idiots who still thought they were in highschool .

“ I got these, would you check the inventory please “ he called as y/n gave him a nod and a quick good morning.

“ well looks like your still here huh munson and still the one fixing the cars , i thought you at least be manager or something “ that smug smirk on his face , the pearly veneers that his buddy never told him look ridiculous .

“ what can i do you for gentlemen”

“ it’s making weird noise cop told me get checked out or next time he’d give me a ticket.. Hey were the hot piece of ass that works here maybe i could service her while you service my car” he chuckled looking around .

“ her name is y/n not piece of ass and she working “ the glare if it could kill jason carver would fall to the ground dead , usually the comment never hurt shit he’s heard it all since he was a kid learned to grow tick skin but hearing them talk about y/n was different .

“ go get her then i wanna talk to her about the price of all this not that matters maybe throw her a bone give her taste of a good thing instead of being here with your deadbeat ass all time i mean i’m sure she nice to you all time cause she feels sorry for you “ he snickered as andy high fived him .

“ i mean i seen her man she definitely wouldn’t be into satan spawn here … you like her don’t you munson … what you think girl like that chooses to be here listening to these noise you call music “ andy snide smile as two found themselves hilarious but what they didn’t know was said woman was listening to everything, finding that part of her that wouldn’t end up in a orange jumpsuit . how dare they talk down to eddie like that one of the funniest , goofiest sweethearts that was basically sex on legs . how drooled over her work as she watched him bent over the hood of a car or how she had to clench her thighs when she saw his arm muscle contract along with the ink on his body . how dear these two personality void asswipes talk down to anyone when they looked like dollar store versions of wall street nope not in this world or the next would she let anyone talk down to eddie not on her watch . she didn’t even have a plan nor did she wanna even think of the consequences of what she was about to do it could wait another time . instead she came out of the closet before jason carver could even get anything out of his mouth she pulled eddie by his overalls and crashing her lips against his taking every single male in the room off guard including the one she kissed only to pinch his side to bring him to reality well it wasn’t reality for him , he was sure this was a dream because it was like so many of the ones he woke up painfully hard from . it had to be a dream because this felt too perfect , too right . like every nearvein his body was under her control as it came to life from just her touch .

“ oh shoot sorry i didn’t even notice you guys”the coy smile as she pulled back from clearing of a throat. It wasn’t a true lie she did actually forget the two were there after a while getting lost in the feeling and taste of eddie on her lips .

“ really the town freak”

“ really those highlights “ she shot back , “ those clothes i mean i get you guys got money but shit you got no personality as for eddie being a lowly mechanic he’s been running the place since he started , he is this place but you wouldn’t know that since you work for daddy “ she rolled her eyes .

“ so what your just some slut anyways “ .

“ ah as well as no personality , no brains either best you can do is slut ok my turn …. You rich boy never been told his whole like so well you been a prick all your life and who can blame you when toupee tommy which isn’t fooling anyone here bigs you up when your insult hurt as much as a feather … now do you want the car that clearly is compensation for the fact you got nothing going on down there or your free to leave” she batted her eyelashes while eddie on the other hand never though his feelings could grow even more.

“ your a receptionist why should i care what you say , your both trash literally a fuck and dump is all your worth “ .

“ and all your worth is nothing , yeah you may get girls but it’s for the money and even that isn’t worth sticking around for , which is why you have more girlfriends than you’ve had birthdays , oh and lets not pretend that you have actually friends because the second you go broke you will have no one not even toupee timmy who’s afraid to tell you those veneers make you look like a horse that died decades ago and now looks like a bad taxidermy job so now do you want the car fixed or do you wanna leave because those are your opinions my friend either learn some manners or drive to another place “ she smiled sweetly like andy didn’t like he was going to start crying suddenly the universe and eddie were great old school pals as looked weighing their options . through gritted teeth and almost killing him to say it but small town there wasn’t a luxury of going somewhere else and the other repair shop well he had a messy situation there too . through the whole interaction eddie stood looking at her like she save him and his whole family from a burning building or she hung the sun, moon and stars and after that fuck she did in his eyes. The two men stood usually quiet while eddie got to work it wasn’t a tough repair but with those two tried to do it themselves when it would of been a whole other mess . once paid and speeding the hell out of there as she wave ever so sweetly . like pride filled his body almost forgetting himself in the moment when he picked her up and spun her in a circle , placing his lips on her until he pulled back wide eyed thinking he overstepped the boundary that the other kiss was for show.

“ shit sorry .. fuck “ he pulled back cursing himself .

“ eddie..” she went to begin but he went on his own rant.

“ i am sorry i know you did it to get the guys off my back i stupidly though ..but why would a girl like you like a lo.. Ouch did you just pinch me “ he gasped probably a little over dramatic but then again it wouldn’t be eddie if he wasn’t .

“ yes because you were going to go on about being a lowly trailer park kid and shit ? wanna know what i think ?” she asked.

“ if it like what you told carver i’d rather you hit me with a wrench instead … here” he winced handing her the wrench making her roll her eyes she wasn’t new to deflecting humour she practically mastered it herself .

“ i see a man who knows how to appreciate things in life like friends and possession, one that even if he did have a ton of money would spend it on his friend than to show off what he had , one of those people that would make sure everyone is ok before himself , a funny silly man who enjoys entertaining those around him , big nerd but honestly nerds are hotter “ she winked . “ also if you haven’t gathered i kinda of kissed you first and it wasn’t fully for those guys but maybe my own selfish reason of wanting to kiss the hottest guy in town by a mile “ she added slowly walking towards him placing her soft hand on nap of his neck puling him down to her level so she could place a kiss on his lips .

“ i mean sometimes i do wanna hit you with the wrench but like ninety seven percent of the time i wanna do that” she pulled back only for him to walk over hitting the shutter before lifting her up .

“ well if we're showing off what we wanna do my little knight in shining ... denim let me really show you what i really wanna do with you “ a wolfish grin and new found confidence maybe the shop could shut earlier for the day .

