#bc keeping that steady actually takes effort

[why-the-heck-not]

18.10.23, wednesday

gripping to my current mental health-levels with all my might bc can feel the seasonal plummet drafting its game plan for this years’ go time lol

things done over the last couple of days:

watched all 5 seasons of What We Do in The Shadows in 2 days

some hours of coding (didn’t rly have the study timer on but it’s like maybe 5-8h)

grocery store

[nekovmancer]

Hmm, how about your favorite overwatch characters with a tall reader?

Overwatch characters with a tall reader, featuring Ramattra, Junkrat, and Mauga

warnings: nsfw ahead! mentions and displays of size kink, dom/sub dynamics, nudity, degrading, sex, hatesex, masturbation etc etc

a/n: heyyy, anon! I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG *sniff sniff* Thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!! I will take this very opportunity to be a bit… naughty and make this hcs nsfw flavored (maybe these will be the ones making me less self conscious of my smut writing… we’re hoping so). Also!! Will write for different characters this turn, despite Ramattra ofc; he’s my soulmate, I can’t help but simp. *maybe I will do a version with Junker Queen, Ashe aaaand Ana later, rn I just wanted to give you this piece dkwajfk **reposting bc i guess my stupid try of posting during the afternoon plus being aesthetic FAILED KJDWKAF

OPEN FOR HEADCANON REQUESTS! Send yours here, but me mindful of my rules (I may write for other characters other them the listed if you ask nicely)

!! NSFW UNDER THE CUT ⚠︎ MINORS DNI

Ramattra

He was built to be tall, standing above the tropes as Anubis’ commander of a deadly army; a living weapon in all meanings. So it’s an admirable surprise to find someone who, despite not matching his fully extension, can almost face him directly  

He finds it… a bit challenging at first, also because you do challenge him with the unnerving comments you call opinions, and it’s so much worse when it ends up you were right all along

A human, who should be inferior to him not only in intellectual aspects, but in constitution as also, and it’s none of it at all? I mean, big fella is so mad at it that it’s actually a shame how much he gets turned on by all this hatred

And as despise grows inside him, burning his circuits by the memory of you alone, something else finds a room to sneak in, making these heated feelings even worse

How he would love to silence this clever tongue of yours whenever you used it against him, to have you swallow all of your words instead of him being the one to gulp his pride as trying to untangle the mess you made of him with your words only

Ramattra wants revenge on all the times you’ve made a fool of him, to let you know who is really above here; not only by the few inches that apart your heights, but to clearly state for once who’s the superior being

And when you dare to use your tongue against him again, an argument about to explode… let’s just say you both find it a better use. A much, much better one.

Now you’re the one to be taken by surprise, finding yourself fitting his length all the way down to your throat; a few gags here and there, but still your mouth circles his cock almost perfectly, as it was made for you and for you only. Well… you’re not sure about it, not even why a R-7000 of all omnics had a dick module installed nice and ready, but this was no time to ask, was it?

What you do know is how sensitive it is, for the way Ramattra flinches when your tongue touches his tip before running all the way down. You know he’s doing his best to keep his usual steadiness, stopping the grunts that are vocalized with a little static, after all, his pride was his to maintain unharmed; or as little as he could. The failing is obvious, but still it’s damn amusing to see how even under him, you got the upper hand nonetheless

That’s when he catches you grinning like a devil, your tongue swirling around and the warm wetness of your mouth driving him fucking insane; something you already did with no effort, but now… it’s divine as much as it’s wicked. A creature like you, a pathetic human with little care for danger sucking a goddamn Ravager out of his mind. Maybe he should give you more credit… Once he’s done, who knows, right now he can’t think of other thing but you, kneeling between his legs, taking him without a trouble; as you’ve desired this longer than he did

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he groans, fingers finding their way through your hair, hissing when he grabs a handful too close to the scalp, tight enough for your skin to burn in response. The reply is right there, on the tip of your tongue… but your grin just gets wider before you could come up with it. “Don’t act like you aren’t.”

Junkrat

When he looks up at you, it’s almost like you can see the stars sparkling in his eyes. Amazed is one way to describe it, but if he was the one in charge of choosing a word for this feeling it would totally be: SMASH! 

Definitely, Junkrat would love to be smashed by you. One recurrent and very dirty thought of his is to have you sitting on his face, dwarfing his frame with yours, until his moans were suffocated by your skin as he indecently runs his tongue all around your soft spots

He can’t help being a bit of a slut, actually. Always touchy and clingy, running his fingers around the lines on your palm, claiming how big your fingers are and then wondering how they would feel if you randomly smacked them right into his cheek. Oh, how sad it would be… and the great pain that would come… dude has a boner before he can think twice

A masochist and proud, thank you. To be spanked and have his pleasure denied by you? The thought of it already has him nuts! Junkrat is one who loves to be mistreated already, and by a stunning person such as yourself just makes it even better

Most of the time, you’re the one on top, and he insists it’s like this. If you’re riding him, you can totally use his neck for support, of course! Please, just do it with your big fucking hands and choke him until his face burns red. Hell, he’ll take everything with an enormous goofy smile to his lips, braincells going dead with each bounce of your hips making the pressure on his neck rougher and rougher

Pinning him against a wall is a MUST. He will blush and squirm pathetically as you lean on, barely making with a sloppy kiss before turning a mess of himself from how his whole body quivers in anticipation, a huge bulge to his pants that definitely will end up being rubbed on your thigh, perfectly fit between his legs; and even raising him a little bit

Eager to try something new, making quite a pervy genius as he comes up with toys you don’t even know that existed in shape and length, some of them his own making. Junkrat’s favorite by now is wax play, which has him trembling and almost imploding when the warm wax touches his skin, tracing patterns all along his back as he shivers and moans your name over and over. And, again, if you’re down for it he’ll beg for you to sit on top of him while you do it

Just. sit. on. him. But not on his lap, no: he wants you to be laying under you, to have his figure clouded by your shadow, at your full mercy and… yeah, also your chest is actually really really great to be seen from this angle. And your face, oh your face! It’s just one hundred times meaner when you stare at him from above, asking who’s your little slut

“IT’S ME! IT’S ME!”

Enjoys degrading much more than he should. At first you’re uneasy about saying such things, but again: Junkrat insists. He wants to hear you putting him in his place, calling him pet names that state you’re the one in control… he’s yours to be tortured until he’s crying out from pleasure. Still, he will beg for more

“A lil’ bit harder won’t hurt, y’know? Well- who am I trying to fool here? ‘Course it will hurt, bring it on!”

In the aftermath, he IS the little spoon, no point arguing. And with the height difference between you, his body fits much better in yours this way, so there isn’t a reason to complain, actually

Mauga

Dude is big already and always thought the little ones were so fun to ruin. So when you tag along with Tallon, standing a few inches under his shoulder length… a whole lot of new ideas instantly pop into his head. And boy, none of them are less than nasty

Mauga tries to corner you everytime, pinning you down a wall would be a statement, but… your faces are pretty much on the same level, so there’s no down here, and you easily brush him off around his first eleven tries. Well, plan B was to stay in front of you during missions and then ooopsieeee… falling down on top of you while so innocently trying to prevent you from being damaged. All of it for your well being, damn!

Reaper has scolded you both for it despite you having nothing to do with whatever Mauga thinks he’s doing with those stupid muscles, the obvious flirtation and that ridiculously charming smirk… oh, fuck him!

Even when you had a spare day to keep your mind cool, there he was, testing your nerves. You’re doing great on ignoring him, until the bastard shot a compliment to your body, and you did blush madly with each word he spoke evenly

“You have such beautiful long legs, y’know? Tch, you’d need a pair of big hands to smooth them right,” the most shameless smirk ever follows along, and despite you feel like smacking it out of Mauga’s face… you feel something tingling under your skin

Still, the best way to deal with a teaser is to not let them embarrass you. Direct confrontation should do, and despite your burning cheeks stating the contrary, you had the guts to stare right into his eyes and dare him to do it so, since he had hands big enough for the job

That’s how you ended up fucking. 

Before you knew it, your face was pressed against the wall, a cold contrast to Mauga’s fever pitched body behind you, pressing you further as his hand get rid of your pants, leaving the free way to skin to touch skin

Indeed, his hands were more than fitting the run along the extension of your tights, leaving nothing untouched as they reached for the inner parts, brushing against your core until you’re swallowing thick 

“Told ya’, darling. You just needed the right guy for it,” is it questionable that of all options you could have, he would be the right one? Yes. Would you contest him as his fingers teased you further? Absolutely not. You couldn’t care less for all the shit he had ever done as your underwear is pulled, thick fingers trailing their way between your folds as he already knew you for ages

All Mauga could think as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them inside and reaching for that sweet spot as his other hand muffles your fucking delicious moans, is how you’re a perfectly fit for each other. The way his body molds itself against yours, the little difference just makes it even perfect, how effortless you’ve given yourself to him… oh, he’s your soulmate, for sure

This man turns out to be absolutely obsessed with you, your body, your voice: everything. Both of his hearts are beating for you, and only you… and say toodaloo to your peace, ‘cause he won’t leave your heel any sooner 

[brotherwtf]

some age gap clegan bcs I'm honest to god going feral

(btw thanks to all of the people who wanted to see this, boosted my confidence a lot)

Gale first meets John when he turned 19, was introduced to the 38 year old Major when he was with his mother for dinner, all smooth smiles and friendly pats on the back when he had crowed at the sight of her.

"Your mama and I, we go way back. Would pick on me all the time during grade school, shocked to see you this far north," John had said, and Gale tries to ignore the way the timbre of his voice dislodges something deep in his stomach.

It was the first time his mother had smiled, genuinely, in a long time, and Gale couldn't help but feel that same joy at the way John smiles gently at him.

About a week later, Gale was beaten by his father with his mother watching, beaten until he had bruises and red welts over his arms and face. His mother had apologized profusely, promising Gale that something was going to get done, she was going to get help for them.

In the following days, John would come to the house every morning after Gale's mother left for work and take him to his classes at the university, or wherever Gale wanted to go.

"Your mama told me to look after you," John had said.

"I don't need looking after, I'm grown," Gale retorted, but couldn't help the way his stomach flipped every time John showed up at his door.

John took him everywhere he wanted, to museums and art exhibits and walks along the river, took him to a baseball game to explain the rules to him and force him to have some fun.

He would always appear looking dashing, if he wasn't in his uniform he was in perfectly pressed pants and a button up shirt, jacket slung from his fingers over his shoulder, and Gale actually started to look forward to their outings together.

Gale's father was often too hungover or still sleeping by the time John would come to pick Gale up, but one morning he was awake with the sun and saw Gale's bright smile when John's car rolled into their driveway. He slapped Gale, gripped his hair between his hands and called him a queer, called him all sorts of names for being excited to see a man come get him. Gale tried to push his father off of him, yelling at him to stop and trying his best not to cry.

John burst into the house, already had a key given to him by Gale's mother, and wrenched Gale's father off of him, punching him until he was bloody and unconscious. Gale begged for John to stop, grabbed his shoulders and pulled John off of his father's body, finally breaking down when John holds him gently and asks if he was okay

John takes him back to his place, a modest house for a man who lived alone and forces him to sit on the couch, allowing Gale to sob into his strong arms until he can only sniffle and whimper. Gale can't bring himself to let go of John, something big and strong and steady, and finds himself adjusting until his knees straddle John's hips, shoving his face into John's shoulder

John's hands are tense around him, not expecting the horribly intimate position Gale has put them in, arms still wrapped safely around Gale's shoulders. When Gale pulls away, he looks down at John with something akin to hunger.

"Wanna kiss you, John," Gale whispers and watches John's throat work as he swallows.

John shakes his head, taking his hands from Gale's shoulders and gently pushing him away.

"We can't Gale, you're too young," John tries to plead.

Gale would only whine, nudging his face closer to John's despite him trying to move away, still trying to put a valiant effort into keeping the space between them.

"I'm 19, I know what I want, and I want you, John," Gale whispers, moving his hands from John's shoulders to gently massage through his hair.

It's still so new to Gale, he had only just realized his deep rooted feelings for John when he had confronted Gale's father, and didn't know how he would survive without him. Even the way John's looking up at him with a wary expression is making Gale's stomach flip.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you," John asks, daringly moving his hands from their defensive position on Gale's shoulder to gently rest just above Gale's thighs.

The contact makes Gale shiver and he nods, leaning in ever closer so that their noses brush together.

"I want it, please kiss me, John," Gale whispers.

It feels like his world explodes when John tentatively closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together sweetly. Gale wants so desperately for John to go further, to open up his mouth and claim him as his, wants so desperately to be John's. He whimpers meekly against John's lips and it's a silent beg for John to go further, be rougher.

John does so perfectly, opens Gale's mouth with his tongue and gently allows himself to explore the space, taking in all of Gale's sighed whimpers or groans in the back of his throat.

Gale never had much experience with kissing, had gently kissed his high school girlfriends lips and had gotten so flushed afterwards he could barely look at her. If he could see what Gale was doing now, he would faint. John has his hands on Gale's waist, so large that his fingertips almost touch on Gale's lower back, holding Gale in place as he devours his lips.

