#i might join him. i mean. not skinny but.

[luveline]

wondering what zombie!au Steve might try to do for a sappy romantic surprise.. I feel like he’d get really excited about planning something intimate/small but really meaningful and tooth-rotting sweet.. maybe it’s for a birthday? or just for a spot of cheer?

Before the apocalypse, Steve was desperate to be loved. None of his girlfriends ever seemed that interested in more than sex or popularity, and if they were, they’d realise they wanted more than Steve soon after. He spent years wishing somebody would look at him and find exactly what they wanted. 

And you do. 

You look at him like he’s your everything (when you aren’t complaining, that is). “I’m gonna have to shave you myself,” you say, climbing into his lap, your hand tipping his head back less gently than you mean to, he’s sure. “That’s a wound.” 

“It’s a scratch. It’ll be fine tomorrow.” 

He grabs your waist, surprised but certainly not unhappy with your sudden presence. You’re straddling him. “Does it hurt?” You rub the area surrounding his raw skin. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” He runs his hands up and down your sides. “What’s up?” 

You shrug. He leans back against the headboard as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “We finally have a bed again.” 

He pulls you in for a hug. “Yeah?” 

“It’s so nice. I missed this.” 

“I missed this too. Clean sheets, a door that locks…” 

You understand what he’s hinting at. He isn’t subtle, but he’s also in no rush, and you know that too. “Maybe you can give me a massage later,” you murmur. “We still have some of that nice lotion.” 

He loves that, the thought of you on your front as his hands push up your shoulders, your skin and his palms warmed by friction. “What about me?” he jokes, hands sliding up your back, tracing the path he’ll make later on. 

“You can have one too,” you say, your face dropping down to his neck, where you kiss him mildly, like you’re thinking of something else. 

Steve wants to give the gift to you before he forgets it. You can be a very distracting person, not just because he’d like to encourage your lips to his for a good kiss, or because you’re the perfect partner for hugging under the covers. Maybe it’s because he loves talking to you, about everything and anything at all.

“Hey, so.” He encourages your head back, his hand on the nape of your neck. “I have something for you.” 

“Do I have to get off of you?” you ask. 

“No, you can stay there.” He reaches into his pocket. 

“Wait, you’re smiling. Are you that excited to give it to me?” 

“Pretty excited.” 

You caress the inside of his elbow. 

It’s probably why you’re so easy to love. Not that you love him, but your propensity for sweetness, and the way you show your own affection. If he didn’t need both hands for this next part he’d twine your fingers together and hold yours all night long. 

He pulls a small plastic bag from his pocket to show you the contents, then changes his mind and opens the bag to take it out instead. “I know you were pretty happy that I found your necklace in my jacket, but I got it for you such a long time ago, I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep it. You should keep it.” 

“I don’t think I could get rid of it,” you say, honest and curious. “You gave it to me to make me feel better. Do you remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember. You had a frown like no one’s business for days.” He finds the charm and lays it over his hand. The chain is slightly tangled, but he can fix that. “There wasn’t a box, but. I don’t know, it reminded me of us, and you need an upgrade, I think I should ask you to get married–”

You smile in surprise, “What?” 

“But I can’t find a ring. So I have to promise to get you one, and you can have this for the interim.” It’s an incredible skinny chain joined by two hearts. Steve knows it’s cheesy, it’s insanely corny, whatever, he’s smiling like a loon. “I figure it’s me and you,” he says, putting it in your open palm. “Linked together.” 

Your gaze moves between him and the necklace slowly. “You want to marry me?” 

Steve curls your hand closed over the necklace. Gentle, he takes your face into both hands. “I get that I haven’t been the best boyfriend, but you can’t really think I don’t want that, right?” 

He’s really asking, but you don’t answer.

“I would’ve married you a long, long time ago, if things were different,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I would’ve asked,” he corrects softly, before stealing another kiss. 

You press your screwed up fist to his chest as you kiss him back. 

“Who says we have to have rings?” you mumble. 

The idea of calling you his wife is insanity. It trips him up, flips his heart, but he thinks you deserve the real thing. As real as it can get, considering. 

“I’m gonna keep looking,” Steve says. 

The way your eyes soften as he rubs your cheek sets everything he’s saying to you in stone. Who else could he ever want to be looking at him like this beside you? How lucky he is that you’d bother. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Your face tilts down and he drops one hand, moving the other to just under your jaw, his pinky and marriage finger sewn behind your ear, middle and index on your cheek. He watches you and you turn your gift in your palm, waiting for you to lift your head.

“Thank you,” you say again. “Will you put it on me?” 

Steve strings it around your neck and clasps it at your chest before twisting it to sit properly. The new necklace is a bit shorter than your simple diamond. You could wear both without issue. 

You look down at them but can’t quite see them. “Does it look good?” 

“Yeah. Looks beautiful.” 