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illbegottenfaith · 11 hours ago

Text

lucky pt 3 - theo nott x reader

Theo doesn’t seem to care about you, and you can only lie to yourself that it doesn’t bother you for so long

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - the final part! so happy to finally write a happy ending :’) wasn’t planning on writing this until my finals were over but um here we are 🙈

tropes/warnings - tw smoking, a lil slapstick comedy ft the other slytherin boys, slight platonic hurt/comfort, angst, soft ‘smut’ (quite mild idt it warrants an 18+ tag)

word count - 3.4k

Two can play a game.

A week had passed since you submitted your Potions project, and after that one night of Theo staying up to help you, things went back to going from bad to worse. What were once paltry tiffs had now disappeared altogether. Theo attended and left lessons as if you didn’t exist. And you supposed you didn’t. At least, not to him.

Ivy worried over you, bless her. She’d noticed how listless and distracted you’d gotten, how much more prone you were to staying holed up in your room, how exhausted you seemed by the most mundane tasks. But this was something even she couldn’t help with. No one could help, you decided mournfully, resting your head against your dorm’s cool window pane. So here you were, staring out the window at 6.30 am on a Monday morning with irritated and aching eyes after a restless night of tossing and turning.

That was when you decided that the only thing there was to be done in a situation like this was to do what you did best - going head-to-head with Theodore Nott. He wasn’t the only one who could play at being emotionally avoidant, and it would be a cold day in hell before you let Theodore Nott best you in anything, including this.

And ignore him you did. You didn’t know or care if he noticed, but soon your already limited interactions became highly unabsorbing and apathetic. You barely acknowledged him in your shared classes. You matched every careless toss of his head with one of your own. As little as Theo cared, you could care even less.

Finals came and went. The morning after your last paper Ivy came barging into your room, demanding you come for an end-of-semester gathering by the Great Lake the next day. No amount of begging or burying your head in your pillow seemed to deter her. She was determined to see you there even if she had to drag you out herself, the recluse that you had become. She finally left after you very unsportingly relented and unsuccessfully tossed a book at her head.

You were already regretting being worn down by the next morning when you were deciding what to wear. Was Theo going to be there? Not that it mattered. You weren't about to pick an outfit around a guy who may or may not be present.

You met Ivy and Katie near the castle entrance and once you started walking down to the lake, you started feeling better about your decision. The weather was surprisingly cooperative and it was perfect picnic weather, if a little windy. It was a little early, only shortly after breakfast, and the refreshments were still being set up. From the few that had already arrived, it seemed to be a rather intimate gathering of mostly familiar faces. If you were especially lucky, Theodore Nott might not make an appearance at all.

You watched a group of Slytherin boys flail and struggle to set up a folding picnic table and put a sheet over it. Enzo Berkshire had flopped onto the table to stop the sheet from flying off while the table groaned underneath his weight. Draco Malfoy was crossly telling him off and trying to get him to stand while Mattheo Riddle stood a little to the side, still frowning over the table's instructions. Draco had now moved onto threats when there was a terrible creaking sound and the table collapsed under Enzo.

"I was just about to say," Matheo started offhandedly, while Enzo moaned pitifully, "I don't think we put the table together right."

"I told you we should have waited for Theo."

Speak of the devil.

“Ladies,” Theo drawled from behind, in his appealingly lazy accent. You turned to see Theodore in a relaxed button-down folded at the elbow, wearing a simple but likely designer pair of black sunglasses, holding a red solo cup. You instinctively glanced at his tanned forearms before snapping your gaze back to his face. Did he notice? It was hard to tell with the sunglasses.

“Hi, Theo,” Ivy said awkwardly when you stubbornly refused to respond. “What's that you got there?”

"Punch. Enzo had me taste test it."

"Oh. Is it good?"

He gave a wry smile. You wanted to roll your eyes. You had no patience to tolerate his irritating posh affectations.

"A little strong for my taste, but it'll do."

"Have you seen Ivan?"

He waved his hand carelessly. “He’s…around.” He turned, peering in the distance. “Right. There he is, by the steps. He’s bringing the drinks.”

“I’ll go help him!” Before you could reel Ivy back in and threaten her to stay with you, she was already halfway down the path, heading straight for her boyfriend. You scowled, your impassive mask shattering. You turned back to see Theo grinning at you with his stupidly mysterious sunglasses and you shot him a dirty look.

“Nice weather we’re having, hm?”

You schooled your features and shrugged noncommittally. The silence stretched unbearably between the two of you. Theo vaguely gestured to the boys with his cup.

“I should help them with the table."

You stayed tight-lipped, refusing to give in to the sense of camaraderie he seemed to be trying to foster with you. After all, you weren't friends. He made sure of that.

As he set his cup down and started looking over the instructions with Mattheo, Ivy returned, drinks and Ivan in tow.

“Punch?”

You raised your eyebrows. Even from a distance, the bowl reeked of booze. Still, you accepted a cup, downing it even as your eyes watered. You pulled a face.

“Merlin, that’s awful. Pour me another.”

You ended up sitting in a cluster of lawn chairs around a picnic blanket with Ivy, Katie and some other girls in your year. You were all giddily tipsy and in very silly moods, gossiping and swapping terrible first date stories.

The drunker and drunker you got, the harder it was to pull your eyes away from Theo. After all, as your inhibitions dissolved, what was there to stop you from glaring a hole into his skull?

Not that he noticed. He was sitting some distance away with his own friends, examining the bottom of his red Solo cup disinterestedly. The other Slytherin boys were absorbed in a spirited game of Exploding Snap. In the unassuming midday sun creeping up on them, he was a refreshing sight, sleek and cool in ways mere mortals could only dream of wishing for.

You scoffed under your breath. What, were his childhood friends too boring for him? Was that it? Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? You had half a mind to strip naked and run into the lake. Maybe that would finally be captivating enough for the oh-so-hard-to-impress Theodore Nott.