John pulls away from Gale's lips and sighs, pressing their foreheads together and rubbing a gentle thumb on Gale's waist.

"I'm gonna protect you, Gale, no one's gonna hurt you while I'm still swinging," John whispers, lips ticking up in the slightest.

Gale laughs a little wetly, pressing their faces closer together so he can feel the stubble of John's mustache on his lip.

Eventually, Gale convinced his mother that he was going to stay with John, keeping the fact that he and John were far more than friends to himself until he was out of his family's grasp. He felt terrible for leaving her behind with his father, but she gushed with joy when she knew her son was going to be safe. She thanked John profusely for taking care of Gale, kissing him on the cheek and sobbing into a tight hug from Gale.

It takes some adjusting for Gale to get used to living with John, but he had spent so long under his care that it felt like second nature, almost.

some smut for these guys coming down the pipeline soon if y'all want to see it

[sergle]

(re: sssniperwolf and jacksfilms) It's laughable that she escalated it that hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure stalking him like that is illegal and it's terrifying regardless, but Jack said in a stream (can't remember which one) that he wasn't about bringing up past controversies of hers or cancelling. And now she shows up outside his house (wtf!!!). Like he was willing to only call her out for stealing and freebooting but she's gone and stalked him and Jack doesn't seem like the type of guy to take that shit. Actual WTF moment from her part. wild

omg long post below bc apparently I have opinions: YES!! THAT'S WHAT'S SO INCREDIBLE ABOUT THIS... Jack has been genuinely diligent about keeping things on-topic in his streams, and hasn't brought up any of her other Stuff, or anything Personal. Despite the fact that she kickstarted the whole thing by making it INCREDIBLY personal and attacking his physical appearance... His goal has been to call out and bring attention to content theft, and he's stuck with it. Dude's also cared about this for years, and she's not the first content thief he's criticized. He just hates the way that freebooting has become so accepted-- to the point where youtube praised her for "coming up with such creative video ideas"? Hey! Ew! Dude wasn't trying to get her cancelled though, there was no smear campaign of her character. He's been rallying to get her to CREDIT the creators that she relies on for all of her content. It would set a precedent for all other "react" channels on the platform for one of the biggest channels on youtube to actually give credit where credit is due. Or, god forbid, get permission first? It's not hard. It's already done the job of making some other people who do "react content" self-analyze whether or not their content is transformative, and to maybe care about crediting the creators they rely on for their genre to work. There is a way to make this kind of video that isn't so slimy. And making fun of her lackluster-at-best reactions is so far from even being a big deal. Bc she literally does just sit there and say nothing. Plus, his goal has a clear End built into it: if she started shouting out the creators she takes content from, and put links directly to their pages in her video descriptions, the job would be done! That's what he's asking her to do. Real bare minimum stuff. It legit would have been easy to steer away from the content theft and to also talk about her history of lying to her audience! her ghosting a dying kid with cancer who was a big fan of hers! the fact that she's been arrested for armed robbery! her history of transphobia! He would also get more clicks that way, which is what she claims is his sole goal- to get more clicks. I'll bring it up though! She's been a terrible person the whole time, and has kept a steady course of manipulating her audience of young children and/or, let's be completely honest, simps- into thinking that she's a Wholesome creator. (And now, into thinking she's an innocent victim.) All of the actual effort put in by her has gone toward optics, not the content she puts out. A carefully constructed online persona, for one, but also literal appearances. Jack totally can't say this, bc she already went off the handle and said the only reason he doesn't like her is bc he Hates To See A Woman Be Successful. But I can! That was a cheap shot for her to use that argument when, for once, it's not applicable! Much the opposite, even! Dudes online wouldn't go to bat for her if she didn't look the way she does. And it weakens any case she'd have against him by making baseless claims like that. She banks hugely on being an attractive woman to get her clicks/following. A massive amount of effort is put into her appearance. The makeup, the lip fillers, putting her hair in little pigtails, the chokers and tube tops, the big non-prescription Nerd Glasses, the thumbnails where she has her mouth open in That Expression?

I don't even have to say anything. But making a weird facial expression and putting your hair in pigtails aren't moral failings. Showing up at someone's real life home (whose address you shouldn't even have access to), filming the front of their house at night, doxxing them to your audience of millions of people? Because you were mad at them online? That is fully scary! Yeah girl I'm pretty sure that Jack can press charges! There is absolutely no way to take the moral highground now that she's literally stalked him, and doxxed his home. She tried to goad him and Erin (Jack's wife) out of the house, also, which creeps me out even more-- because what was she planning to do? The fact that she's been arrested for violent crime before does pop into my mind! lmao! Jack was streaming a game at the time that she was outside his home, and these clips of him, his friends, and Erin reacting in real time to what is genuinely a scary situation have been taken down in case he needs to use them in legal action. Shit is legitimately serious!

[beanghostprincess]

Weird self indulgent bullcrap but hear me out okay-

Seraphim Buggy.

The strawhats get to Egghead and there's so much going on, it's wild and crazy and things start calming down after a bit, but then one group manages to find a tube in the far back. Luffy is staring HARD at the little body, battered and bloodied, white hair floating like a curtain in the solution, but the round red nose is a huge give away. He recognizes that nose. He recognizes that face.

"Is that... Buggy?" Nami is confused, hesitant. Zoro frowns at the tube, at the injuries on the child's body, bruises and scrapes and filth.

Luffy is silent before he hauls back and punches the tube with a Haki coated fist. The others yelp, scold him, Chopper shrieks bc they don't know if that will hurt the kid, but-

It doesn't even crack.

They stare.

Franky and Chopper dive to the control panel to try releasing the child, while Luffy is still staring at the unconscious body. Usopp is equally quiet, both assessing and reaching out. They know Buggy in varying amounts, but absolutely nothing about this kid feels Right. There's a wickedly sharp undercurrent, even unconscious, that makes even Luffy wary.

They get him out, he's still unconscious, but he's safe. Chopper begins working on patching his wounds up, and midway through the kid's presence locks down to near nothing before white-gold eyes snap open. Luffy meets the gaze easily, inclines his head slightly, seeing the minute tension the ripples across the tiny clown's frame. S-Buggy blinks for a moment, then reaches out.

Luffy let's him touch the hat.

The kid is silent for a moment before he croaks a soft "bro...ther..."

They take him with them. Over the course of it all, they find out why the kid was locked away in stasis, learn just what they released from the tube, but the little seraphim is so taken with Luffy and is so happy to just cling and be clung to that they have issues believing that THIS is the demon the others were mentioning, the monster that had been locked away for everyone's safety. It doesn't help that this is BUGGY and any iteration of the clown being powerful just seems ridiculous.

Then something happens. And little S-Buggy causes a near apocalyptic level of damage.

None of the crew is killed in the rampage, none so much as injured by the little jester boy, but it begins painting things in a new light.

By the end of it all, as they're leaving, Luffy tells the crew to contact the Cross Guild. "A pirate ship isn't safe for kids," he says with finality. They nod. He keeps S-Bug distracted, they actually make efforts to AVOID fighting, miserable though it leaves some, and they soon meet up with the Guild.

"Uncle," Luffy calls out, shocking everyone in earshot, especially when Buggy greets him back.

Luffy knows a lot more about Buggy and Shanks' childhoods than most do, pieced together from times when he was small and begging Shanks to bring him with the crew, when he and Buggy had time spent together, especially on the way to Marineford. So when he saw this like Seraphim, felt the Haki, saw the damage, he knew this was out of his wheelhouse. He was going to be King of the Pirates, not because he idolized Gol D. Roger, but because he was going to be better than him.

By Davy Jones as his witness, he would be better.

Buggy is mildly annoyed, confused, exasperated, but then Luffy meets his eyes dead on, steady, and says "He hasn't learned control yet."

And suddenly, Buggy understands. He winces. Hisses through his teeth. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

"No Red, then?"

"No. But he saw my hat, called me brother."

"Fucking hell."

"A ship is no place for a kid," Luffy says, voice surprisingly mature to most who know him. "But an island..."

"Yeah," Buggy sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Shit. Yeah, an island is safer. Has he imprinted?"

"I dunno, but he's pretty docile if there's no perceived threat."

Buggy groans, but opens his arms to take the child, giving the kid warning of touch, an open offer. The little seraphim hesitates for a moment before diving towards the older pirate.

Crocodile, Mihawk, and the strawhats all watch on in varying stages of confusion while the two captains talk.

There are many questions to be asked, curiosities to be quenched, but for now? Karai Bari offers docking overnight, and a new resident is welcomed to the island.

Right now I can only think about,, How cute a seraphim Buggy would be,, And also, Buggy and Luffy's relationship here?? My beloveds 😭 Everyone is so confused and doesn't understand why they know so much about each other and get along so well because Luffy is the master of never talking about his past unless he's asked,, Really happy this little Buggy can be with Buggy, though, always saying Cross Guild as dads with the Seraphims is an amazing concept.

[koushuwu]

» 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 *:･ﾟ✧

» 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kageyama tobio x reader | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1,7k | hq masterlist

» 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you crashed at tobio’s place in italy on a vacation, he was contempt to sleep on the couch. but you, on the other hand, was having none of that.

» 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): fluff, slight angst i guess, sharing a bed, best friends younger brother, suggestive content, a lot of feelings bc i’m emotional, rushed ending (sorry), no editing we die like neji. lmk if i missed something.

the first time kageyama got you in his bed, he could have sworn he might actually die. it didn’t mean anything. two people can sleep next to each other, without it meaning anything. right? right. that’s what you’d said when you told him it was fine, sharing the bed. he really hadn’t meant for it to happen. he’d been contempt with taking the couch while you were here, visiting him in Italy. that’s what he’d planned to do all along when you’d asked if you could stay with him for a while, on vacation.

you, on the other hand, weren’t having it. the first night, he’d been rigid. impossible to convince when you said you’d take the couch. and so he took the couch. the next night, you’d tried again, with the same result. and then the third. but on the fourth night, you decided to try a different tactic.

“i’m not asking you to switch places with me tonight,” you’d said. you looked at him with a look that he couldn’t quite place.

“no?” he questioned instead, deciding instead to just be relieved that you’d finally given up. it wasn’t that he particularly enjoyed sleeping on his couch. but the sole implication that he might even consider leaving you to sleep on the couch while he took the bed? you of all people? that was simply not going to happen. ever. he’d much rather lie on his couch every single night with nothing but his own thoughts and longings, knowing you were just beyond the wall, soundly sleeping between his sheets, than let you be uncomfortable for his benefit.

“nope,” you agreed lightly. tobio was relieved but then you spoke again and the air was all but knocked from his lungs. “you’re clearly not going to agree, so let’s share the bed instead.”

“what?” he asked, breathless. as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. he mustn’t’ve. because he could have sworn you just suggested sharing a bed with him. him. tobio. your friend's brother. her younger brother at that. that couldn’t possibly be true.

“yeah,” you said, as if what you’d suggested was the most normal thing in the entire world. which it wasn’t, by the way. “it’s a double size bed. it’ll fit us both.” so he really did hear you correctly. he blinked once. swallowed. took a breath. trying to steady himself.

“no.”

“yes it will,” you said, and it took a second before tobio understood what you meant. it would fit the both of you. but it wasn’t going to. not gonna happen. it really wasn’t like he’d prefer the bed. it wasn’t like he hadn’t dreamt of sharing a bed with you. as if he hadn’t laid awake for countless hours, imagining you in his arms until it arised an entirely different, very physical problem than just the sleeplessness.

“no, i meant no. we’re not sharing the bed,” he said, clarifying. his voice felt thick. like it may betray him if he didn’t keep it leashed with everything that he had. because honestly. truthfully. he wanted to share the bed with you. he wanted to lie next to you. to smell you all around him. to put an arm around you and hold you close to his chest. he wanted to, but–

“why not?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“because–” his voice trailed off, needing a moment to steady his voice. to keep his wants in check. to come up with a good enough reason, that didn’t entail him confessing the feelings he’s harbored for you, since before he even had the words to describe what it was. but of course, you picked up on his hesitation and crossed your arms.

“go on,” you prompted. shit.

“what about miwa?” he said in a last ditch effort to save himself, and even as the words crossed his lips, he knew it sounded absurd. what was he even insinuating? he didn’t know. he just knew that he couldn’t risk it. it was dangerous at best and he no matter what he wanted, he couldn’t just take such a chance. he couldn’t. right?

“what about her? she’s not here, tobio,” you said. your gaze searched his face, for what, he didn’t know. but he hoped whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it. he really, really hoped you wouldn’t find it. “it’s not like we’ll be taking her sleeping spot from her,” you said, and tobio almost heaved a relieved sigh. you didn’t seem to notice the potential implication of bringing up his sister to you. her best friend.