He wraps his arms around you again and looks up in to your face, chests coming together as he straightens his back and the gap between you closes just enough. You look down at him, your smile a mirror of his. Steve thinks being as in love with you as he is makes for its own kind of gift. Much better than a necklace, but he’ll keep trying to bridge the gap. 

He forgets everything else when you’re together. Everything. 

His face falls into your chest and collar against your necklaces. You press your face to his hair and cuddle him nicely. 

“Love you,” you both whisper at the same time. 

Your laugh tickles his scalp, warm breath in his hair. 

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Donuts (A Surprise Story)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: afab body parts/breastfeeding, baby times, hospital times, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: The BAU team visits you and Emily at the hospital and meets baby Eve for the first time.

“Knock, knock!”

You’d know that bright voice anywhere. Penelope slid open the door to the hospital room, holding up a drink tray with cups of coffee.

“You’re my hero,” you gushed as she handed you a cup of decaf. “The coffee here sucks.”

The rest of the BAU trickled into the room behind her, all smiles and congratulations.

Penelope looked around. “Uh… not that I’m not over the moon to see you, my love, but… where is the sweet, tiny baby?”

Emily emerged from the bathroom, holding Eve gently in her arms.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” she complained, smiling, as her team swarmed around her, smiling and giggling and cooing at Eve.

“Diaper duty?” Rossi asked, winking at Emily.

“I’m telling you, it’s a feat of nature that someone so small can produce something so stinky.”

Emily looked around the room, then furrowed her eyebrows. “Where’s Morgan?”

“Ugh, who needs him? He’s whisking some girl to breakfast. He said he’d be by with lunch as usual.” Penelope was nearly bouncing on her toes. “Can I hold her, Emily!? Or is it too soon? It’s okay if it is.”

“Yeah,” Emily encouraged, beaming. “Just wash your hands really well first.” You’d never seen Penelope move faster than she did to the sink. After washing up, she settled herself into the room’s one chair, and Emily softly placed a gurgling Eve in her arms. The baby squirmed and nestled against Penelope’s chest.

“Oh,” Penelope breathed, looking for all the world as if she might start crying. “She’s so tiny. I’ve never held such a tiny baby! Hi, Eve! Hi, sweetheart! I’m your Aunt Pen!”

Hotch placed a box on the counter, gesturing vaguely to it. “Donuts, if anyone wants one.”

Emily and the others circled the donuts and sipped their coffee while you sat on the bed and watched Penelope play with Eve’s fingers.

JJ perched on the edge of the bed and squeezed your hand. “How are you doing?” she asked. “Really?”

You exhaled heavily and nodded. “Good. It doesn’t feel real yet exactly.”

“I mean, you are on some drugs,” she pointed out, chuckling.

“True.” You sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel… really in love. I mean, head over heels, with Eve and Emily. But also really tired and in pain and kind of weepy?”

JJ nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Well, you know we’re here for you guys, right? Whatever you need. Food, coffee, a babysitter. Anything.”

“I know.” You smiled at her, heart full. “Thanks, JJ.”

“Now, I need a turn with little Miss Eve,” she declared, switching places with Penelope and cooing over Eve. JJ grinned at you, booping Eve’s tiny nose. “Makes me want another one.”

You shrugged, smiling. “I mean, it’d be nice for Eve to have a BAU friend her age.”

“Don’t tempt me,” JJ protested, patting Eve’s skinny little thigh.

Rossi bent over JJ’s shoulder to pinch Eve’s cheek gently. “Bellissima,” he whispered, before approaching you and kissing your cheek.

“Congratulations, kid. She’s lovely. You both are. All three of you, a beautiful family.”

“Want to hold her, Rossi?” JJ said, gesturing toward Eve.

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Oh, sure you can,” you said, patting his arm as JJ stood and handed Eve off to him. “She needs to meet her Papa Pasta.”

He stared at you. “Who the hell’s Papa Pasta?!”

You giggled and blushed. “You. You’re Papa Pasta.”

“Why didn’t I get any input in my grandpa name?” he protested, and Eve’s voice cracked, like she was about to cry.

“You better zip it, Papa Pasta,” JJ said, pointing at him. “You’re gonna upset the little tortellini.”

He bounced Eve gently around the room, quietly crooning Frank Sinatra to her, before joining Hotch, Spencer, and Emily as they bent over a file folder spread open on top of the donut box.

Bits of their conversation drifted over to you, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“And there’s no indication as to what they’re strangled with?” Emily asked.

“We’re waiting on forensic analysis,” Hotch said. “But no prints, no DNA evidence whatsoever.”

“Hey!” you called, and the team looked back at you as if they’d been caught skipping school. “No serial killer talk in front of the baby, Em. We talked about this.”

“Sorry,” she said, sheepishly, organizing the papers and shutting the file folder.

Rossi handed the baby to Reid, and Eve immediately bunched up her face and wailed.