How many other girls did he help write essays for late into the night, letting them doze, holding their hand? You shook yourself. He never held your hand. He helped you with your project, brought you breakfast, and that was it. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on the back of your hand. Whatever possessed you to think he held your hand?

The sky had gotten a little cloudy. Theo pulled off his sunglasses, blinking, and cast his eyes around, looking for a place to put them. Finally, he settled on hooking them on the open collar of his shirt and looked rather pleased with himself. It was almost endearing.

Your gut told you to avert your gaze, but you didn't, and the next second his gaze was on you. For the first time in weeks, his eyes met yours, intense and unforgiving. You told yourself it was just his gaunt complexion and bruise-like eyebags, but that didn’t stop your throat from seizing with some inexplicable want. Even when he moved away to rejoin his friends, your skin tingled; your body positively thrummed with it. Any hope of playing at sanity was out the window at this point. No, you just had to accept that the two of you would always be unfinished business.

But that was it - he wasn’t playing at this like you were. This was all a pretence for you; the unaffected stares, the nonchalant nods, the afterthought smiles. This was all just you pretending you weren’t watching his every move. Pretending your attention wouldn’t stay fixed on him in a room full of burning bodies.

But he wasn’t pretending. Not for one second.

All of a sudden, you felt queasy. You were going to be sick.

"Y/N?" Ivy was saying, looking concerned as you unsteadily got to your feet. You could feel the back of your neck prickling with Theo still watching you.

"I'm - I'm fine," you slurred, fanning yourself weakly. "Stay - I'm okay. Just...s'hot. Need to -"

You put your cup down somewhere, stumbling back to the castle as fast as you could, your head spinning as the ground wobbled dangerously under you. You weren't sure how but you somehow made it to your dorm, flung open the bathroom door and reached the toilet just as your stomach started emptying its contents.

You vaguely registered that you had never been this drunk - it felt like you were slipping in and out of consciousness. You were only distantly aware of a familiar pair of hands holding your hair back, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you heaved. It was a cathartic kind of release, a purging of all the toxic anxiety that had been festering inside of you. And just like that, a dam broke. You started crying, sobbing like the world was ending, slumped against your best friend.

“Oh, Y/N…”

“I don’t understand,” you choked out, leaning your forehead against the tiled bathroom wall. “Why doesn’t he like me anymore? Why does he h-hate me?”

Ivy delicately smoothed some of your unruly hair down. “He doesn’t hate you, honey.”

“I’m not a k-kid, Ivy," you hiccuped. "You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings.”

Ivy hugged you close as you sniffled. “I’m going to kill that asshole if Ivan doesn’t beat me to it.”

“No,” you said in a shaky voice, gingerly sitting up. “Promise me you won’t tell Ivan.”

“Y/N - “

“They’re friends! I don’t want to spoil that for him.”

“Trust me, if he knew what Theo was doing, he wouldn’t be feeling all that friendly.”

“Don’t, Ivy,” you pleaded. “This is just…it’s just between us. I’m fine, I swear.”

Ivy looked highly unconvinced. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Look, at least give me a week to work through this on my own, alright? Then you can sic your boyfriend on Nott.”

“You’ve already had your week. Weeks, in fact.”

“Ivy.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

You felt a lot more sober after throwing up. But you still weren't feeling up to returning to the party, so once you finally managed to shake Ivy off, you wandered the deserted halls of Hogwarts. Just like that one evening lifetimes ago, when Mattheo had insinuated Theo might have a thing for you in the library, you ended up at the Astronomy Tower.

It was peaceful. You could see why Theo liked to come up here to think. You looked up as you heard a scuffling sound from behind one of the pillars, near one of the stone arch windowsills. You walked over to find Theo sitting there, smoking, his long legs barely fitting across the length of the window. He didn't expect to see you either, if the way the cigarette was dangling from his lips was any indication.

“Put that out.”

It was the first thing you had said to him in weeks. You felt almost as surprised as he looked. He started, as if he had forgotten about the cigarette, and took another puff.

“I said,” you started again, half-heartedly raising your voice, “put that out.”

It was weak and unsurprisingly ineffective. If Theo picked up on what it truly was, a plea for normalcy, he didn’t let on.

Your already thin patience snapped. You stalked over, stealing the cigarette from his lax fingers. What you weren't expecting was Theo's fingers closing around your other wrist and firmly pulling you down to press his mouth hard against yours. It was a clumsy mess of teeth and tongues as you ungracefully reached for his arms to steady yourself. His grip lessened when he got the inkling you weren't about to pull away and sock him in the jaw. His hands drifted to your waist as the two of you fumbled for a more proper kiss. You could taste the lingering salt of the cigarette and your senses felt overwhelmed by the distinct feel of Theodore Nott.

“Tesoro -“ he wheezed, twisting away from where your hand had dropped to his bicep, the smouldering cigarette having singed through his shirt.

“Shit, sorry. How do you -?”

Theo plucked the cigarette from your hand and dropped it on the floor, grinding it with the heel of his shoe. He looked up to where you were still hovering above him before pulling you down into his lap by your hips. He grabbed your wrists, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you had to bite back a smile over how adorably particular he was.

“Telling me where to place my hands? And I thought I was the bossy one.”

Theo quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm just sick of waiting." He tipped his head back against the rough stone wall. "And...wanting."

You smoothed a thumb across his collarbone, not missing the way he shivered under your touch. “So what do you want, Nott?”

He tipped you forward, kissing you much more properly this time. You didn't bother pulling much away as you broke apart, whispering with your faces inches away.

“We're actually doing this.”

“Seems so.”

He cupped your face, swiping a thumb under your eyes as his expression flickered.

“Were you…crying?”

You sniffed, dragging his hand off your face, and looking away. "Just - allergies."

Theo blinked, watching your face with a stunned (and slightly dumb) expression as if you hadn't said anything.

“But you never cry.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Congratulations, Nott. You’re officially the first person to ever reduce me to tears.” You desperately hoped he would drop the subject. Just talking about it was enough to make you want to start sobbing again.