“no, i know, but–”

“it’s just sleeping,” you argued, cutting him off. it was a wonder how you managed to do that, considering how soft the words were, when you spoke them. as they settled in the air between you two. and even as tobio felt something clench in his chest, this was the best possible thing you could have said. because at least it reminded him to keep both feet on the ground. reminded him that what you were suggesting were just that. sleeping.

“i know,” he repeated. and he did. he did know. he did. but even then, it would be impossible for him to keep his feelings under wraps when he’d have you so close that he could smell you. touch you if he just reached out. there was simply no way. when even the thought of you in his bed in the next room could do things to him. he didn’t even dare imagine what it would do to him to be right there next to you. then you stepped back, averting your gaze. the hold you had around yourself tightened slightly, and when you spoke, tobio felt his whole world crumble.

“does it really repulse you that much to simply sleep next to me?”

“what? no! no, that’s not it.” tobio stepped forward. hands itching to reach out. to grab you. to hold you. to– but he didn’t. because was scared. scared what would happen. how you’d react if he did. how he would react if he held you close to his chest. how–

“okay. so what's the issue?” you said, voice now hardened into something firmer. and when you looked at him, your eyes matched your tone. he couldn’t be sure if you were mad. or frustrated. or scolding him like a child. probably the latter, he ruefully had to admit. “just give me one good reason and i’ll drop it.”

“i–” he swallowed. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t.

“you don’t have any, am i right?” you asked, when he didn’t continue. he looked at the floor, unable to meet your gaze when you carried on. “i just don’t want you ruining your body and your sleep by staying on the couch because of me. we’re just going to be sleeping. people can sleep next to each other without it having to mean anything. i’m not taking no for an answer this time!”

“okay,” he said. defeated. and honestly, it wasn’t like he wasn’t happy to sleep in his own bed instead of the couch. he was. but he was also scared, even as he finally caved. “okay. i get it. we can share.”

and that was how he ended up in bed with you. his childhood crush. but not just that. the woman he was still very much in love with. his sister’s best friend too. and he was sure, absolutely certain, that this night would be his last. or maybe he’d already had his last and this was some peculiar amalgamation between heaven and hell, designed just for him.

you looked so peaceful while you slept. tobio’s gaze traced the features of your sleeping face. the way your lips parted slightly. your eyelids softly closed. the way your eyelashes fanned out over your cheekbones, and how the crease between your eyebrows smoothed out entirely. it was definitely heaven, that was for sure. but even though you were right there, looking like all of his dreams come true, he couldn’t touch you. couldn’t kiss youz couldn’t breathe you in. couldn’t put his arms around you. worse yet, he couldn’t even think about you. because thinking about you, would bring him nothing but trouble. so torturous hell it was indeed too.

it was safe to say, that tobio would not be getting much sleep that night. he felt fidgety, and his brain kept spinning, and spinning, and spinning, and spinning. more than once did he close his eyes, hoping to drift off, and more than once he found himself watching you with tired, aching eyes. he was tired. so tired. but yet, he couldn’t calm down. for what felt like hours, he just watched you, unnervingly aware of his own breathing. his body. and yours. all to aware of how the bed moved whenever he did, even the slightest of shifting his position. seconds, minutes and hours to tick by painfully slow, but at one point, he closed his eyes and flitted off into a light sleep.

something pressed against tobio’s front. something warm. something that smelled nice. you. his eyes opened wide when he remembered where he was. or rather who was here with him. your back was pressed against him and his arm draped around your middle. you must’ve turned around while he’d slept, and somehow you’d ended up in his arms. you were right there. right there. and you shifted against him, pressing further up against the length of his body. and the length of something else. the sensation all making him suck in a breath, that he quickly tried to disguise out of fear that it would wake you up.he should move. he should let go. shoot back. or maybe even shake you, and allow you do move away from him. but then you nestled even further against him and he couldn’t. he really should. but he couldn’t. not entirely. but he could loosen his grip at the very least. let happen what would happen. if you stayed, you stayed. if you moved, you moved. that was a nice compromise, he convinced himself. but truly, he simply just wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. and so he did. or he tried, but your groggy voice startled him, all attempts at giving you space, clattering to the floor when you spoke.

“don’t let go. it’s nice.” and it was probably safe to say, that even then, this night, despite being both heaven at hell, was undoubtedly the best night of tobio’s entire life.

[jut-and-dae-enthusiast]

You Feel Like //h.j.s

pairing: idol!jisung x fem!reader I genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers I Warnings: talk of anxiety, mention of sasaengs (kinda just wanted to be sure to put it here), use of pet names (baby, lovey), mc gets very drunk, im experiencing hanji brain rot and this is the product, y/n is written from the perspective of being plus sized but it's not a plot point bc it doesn't need to be :)

word count: 4.8k

a/n: hello everyone! Just a heads up in case it isn't explained well enough in the beginning here: the use of the name "Han" is in reference to like his stage name, while "Jisung" is in reference to him as just a normal human. Apologies if that gets confusing but I thought the idea was cool. :) Also the title comes from this song, as I feel like the song fits the vibe. titles are hard. thank you. i love u.

reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

If you spent any amount of time with him, you would know there are two very distinct sides to Han Jisung. 

First, there was Han. This is where the performer side of him lived. The side that everyone knew. The cocky faces he makes when he dances, the way he raps like he could bring any person in the room to their knees in that moment. A loud voice, drawing the whole room’s attention to him with a laugh that almost immediately followed anything he said. Witty and funny, goofy and smiley. This is Han.

Then, there’s Jisung. This is where the domestic side of him lived. The side that only those closest to him had the honor of seeing. Quiet mornings, gentle humming as he writes lyrics on notebook paper or napkins or anything a pen could mark. A dark room with only soft fairy lights and a tv screen playing his favorite anime or kdrama. Cozy hoodies and soft smiles, content in the calmness. Wide eyes and puffy cheeks, still goofy but only because that’s who he is. This is Jisung. 

Your first encounter, of course, was with Han. It was a Friday night and you had gone to do karaoke with some friends to try and blow off steam. After hours of screaming your favorite songs, you were ready to go home. Your friends, however, were still going steady. So, you decided to step out for a moment. Stepping out of the room, you heard a group making their way down the opposite hall, the one in front loudly cracking jokes. You could see some dyed hair poking out from the bottom of his beanie, threatening to fall into his eyes. To your horror, you realized they had looped back around and were now coming directly towards you. Unsure of what to do, you turned and faced the wall, hoping they would just glide past you the way all groups of attractive men tended to. You saw the group move on and sighed with relief, turning back around. However, you were suddenly face to face with the loud one in the beanie. You blinked in surprise, expecting him to have been with his little gang. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, scanning your face carefully. His eyes were so big it seemed like they were drinking you in even though he wasn’t trying. He’s really pretty, you thought to yourself, back pressed gently to the wall. He gave you a look as if to ask you again and you nodded, clearing your throat gently. 

“Yes! Uh, just taking a little break. They’re hard to keep up with.” You point to the door and, as if they could sense it, your friend tried to hit a high note that sounded like a cry of pain. The stranger chuckled, looking down at his feet while nodding. 

“I just… I felt like you needed someone to check in with you. People don’t usually stand with their nose pressed to the wall.” He teased a bit, holding back a smirk. Your cheeks flushed pink, head turning to look down the hall in an effort to conceal it. 

“Well, thanks… for noticing.” You mutter, clenching your trembling fingers into a fist. 

“Han! What’re you doing?” A voice called from a room down the hall. 

“I’ll be just a sec!” He called back and sighed. “I didn’t catch your name. As you heard, I’m Han. Actually Han Jisung. My friends call me either of those. Or both. Or whatever.” He rambled and you could see the tips of his ears dusting pink. 

“I’m y/n.” You replied softly, a smile resting on your lips as you watched him, intrigued. 

“I hope we meet again, y/n.” He smiled wide and you nearly melted. Everything about him was radiant. He turned to walk down the hall and you felt him slipping from your fingers. You knew you would never meet him again. That this must have been some type of divine intervention, bringing you two together. 

“W-wait!” You called after him, causing him to turn and look at you curiously. You reached into your purse and frantically dug for a pen and some sort of paper. You pulled out an old receipt and scribbled your phone number on the back along with your name. “I don’t think fate will be kind enough to shove us together like this again.” You breathed as you handed the paper to him, face red. He looked down at your extended hand and a smile twitched on his lips. After thinking for a moment, he nodded and pocketed the paper gently, flashing you a smile. 

“I’ll text you, y/n.” He said softly before turning and disappearing into the room with his friends. You slowly made your way back to your own group, trying to catch your breath. Your friends were oblivious, telling you to sing this group song with them. You nodded and grabbed a tambourine, trying to not obsess over the question of whether Han had already texted you or not. 

It was late when you finally got home, phone securely in your hand. You even turned the ringer on, which you never did, so that you wouldn’t miss his message. However, no message came that night. Or in the morning. Or even over the next few days. You had become convinced that he’d just thrown the paper away when your phone pinged. 

Unknown Number: hey sorry it took a sec but this is han

y/n: oh hey! Its ok haha no worries 

Han: also thanks for giving me ur number. I was too scared to ask for it fr.

y/n: lol glad to know i wasnt the only one 

You grew fairly close with him from that moment, the two of you texting almost constantly. 

 

The first time you hung out with Han, he had invited you to hang out with him and his friends (which you found out meant his bandmates) at his apartment. When you found the apartment building, you tried to enter but the door was locked. Pulling out your phone, you called Han. 

“Hey! You aren’t lost, right?” Han greeted and you could perfectly imagine the smile on his face.

“No, I’m at your building. I just can’t get in.” You explained, looking up the side as if you could see him. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. We have to keep our building extra secure, especially after an incident we had a bit ago.” You could hear the way even thinking about it made him anxious, whatever it was. “I’m coming down to let you in, so give me like three minutes.” 

“Okay, I’m timing you.” You teased and could hear him breathe out a laugh. 

“I better hurry then, huh?” He laughed and you heard the elevator ding in the background. When he arrived at the door, he pushed it open and flashed you a wide smile. 

“Two minutes and forty seconds. Close call, Jisung.” You chuckled as you walked through the open door, falling in step beside him quietly. 

“I think the elevator deserves all of the credit for that.” He shrugs, pushing the call button and standing beside you with his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for coming, by the way.” He smiled softly, looking at you with happy eyes. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” You responded softly, taking note of the static feeling between the two of you. It was tugging, drawing you in with every breath. The sharp ding of the elevator arriving drew you back to reality, light from the empty elevator flooding into the dark lobby. Han gestures for you to go first, bowing politely. 

His apartment was near the top of the building, so the elevator ride was quiet. But, somehow, it wasn’t awkward. Silence with him felt comfortable, safe almost. He seemed to have realized at the same time, looking at you with a wondering expression. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but was cut off by the opening of the elevator doors. 

The apartment was definitely one men lived in, if you can believe that. You chuckled to yourself at the corner of the room dedicated to various at-home workout equipment. But it absolutely could have been worse. 

“Guys, this is my friend y/n. She was the one I met at karaoke a couple weeks ago.” Han introduced you to the group. The group all greeted you with soft smiles from where they were and invited you over to sit with them. You recognized some of their faces from the videos you had seen, but it was a little overwhelming trying to learn who was who. Felix eagerly scooted beside you and started talking with you, which you were grateful for. Han sat on the other side of you even though he was fully engaged in a conversation with Hyunjin. Han was the light in the room and everyone was drawn into it, laughing heartily at his jokes or hanging on his every word when he told a story. They teased him, of course, as friends do, and he would loudly defend himself and make everyone laugh again. 

You sat back quietly and observed, taking note of the dynamics that naturally lived in the group. Started to pick out the ones who subconsciously stuck together, who people directed their conversations towards most often. It was fascinating, so much so that you didn’t even notice Han looking towards you and asking you a question. He poked your knee gently, drawing your attention back on him. 

“You good?” He whispered, looking for any sign of anxiety or discomfort on your face. When you nodded happily, you saw his shoulders loosen. “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want the others to be in this conversation. Not that any of them even cared or noticed, too wrapped up in eachother. 

“I’ll have whatever you get.” You smile a bit wider at the way he strongly considers what that choice should be. He stands and walks towards the kitchen, humming a tune you can’t quite place. 

“Y/n, what do you do for work?” Chan asked softly from across the small table, clearly wanting you to feel welcome even when Han isn’t in the room. 

“Oh, I’m a preschool teacher.” You nod, suddenly aware of all the eyes on you. 

“That’s so cute. Do you do lots of fingerpainting?” Felix asks from your other side. You chuckle and shake your head. 

“It’s way too messy and all of these kids wear clothes that are worth more than I make in two years.” They nod, the conversation coming to a lull. 

“Ooo, y/n tell them about the craft project you guys did last week.” Han sits beside you and sets a can of soda in front of you that’s identical to his. You dive into a story about popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners and trying to explain the term ‘structural integrity’ to four year olds. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Han watching you carefully. Hanging on your every word just like everyone does for him. Even though he’s heard it all before, he laughs and smiles and nods. Once the attention slides away from you and they disburse back into their own little conversations, you try to be part of one between Han and Jeongin but soon realize that Jeongin is talking with Chan. You trail off, awkwardly looking down at your hands. “Hey, keep going. I’m listening.” You hear Han encourage softly, bumping your arm gently with his drink. You look up at him and smile gratefully, launching back into the tale of the time you were chased by an angry lizard and Han is completely invested with wide eyes. 