“Uh, hey!” he said, alarmed. “Hey, she’s crying. She’s crying, something’s wrong here. Can someone…”

“I’ve got her,” Hotch insisted, drying off his hands after washing them. He took Eve and smiled softly at her as she cried. “I know,” he said quietly, walking slowly toward you. “I’m not as good-looking as either of your moms. Who is this guy!?”

Eve fussed and squalled, and you knew she was sleepy and overwhelmed and hungry. She wouldn’t calm down until you’d fed her, and as much as you were a feminist and all for public breastfeeding, you didn’t exactly want your wife’s entire work family seeing your boobs.

You made eye contact with Emily across the room and, as if she could read your mind, Emily stood and clapped her hands together and said, “Well, guys, I can’t thank you enough for coming, but I think it’s just about time for this little lady’s breakfast and nap.”

The team got the hint, standing and fluttering about and gathering their things. There were hugs and handshakes and heartfelt well-wishes. Hotch lowered Eve into your arms and your heart swelled at her little hiccup of recognition when she felt herself in her mama’s arms again.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” Hotch said, squeezing your shoulder. He ushered the rest of the team out, and you felt almost overwhelmed by the quiet now.

You’d been nearly a week in the hospital now and, besides the daily visits from Derek (“Uncle Derek,” he insisted now) and your parents, you and Emily and Eve had been mostly left to yourselves. Eve squalled in your arms, and you opened your shirt and bra so she could latch to your nipple. You let out a sigh of contentment as she gurgled and gulped, and as Emily slid into the bed next to you, handing you a donut.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your mouth already full.

She kissed your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient with everyone. I know it was a lot.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Yeah, I thought visitors were capped at two at a time?” She blushed and fought off a smile. You nudged her, careful not to jostle Eve. “You want to tell me how you managed to get an entire FBI unit in here?”

“I had them flash their badges,” she admitted, grinning softly.

“That’s an abuse of power, you know,” you joked.

“Oh, an abuse of power, huh?” Emily grinned and pressed her lips to yours, tracing her fingers along the sides of your face. “I’ll show you an abuse of power.”

“Hey,” you giggled as she kissed you again and again, surging into you, until poor Eve was all but pushed out of the way, grumbling as her little mouth strained toward the nipple. “Hey! I’ll have you know you’re disrupting your daughter’s feeding.”

“Oh,” Emily cooed, helping to guide Eve’s mouth back and kissing the soft top of her head. “I’m sorry, Evie. Get back in there, sweet pea. It’s good stuff.”

You smacked Emily’s arm softly. “Don’t tell her that boobs are good stuff.”

“They are, though,” she protested. “I’m just giving her the facts.”

You yawned and shook your head. “I’m sorry, Em. I’m too tired to be funny.”

Emily positioned herself behind you so that she could support your back, pulling your head back gently until it rested on her chest.

“You just relax, honey,” she said, her voice warm, one of her hands cradled behind yours to help you hold Eve’s head up. “I’ve got you, okay? Both of you.”

And you knew she did. She always had, and she always would.

[mrsshabana]

This request can go on the back burner, but an idea struck me with the force of a ton of bricks when I say your post about incel Gyutaro.

What about a little story where Gyutaro is trying to join a fraternity, to impress girls, and it's hazing time~ They make the pledges strip down to their boxers and wear blindfolds. The frat guys got a bunch of pretty girls together to write on their bodies with washable markers. Compliments or insults. The one with the most compliments from different girls joins tonight, and the one with the least has to walk home in his underwear. The others just get their clothes back and can stay at the party.

Reader is heartbroken by the amount of insults on Gyutaro's body with no compliments. So she puts on red lipstick and kisses all of his birthmarks! And writes in the lipstick. He's still losing, but he definitely won't mind as much anymore. Also, I feel like this is a mouthful if you don't wanna post my ask, itself, that's fine.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro thinks joining a fraternity will help him impress girls, but it results in him getting hazed and utterly humiliated. Though you end up making it all worth it. Maybe it did help him impress girls after all. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, smut, MDNI, incel Gyutaro, college au, angst, humiliation, hazing, vaginal sex, creampie, premature ejaculation ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.6k words. THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I'VE SEEN ALL YEAR. I KID YOU NOT - AS SOON AS I SAW THIS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT EVERY MOMENT SINCE. This ended up being some of my best writing, thank you so much for this request ♡

You've seen some crazy shit since you've joined a sorority but nothing quite like this. It's nothing new that the fraternity guys on Greek row like holding strange events and wild parties. But you never thought they'd invite you and some of your fellow sorority members over to haze some rookies.

A line of almost naked men stand before you, blindfolded and in nothing but their boxers. You and the other girls are tasked with writing comments about their appearance on their bodies with a marker. Compliments or insults, both are encouraged.

Most of them just look like your everyday frat boy, with lots of them having abs and large muscles. The only one that stands out is the guy at the end. You can already tell he doesn't belong in this crowd by how pale he is. Not spending the summer drinking beers at the lake and getting a nice tan? Who the hell is this guy? He looks like the type that stays inside all day playing video games and watching hentai.