"Did someone say something to you? I swear I - it's not because of me, is it?"

Your face crumpling was the only confirmation he needed. “It was like you - I don’t know. Like you hated me, or something.”

Theo captured your hands in his own where they had slid down to his chest. “I….hate you?”

“Or something. Probably the something.”

“But - why? How? If anything, I’d say you hated me.”

Your lips parted as your brow furrowed. “What gave you that idea?”

“What gave me the - I don’t know, all the scowling? The glaring? The snide remarks? The bodily harm?”

You flushed at the memory of the Potions storeroom incident. You could kind of see his point. “That was one time.”

“You owe me new pants, by the way. New pants and a new di-“

You muffled his rant with a kiss and instantly felt him relax beneath you, the tension and annoyance draining from his limbs as he moulded your body to fit more perfectly against his. So eager, so insistent, so different from the past couple of weeks.

“I don’t know," you started once you pulled away. "This felt worse than hate. It felt like…like you couldn’t even be bothered to hate me." You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on where you were fidgeting with the edge of his shirt's collar. "As if that was how little you thought of me.”

"Mia cara," he sighed, almost dejectedly. "Small is the last thing I think of you." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, searching for the right words.

“I’m not good at expressing…fondness.”

“No. You don’t say.”

He wet his lips. You could see the smile he was holding back.

“I’m not good at being honest or direct. Everything - my mind, it’s a mess, it’s always about what I want, and how to get what I want, I never - I never meant to make you feel that way."

Maybe it was still all part of some elaborate scam. But sitting there with the rough stone arch digging into your sensitive skin, the distant scent of holding Theo's face in your hands like he was moonlight, you believed him. You didn't even have to try. You just did.

“I’m not used to playing the part of the fool, bella. But when I see you smile, or read, or fiddle with your hair…" He reached out to free the lock of hair you were nervously tugging on, "...I never feel more foolish.”

"I don't think I've ever hated you either, for the record," you said, smoothing out his shirt where you had crumpled it in your fists. "I might have thought I did, but..." you trailed off, looking into his mesmerisingly blue eyes. No, you decided softly, you never could hate the boy.

"I never thought anything could come of us. You were - you are - so brilliant. You're on the road to brilliant things. I was only going to get in the way. And...I don't think I could live with myself if I did." He glanced up and, seeing the crestfallen look on your face, hastily amended his statement.

"That, and you had no patience for pretty boys.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I have no patience for you, either.”

Theo grinned, shifting you up his lap, as if you could never be close enough to him. He looked so carefree you couldn’t hold back a small smile of your own. “You keep me so humble.”

“I try.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tracing burning expanses of skin, staring at each other like you could never get your fill. You’d occasionally press soft kisses down his neck and jaw while his hands would drift up your ribcage or down your thighs. Both of you moved at an unhurried pace, because now you had all the time in the world to have and hold each other.

“It’s getting late,” you murmured, hours later, now tucked into Theo’s side as you lightly traced shapes on his chest. It was pleasantly warm and given the late hour, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier. When he didn't respond, you lifted your head.

Beneath you, Theo breathed deeply and evenly, looking half-asleep. You rolled your eyes and gave him a hard jab in the ribs.

“Hey. Nott.”

Theo grunted, stirring, swatting your hand away. You grinned to yourself - annoying Theo would never lose its appeal. Eyes still closed, his hand haphazardly searched for you to once again pull you against him. You ignored his efforts, deliberately unhelpful.

“You need to pick another name, y’know. This whole last-name business isn’t going to fly as my girlfriend.”

You felt yourself unreasonably perk up over his words. “Your girlfriend? Me?”

He cracked an eye open. “I thought the exclusivity thing was obvious. You're a serial monogamist.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

Theo groaned, too tired to keep up with you. He rolled you onto your back and propped himself up with a forearm. You giggled softly, flustered by the heat in his gaze.

“Then I guess you’re lucky I like kissing you the best, amore.”

He dropped his head, and you got the distinct impression you could never tire of the feel of his hands and lips on you.

“What were you saying before?” Theo inquired, while his hands continued their distracting exploration under your clothes.

“It’s late.”

“Right.”

“You have Charms right after breakfast. We should,” your breath hitched, “um, go to bed.”

Theo grumbled something in the crook of your neck, sending the most delicious vibrations down your spine.

"Fine," you sighed, encircling your arms around his neck. "Five more minutes."

He barely made it in time for Charms the next morning.

#theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff

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cyarikaplease · 2 days ago

Text

breaking in the new house

husband!din x wife!reader

summary: you and din break in your new house on nevarro by fucking in every room

“Thanks for taking him for us!” you say, passing Grogu off to Greef Karga.

“Of course. I love this little critter. Is it date night tonight?” he says, taking him in his arms.

“You could say that,” Din says, placing a hand on the small of your back.

You recently moved into a new house on Nevarro following the Mandalorians retaking Mandalore and a spontaneous marriage ceremony for you and Din. And now that you have a stable place to live and don’t have to figure out creative ways to have sex without the Razor Crest, Din wants to fuck you in the new house; every room in the new house. But Karga doesn’t need to know about your plan.

“Stop!” you scold him, turning around and lightly slapping his bicep.

“Right… Well have fun you two!”

You wave goodbye to Grogu and turn to walk home. Din’s hand on the small of your back travels down to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

“Din! We’re still in public!”

“You know I don’t care.”

You sigh in response. “You ready, cyar’ika? I meant it when I said every room.”

“Minus Grogu’s room, of course.”

“We can just do it in the backyard to make up for that.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you laugh.

You walk up the path to your front door and step inside. Din wastes no time taking off his helmet because you can hear the hiss of the modulator behind you. That’s something you’re still getting used to; seeing his face regularly now that you’re married. Not that you’re complaining. You hear him set the helmet down on a shelf behind you and his hands grab your waist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes are filled with pure lush, pupils blown out so wide leaving only a small ring of brown.

“What order should we do this, cyar’ika?”