The first time you hung out with Jisung was at your apartment, roughly a year after the two of you had met at the karaoke. 

“Ugh, it’s just been a shitty day and I need a drink.” You vented to Jisung on the phone while you folded laundry. 

“Should I bring over some beer and chicken? Maybe some soju?” You can hear his keys jingling in the background, clearly already getting ready to head your way. 

“No, it’s fine. You guys are so busy lately, I would hate to take your time. I’ll be fine, Ji.” The nickname was a recent development, but you both seemed to like it so it stuck. 

“Okay, so beer and soju. Got it. I’ll even be your knight in shining armor and get those chips you love for some reason.” You hear his door click shut behind him. “I’ll be over soon pookie wookie bear.” He says in a cute voice and you make a gagging sound. “Okay, okay! Sorry! I am actually on my way. Give me like 15 minutes, yeah?” 

Twenty minutes later, you heard your doorbell ringing over. And over. And over. You opened the door and glared. 

“If I could, I would yell your full government name at you right now.” You sigh, and let him in, cursing your neighbor who you found out was a Stay shortly after they moved in. Yeah, makes having any of the boys over very tricky. Great times. Jisung giggles because he knows the reason “You little shit.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. He sets down his convenience store bag on the coffee table and eyes your folded laundry while glancing over to see if you’re watching. “No! No, I just washed those. Get your own hoodies you gremlin.” You can’t help but laugh as he pouts, hands reaching out for his personal favorite of your hoodie collection. You swipe the pile and toss it onto your bed. 

“But your hoodies are so much comfier.” He whines and sighs, huffing into his spot on the floor. 

“Just buy your own hoodies in a bigger size.” You shake your head, plopping beside him on the floor and emptying the bags. 

“Yeah, but our hoodie is a special one I can’t buy myself.” 

“My hoodie that I bought at a concert just months ago?” You know which one he’s referring to. It’s a dark green hoodie you bought when you saw your favorite artist in concert recently. “I bet you could find it online.” You mutter, ignoring his pleading eyes and grab the remote to pick something to watch. You land on your comfort anime, Haikyuu and Jisung groans. 

“Look, I get that you had a rough day. But if I have to watch the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai match again, I might unalive myself.”

“Okay, what should we watch then?” You give up, handing him the remote. He scrolls through the options for a while, sighing periodically before shrugging. 

“Do you wanna just put on cafe vlogs and talk about it?” He asks softly, taking a sip of his beer. Your lip wobbled but you nodded, taking a deep breath and a big swig of your somaek than Han had made for you. He also made a mess on the floor, but in his defense he was just trying to make you feel better. Once Najing is making drinks on your TV, he turns his attention towards you and quietly waits. You look at him and anchor yourself to the stars you swear you see swirling in his eyes. 

“Okay, so-” a sob escapes from your mouth and the rest of your retelling of the day is a blubbering mess. A set of parents publicly humiliated you for something that was well out of your control and your boss was absolutely of no help, saying it must have been your fault. Jisung is sympathetic, handing you tissues and patting your arm gently. 

“y/n-ah, that was definitely not your fault. That shit is so out of pocket, you didn’t deserve that.” He grabbed your hand gently and both of you jumped back as if you were shocked by electricity. You clearly weren’t expecting that and he didn’t even realize he had done it. “UHHH OKAY HOW ABOUT KARAOKE.” Han came out to cover Jisung from the embarrassment and all you could do was laugh. 

“I am not in the mood for karaoke.” You gasp between wheezes, shaking your head. 

“Then you need more alcohol.” He filled your glass back to the top and handed it to you. You can’t tell if his cheeks are red from the beer or from what just happened but he was so damn cute you didn’t care.  

“No, I don’t want to hear you do terrible covers of your group's own songs. It’s very painful for me, a fan, to hear. And I’m sure my neighbor would break through the wall in an instant.” You take a sip of your drink, trying to catch your breath. He frowns and takes his spot next to you. It’s quiet between the two of you, but you don’t feel pressured to say anything. You weren’t sure how long had passed, the two of you just quietly watching drinks be made. “Thank you, Sungie. I feel better just having you here.” Your head turns to look at him and he’s eyeing you with a small smile. 

“You’ve never called me that in person before.” he comments softly, the stars swirling even more. Did you have too much to drink? Maybe. 

“Called you what? Sungie?” You giggle and lean towards him. Yeah, you’re definitely drunk. He huffs out a small laugh at whatever it is you’re doing and turns his face away. 

“I like it. You can keep calling me that if you want.” 

“Only when it’s just us though. That seems like a” you lean in closer and whisper “boyfriend nickname.” And you swear for a second that his cheeks instantly flush red, but he stands up and mutters something about going to the bathroom, pulling his hood over his head. While he’s gone, you crawl onto the couch and curl into a ball. You swear you only plan to close your eyes for a second, but are awoken by Jisung shaking you awake.

“Should I go home?” He asks softly, squatting down to be eye level with you. You pout and shake your head, making grabby hands for him. 

“Can’t you just cuddle with me all night?” This time you for sure see his cheeks flush pink. 

“Why do you keep saying things like that?” He asks sadly, gently pushing a strand of hair from your face. 

“Because I’ve secretly been attracted to you from the moment I saw you. But shhh, you can’t tell Jisung.” You slur, grabbing his hoodie and tugging him onto the couch. He holds back a laugh as you pull him into your arms, humming in content when you finally have him close. He’s still for a moment before coming to the quiet realization that your arms are the home he’s longed for all these years. His eyes scan the details of your face, tears threatening to fall at any moment. The two of you had hugged before, so why was it so different this time? Why was his heart pounding yet somehow he’s never felt more at peace. 

“We can’t go back from here.” He whispers to you with a serious gaze but you’re already asleep, snoring softly. He places a feather soft kiss on your nose and nuzzles into you happily. 

You woke up that morning to a text from Jisung, explaining that he had to run out for some work thing. You groaned, lifting your head from the couch and looking around the living room. It was surprisingly clean for Jisung having been over last night. You don’t remember much after the mention of karaoke, and even that’s a little fuzzy. You drag yourself to the kitchen to drink some water, swearing that you’ll never drink again. Is it a lie? Perhaps. But it feels sincere right now. You’re in the process of gulping down an entire bottle of water when new memories from the night before flood into your mind. Water sprays from your nose in shock, luckily you’re near the sink. 

“Oh my god, y/n you can never drink again. Holy shit why did I DO THAT?” You blindly reach for a paper towel to clean off your face, coughing slightly. As if sensing he was being thought about, you see Jisung calling you. You clear your throat and pick up, trying to seem like whatever that was didn’t just happen. “Hey, what’s up Ji?” 

“Hey! I was just checking on you, baby. You were still sleeping when I left.” Baby? Oh dear, what have you done? 

“Oh, uh thanks. Yeah, I’m just drinking some water.” And blowing it out your nose, no big deal. We love a talented queen. “Um, Ji, about last night-” 

“Sorry y/n-ah, I gotta go. I’ll come see you tonight, okay?” He cuts you off, ending the call just as abruptly as it had started. 

The day consisted of you pacing around your apartment, trying to figure out how to tell Jisung that you didn’t actually mean to confess your feelings. Not that you didn’t mean what you said but more that the timing was terrible. You had known him for over a year now but you were scared that this was too fast. He wasn’t even technically allowed to date, so all of this was wrong. So wrong. So, when Jisung arrived at your apartment later that day, you had been spiraling down this rabbit hole for hours. You were a mess and almost burst into tears at the sight of him. Of course he had flowers, why wouldn’t he have flowers? He was holding them so cutely too. 

“Sorry I’m kinda late, I wasn’t sure which bouquet at the flower shop was prettier.” His smile was so wide it almost hurt. You stepped to the side, letting him come in. 

“So, uh, Ji. I wanted to talk about last night.” You muttered nervously, picking at your nails with your eyes on the floor. 

“Oh, sure. Yeah, let's talk about it.” You could hear the worry in his voice as he sat on the couch, waiting for you to join him. You sat beside him and took a deep breath, unable to look at him. 

“I… I just wanted to apologize for what drunk y/n did. She, uh, clearly forgot her manners. She also forgot that you’re not allowed to date, so yeah. Not very cool.” You finally gained the strength to look up at him and he was holding back a laugh, trying his hardest to look serious. 

“Uh, so you’re saying that you don’t feel that way?” He asks, momentarily gaining his composure. 

“Well, no. But I know that-” 

“Then that’s all that matters. All the rest of it, we’ll figure it out.” He grabs your hand and sighs. “You’re just too cute, you know that?” He flashed you his wide smile that made your heart melt and all the anxiety skitter away from your mind. 

You thought that dating a celebrity would have been awkward or scary. But dating Jisung felt as easy as breathing. While, yes, you had to keep your relationship hidden from the world as well as his company, the two of you still managed to be attached at the hip. Until your schedules made it a bit more difficult, of course. But you could always count on Jisung to bombard you with tiktoks at any given point of the day. 

This last comeback, however, there wasn’t even time for that. You tried to text and call him when you could, but both of you were so busy that the calls were never longer than an hour and the messages were brief. Scrolling through Twitter, you saw Stay talking about how worried they were for Han, saying he seemed like he wasn’t feeling well. It was like a knife twisting in your heart to see him like that, to see that the Han front wasn’t even able to hold up. 

With some help from Chan, you booked a flight to come visit Jisung while he conveniently had the day off after lunch. You had arrived at his hotel room just before he had gotten back, waiting eagerly on the couch for him. Your heart jumped at the sound of the door opening and you stood, already craving him in your arms. You heard him sigh and kick his shoes off, padding into the room. His eyes were glued to his phone, headphones in. You chuckled to yourself as he obliviously went into the bedroom and you followed behind him. He crawled into bed and finally noticed you when he glanced up towards the end of the bed where you stood. His eyes widened and he sat up, jaw dropping in shock. 

“Baby? Is it really you?” You could see his eyes begin to water as he stood up and slowly made his way towards you. 

“Yeah, I’m here love.” You smiled as he quickly closed the space between the two of you and pulled you in close. His sniffles only made your heart break for him more, your arms tightening around his body to hold him closer. 

“I missed you so much. I don’t know what’s going on with me, but it’s so hard right now.”He mumbled into your neck where he was nuzzled against you. “I’m trying so hard to be what I’m supposed to be, but I’m so tired and my head hurts all the time. I really don’t want to let them down, but I don’t know how to do better.” You can feel his tears wetting your shirt as he confides in you, tears streaming down your own cheeks.

“Oh, my sweet boy.” You sighed and gently pulled him away and held his face in your hands. “Look at me baby.” You whispered softly, wiping tears from his face with your thumbs. His wide eyes slowly slide to meet yours and the guilt that lives in them fills you with sadness and anger. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with having an off day, or even an off week for that matter. Maybe even an off month. You work a very demanding job and you do it flawlessly. So many people love you and look to you for strength, Han Jisung. But you’re allowed to not feel okay. To need some time alone, to recharge.” You kiss his forehead gently and you can feel him lean into your touch. “I know we’re both busy, but I’m seriously just a phone call away- always. I don’t care where I am, I’ll answer if you call.” You pull back and look at him and he gives you a small smile, nodding. 

“Thank you for coming.” His voice is soft, looking at you adoringly. He covers your face in kisses, a full smile finally growing on his beautiful face. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.” You go out to the couch and grab the gift bag you had brought in and hand it to him with a smile. He furrows his brow and peaks into the bag before breaking out into a huge grin. “I figured I could loan our favorite hoodie to you until you come back.” You chuckle as you watch him frantically take off the one he was wearing and replace it with yours. He rushes over to you and hugs you tightly again. The two of you eventually end up on the bed, snuggled up to one another in comfortable silence. After what could have been hours, Jisung kisses your forehead and keeps his lips there while he mumbles the phrase that makes your heart soar every single time you hear it. 

“I love you so much, y/n.” 