And that's not all - his body stands out in many other ways as well. He's really skinny and his hip bones protrude in an unnatural way. Not to mention the large ink-like birthmarks that are scattered across his body.

However, even though he looks different, you don't have a negative impression of him. All you thought when you first saw him was, "Huh, that guy doesn't look like the kind of guy to join a frat."

As you go down the line you write nice comments on each man's body, not having the heart to write anything negative and possibly hurt someone's feelings. You always felt bad for the guys that get hazed so you could never bring yourself to make it worse for them. However, when you get to the skinny guy, you are utterly shocked by what you see.

Littered all over his body are mean and cruel insults. You felt sick to your stomach as you read them.

"Disgusting"

"Freak"

"Incel"

"Virgin"

One girl even wrote, "Ew, why are you even here?" while another wrote, "I rather die than sleep with you lol."

You understand that he has an unconventional appearance but it certainly does not warrant all of these hateful comments. It breaks your heart to see that not even a single girl has said something nice about him.

You can't even imagine the amount of courage it must have taken him to stand up here like this. Only to get shot down and made fun of? You won't stand for it.

He flinches as he feels your delicate, manicured hands touch his chest. Then he feels something creamy and soft glide along his body, it feels different from the markers he's felt so far.

You decide to write some nice comments in your favorite red lipstick.

"So hot!"

"Cutie ;)"

But you feel like it isn't enough so you put a layer of the vibrant shade on your lips, then begin to kiss the birthmarks on his body.

His breath hitches and his face turns red when he feels you kiss him. Starting with his cheek and going all the way down to the mark on his hip. Everyone stares at you with confused faces as they watch you adore the "ugliest" guy in the lineup. But honestly, you don't care, you think he's hot as hell.

However, you feel like it's not enough so you write, "CALL ME!" in large letters on his chest followed by your phone number.

As all of the girls finish up leaving their comments for the guys, they are finally allowed to take off their blindfolds and read the messages on their bodies.

When he removes his blindfold you can't help but smile seeing how cute he is, and not to mention those beautiful blue eyes.

The self-proclaimed leader of the hazing committee, Tengen Uzui, reads the comments out loud.

Of course, the insults on Gyutaro's body sting. Especially since they are so harsh and he received a lot more than everyone else. But the bright red compliments are what's keeping him afloat. Almost making him not give a fuck about what any of the other girls had to say. Of course, there is a part of him that thinks this could be a cruel trick to get his hopes up. But honestly, after going so many years without a girl even looking in his direction, he can't help but get excited. After all, this is the first time he's ever gotten a girl's phone number.

He looks around the room, trying to see who the culprit could be. There are a few girls wearing red lipstick so he's not entirely sure who it could be.

"Looks like you'll be walking home, Gyutaro!" Tengen announced loudly, "And I'll be keeping these!" He laughs as he snatches Gyutaro's clothes - forcing him to walk home shamefully in nothing but his boxers.

He feels a wave of embarrassment wash over him as everyone stares and laughs. Just wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, he nods and walks towards the door.

"Wait!" You shout as you run towards him, taking off your shirt and jeans. Once you're down to your bra and panties you say, "Let's go together."

His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, his face as red as a tomato. The party goes completely silent, the girls stare at you with confusion and a hint of disgust. While the guys stare at Gyutaro with envy, wishing that they were in his place.

"Well, come on," you say, breaking the silence.

Gyutaro gives you a shaky nod and opens the door for you, following you out.

Once outside the frat house, he really doesn't know what to say, at a complete loss for words. A half-naked girl is walking home with him right now, and not just any girl, you're a solid ten.

His perverted self may be too focused on your appearance right now, but a part of him does recognize how nice it was of you to do that for him so he didn't feel so embarrassed. You literally took off your clothes so you could endure his hazing punishment with him. No one's ever been so kind to him before - especially not a woman.

He keeps looking at your tits, trying not to be obvious about it but he can't help himself. He loves boobs!! He always has and he's never been so close to them before. Honestly, it's a miracle he isn't sporting a massive hard-on right now. The cold breeze hitting his exposed skin is the only thing keeping it at bay.

"Um... thanks," he rasps quietly, barely mustering the courage to speak to you at all, "What's your name?"

"Oh, my name's Y/N. And don't mention it," you smile, "No one deserves to be treated that way."

"... so you did it out of pity?" he frowns.

"Not at all! I-I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well... I think you're really cute. Nerdy shy guys like you have always been my type," you express your feelings with a hint of embarrassment, "And just because you don't look like the other guys doesn't mean that warrants bullying."

Gyutaro blushes deeply, too shy and flattered to respond. So you continue.

"Don't join the frat, Gyutaro. You won't be happy there, they'll just make you an outcast because you're different. I really hope you change your mind about it." You hope your words won't offend him, but it's the honest truth. A guy like him doesn't belong in a frat and deep down he knows that.