“Bedroom, living room, kitchen, bathroom? Maybe in the refresher at the end so we can wash up after?”

“Oh yeah you know we’re going to be filthy by the time we’re done,” he says, going in for a kiss.

His lips collide with yours and in an instant the kiss turns passionate. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it lightly and letting out a small groan. He needs to be inside you now.

Your bodies move back and forth in sync, inching your way to the bedroom with you shedding layers of clothing and being careful to not break the kiss. You arrive by the edge of the bed and you’re completely undressed by now but Din is not. He wants you to remove his armor and weapons for him; something he can’t get enough of every time you have sex. The way you respect his creed and treat his armor so gently does something for him. You start with the armor on his thighs, removing each piece and setting them down lightly on the nightstand and working your way up. You take off everything from his breastplate, shoulder pauldrons, belt, vibrances, holster, everything until he’s just in his flight suit. You notice the large bulge already forming against the fabric. He takes off his gloves, boots and flight suit, leaving them in a small pile on the floor. And there he stands in front of you, completely bare. Your riduur being naked in front of you shouldn’t be such a surprise but up until now, sex was always something spontaneous; wherever you could fit it in, leaving no time for him to remove everything and be completely vulnerable with you. But here with you in this house he feels safe. Your eyes trail up and down his form, taking in every detail from his scars, body hair, and tummy. And also his hard cock; roughly eight inches long, uncut with a patch of pubic hair he keeps neat. And it’s all for you.

“You like what you see, cyar’ika?”

“Always,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to take the lead. He falls to his knees in front of your legs and spreads them apart. He brings his hand to your belly and pushes lightly, prompting you to lay down. You oblige and rest your back on the bed, shivering in anticipation of his touch. His hand starts at your inner ankle, slowly moving upwards to your thigh. He pauses and stares at your cunt, already glistening for him and only him. He rests the side of his face on your inner thigh and asks, “Ready, riduur?”

“Please, Din,” you beg, aching for his touch already.

“So needy,” he chuckles, his warm breath tickling you.

He brings his tongue to your cunt, licking slowly up and down your sex. Your breath shudders every time he draws closer to your clit. With one last slow lick up your cunt he moves to your clit, sucking with determination to get you to cum. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it every time he adds more pressure. You arch your back in pleasure, writing against him as he keeps sucking on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Having him eat you out was rare for you, only taking off his helmet under the cover of darkness. And to be here married to him, helmet off with the lights on as he eats you out while you lay on a real bed is something you only thought possible in your dreams. You grind yourself against his face, aching for more contact, basically fucking yourself against his face at this point. With one last swirl of his tongue around your clit you’re coming, costing the lower half of his face with your release. It’s a big orgasm, making all of your limbs feel tingly with pleasure and you’re far from done with orgasms for the night.

He pulls away once the movement of your hips slows down and sits beside you on the bed, watching your chest rise and fall as you catch your breath.

“That was amazing, Din,” you breathe out, still a little shaky.

“There’s more where that came from, cyar’ika.”

You giggle and say, “Oh yeah? But now it’s your turn,” moving down to where he was on the floor.

You kneel beside the bed, taking his hard length in your hand and giving it a few strokes. You press kisses all over his thighs and groin, everywhere but his cock, making him ache for it. You bring your lips to the head of his cock when you decide he’s had enough teasing, swirling your tongue around the head and under the foreskin before taking his length into your mouth, as much as you can fit. You hear him curse and pant above you, followed by a strained, “cyar’ika”.

Your other hand cups his balls lightly and that’s when you feel him go crazy, completely desperate for more. You bob your head up and down, keeping one hand at the base of his cock and the other holding his balls a little tighter. You switch back and forth between taking his shaft in your mouth and playing with his foreskin with your tongue. His balls tense up in your hand and you know he’s about to cum. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, stroking his cock so the head rests against your flat tongue, getting ready to swallow his cum. With one last stroke of his shaft and squeeze in his he’s coming hard, letting out a jumbled string of groans, obscenities and your name. You swallow every last drop of his release before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting on the bed beside him, watching him catch his breath this time.

He grabs your waist and lays down on the bed, pulling you against him. His cock still hard and upright but that was to be expected. He’s been dreaming of his moment ever since he decided to move here.

“You take care of me so well, riduur,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“Of course,” you say, kissing him back before moving to straddle him. You sink down onto his cock slowly, both of you sighing at the familiar, warm feeling. His cock stretches your walls and brushes against your cervix; something you had to get used to at first, just the sheer size of him. But now it’s like you two were made for each other, like his cock is right where it belongs; buried inside your cunt.

You rock your hips back and forth and his hands grip the soft skin of your waist. Every moment you make buries his cock deeper inside you, your breasts bouncing perfectly for him. He removes one hand from your waist and brings it to the outline of one of your breasts, caressing it softly before moving to your nipple. He takes it between his fingertips and pinches it lightly, driving you insane and emitting a soft whine from you.

“Din, I’m gonna cum soon,” you whine as he moves from one breast to the other.

“Do it, cyar’ika. Soak my cock,” he says, desperate to feel your cunt squeeze his cock already.

With one last grind of your hips against him you’re coming hard, the head of his cock nestled against your cervix as you cum. Your cunt flutters and pulsates around him, gripping his cock in erratic patterns. The movement of your hips slows and comes to a stop as your high comes to an end. As for Din… he’s still completely hard.

“Alright next room, mesh’la,” he says, squeezing your ass.

You groan, not wanting him to leave your cunt just yet, but you know he’s gonna keep fucking you relentlessly. You hop off of him and stand, knees buckling underneath you already. He grabs your waist to keep you steady before leading you to the living room in front of the house. He grabs his helmet off the shelf and puts it back on, prompting you to ask, “What for?”

“Against the window, cyar’ika,” he says.

“Against the window?”

“Mhm. In case anyone needs to be reminded who you belong to.”

How can you say no to that?