[kylejsugarman]

brbabcs cutie marks? 🥺

I HESITATED ON THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE I WAS SO AFRAID OF THE CRINGE.........but honestly. if im not cringe fail, im nothing at all

i don't one for Everybody, but as for the ones that i do have: walt's is a rack of test tubes. on a superficial level it represents his chemistry genius, but it also demonstrates his ability to separate and segment the parts of his life (his home life, his drug life) and to assume control of/sort/manipulate the people in his life the way u do with materials in a rack of test tubes. jesse's is a vine with leaves curling around a stake/trellis ("haha sick.....weed cutie mark"). it represents his neediness and clinginess, but it also represents his capacity for growth and how he has endless potential to continue growing upwards and keep thriving even in a hostile environment. marie's is a diamond, which some might interpret as a reflection of her materialistic nature, but it's actually an indication of her toughness in even the harshest circumstances without losing her shine (losing hank and then fighting for him in the courtroom being the best example). jimmy's is a two-sided scale with one side visibly higher than the other: in brba, this is easy to interpret as him being a crooked lawyer who will do anything to get the desired outcome, but as bcs progresses, it becomes more evident that the reason the scale isn't balanced is because jimmy Doesn't know how to balance things. he lets his emotions take over, his ambitions take over, his impulses take over, and things rarely balance out the way he wants. kim's is a staircase for many reasons: she's had to work her up in so many ways, primarily in her career (from the mail room up to the offices), but she also represents a way out of despair and darkness for so many people, especially her disadvantaged clients. it takes some work and effort, but u can get up and out. mike's is a mountain for obvious reason of he's steady and unmoving and Stone in Many Ways, but also because he gets treated with the kind of quiet awe that a mountain does (this thing can't be moved, this thing is reliable and will always be here) and because there's a sense of loneliness and singularity to him that there is a mountain that has been there for hundreds of years.

[koocycle]

That one ask about why over wine is so great>>>>>> I totally agree! This depiction of two imperfect people who suck at communicating has to be one of my favs yet. It's so bothersome when a male is acting so mid towards his s/o but he's portrayed as a "saint" for having the "patience" to "deal with" his woman. When in actuality he's being complacent and expecting the problem to solve itself if he brings flowers, and then his sweet little wife will go back to being happy being a trophy for him to show off. So, it's very refreshing to see this kind of portrayal. Sure, oc is a bit sassy and passive aggressive, but part of it is bc she feels the outcome wouldn't be in her favor if she were vulnerable. So, the only way to feel like she's won is to fight jk instead, to win against him instead of the problem, but we know that the "win" is only a win in the moment. And mind y'all that this is a woman who feels like she's lost her individuality. She doesn't have any purpose for herself to explore and put on effort towards. She can relax all day but take it from someone who knows, staying at home all day doing nothing gets so damn depressing. If it was a dude in her place, (trash) people would suddenly give a damn and preach about how unfair and frustrating that would be but they'll portrayed a woman with the same problems as unappreciative and snobby. The thing with jk is that each and every time he's like, "you don't have to lift a finger" but that doesn't mean oc doesn't want to. It's frustrating and stifling. When people are able to live comfortably, they will still work because we all need to keep our hands busy with things that we love. And in the end jk might be "trying" but you can't say you're attempting to fix things with all your might, when your solution to helping a deep wound between you two is just soothing it with expensive pain relief. It won't get rid of the wound, and while it may ease the pain in the beginning, it's only temporary, and oftentimes, when you take the same pain reliever for so long, it soon stops taking any effects and might even cause more harm than before. His luxury bags and dresses are nice, but the perks aren't really there anymore, it's overused and the pain still comes back. Without trying to mend things with anything of substance, those things he buys end up being useless. Can't patch up a marriage with duct tape bestie 🫡 He can't replace his absence with gifts and he can't take away boredom with luxury. And then my guy has the gall(is that right) to be jealous of other dudes who pay attention to her in public spaces. Jk! She needs u and she needs hobbies 😭😭😭

So basically, it's such an amazing work and you're so cool for it!! Idk if any of that made sense but oh well! I like the story and the depth that the characters have and you're amazing at writing 😘

thank you so much for taking your time to send this in 🥹 i appreciate you so much!!

very true when you say it’s sad to see that he thinks their problems will just vanish with the help of luxury gifts and a steady paycheck at the end of the month. while he gets praised for his work, she just gets to stand by his side like a trophy, yet shes lowkey treated as a nobody. almost like her attitude is some sort of defense mechanism!

and i love you so much for adressing the issue at hand, where you describe her as “someone who has lost her individuality”. i’m taking it from you and me both when you say it gets damn depressing to stay home every single day. there are people who can do it, and there are people who can’t. but models are very creative individuals! creative people need a space to let their creativity run free and often times when they don’t have the opportunity to, they can become very miserable! i mean, did you see the difference during the scene with taehyung? it was huge!! she definitely appreciates jungkook for everything he gives her, but she doesn’t need much of it at this point.

you’re the one who’s so cool for taking your time to send in your thoughts!! 🤍 really, you’re making my day here :( thank you ily

[sanstropfremir]

Hi! First I wanted to say I've really been enjoying your q&a! :) So here's another one. Not sure if you have any thoughts on this since it's on the music rather than the design side, but why do some 4th gen groups only have one person sing the chorus? I thought usually members have their individual lines and then the entire group songs the chorus together. It took me so long to notice because they layer the vocals in the recordings so it sounds bigger. Only when I started watching some covers did I notice only one person is singing. Specifically I was watching the various Mirotic covers and wondering why it sounds so thin, and then once I saw I started seeing it everywhere. And 4th gen is probably not right, because Twice does it too. But why? The producers know it would sound better since they layer vocals on the actual recording version. Why not just do it in real life too, literally all the members are already there.

thank you!

well, the short answer is because no one in fouth gen can sing.

the long answer is that there's been a significant decrease in the amount of debuted idols that have good vocal technique that can be performed while dancing. certain priorities are placed by companies in terms of what type of vocal training idols get, how much training they get, what type of choreography gets chosen, and even what type of people even get cast in the first place. obviously the industry is no stranger to streetcasting a rando just for looks, but in the past, and particularly with sm, there was generally effort put in to making sure that everyone slated to debut was at least a passable vocalist, even if they were cast purely for dance. but now that the trend in the industry has shifted to being more performance forward, some companies have changed some of those priorities. you can't do the same kind of vocal work that you see in second gen performances because now the choreography is too difficult and not optimized for it. the mirotic choreo is a fantastic choreo, but if you have really strong training, it doesn't inhibit vocals like something like ateez's fireworks choreo, which actively prevents them from holding steady notes. also, most companies have made the choice to emphasize dance training because it's been proven in the last several years that group vocals and even the quality of vocals don't particularly matter to the hardcore dedicated fans. fans are going to stream anything from their faves regardless of the sound, so why bother making songs that utilize a specific type of skiill that needs specific training, when you could just not and save the time and money. it takes a lot of musical training and notably training about music (not just vocal technique) in order to sing like nct or any other sm group, which is pretty much the only company that still trains their idols with good technique. there are a couple of small groups that still keep to the old standards, like a.c.e, tan, purple kiss, and onf, but it's much less common because it's become cost inefficient.

the other reason as to why they don't do it in actual performance that often is bc singing and dancing at the same time is fucking HARD. there's a reason why vocal quality improves when people are standing still. dancing and singing both involve having to control when and where you breathe and it's very difficult to do both those things together, so in order to accomodate for the increase in difficult choreography + lack of good vocal training, it's become common practice to rely more on backing tracks or exclusive line distribution in order to take the strain off the members and allow them to focus on the choreography rather than singing.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

Insecure

Summary: Spencer and Reader are both a little uncomfortable with the idea of having sex

A/N: I firmly believe that dry humping shouldn’t just be for horny teens <3

Pairing: Virgin!Spencer Reid x Virgin!Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings/Includes: cursing, smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, grinding, dry humping,  please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 1.9k

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Requests Filled:

“I may have asked you this before but I’m not actually too sure if I just thought about it or if I actually sent it so I’ll resend to be safe (I have Dory’s memory I promise I’m not trying to be pushy) But could you write a blurb about riding sub!spencer’s thigh bc he’s not sure if he’s ready to lose his virginity and he gets so worked up he cums in his underwear (idk if you’re comfortable with that so please ignore this if you aren’t no pressure at all just lots of love) xx

Hi Ellie! I'm a new anon to your blog and I have a blurb request about the grinding on spencer gif you recently reposted. Maybe y/n and spencer are "in the mood" but y/n has never done "it" before but she still wants to get spencer and herself off so they dry hump in their underwear because that's as far as she's comfortable with going. I'm sorry if this is worded weird I've never requested smut before. Also can I please be the 💜 anon?”

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It wasn’t like they’d done nothing. But there was something about sex that felt like such a bold step. He knew she was inexperienced too, which sort of helped ease his nerves whenever he thought about it for too long. He just hoped that the whole thing freaked her out as much as it freaked him out really, but he still just found himself a little too shy to say anything about it. Instead opting for awkward and abrupt ends to make-out sessions, or cuddles, or dates, for fear that it would spiral into something he wasn’t exactly ready for.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to. In some paradoxical way it still turned him on, and whenever he’d leave and make a break for the bathroom in the middle of a make-out session on his couch he’d more often than not find himself with his hand around his cock, pumping himself to the thought of her. He wasn’t sure what was so intimidating about it to be honest.

But she never seemed to say anything about it, so he sort of thought he might be in the clear about the whole thing. Even though deep down he knew that’s not how relationships or communication worked. So he’s both surprised and unsurprised when he shows up at her front door with take out and she’s wearing a robe with what looks like little else underneath. A far cry from her usual comfy clothes that he’d grown so fond of.

“Hey Spence” she says with a nervous smile, and he just stands there dumbfounded, staring at her like he’s never seen her before.

“Oh— I— um, hi!” he mumbles out, forcing himself back to reality as she steps aside to let him into her apartment. “I brought food” he says, leaving it down on the coffee table and all of a sudden having no idea what he’s supposed to do with his hands.

“Spence, I wanted to talk to you about something” she says, looking almost as nervous as he does, bracing herself as she sits down on the couch and beckons him to sit beside her.

“What is it?” he gulps down the lump in his throat before he speaks, preparing himself for the conversation he’s been dreading.

“I don’t really know how to phrase this but, um, I don’t think I’m ready to have sex yet” she blurts out, her arms crossing over her chest, defending and comforting herself as she speaks, her eyes looking anywhere but his.

“That’s alright” he smiles, reaching out a hand and placing it on the side of her face, gently tilting so that she has to look at him, “Me neither”

Saying it out loud feels like a huge weight has been lifted from his chest, he feels lighter than he ever thought possible as she looks in his eyes and they’re filled with a similar ease.

“You’re not just saying that?” she asks, hopeful, and he shakes his head.

“No, god no! I’ve been so worried that you were going to get annoyed, or impatient, or freaked out by me. I just didn’t know how to tell you that I wasn’t ready for that yet. And don’t get me wrong, I do want to… eventually, and I think you’re so pretty, just not, now.”

“You have no idea how good it feels to hear that Spence” she lunges forward and pulls him into a tight hug, and his hands pull her in instinctively, spreading out against her back. As he feels the smooth satin beneath his fingertips he has a thought.

“If that’s what you wanted to tell me, then what’s this about?” he asks, pulling back so that he can cast his gaze over her robe again, lingering a little longer this time, letting his eyes trail along her bare legs that stretch out beneath it.

“I don’t know if this was a stupid plan or not. But I wanted to prove to you that I do still want to be with you. And just because I’m not comfortable with sex yet doesn’t mean I’m not comfortable doing other things with you?”

“Oh” his breath catches in his throat, maybe it’s nerves, or just anticipation but he can feel the heat rising in his face, “Like, um, like what… things?”

“You’re not allowed laugh” she says, taking her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and he smiles at her.

“Never”

“I know it’s a real ‘teenage’ activity but I thought we could both get off together if we dry humped?” his eyes go wide at her suggestion, because it’s perfect and he’s nodding before his lips can even think about forming words.

“Yes, yeah! That’s a great idea” and then she’s grinning at him and he’s grinning back before they’ve even really touched each other. “How do we start?”

She takes a moment to consider before speaking, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but maybe if you took off your clothes so we’re both in our underwear?”

“But you’re not—” before he can finish his sentence her hands have pulled at the tie keeping her robe together and it drapes open on either side, revealing the rest of her body clad in nothing but a white lingerie set. He has to force himself to start breathing again before he can do anything else. But once he does he’s standing up and making his way out of his clothes in an uncoordinated rush.

When he sits back down on the couch in only his boxers she wastes no time climbing into his lap, one leg either side of his thigh, her knee nestled in against his crotch. The pressure is immediate and he can’t stifle the moan that falls from his lips.

“Take this off baby” he moans, his hands coming up to push her robe off of her shoulders until she can shrug out of it, discarding it on the floor. “Fuck” he whispers at the unobstructed view, his hands ghosting along her sides with almost ticklish amounts of pressure.

While his hands are occupied and he's just a little distracted, she dives in to kiss him. Her lips a little rough against his from the excitement but he doesn’t seem to mind, opening his mouth in response to let her tongue in. They stay like that for a few moments, hands roaming over bare skin, tugging gently at hair, moaning against each others mouths.

It takes an embarrassingly little amount of time before they’re both desperate and aching, and she can’t help the way she grinds down against his thigh, resting her hands on either one of his shoulders for support.

“Does that feel good baby?” he asks when her lips break apart from his own to let out a gasp.

“Uh huh” she moans, her lips hanging open, soft and swollen from kissing his own.

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” he whispers, tightening his grip on her waist and pulling her in tighter so that her knee is pressed up against his bulge, pushing closer with each soft rock of her hips.