Gyutaro hates everyone in that frat, he finds them annoying and idiotic. He only wanted to join in the first place because he's so desperate to get laid and he knows those types of guys pull chicks left and right.

"Alright, I won't join. But only if you have sex with me," he states with a confidence he hasn't had all night.

"Wh-what?!" You gasp, almost certain you must not have heard him correctly.

"I only wanted to join that stupid fraternity to get laid. You're the first girl that's ever been interested in me. So if you sleep with me then I'll know I can get laid without needing the frat."

At a loss for words, you stare at him with wide eyes as the two of you stand outside of his dorm building.

You're no saint, so sex isn't something you aren't used to. But you also wouldn't consider yourself the type to sleep with a guy you barely know either. This is still weird for you. But is it too weird for you?

Obviously not because you feel butterflies form in your stomach and a moistness develop in your panties as you think about it. He is really cute, and he does have a point. If you sleep with him maybe it will boost his confidence. And who knows, maybe after tonight you could get closer to him. Being a virgin and all, he doesn't seem like the type to just dip and skip.

"Ok, you have a deal," you smile shyly and take his hand, "This is your dorm building right?"

His jaw drops, not expecting you to have agreed. "Y-Yeah," he stutters.

"Let's hurry before anyone catches us!" Dragging him inside, the two of you sneak up to his room without being noticed.

Once inside you get clear confirmation that Gyutaro is the exact kind of guy you thought he was. Clothes and empty energy drink cans were strewn about his room. The air smells like a mix of body odor and G Fuel. On his desk is a nice looking PC gaming setup. Equip with neon lights and an RTX 3090. And you aren't surprised to see a bottle of lotion on his desk. And beside it is an nsfw figurine of some anime character that looks vaguely similar to you. Maybe you are his type after all.

Gyutaro doesn't bother cleaning up or even apologizing for the mess, it's like he doesn't even care. He just turns on some colored lights and sits on the bed. Now that he's out of the cold and inside the comfort of his own dorm, you can see his erection quickly growing under his boxers.

"Well? Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now," he scowls.

"No! I'm not chickening out! I'm actually really excited..." you sit beside him and caress his thigh.

Immediately you can see his member twitch beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. He had this nonchalant act going on, but now it's crumbling down and he's a complete mess.

"C-Can I touch them?" he mutters as he stares down at your chest.

"Sure, let me help you," you say as you unhook your bra and throw it to the side. His eyes widen and he has to stop himself from drooling.

Like instinct, his hands go to your breasts and he starts feeling and playing with them. It's obvious he's never done this before because his hands are shaky and he's handling them roughly. But he's just so excited!

"Woah," he says in awe, "These are awesome..."

Even though he's a bit rough and inexperienced, it still feels good. The way his bony fingers squeeze and prod, along with how he runs his fingers over your nipples with curiosity.

"Gyutaro..." you whisper as you caress his cheek and pull him closer, "Come here." Pulling him into a heated kiss, it's obvious he doesn't know what to do. But you try your best to guide him.

He whimpers into the kiss as you slide your tongue into his mouth. He tries to reciprocate but he's quite sloppy.

Despite that, it still sends him to cloud nine. Not only is this his first kiss but he also gets to touch tits at the same time. It's so overwhelming for him that he feels like he's already going to cum.

Hastily shoving his hand down his boxers, he grabs the base of his cock and squeezes tightly - desperately trying to stop himself from cumming. He pulls away from the kiss and says, "T-Take off your panties, I-I wanna fuck you already."

With a devious smirk, you spread your legs as you remove your panties, showing him how wet you are. Gyutaro gulps, staring at you like a starving animal.

"I'm ready for you, Gyu," you coo as you lay on your back, completely submitting to him.

"Wait um... can we try doggy style?"

You're kind of surprised by his request but you don't mind so you flip over and get on your hands and knees.

Gyutaro would actually love to watch your face contort as he fucks you, but he chose doggy style because he doesn't want you to see him while he does it. Even after everything you've said to him his insecurities are still there. And a part of him fears that if you see his dick then you'll change your mind about this. He's not the biggest, but he definitely isn't small either. The size is actually really nice, but he's so insecure that he can't see that. But the worst part is the birthmarks, he feels like his dick looks like he has some type of venereal disease even though he doesn't. So he figures it'd be best if you just didn't see it at all.

Once you're in the doggy position he feels comfortable enough to pull down his boxers. You feel the sticky, leaking tip nudge against you as he positions himself.

His brows furrow in frustration as he tries to find the right spot, his inexperience showing.

"Here, let me help you," you say in a sweet tone as to not upset him or sound judgmental. Though he's still a bit embarrassed anyway.

Reaching between your legs, you grasp his shaft and gently guide him inside of you. Once he's an inch or two inside, he gets too excited and fully thrusts forward. Jolting his needy cock into your gummy walls. You yelp in response while Gyutaro moans loudly.