You draw the curtains and look outside. The sun is starting to set. You situate yourself in front of the window and bend over, sticking your ass out for him and pressing your hands against the glass. He enters you slowly, letting out a modulated moan as he cock returns to where it belongs. Your breasts are flush against the window and your head is turned to the side as he thrusts in and out of you. You have a rush of adrenaline at the thought of anyone walking by and seeing you. The thought of someone seeing you take your riduur’s cock just adds to your arousal. It’s like he can sense what does to you, how wet that makes you.

“Dirty girl,” he says, “I bet you want someone to see us.”

You just moan in response because you know it’s true. He keeps his grip on your hips tight as he fucks you relentlessly, drawing back and slamming into you with force. Your legs are getting weaker underneath you and if you didn’t have the window to keep you upright you’d surely be collapsing right now. He reaches around you and brings a hand to your clit, rubbing small circles around it as he continues to plow you. And this is it, you’re gonna cum again for the third time tonight. Your third orgasm rips through you, even more intense than the previous ones. A warm tingling feeling originates at your core and spreads outwards, making your whole body feel euphoric. With one last slam of his hips into you he’s coming, too. He paints your insides with his cum, keeping you in place against the window before pulling out when he’s finished. You stand upright and lean back into him. He wraps his arms around you as you both catch your breath.

“Quick break?”

“Mhm. Quick,” you say.

He chuckles and lets go of you to shut the curtains and remove his helmet again. You sit down next to each other on the couch, both of you slick with sweat from the evening’s activities. He glances over at you, breathing deeply from being fucked hard and your nipples perked up, eyeing you up and down as you’re curled up next to him. His thighs are spread apart slightly and his cock is still hard in his lap, moving slightly as he breathes.

This is supposed to be your breather but… you can’t resist. You move into his lap and straddle him, sinking down on his cock again. You’re not really looking to fuck again. You just missed the feeling of him inside you. He doesn’t protest or say a word, understanding your actions completely. You lean forward and rest against his chest. He rubs your back and whispers words of praise in your ear.

“You’re doing so well, cyar’ika, taking my cock like this.”

You hum in response as you relax for a moment, reveling in the feeling of being full without any movement.

“Ready for the next room, mesh’la?” he asks, after you’ve both had a moment to rest.

“Mhm,” you sigh, reluctantly pulling yourself off him again.

You walk to the kitchen and decide where you want to do it. You could have him fuck over the sink but it’d be similar to the position you just did in the living room. You turn to the kitchen table and notice it’s the perfect height for you to splay out on top of it as he stands at the edge.

“Right here?” you ask, placing a hand on top of the table.

“Right where we eat, cyar’ika?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you feel then heat up. Maybe that wasn’t a good call. But instead he loves it, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.

“Dirty girl you are,” he says, kissing you, “On the table for me.”

You nod and feel a little stupid for getting embarrassed but nevertheless you climb on top of the table, your cunt at the edge of the table and your legs hanging over.

He bends down and licks another stripe up your cunt, something you weren’t expecting and it sends a shiver up your spine.

“What? I have to eat it on the table, cyar’ika,” he chuckles before returning to lap your cunt.

You sigh as his tongue tracing around your cunt and back up to your clit, finishing by sucking on it to get you nice and ready for him again. He stands and aligns himself with your entrance, pushing into you once more. But this time he pushes down on your abdomen as he fucks you, right where his cock is buried deep inside you. It’s intense; a newfound sensation you’ve never had before.

“Stars, Din, that feels good,” you moan as your pleasure mounds.

“Mhm, I bet, cyar’ika.”

He adds a bit more pressure, not enough to hurt you or bother you but just enough to make you feel even better. His thumb returns to your clit again and you feel like the floodgates are about to burst. And they do. Before you know it you’re squirting all over the kitchen table; all over him. And it makes him feral. Yes, you’ve squirted for him before but he’s never been able to see it without the helmet in the way and he can’t get enough.

“Yes, just like that, cyar’ika. Cum all over my cock,” he says, fucking you harder as he grows more and more obsessed. Your soft moans and cries fill the kitchen as he fucks you through your orgasm. And somehow, it’s more intense than the previous ones. You don’t know how that’s even possible but leave it to Din to make you feel this good.

He buries his cock into you down to the hilt and spills his release into you with a groan. His eyes are closed as he rides out his immense pleasure. You can’t believe the stamina he’s had tonight but then again you can. Your riduur is completely feral for you and only you. Completely delirious on making you cum over and over again on his cock.

He pulls out and stares at the absolute mess you both made. Your cunt is soaked with your release and his, dripping from the table and onto the floor. You sit up so you can see it for yourself, marveling at the sheer amount of liquid you both produced. He grabs your chin and kisses you again, tugging at your bottom lip and growling against you, “Good. fucking. girl.” finishing with another kiss before pulling away.

He helps you off the table as your legs just keep getting shakier as the night progresses. It’s time for the final round; in the refresher in the bathroom. You follow him into the bathroom and he turns the water on, letting the small space feel with steam. You step inside and let the water run down your body, soothing the soreness you’ve built up tonight. He wraps your arms around you from behind and pulls you into his chest.

“You’re so tired, cyar’ika,” he muses.

“Mhm. But I’m not giving up, not now,” you sigh.

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss by your ear, “Turn around for me.”

You do as you're told and turn around for him, facing him and staring down at his still hard cock. He bends down and picks you up by hooking his arms around your thighs, pinning you against the refresher wall and bringing you down onto his cock. It always amazes you how strong your riduur is, how he can pick you up and fuck you so effortlessly. He plows into you against the wall and you think back to all the different places and positions you’ve been fucked in tonight. You’re truly spent but that doesn’t mean you’re tapping out now, not at the final round.

Your bodies are pressed up against each other, warm and wet from the shower. His biceps are peppered in droplets of water as he keeps his grip on you tight, fucking you in truly an animalistic way. His hair is getting wet from the water above and you take a mental picture of this sight; the first time having sex in the refresher with Din.