“Fuck” he whimpers, his head falling backwards to land on the back of couch, giving in to the overwhelming sensation. If it was ever possible for something to feel too good, this was it, he cursed himself for knowing it wasn’t going to last long. And then she started to kiss his exposed throat and he knew he was fucked.

His hands began to dig in tighter against her waist, both guiding her movements and letting out some tension. “You’re gonna kill me” he forces out as she begins to gasp and moan between the soft kisses she leaves along his neck.

“Sorry, it just feels so good” she chuckles a little as he tries to bring his head back up so he can look at her, admire her. She was always so beautiful, but somehow even more so like this. With her hair just a little messy, her eyes full of lust, her face and chest lightly coated with sweat in a way that made her look like she was glowing. It was all so perfect that he couldn’t be more thankful for his memory in that moment.

“Are you close baby?” he asks and she can only nod, her breath coming out in harsh pants as she tries to move her hips with some sort of rhythm. So he decides to concentrate his efforts on her in an attempt to slow himself down.

Holding her still with his grip he starts to move his thigh, alternating between shaking it so that it vibrates, and pushing it up in a very harsh and deliberate grid against her now soaking wet panties.

“Oh fuck, Spencer!” she whimpers, trying to steadying herself against his shoulders without much success. “I’m so close—uh—”

“Cum for me baby” he soothes while keeping his movements forceful until she’s almost doubled over on top of him, collapsing against his chest with a loud and desperate moan of his name. And he can feel the soaking fabric against his thigh and the idea that he’s the one that’s responsible for it has him throbbing.

But he waits. he waits for her to regain her breath and sit back up from her resting position against his chest. But she’s way ahead of him, and he can feel a hand pressing up against the fabric of his boxers, squeezing gently, but it’s more than enough stimulation to have him squirming.

“Shit Spence, you’re so hard” she groans, sitting up finally so that she can look at his blush covered face and neck.

“It’s ‘cause of you” he manages to mumble out as her hand begins to move, squeezing and pressing against his bulge, spurred on by each desperate little whine.

“Are you gonna cum baby?” she asks, her other hand coming up to knot in his hair, tilting his face so that he’s looking up at her, just in time to nod. And then he’s cumming, warm and messy inside of his boxers. Something about the feeling against her hand has her almost good to go again.

Spencer’s eyes close as he turns a brighter shade of red, his mouth hanging open in a little ‘o’ shape as he comes down from his high. When he finally returns to Earth to find her still perched in his lap he can hardly believe any of what’s just happened is real.

“So that’s what I was missing out on in high school?” he chuckles, his hands coming back up to graze her sides softly again as she smiles down at him.

“We’ll make up for plenty of lost time together. And we can take as long as we need.” she leans in and presses her lips softly to his. And even though he still didn’t feel comfortable with sex, he knew he felt comfortable with her.

-- -- --

Thank you so much for reading, any feedback is always appreciated, love you! <3

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[quindolyn]

hi hi i have a req- remus and/or sirius where the reader has like bigger boobs w like stretch marks and stuff (bc theyre natural!!) and shes insecure ab them so the boy(s) make her feel better

Stripes || Wolfstar

A/N: I am not particularly fond of this piece all that much but it is what it is. I tried not to mention breast size too much because I know not everyone has big tits and I want as many people as possible to resonate with my work. Tits of all shapes and sizes can have stretch marks, they are completely natural and beautiful.

Warnings: smoking, it's not too too smutty I'd call it more fluffy smut, tit sucking, mentions of love bites, all acts are consensual and there is an established safe word

Word Count: 1,928

“We could go again,” Sirius offers as he lights his cigarette, leaning up against the headboard, guiding the fag to his lips he inhales deeply and you can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch his lips wrap around it.

Pink and soft, they're swollen from the night's previous activities, thinking about how they got that way sends a shiver down your spine, do yours look the same? Exhaling, you watch the smoke curl out his nose before dissipating into the air.

“Don’t know Pads, you think you could get it up again?” Remus stretches to reach his wand on the bedside table quickly and silently spelling you all clean.

Grey eyes flash with annoyance as he lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, though you must’ve watched him smoke hundreds of times you still can’t manage to tear your eyes away.

Maybe it's the way his fingers manipulate the small object as he plays with it absentmindedly that draws you in, the joints and muscles in his hand shifting under pale skin which looks almost as soft as it actually is.

Every now and again he’ll catch you staring at him, like now for example. His eyes flicker downwards finding your optics already fixed on him, “You want a hit Princess?” He raises his eyebrow, gesturing with the hand holding the smoke.

You nod your head, it’s not every day you’re included in their little smoke breaks post coitus, “Please.”

“Please,” Sirius mocks you as he leans down to hold the cigarette to your lips. You barely have the chance to taste the tobacco before it's being pulled away, this time to your right where Remus takes his time enjoying his smoke.

You can’t help but whine as it departs your lips and you’re met by the shit eating grin on Sirius’ face, clearly taking pleasure in teasing you so mercilessly.

“No whining Princess, smoking isn’t good for pretty girls is it?” Letting his hand cup the side of your face his thumb runs along the soft cushion of your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

In your peripheral vision you catch the cig being handed over your head, exchanging between the two boys as you nod your head once more.

“Good girl,” He coos, before taking another hit.

As the smoke leaves his nostrils he’s dipping down to find your lips. He tastes of smoke and something about it coming from his lips makes it all the more sweet, it’s probably better than the real thing.

It’s intensified as his tongue delves into your mouth, you can practically feel the smoke in your lungs, you’ve never been a match for him and simply let your tongue be manipulated by his before he pulls back, connecting the two of you with a strand of saliva that when it breaks falls onto the side of your face.

“Messy girl,” He murmurs, smug smirk on his lips, as he wipes away the mess, in reality his efforts only work to smear the spit on your cheek rather than clean it up.

“So what do you think baby?” Remus asks, sitting up and pulling you with him so you’re both upright, “You wanna try and go again?”

“I don’t know Rem, you think Siri can get it back up or is my wrist gonna cramp trying to get him hard?”

“You two are cruel,” No matter how hard he tries to hide it you can see the slight smile pulling upwards at his lips, “You’re even hiding your titties from me, mean.”

He gestures towards your chest, he’s right, you’d subconsciously clutched the sheet to your chest, crossing your arms to keep it in place and your breasts covered.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the realization dawns upon you, it wasn’t that you were intentionally guarding them from either boy but you realize that that is how it looks.

“No it's not that Siri I just, I usually keep them covered. They’re… they’re… “ You stumble over your words, only increasing your embarrassment.

“They’re what puppy?” Remus asks, lightly brushing your hair behind your ear so that he has access to your temple, smearing his lips across the soft skin.

“I don’t know,” As you grow shy your voice drops to a mere mumble, “They’ve got all sorts of marks on them.”

This proves worrisome enough for Sirius to set down his fag, letting it sit in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“You mean stretch marks Princess?”

You try your best not to cringe at those words, stretch marks. It's not a dirty word, somewhere inside you, you know that but that has never stopped you from being insecure by them. Deliberately choosing tops that side the ones that sprout from the tops, near your under arm before traveling down the curvature of your tit. Making sure your lingerie always has some sort of extra covering where they’re most visible.

You feel Remus’ hold on you tighten from behind at your pained silence, it's telling enough.

“Just don’t like them.”

Your words have Sirius climbing closer to you, throwing your legs around his hips so the two of you can sit face to face while Remus holds you from behind.

“May we see them, Puppy?” Remus’ elegant fingertips dance along the top of the sheet which resides just a few inches below your collarbone. You shiver at his dainty touch, his fingers are light as feathers, slowly coaxing you into trusting them with this.

“It’s okay,” Sirius’ hand delicately grasps your knee over the soft sheet, “Wanna see our pretty girls but it's alright if you need a moment puppy.”

“No, s’okay.”

Sirius gives you a small smile that only grows as you drop the sheet, letting it pool at your waist.

He spares you a glance before slowly extending his arm, giving you time to tell him to stop or pull the sheet back up, and even though you want to do both those things and more you love Siri. You love Rem. And you know that they’ll be gentle and patient with you.

So instead you steel yourself for his touch relaxing as you feel Remus’ sizable hands wrap around your waist, resting on your tummy.

Your shoulders bunch back up as the tips of Sirius’ fingers,  nails having been painted black just a few hours ago. His touch is steady as he finds a particularly predominant mark tracing along the curve of your tit.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous (Y/N), can’t believe I get to touch you.”

“You’re silly Siri.”

“Not silly, you’re just fucking breathtaking. You got the nicest tits.”

“Just all marked up,” You shrug your shoulders, Remus takes the opportunity to smooth his chapped lips along your joint.

“No,” Remus contradicts, “They’re marked up when we sink our teeth into them and leave pretty bruises all over them,” His hands travel from your waist to explore your tit before stopping on the top of your left one where he remembers having sucked rather fervently just an hour before, “Like right here.”

His pressing down on the flesh pulls a squeak from you as a shock of pain shoots up your spine, leaving your body tingly and the specific spot where his fingers rest pulsing.

“These,” He continues, dragging his fingers over the small indents in your skin, “Are your stripes.”

Sirius leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth as his hands go to support the weight of your breast. The angle’s a bit awkward but it seems to do little, if anything, to discourage him.

Gently capturing your nipple with his teeth he sucks harder, nuzzling at your chest as he does so. The pleasure that you derive from such a simple act has your head falling back onto the solidity of Remus’ shoulder, pulling whimpers from your throat as you jutt your chest out.

“So fucking good,” Sirius growls as he regretably lets go of your titty, “Pretty nipples,” He accentuates his point by twisting them each between his fingers, “Pretty stripes.”

Leaning down he drags his tongue along one of your stretch marks, beginning in the valley between your breasts before extending upwards.

“They’re completely natural, Puppy,” Remus’ voice is subdued as he runs his hands up and down your waist, “Lots of people have them on their tits, Siri and I have them in other places too.”

“S different on you , Remmy,” You try to explain, “You two are perfect.”

“Does it bother you when we see them during sex baby?” He asks with genuine curiosity in his voice, the thought of making you uncomfortable when you’re so open and vulnerable leaving his stomach twisting.

“Not always, no,” He remains silent, urging you to continue, “You make me feel beautiful Rem, both of you, I just can’t help but not like them, don’t like the way they look, or the way they feel.”

You hear him suck in a deep breath and you can practically hear the gears in his mind turning as he contemplates just what to say.

His hands move to hold both sides of your face in his palms as his forehead falls to rest against yours.

“Let us show you how beautiful your tits are, will you let us do that?”

“You don’t have to-”

Sirius cuts you off, releasing your tit from his mouth, “We want to (Y/N), let us,” He dips his head back down, delicately kissing the top of one of your breasts, “Please.”

He murmurs the simple, one syllable, word against your skin, the sensation sending shivers through your body. He rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers, it's nearly enough to have you mewling as you kneel at his feet. Maybe another time.

Before you can register what’s happening, strong hands are softly pushing you back so that you’re laying down on the bed.

You feel the steady weight of your breasts bouncing on your chest before they’re being grasped by hands that just by touch you recognize as Remus’. His thumbs run along the insides of your breasts where more faded lines reside, creating swirling patterns that Remus seems to thoroughly enjoy.

“You know why you got these right?” Sirius questions, raising his brow.

You shake your head.

“Because you got big fucking tits Princess, look at them!” Smoothly he replaces Remus’ hands with his own, letting their weight settle in his hands, “Bigger than my hands, bigger than Rem’s, they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He drops onto his bum as he reaches over you to pick up his fag, raising it to his lips as his eyes fixate on your bare tits, a wicked smirk on his lips. Instead of feeling uncomfortable under his eyes the feeling is something equivalent to the sun’s rays shining on you, warming you all the way down to your core.

You can’t help but smile at the sincerity in his voice, the absolution with which he speaks pulling at your heart strings. How did you get so lucky as to deserve his love? Though he’s not as chatty you know Remus believes every word out of Sirius’ mouth, tenderly he takes your hand in his, absentmindedly playing with your fingers while your two hands rest in his lap.

“It’s just hard to believe you guys sometimes, m’your girlfriend, you gotta be nice to me.”

Gently Remus guides your hand to his crotch, you’re met by his aching cock which you’re just now realizing is standing fully erect, aching, weeping red tip smearing precum against his lean belly.

“Believe us now?”

tag list: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @dracofknmalfoy @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @gubleryum @advictedtohim @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @priii @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @jamespotterslover @lolooo22 @adrianscumslut @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @remugoodgirl @planet-wolfstar @saintlike78 @i-love-scott-mccall @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs  @sunshinexweasley  @saggyb1lls @trashyvicks @sprucewoodlover @slut4drvc0 @1-800-amortentia

[tetsuwhore]

𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

Description: The boys ‘helping’ their virgin bestfriend.

Warning: explicit content. loss of virginity. light mention of a corruption kink.