"F-Fuck... ngh Y/N, you feel so goddamn good," he groans in pleasure as he tightens his grasp on your hips.

After a moment of stillness, he starts thrusting when he feels like he won't cum immediately. But it's not long before that sensation comes back.

Only after a few thrusts, do you feel a warmth spread inside of you as you feel Gyutaro's thighs begin to shake.

"Did you- did you cum?" Surprised, you look back at him to see the blissful expression on his face.

But your words quickly snap him out of it, "Shit... m'sorry," he pants, obviously feeling ashamed and embarrassed, "I-I didn't mean to cum so fast."

He quickly shoves his dick back in his boxers, trying to hide his shame as he hangs his head and refuses to look you in the eye. The only chance he got to have sex, he ruined it by cumming too fast like the incel that everyone says he is. He looks down at the writing on his body, starting to feel like all of those insults from earlier are justified.

Seeing the shift in his mood, you quickly put your panties back on and hug him. "Hey it's ok, it was your first time. That just means we'll have to do it more so you can get used to it."

"R-Really? You don't think I'm pathetic...?" he whimpers in disbelief.

"Of course not, I still had a lot of fun," you smile and kiss his cheek, "Maybe I can stay the night and we can try again in the morning."

"I'd fucking love that."

[dabisbratz]

𝒮𝒰𝒞𝒦𝐸𝑅-𝒫𝒰𝒩𝒞𝐻 ! — toji fushiguro x male reader

w.c: 3.9k

warning: boxer!toji, size difference/kink, daddy kink, bottom!reader, manhandling, fingering, light feminization, light crossdressing ( ? ), unprotected sex, creampie, praise/degradation, oral sex, size queen ( king? )! reader, impact play ( slapping ), light choking, descriptions of violence (boxing) & blood, hair pulling, tummy bulge, spit, cliffhanger, breeding kink

sonny says..! a lot of ppl think tummy bulges in fics = skinny reader, but when i write them in s’not true for m’fics ! the reader has no body-type descriptions, it’s really jus that toji’s so big he makes one. your body is perfect the way it is, n fanfiction is !! not !! realistic!!

Fushiguro’s got a thing for adrenaline.

It gets his blood pumping— literally and figuratively. It gets him bouncing from one foot to another before his match even begins, his body shakes with uncontrollable tremors and he has to grit his pearly teeth to keep them from chattering. He feels it coursing through his veins, thick and steady as it pumps through with each passing beat of his heart, and he’s never felt more alive.

It gets his heart beating. Loud and rushed in his ears as the sound joins cheering fans in their symphony, muffled by the doors that separate backstage from the ring. Yet he can still hear it, the loud, constant cheer of ‘Toji! Toji! Toji!’ bouncing off his eardrums and straight to his racing heart. It’s almost incomparable.

He knows you’ll be watching tonight, back at home surrounded by memorabilia that reminds you solely of him and his success— his accomplishments and trophies. But you’re the best of them all, his boy, sitting pretty by the sofa as you flick on the tv to watch your man take home another. To say he’s excited would be childish.

He’s over the fucking moon.

“Fushiguro,” It’s his coach speaking, something incoherent in comparison to everything else— the inky black strands of hair already sticking to his forehead, the sight of his veins cascading up his forearm just to reappear thick in his biceps, his freshly bandaged hands being painted with chalk. But he hears it anyway. The man is quick to whip his head to the side, an intense shadow in his lime eyes that has his support team shivering. “Not too much this time.”

Right. Because last time he’d let himself get a little carried away. It was the atmosphere of it all, hanging heavy in the air as he sent punch after punch after punch into the guy, one headshot after another. And sure, maybe he went too far, but at least he never went for the back of the head.

See, Toji considers himself a capable man. He’s big, he’s strong, he’s got it figured out whatever they choose to believe in him or not. And, in the long haul, he’s got it. He’s who the fans turn to, who the reporters question; he’s the headlining artist. He’s the one who gets the title, the belts, the awards, the boy. If his opponent can’t handle a few punches to the face, that's their fault for signing up.

“I got it.” He says, teeth peeking from his plump, pink lips until they’re on display, predatory. And he means it.

The arena is big. A large stadium with an even larger venue meant to pack what looks like at least half of Japan’s population. Smack dab in the middle sits the ring, with black, padded turnbuckles and four crimson ropes. Getting thrown onto the ring ground feels like concrete, solid and rough on any skin that touches it. It’s unforgiving, it’s violent. It’s permanent, and every fight could well be Toji’s last.

But that might just be why he loves it.

His chest heaves violently, large intakes of air through his nose and out through his mouth as he pounds his gloved fist against his gloved palm. His lips part, salty and sheen with sweat as water squirts into his waiting mouth, dripping down his chin and cascading down his chest. He looks good despite it all— the bleeding lip and bruised cheek. It makes the scar on his lip look fresh, freshly split open, and he can’t help but prod at it with his tongue. In the crowd, you wonder if he feels as though it’s been reopened.