The sounds in the small bathroom are truly obscene, between your moans, his grunts and the sound of skin colliding with skin you’re grateful no one is around. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming undone, writhing against him and the wall. He keeps his arms hooked tightly around your thighs as he cums, too, releasing his final load of the night inside you. He keeps you upright against the wall until he’s sure you’re done riding out your high before letting you down gently, helping you get steady on your feet.

“Thank you, cyar’ika,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“Of course, my love,” you say, “I had so much fun and I’m glad we finally have a home together.”

“Me, too,” he says, kissing your forehead.

He knows you’re exhausted and he wants to take care of you. So, he grabs the soap and starts washing you, lathering up your body as you hold onto him for stability. He rinses you off and washes himself quickly to get you into bed already. He helps you out of the refresher, keeping your hand in his as you step out. He grabs towels and wraps one around your shoulder and his own around his waist before walking you back to the bedroom. He helps you dry off, running the towel up and down your legs, across your back and the rest of your body. You both choose to sleep naked and pressed up against each other. You both crawl into bed, resting your head on his chest as he rubs your back and kisses the top of your head.

“I love you, cyar’ika,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too, Din,” you reply, feeling sleep start to overtake you.

“Oh!” he says suddenly, “We forgot the backyard.”

“Let it be a morning delight, my love,” you whisper.

“Deal,” he whispers back with one last kiss to the top of your head.

That was certainly a way to break in the new house.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction

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3liza · 1 day ago

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here's one reason i dont think this is applicable to normal grammar errors like wary/weary and using idioms wrong: whenever i hear a youtuber do this and then take the time to scroll through the comments, no one else is commenting about it. if i leave a comment about it, im the only one. in the notes the example of mispronouncing a pokemon is given, and i think that's way more likely to be done on purpose. but just being bad at speaking generally doesnt actually seem to generate engagement

ive started leaving comments for youtubers whose videos i click out of IF they seem like basically good people who are actually interested in making videos that arent garbage. ill be like "hey sorry im clicking out now, you obviously spent a lot of time on this and i appreciate it but 5:13-10:45 is just completely debunked misinformation, you need to de-ess your audio because it's painful, and the author your cited is a actually an antisemitic conspiracy theorist [citation]. will be checkin your vids out in the future though, have a good one". the single comment "increases engagement" or whatever but i have all notifications off on youtube on my viewing account so i can just throw grenades and run, i never get into arguments. if they're interested in improving their material then fine, maybe my comment will be useful, if they aren't then whatever.

watch hours seem to be the primary metric for youtube channel success and determines when you get monetized in the first place. so clicking out immediately when you're getting pissed off is the best way to "vote with your dollars" or whatever.

idk. maybe none of this shit matters. certainly big accounts wont pay any attention to you, but the smaller ones often will. i recently followed a small lets player who was using AI thumbnails for all his uploads and it genuinely was so confusing because every thumbnail looked the same and didn't show the actual game, often inventing monsters and scenes that weren't in the game at all. and i left a kind, patient comment about how this was uncool, and two days later the next thumbnail i saw from him was an actual screenshot. after a couple refreshes it switched to a third thumbnail that was AI again but showed the correct "type" of monster for the subject of the game, rather than a Krampus, which the AI thumbnail i saw first had initially shown. so he's at least A/B testing AI vs normal thumbnails. i clicked on the screenshot thumbnail because youtube creators get feedback about the A/B results on videos uploaded with multiple thumbnails.

@3liza Thoughts? I think it's bullshit but I wouldn't put it past some of the worst Youtube Grammar offenders.

#youtube #youtube grammar #long post

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pistatsia · 1 year ago

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Isagi Yoichi: problems with anger expression

Clickbait, right? One would think that what kind of anger expression problems could there be with a guy swearing on the field with war-crime level insults and joyfully bringing a child a few years younger to tears?

The kind where one derives from the the other.

Now, let's figure it out.

To do so, we'll have to go back to Isagi's novel (hoshi801_ translation is used for all of the quotes). From it, we know that Isagi grew up as a quiet and shy child. "He never gets into fights with his friends and never disobeys his teachers."

Nevertheless, it ended quite simply then - thanks to Noa, he learnt how to express his anger and negative feelings. Problem? Only on the football field. The novel says he "was fearless in running into his opponents, as if he had never been a crybaby."

He was winning, and what he liked best about football - his football, Noa's football - was the beauty of Noa’s playstyle brutality. Because that's what made it an acceptable outlet for him - fighting with friends is bad, arguing with teachers is not allowed - but on the football pitch you are free. You can be angry. Football became his safe space.

Except that then Isagi entered the root of all his troubles - Ichinan.

Even before it, the novel mentioned and emphasised Isagi's inability to express himself. For a while, despite this, his plans worked: the coaches let him play the way he wanted, and he didn't have to come into direct conflict with them.

But that trick didn't work in Ichinan - the dream school suddenly turned out to be somehow strange, and Isagi felt that he wasn't allowed to fulfil his potential here.

But no one on the team was unsatisfied by the current system.

Even before the conversation with the coach where he was ridiculed Isagi had tried to test the waters. Specifically to test - he doesn't say anything outright in fear of being rejected. "Uhm, Tada-kun… don’t you think there’s something wrong with this?" he asks his club mate very cautiously, while in thoughts having more direct “Huh? Am I the only one who thinks that this is ridiculous?”. It's written out separately in the novel that "he watches the expression on Tada's face to see how he'll react" - Isagi already has problems. He's already learnt that he can be rejected if his opinion doesn't coincide with the majority - especially since the conversation wasn't taking place in 'football territory', where he was more or less able to talk straight.

Having an opinion for Isagi means isolation.

But he still tries one last time - one that finally cracks him up, convincing him that the others know better and he just needs to be patient.

In the novel his friends are "Surprized, seeing the quiet and obedient Isagi talk to the coach" - again, he is used to keeping quiet and not risking. Still, he dares to - and is immediately ridiculed for allegedly trying to "show off".

And this is what finally kills in him the will to resist. Because losing his friends and football is more terrifying for him than losing himself.