Part 2 (Atsumu and Osamu)

if you’re close friends with Kuroo, chances are, you two are already pretty comfortable discussing topics related to sex, fantasies, and such. you know about his past experiences, and he knows about your lack of them. therefore, you aren’t too nervous about confiding in him your curiosity about how receiving an orgasm from another person would feel like

being the teasing bitch that he is, he won’t be able to resist sending you a couple of light-hearted jibes, asking if you’re secretly into him 

ultimately though, he agrees. he figures that you having your first sexual experience with him will guarantee that your first is someone who genuinely cares about you and isn’t selfish about taking care of your needs

provided you’re comfortable, he’ll insist on going down on you. not only is it an easy way to make you feel good, it’s also something that you can only experience with a sexual partner as opposed to using fingers

again, dude’s a tease. he’ll get a kick out of watching you get worked up as he spends a painful amount of time trailing kisses along your inner thighs, deliberately straying away from your aching clit. he won’t let up until you either beg him hard enough, or decide to grip on to his hair and pull him where you need him

he’ll get to work eventually, letting you crush his head between your thighs. he has only one goal now - making you cum as hard as possible. the pain from your tight grip on his hair, or the ache in his jaw will do nothing to hinder him from taking care of you

he will go absolutely feral if you’re the loud type - hearing your moans, whimpers, groans, whatever, he loves it all. his pace will grow ravenous, now incentivised to work harder in order to draw out more of your lovely sounds

Kuroo is one who’ll likely suggest a friends with benefits arrangement if you’re interested. he’ll insist that he has so much more to show you

you’ve probably already complained to Oikawa about your lack of experience, loudly questioning how a dumbass like him had a literal entourage of fangirls (and probably boys too) flocking to him while you’re yet to even have your first kiss. but if you mention wanting to gain some experience before leaving for university, he’ll jump at the chance to help you out

you tell him about how you’re nervous about penetrative sex, having heard horror stories about the pain, especially the first time. he reassures you that save for certain medical conditions, the first time (or any time, for that matter) shouldn’t go beyond mildly uncomfortable at first - provided that there was sufficient prep

he lowkey has a mild corruption kink, and he gets a little kick out of the knowledge that he’s the  first one to hear you moan and make you feel good. it’s not in a creepy way or anything, just a bit of an ego boost for him

he’s very insistent on properly prepping you first, not wanting to risk hurting you later. he’ll use his fingers on you, working hard at finding that special spot inside you that makes you squirm while grinding his palm against your clit. he’ll keep it up until you’re crying out into his neck upon hitting your orgasm. and if he’s not satisfied? he’ll do it again

even after going as far as preparing you and slipping on a condom, he’ll ask again if you’re really sure about it. as eager as he is about helping you with this, he also realizes that intercourse is a much bigger step than oral/digital stimulation. therefore, he’s insistent on receiving your explicit consent again

he’ll prop himself against the bedpost and let you get on top so you’re more in control and can do what feels comfortable for you. gripping your hips, he’ll guide you, helping you find a pace that gets him off but also makes you feel good

he, too, will ask beforehand if you want this to be a one time thing, or you want to keep it on-going. if he happens to secretly have feelings for you, he’ll probably torture himself and ask more insistently to become friends with benefits bc let’s be real, he’s that kind of a masochistic bitch

and if you don’t want it to be anything more than a one time thing? boy has an ego to feed - he’ll be sure to make the experience so good that it’s burned into your memory forever

the thing about Akaashi is that he’s such a helpful, trustworthy friend, that you immediately know that he’d be the right one to ask for help with your current predicament. plus, if you wanted to keep it private, you could depend on him to keep it between just you two 

out of the three, Akaashi’s likely to be the most hesitant to agree to help. he’s definitely taken aback when you approach him and tell him you want to learn how to properly give a blowjob - he knows it’s likely that this will affect the dynamic of your friendship, but upon seeing how insistent you are, he agrees

however, upon learning that you haven’t even had your first kiss yet, he’ll propose going at a slower pace by starting out with some making out. he’ll let you spend as long as you like sitting in his lap with your arms around his neck, melding your lips against his until you get the hang of it and feel confident enough to take the lead

after you finally move off and get on your knees in front of him, he’d murmur soft words of encouragement, firm hands steadying your shaky ones if you fumble while unbuckling his belt

when you actually get to it, he’ll let you go at your own pace. this dude has excellent self-control, so there’ll be no accidentally bucking up into your throat because he let himself get too lost. no, he’ll simply let you do your thing while running lithe fingers through your hair in an effort to soothe you

“focus on the head”, “not too deep”, “don’t use teeth” - he’s very good with giving you clear, easy-to-follow instructions. additionally, he’s just patient with you, not showing even a hint of frustration if you do something incorrectly

once you finally get the hang of it, you find it easily to set up a pace. that is, until you raise your eyes up and catch a glimpse of the most beautiful sight - poised, pretty boy Akaashi Keiji falling apart at your ministrations, occasionally releasing breathy sighs and grunts when you do something he likes

after he finishes, he can’t help but feel a little bad because you made him feel good, and it feels incomplete just leaving you with nothing, even if you didn’t ask for it in the first place. he asks if you’re comfortable with him reciprocating in some way - with the choice of his pretty setter fingers or talented tongue working on you, how can you refuse? 

ultimately though, Akaashi likely won’t want to make this a regular thing, solely because he realizes the risk it could pose to the future of your friendship. he’d prefer leaving casual sex to strangers or acquaintances as opposed to close friends simply because he doesn’t want to risk undermining your friendship

[bloodycassian]

darkness defined - 

az or cass x reader idk if this makes sense or not but here we go, either az or cas POV where reader (their mate) was stuck under the mountain with rhys and doesn’t come back bc she is still locked in the dungeons (rhys just assumed she died, he doesn’t know she is still alive)  Switch to readers POV, a few months later where they think their mate and their family (the night court) has abandoned them bc nobody ever came looking for her. Reader is like on the verge of death and uses her last energy to send a pulse down the bond. Switch back to az or cas POV  who are basically freaking out with guilt and anger and worried-ness. Im sorry it’s super long don’t feel pressured to write this anytime soon idk if it even makes sense  

DONT APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SPECIFIC! I LOVE WORKING WITH THIS KIND OF STUFF PLEASE DO MORE LOL

Cassian was a wreck. From the moment Rhys came home alone, and until the end of time it seemed to be. Azriel sighed, watching his brother down his second bottle of alcohol. His eyes were red, face gaunt and pale. The circles under those tortured eyes looked more like bruises. 

He hadn't talked to Rhys much since the news came that you were gone. Cassian had practically blown the roof off the house of wind, then disappeared for two weeks. The only reason Rhys had let him was because Az followed, far behind just to make sure he wasn't going to do anything drastic. 

Azriel watched his brother circle the mountain, only to have to turn away. Wards made by Helion himself refused entry to anyone while the mountain was still being evacuated of Fae. He glared daggers at the people streaming outside the shield. His heart was a painful stab in his chest constantly. His mate.. gone. He refused to believe it. And Azriel saw the denial there, plain as day. 

Azriel had only stopped him once. When he packed a bag and started his flight to Hybern. He earned a black eye and a verbal lashing for that, but it had saved Cassian from going on a suicide mission.

After a month of being out, he went to his brother. Rhys refused to ask Helion to lower the shields around the Mountain, and finally Cassian seemed to give up. He would have gone to Helion himself, but the wards around his court prevented him from doing so. Rhys was torn up over the entire experience of under the mountain, but losing you was one of the worst parts. He would never forgive himself for losing his brother's mate. 

Azriel watch his brother's eyes get more and more dull. Watched the bottles stack up. Rhys wasn't around much, busy regaining control over his city, getting updated. And keeping an eye on Spring Court.  Cassian sighed when the bitter liquid hit his tongue. He drank like it was salvation. Like it would lead him back to you. Plus, it helped him sleep. It was the only time he could sleep without seeing you, without feeling that pull - the command his instincts gave. "Find me, find me. I'm here. I love you. Please."  He often escaped to the cabin. To not have to talk to anyone, and to keep Rhys from stealing his bottles from him. Cassian was convinced Rhys was saving them to drink for himself. That's where he found himself flying, bottle of booze in hand. The guilt a lead weight in his stomach. 

The door shut, and he finished the first bottle in an hour. 

Mor appeared beside him, took the second bottle from his hand and had a long drink herself. He smiled drunkenly, showing too many teeth at her. He wasn't sure if she was actually glowing or if it was his eyes squinting too much. "Cheers." He slurred, taking the bottle back and downing more.

+ The walls were getting drier and drier with each passing day. The once cool winds that would cut through the stone dungeons were turning softer, warmer. It was a welcome relief, but without the muddy water from the walls...you knew you didn't have much left. Your spirit was crushed, on top of it. Death seemed like not a terrible option anymore.  Especially knowing that your court - your friends - your family had left you. They had just... forgotten. Thrown you aside like nothing. Didn't even try to find you. Like the Winter court skeleton in the cell beside you, just left to die.

  You pushed the thoughts back, knowing that logically that wasn't true. But you couldnt come up with a reason why they would leave you down here. You prayed, you tried sending thoughts down the bond. Nothing worked. Sometimes your mind got the better of you, and you would rush to the bars of your prison cell when you thought you heard faint footsteps. 

Then you would hear your own voice echo back, and no one else.  Eventually you stopped getting up. You let the fantasies keep you entertained while you lay on the floor. Not caring about the bugs that crawled on you. You were glad there wasn't a mirror to see yourself in. A wave of dizziness crashed over you, and you fell into darkness. 

When the water ran dry, you stopped bothering calling out for Cassian. The bond was there, but saturated. Trying to grasp it was like trying to hold wind. You were too exhausted. So you propped yourself up in a corner and let the dizziness pull you under again for a moment. Taking rattling breaths, you let your mind wander to that mind bridge. That once sturdy marble that would always remind you of Cassian. 

You sent out a final tug down that bond. Using the last of your energy, you put all your effort into it. "I'm here, I always will be. I love you. I'm sorry." The platform you imagined your bond being seemed to go dark, and lifeless. Empty.

+ Cassian shot upright, head spinning. Mor was asleep beside him, her feet on the table. He shook her, trying to shake the stupor. "Wake up. Wake up!" She groaned, weakly batting him away. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. He wobbled to the kitchen, dunked his head in the cold sink water and slapped himself a few times. The haziness from his stupor crawled away, slowly. 

Mor appeared in the archway, rubbing her eyes.

"Get Rhys. I need you to winnow us." He demanded, patting her face softly. Her eyebrows knit together but she stretched, and sleepily obliged.  + You assumed the crackling was just your starved imagination. Again. But the wind changed as well, and you tried not to let your hopes up. You weakly opened your eyes, to the same familiar cell. A silent tear slid down your cheek.  Then there were the shuffling of footsteps again, and you hid your face in your hands. It seemed like all the imagination tricks were attacking at once. You wanted it to stop. You wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep until you could see and hold Cassian again. Voices, now.

The sweet deep voice of a man who spoke another language. An ancient language. Your ears rang. You cracked your eyes again, to a blinding white light. You held a hand in front of your face, trying to see behind it. 

A thud, and scrape of metal. Then the scent hit you. It was similar to what you had imagined but somehow a million times better. Then, his arms were around you. "Mother above." He breathed. You would have thought the mother took you at last if it wasnt for the pain in your gut.

"We got you honey, I'm so sorry. Im-" He tried to hold back a sob. You smiled weakly at the familiar, yet different eyes that you loved. The marble platform you shared seemed to be lighting up with happiness. At the same time, crumbling and falling with shame. Anguish. 

Rhys began winnowing the group immediately, nodding to Helion. The high lord gave him a melancholy smile back, and winnowed himself in a flash of light. He would check the rest of the mountain with his forces and repair the wards before he returned to his home. 

Everyone surrounded the healer, watching her work. Mor was trying to stay calm, but her hands shook when she held Amrens. Rhys and Azriel both had jaws clenched, shoulders tense. Watching the way Cassian's tears fell on to your shoulder as he cradled you. The healer squeezed  his arm softly, silently requesting him to move. He didn't.

Azriel went to his brother, wrapping an arm around him. "Your mate needs you to be strong, Cas." He consoled, pulling him away gently. Cassian held you tighter, just for a second then nodded and let go. He held your hand firmly. His warmth missing from your body was a shock. You began shivering. Amren tugged a blanket off the guest couch nearby and placed it over your legs. 

"T-thanks." you muttered. Her eyes widened, but she nodded. Her and Rhys glanced to each other. A silent conversation. You didnt care. 

"Cas?" You squeezed his hand, and there he was. His pale face looked ragged. He seemed like he was struggling in every sort of way. You didnt want to imagine what he was looking at when he looked at your features. You could practically feel your cheeks sinking in, your bones losing their density. "I missed you." You smiled, trying to lift his mood. 

His lips quivered, and he nodded. He kissed the back of your hand. "You wouldnt believe how much I missed you. All of us did." he glanced to Rhys. His face was blank, but that steady stream of power seemed to be crackling outside. 

You let your eyes drift to each of your friends. Each of their tear stained faces were such a welcome relief. Over a month alone, their presence alone was enough to soothe that part of you that doubted their love. 