“Remember the formation,” It’s garbled through the shouting, the cheering, the pounding in his ears. He can’t quite remember anything, boxing just isn’t that type of thing for him. It’s not algorithmic, he doesn’t have to remember or practice a routine, it’s muscle memory. It’s natural. “You hear me, Scarface?”

“Loud n’ clear.” Though it’s gone through one ear and out the other.

It looks like he’s losing. He’s gotten a few good hits in, caused a few nosebleeds, but his attacks to the body just haven’t been cutting it. His opponent, the smug bastard of a man, with blond hair and woodsy brown eyes may not look as bad as Fushiguro does, but he looks just as tired. He can’t have that, no, not when you’re at home watching. Not when the jumbotrons are broadcasting in front of hundreds and thousands of fans.

There’s a pat on his back that has Toji jolting forward, more on his own volition, but if anyone asks he’ll blame it on that anyway. Because he feels it now, the pent up tenacity bubbling through his veins and straight to his fists as he bares his teeth and stares down his opponent. It’s not like he’s trying to look intimidating— Toji’s a big man. He towers over most, even if they’re in the same weight category. He’s just big, with broad shoulders and an equally broad chest. With a broad rib cage that dips at his waist and widens back at his hips, then travels down his thick, strong thighs and legs.

And, fuck, if his tired-looking opponent isn’t as strong. He throws strong punches that land square center, almost enough to have Toji stumbling. They’ve got matching, blooming bruises. Matching cuts, and Fushiguro swears if he has to watch the blond stretch between matches one more time he’ll knock himself out.

And then he hears it. He does, really— he knows it’s real because he’s fucking hard. His boy, his sweet boy, somewhere in the crowd chanting his name. The only name that ever leaves his lips, sweet as honey whether it’s being moaned or screamed— whether it’s serious or in a fit of boyish giggles. You’re watching. In person. . . In the stadium, you’re watching.

Toji’s cock twitches in his shorts and he’s never felt more grateful for protective cups in his life.

When he walks through the door the air changes.

There’s a small murmur of ‘I’m home, pretty.’ that’s deep and gravelly, accompanied by the sounds of duffel bags falling to the floor with a sharp thud. Toji’s hands look so big as he runs them through his hair, freshly bandaged and flexing effortlessly. How rough would they feel against your ass. . ? You can’t help but imagine his strong hands squeezing and groping your body, his palm cracking down on your ass as he holds you still by your waist alone.

He must catch onto your presence by the hitch of your breath, because the moment he opens his eyes they’re on you. You feel like prey, blinking rapidly as you watch him stalk over despite still wearing his shoes. He’s going to eat you alive, you’re sure of it, his green eyes narrowing as he tugs on the collar of his black compression shirt.

“Hi.” You start, unsure of what to say. It always comes naturally to you— talking to your boyfriend, his overwhelming presence, being able to talk to him despite how intimidating he seems. But now he’s got you stumbling over your words, staring at you in thick silence that makes you want to bury your face in his chest until he says something.

His eyes slowly roam your body, taking in your clothes with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth.Your legs feel like jelly, of course they do, wobbly and malleable and suddenly cold because of all the breeze they’re getting. Right, you’d rushed home to put on your prettiest outfit— a reward for the man. For the champion.

Though pretty might not be the word for it. Sure, it is, but skimpy is much more appropriate. With lace and ribbons and garters on each of your thighs, you’re a sight for sore eyes. The prettiest boy he’s ever seen, leaving little to his imagination (not that he needs it anyway, he’s seen you naked a thousand times over) and stumbling over your own legs with his gaze alone. It makes him want to pull out his phone and replace his lockscreen (already you, but much more innocent). Toji tilts his head to the side, a sharp grin growing on his handsome face.

“This all for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Whether it’s subconscious or not, watching his pink tongue dart out to wet his lips makes you swallow down a whine, squirming where you stand. Your boyfriend, big as ever, bends at his waist to fully tower over you, emerald irises darkening with something that has your stomach twisting and lurching. He’s seen it then, his very first gold medal adorning your neck.

“Toji!” You squeal, chirping in his ears as he whips you around and backs you into a corner. So cute, you look so cute wearing one of his medals. It adorns your pretty neck and glints under the light, his name encrusted into the gold. Like a collar, of sorts.

“Pretty baby,” He purrs in response, swapping the names with his fist curled around the medal, pulling you closer. The grin etched across his face shows nothing but pride, swelling in his chest and glinting over his sharp teeth. “What’d I say about comin’ to my matches?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, shaking your head before he stalks forward to close the gap between your lips. Fushiguro still tastes vaguely of metallic blood, but his busted lips are just as soft as they were this morning. They’re much more rushed, not as slow or smooth as before— but now he has a goal. His tongue is quick to slip into your mouth, wet and silky in your mouth, enough to have you moaning before he even starts. His hands creep up your body, large palms pressing against your throat until his hands find your hair and tug.