What does the novel says about Isagi after this episode? "He is afraid of being disliked for being assertive", "always timid", "compliant". "When his friends get excited, Isagi would say something like this: “Uh, yeah… me too”."

"He just goes with the flow."

Isagi agrees with Tada's taste in girls, agrees to eat what he doesn't want to, pleases in every way possible just so he won't be abandoned. He obeys the coach's strategy, and even on the field - the only thing that gave him joy and was a safe place for him - he ends up obeying the rules his surroundings have imposed on him.

He doesn't try to argue, he doesn't try to prove anything - he just chooses the safest path, the one where he doesn't do anything and doesn't fight, but he stays safe. Not abandoned.

What's the conclusion?

Isagi doesn't know how to express anger at all. He just hasn't learnt it because he hasn't tried it. And most importantly, doesn't know how to express it correctly.

Why is it necessary (and important) to know how to anger correctly in the first place? The point is that for the mentality anger is a kind of marker that lets us know when our interests are violated and our needs are not satisfied. Which by its presence helps us to build boundaries and achieve what we need. Anger is the power and energy to change an unpleasant world to suit us and achieve our goals.

But Isagi was shamed for showing negative emotions and for any attempt to express himself. He was shown non-verbally that any expression of self and attempt to argue, even just a different opinion would be received grudgingly, that you had to agree on everything, that if you tried to argue you would be rejected and not only that, you would lose the football.

And Isagi tamps down the anger inside himself - he no longer stands up for himself, and holds back the anger to the last, storing it up inside for years.

He develops a ban on anger.

And in general, not just anger - any negative emotion. He is unable to express even the despair of losing to Kira correctly; he tries to suppress it, to muffle it, the novel explicitly states that he attempts to lock it up inside, but in the end, having overflowed, this despair against his will burst out in a scream. Isagi suppresses all negative feelings in general. Aside from the crying part, this repressed anger is evident even in the first chapter, when he imagines the goalkeeper in tears from defeat, and dreams of crushing Kira. Without saying it out loud, though.

And in that 'against his will' lies the main problem of why exactly anger needs to be lived out properly.

Because otherwise it'll spill out just like that scream - desperate, seething, expansive, and the worst part?

Uncontrollable.

What is the danger of not controlling the expression of anger? Why can't we just hide it inside and keep smiling, without causing anyone problems and without wasting the resources of our body on it, just adjusting? Yes, in doing so you lose your freedom of expression - so what?

Because anger doesn't disappear over time. It is put inside layer by layer, day by day.

And sooner or later you can't hold it back.

In life this rarely ends well: if a person holds themselves to a completely unhealthy level of control they may at some point experience an episode of derealisation - when repressed feelings become so abundant that the brain rolls out one of the strongest self-defence mechanisms - detachment. If it doesn't? One goes off the rails: he overreacts to the smallest of things, he is thrown from one-time hook-ups to drugs and alcohol. The accumulated anger begins to destroy from the insides.

But Isagi, as an adaptation specialist (unconsciously, most likely) has come up with a great answer to this, learnt from childhood and from the show with Noel Noa. Which one? Express anger where it would be considered normal.

Blue Lock with on-field swearing works for Isagi for many reasons at once. He got Bachira, who showed him that there's nothing wrong with expressing his angry-self - he'll be accepted, he would even be welcomed, it's okay to be angry! He got Chigiri and Kunigami, Nanase and Hiori, dozens of people accepting him no matter what (but in personal conflicts outside the field he usually still doesn't know how to behave - he prefers to withdraw and wait for things to resolve themselves - but that's for another time). Here, also, the issue of survival came into play, as expressions of anger and rage were cultivated by the Ego itself, sometimes specifically manipulating the players to do so.

There's also the application of the familiar pattern of his pre-Ichinan childhood ('I play football as rough as Noa - I'm doing well, I'm not alone, and I achieve my goals because it happens on the field, so it doesn't mean anything'), the general tense atmosphere, and a fair number of trigger characters who would drive even a saint to their grave (heh, Kaiser, heh). Isagi in general has more to do with football than almost all of Blue Lock's characters. Manifestations of anger and determination as a child (on the football field!)? Noa. Manifestations of them now? Blue Lock. He continues to use mechanisms familiar from childhood to protect himself, adapting them to new realities.

(basically, even the fact that Noa is around - who, again, once gave little Isagi the opportunity to express himself openly on the field - can have an impact on the escalation of Isagi's behaviour around Kaiser and Bastards. Whose presence and support is associated with a safe expression of himself)

like father like son

And uncontrollable anger bursts out, but for now like water from a cracked jug - in jolts, strong and those impossible to shut down, but from just one place. The swearing at the match and the opportunity to openly express himself and his objectives (remember how he shouted at Noa that his system doesn't allow him to score goals hahaha) allowed him to relax, to partially release the anger accumulated over the years - all without any realisation on his part. He doesn't even have to do anything - it all resolved itself. He's not being rejected, he's playing the way he wants to play and yet he's angry! That's great!

And everything seems to be fine, right?

The problem is that Blue Lock's setting just isn't going to work in the long run. Ego will be there for the rest of the project - another 2-3 months - and for training for the World Championship, for the Championship itself, and... that's it. The project ends, Isagi flies off to play in another country, but who can guarantee that the environment for such an expression of anger will be replicated there as well?

At one point, access to the field and, in principle, to the competitive and encouraging environment for such expressions of character in Blue Lock is bound to be cut off. There are gaps between seasons, injuries, end of career, and the simple fact that such expression depends on how much the coach allows to players - at some point Isagi may well be silenced.

And then all the accumulated, bubbling anger inside, which is now used to being expressed regularly, will spill out - and not on the safe field, where much can be blamed on adrenaline, but on his loved ones, his career and himself.

#gosh I'm so happy that I've started the blog #I can't show everything I want in terms of character analysis in my fics #and now I can do it here and it's so refreshing #blue lock analysis #bllk analysis #bllk #blue lock #isagi yoichi

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