Cassian kissed your forehead, before the healer's light knocked you into a peaceful sleep. 

[hobiiwan]

mirror • cpt. rex

pairing: captain rex x gn!reader

warnings: post-order 66 angst, hurt-comfort but i thrive in the hurt

w/c: 1.6k

notes: i'm back with lots and lots of feelings bc i've been ghosted and it's 5 am so i should probably sleep but i hope you enjoy :D

lovely gif credit to @pieklalat!

Framed by distant moons and even further stars, the night sky never seemed more vast. If you closed your eyes, it didn’t take much to picture a Republic Star Destroyer slicing through the atmosphere of the moon whose gravity became inescapable, with you in it.

Glancing over your shoulder at where Rex had made camp for the evening, you could tell he was thinking it too. Though his eyes were closed, it was clear as watching a holofilm; reliving the searing heat of plasma bolts, shot from the blasters of his brothers, the ones he had served beside for years—the same ones he had buried just hours prior.

It felt as though there was a vice wrapped in a deadlock around your heart, constricting your chest until it threatened to collapse in on itself. You exhale sharply, willing yourself to push past the hollow ache of the now-dulled Force connection, the flashing faces of the clones and Jedi who had perished under the Order—the fear they had felt in their final moments. It was now your fear that you would never escape it.

The price of surviving the command settles atop your shoulders, making a home. A bitter, weighted reminder that you are here, alive, when you shouldn’t be—when you aren’t supposed to be.

You collapse onto the ground next to Rex, which pulls him back to the present. His eyelids flutter as he blinks slowly, once at you, then back up to the stretching expanse of the inky black overhead. He lets out a sigh, leaning up on his shoulders to cast a weary glance at his surroundings. “How long was I out?” He questions.

You reply with a thoughtful hum, “Not long. You need the rest, anyway.” It’s true. The day’s events have undoubtedly taken its toll on the both of you. But how does one go about resting after being hunted to the death?

“I’ll take first watch. Get some sleep, cyare.” He says, now sitting upright and then you know there’s no point in fighting it. You both need rest, but with the way Rex’s frame is pulled tense as a bow, his hand twitching ever-so-slightly towards his blaster, you know there’s no way he’d rest easy.

So, you offer him a victory, albeit a minute one. You pull his unarmed hand into yours and close your eyes, feeling the way he lets out a shaky breath, releasing some tension along with it. A victory—you’re still here with him.

Neither of you can be certain how long you stay that way. The low croon emitting from the transceiver is the only sign that time actually passes. Neither of you complain about the noise, either. It didn’t need to be said that the silence—this silence, was much too loud.

You do try to sleep, Rex gives you credit for that. Though, after turning for the fifth time (he counts) you give up and sit up beside him. He’s got his knees pressed to his chest, one hand curled tight around his blaster. In his other, his thumb rubs circles against the back of your hand. The answer to whether it soothes you or himself doesn’t matter.

Wordlessly, your head lowers to his shoulder, propped gently against the curve of muscle.

“Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a singer?” You murmur, glancing at the transceiver. You don’t recognise the singer on broadcast, though you do take note of the melody, slow and mellow.

Rex watches as you even try to hum along, as offbeat as you are.

“No,” he huffs something short of a chuckle, “you didn’t.”

He knows what you’re trying to do, sees it clear as day. Yet, as he watches your feet tap to the tempo of the ballad, he can’t stop himself from humouring your attempt to comfort him.

You nod eagerly, eyes widening as if to express your candor. “I was about to be one, too! Then the Jedi came and…”

Rex waits as you trail off, then clocks the far-off look in your eyes. He picks up where you left off. “Would you sing for me now?”

You return in a split second, your lips pulling into a bashful smile as you avoid his eyes. “I’m definitely rusty by now, I don’t want you losing your hearing because of me.”

The Captain nudges you teasingly, grinning when you break into soft laughter. “It would be an honour, though,” he quips.

He wonders how much of you has been hidden behind the mantle of a Jedi’s title. Who would you have been had you not been brought into the Order, raised from young to be one thing, and one thing only? Who would he be?

Once again, Rex is dragged out of his thoughts. This time, you’re tugging him to his feet. It takes an effort and a half, which you currently lack in your fatigued state.

As he looks up at you questioningly, you motion to the transceiver, dropping his hand to raise the volume. It’s enough to provide a comfortable backdrop instead of a desperate attempt to quell silence.

“Dance with me,” you propose softly, “please?”

“I don’t know how to, mesh’la.”

As if pointedly ignoring his feeble protest, your hand remains outstretched, beckoning his participation.

Maker, he’s only ever seen couples dancing on holofilms and is even more certain he has two left feet. But gazing up at your expectant self is like looking at a promise of escaping the sorrow he now knows as reality.

Really, it’s all up to him.

Rex swears he feels three times lighter from the way you beam in delight when he fits his palm into your smaller ones and helps you lift him to full height.

He stands awkwardly, clueless as to where his hands should go, how he should move. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

Below him, you soften at the uncertainty tainting his features. Taking mercy on the poor man, you lift a hand to cup his cheek, garnering his attention.

“Put your hands on my waist,” you murmur, eyes twinkling when Rex’s hands fly up to root himself to you. Your own arms loop behind his neck and he takes it as a sign to pull you into his chest, no stranger to the position.

“and now we sway.”

Such a simple command, yet Rex feels like a fish out of water. His limbs are stiff, like the serenity of the movement is a stranger. To an extent, it is.

When you take over, moving him to the beat instead, he gratefully surrenders, allowing himself a moment of tranquility.

The only sounds that reach him become the silky notes of the singer and your soft, steady breaths. If he tries hard enough, he can pretend to be in a distant galaxy, where he is not a clone and you are not a Jedi, where the war is nothing more than a brash concept and his brothers are alive and well.

Rex doesn’t realise he’s crying until your thumb smooths away a tear rolling down his face. His eyes stay closed as he wills himself to keep pretending, but he can’t.

He is still a clone but you are no longer a Jedi. His brothers are gone.

You hold him when he finally breaks, cradling his head close when his shoulders tremble with the force of his sobs. His tears soak into the collar of your singed robes, but you truly can’t find the will to care—not when the man you love is falling apart, barely held together by the threads of your embrace.

“It wasn’t them,” he chokes, shaking his head, a wretched attempt to convince himself, “—it couldn’t be.”

At that, you’re positive your heart shatters. Stars, he doesn’t deserve this. You wish with all your might to take the pain away, to rewind every clock in the galaxy and then the next, but all you can do is watch.

“It wasn’t,” you nod, lowering your forehead to press against his, “not the real them. You know they loved you.” And by the Maker, you know.

Rex’s hands clutch tightly at your robes, as if letting go of that would mean letting go of you. The last tether to what is now his past, his only constant.

What if you hadn’t made it off the ship? What if Ahsoka hadn’t gotten the chip out of him in time? What if he had hurt you?

He briefly registers your voice calling his name, cutting through the despondent scenarios that could have, by any deciding factor, become his present.

“Rex, my love,” you plead, “please look at me.”

When he raises his eyes, he finds that yours are a mirror of his own. The anguish that parallels his agony. He feels you, your presence. He’s never understood much about the Force, but he thinks this is pretty damn close.

“I’m here,” you whisper. The promise of those two words anchor you both. “‘M not going anywhere.”

You mean it. If you believed it before, there was no chance in any star in the galaxy that anyone would be able to tear you away from him now.

For the current moment, you weren’t sure if there was a place to go, even if you wanted. Less than twenty four hours ago, you had been anticipating the end of the Clone Wars. Now, it feels like you’ve been thrown onto the losing side.

“What do we do now?” Rex asks, but you both know there isn’t an answer. There’s no precedent to go off of.

Two of the finest leaders in the GAR and the Jedi Order are lost, with no one left to follow them.

There’s nothing to do but move on.

“We keep living,” you say with a heavy sigh, burying your face into the crook of Rex’s neck, “we live for them. We’ll find a way.”

You always do.

[marvelousbutterfly]

since its holiday season it would be super cute to see tony and peter doing different holiday traditions that are autistic friendly (bc as an autistic person there are quite a few things during the holidays I find overwhelming lol)

here you go, anon! A fluffy Christmas story with autistic Peter!

Read on ao3

We wish you a merry Christmas (sensory-friendly edition)

"Pass me another small red one" Peter said seriously, reaching out his hand for Tony to hand him what was requested, while still keeping his eyes focused on his main task. He stuck the tip of his tongue between his teeth in concentration, doing his best to keep his hands steady as he set the object in place with precision. "There, it's done!" he said finally, pulling up his long sleeves, stepping back with a smile as he looked at the final product of their effort.

The newly-decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the Parker's apartment, with many branches concentrating in specific spots, leaving out some blank space in certain areas. The ornaments were well spaced, though a few of them seemed about to fall off, while others were so far in that they ended up being hidden by the branches. The tree itself was also slightly crooked, too, with the top tipping to one side as if trying not to fall over.

Tony looked at the tree with a blank expression. We definitely should've waited for May, he thought. "It looks great, buddy!" he praised with a smile too wide for the occasion, "It looks a bit… crooked?" he said, ending almost in a question as his tone changed with uncertainty, and he froze while waiting for a reaction from the boy.

Peter looked disappointed for a moment as he examined the tree carefully, taking in every side of it, before shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't see it."

Tony rolled his eyes and he was about to retort, when the door opened, and both May and Happy walked in, each carrying a handful of shopping bags, looking slightly flushed from the cold weather.

"Okay, now we're finally done with the presents!" May announced cheerfully, "How did it go here, guys?"

"We assembled the tree, put up the fairy lights and decorated it!!" Peter said excitedly, smiling proudly at his creation, "Except for some other ornaments, and the star, of course" he added quickly, "we're doing it together, it's still tradition!"

With that, May finally looked at the tree, and her smile fell to an uncertain one as she wondered if she should reach out her hands to hold the tree upright.

"Wow" she exclaimed, quickly fixing her expression, "It looks great, you guys!"

"It's definitely a Christmas tree" Happy said in a teasing tone, earning a light smack on his arm.

"It's beautiful" assured May once again, "Now how about we put on the rest of the ornaments so we can put the star on top?" she suggested, raising her eyebrows in excitement.

Peter rushed to the still full box of ornaments, before Tony tapped on his arm.

"Don't forget your sleeves, buddy" he reminded the boy, "we don't want those itchy branches all over your arms"

Peter nodded gratefully, having forgotten that he had pulled up the sleeves from his hoodie. When assembling and decorating Christmas trees, Peter always wore long sleeves - and on bad days, even gloves - to shield himself from the itchy fake leaves and almost spiky branches. To do so without any kind of protection would be sensory hell.

The small family soon started playing and singing some classic Christmas songs as they finished decorating the apartment, and when Pepper finally arrived, she brought santa hats for everyone - making sure to get ones with a nice and soft fabric so they wouldn't be bothering Peter.

Pepper took in the decorations that had been put up, and how everything was in some way adapted for Peter. Anything that made sounds or lit up had been carefully chosen, making sounds that wouldn't upset the boy and lighting up with not too many colored lights, some even having the possibility to dim the lights - which was great, considering how the boy actually loved things such as fairy lights.

The stockings and other decorations made of fabric were also sensory friendly, being made of soft fabrics that wouldn't feel bad for the kid.

Pepper could already tell how much Peter loved Christmas, and it was comforting to know that with the help of his family, he could enjoy the holiday comfortably.

-------------------------

The five of them were spending Christmas at the Parker apartment as a family, and things had been going well for the most part, despite the stress that usually came with that time of year.

It was close to midnight of the night of the 24th and the group was sitting around the table, wearing cheesy and goofy Christmas sweaters - Peter and Tony wore matching science puns on theirs, with the boy's saying "Ho Ho Ho" with the Holmium element, and the man's saying "Let it snow", with the last word being made of the elements Tin, Oxygen and Tungsten.

As it was approaching midnight, they were serving themselves supper, passing plates around the table. As per tradition, May always prepared a turkey - something her own parents did back in the day.

"Here, Pete, let me pick some of the turkey's breast for you" she offered, taking the boy's plate so she could handpick the pieces that would be more appealing to him, "And don't worry, I've got some chicken breast we can mix it with to make the texture better" she assured, though Peter could figure that that was the case, considering they did it every year.

Peter loved the taste of turkey, but the texture wasn't always that great. When he was little, way before they even knew he was autistic, May and Ben figured out that if they mixed the turkey with a bit of chicken - always the breast, though, as that was his favorite -, the boy could have something with a nicer texture while still enjoying the taste of turkey.

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And so the night went on. The family exchanged gifts, sang more Christmas songs, drank some hot chocolate while watching cheesy Christmas movies, and overall enjoyed each other's company.

Tony was used to celebrating the holiday with extravagant parties with people whose names he barely knew, but he found himself enjoying this quiet but still happy night better. He could definitely get used to this, he thought as he took in the sight of his family talking and smiling around the crooked Christmas tree.

"This Christmas is perfect!" Peter said contently, flapping his hands and shaking his head happily.

Tony couldn't agree more.