With a gasp you’re immediately brought back, blinking away unshed tears as your hand reaches for your boyfriend’s thick wrist, “Ow! You—”

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Yeah. Well, yes, he did. And you have an answer, you always do. Always have something to say, something that keeps his eyes glued to your pretty lips. Something smart, sometimes, that has the man ready to shut you up with a mouthful of his cock.

“You said,” You huff, bratty as ever, wrapping your hands around his wrist. Your fingers don’t meet, he’s much too big, and you’re sure your grip feels like an ant crawling up his forearm. “Not to, because,” Another tug. “ ‘It distracts you.’ ”

“Right,” He sounds noncommittal, eyes focused on the contractions in your throat as you swallow down your whines. The fist in your hair turns as a gentle palm, flattening against the back of your head as he holds you still. Your man smells faintly of musk and disinfectant— it makes you want to swoon. To drop to your knees and mouth at the fabric of his sweatpants until his dick— it’s yours though, really— is lined up against your cheek and his pre is dribbling down your face. “You distract me.”

“Am I. . .”His hand is on your chin now, lifting your gaze until you’re standing on your tiptoes. Always been so big, so strong, pressing his thumb into the plush of your cheeks with a bit more force than necessary. Your breath is caught in your throat, and your voice comes out breathy and soft and small, “M’I distracting you now, Daddy?”

There’s a sound akin to a purr the second he hears it, the title sweet as saccharin on your lips. Jet black bundles of hair swish and sway as he shakes his head, somewhat ignoring the question as his hands travel past your waist to grope and squeeze at your ass. Soft, squishy. You’ve always been so soft, so little in Toji’s grip, his pretty boy.

But you’re even prettier when your holes are stuffed full and stretched open. You’re even prettier when the sets you’ve put together are ripped and tattered on your body— when you’re a mess of sweat, and spit, and cum. You’re easy to move around— most are easy to be moved by Toji, but you especially.

You’re obedient when it counts, and the second he’s pushing your knees down to the floor you’re opening your mouth.

“Whose mouth is this?” Your brain is foggy but you know the answer to that one. You do, you do, because it always ends in cum down your throat and an array of ‘good boy’s whispered into the air. There’s a rustle of fabric as he fishes his cock from his sweatpants, no longer a large, girthy dickprint twitching under the cotton. Now it’s in his hand, hot and curved and leaking.

Daddy squeezes at his cock, his large hand sliding into a fist that clamps down around the thick, rose gold head, then sloooowly back down to the thick, pulsing, veiny shaft. You want his cock inside, stretching past your rim and splitting you open while you cry and whine over how big he is, you want his cock sliding inside until he fills you up with his sticky, hot cum— so much so it feels like you’re dying, being held down on his cock while load after load is released into your hot hole. He spits down onto it, saliva thick and runny, collecting at the tip until it’s smeared down to the base and mixing with his pre.

“S’yours, Daddy,” You're gasping around the sticky head of his cock, catching the leaking precum on your tongue as he taps it against your lips. It’s bitter and salty, but thick and invasive in a way that makes you feel properly owned. “Yours to fuck, gonna cum down m’throat, Daddy? Want. . . Need you to, wanna feel you shoot on m’tongue.”

“That—fuck— that mouth. . . A’course it’s. . . mine..” He trails off above you, and if you can think, you think you can barely breathe. You’re trembling against his strong thighs, struggling to form words around the jumbled and garbled moans leaving your mouth as Toji’s fingers rub in smooth, slick circles against your entrance. You don’t remember him having lube, but you can’t complain when his fingers feel so creamy rubbing your hole.

If you can think, you think you can barely breathe. You’re trembling against his strong thighs, struggling to form words around the jumbled and garbled moans leaving your mouth as Toji’s fingers rub in smooth, slick circles.

He appreciates the easy access.

You’re sure if he lets go you’ll fall straight through the floor, knees trembling, a needy puddle. And maybe you’re crying, sliding off his cock with wet pops and sticky whines— you’re not entirely sure. All you can hear are Toji’s groans, his grunts of ‘goodboygoodboygoodboy’ as his other hand squeezes around your throat so it tightens around his thick cock. That and his big fingers playing with your hole, swirling and sinking and teasing your mushy walls until you’re fluttering around the digits and letting out pitiful, bitchy whines.

You’re burying your face against his dark pubes, swallowing hard around his dick with thick, sloppy gags that have you coughing against his balls. Whatever Toji’s saying, it’s earned you a tender pat to the back of your head, sweet and light in comparison to his rocking hips that make you jolt back and forth. Your knees dig into the wood, but you don’t necessarily mind it. It's grounding, and you can focus on the drool pooling between your knees as he bends at the waist to finger you.

“. . .want it in here?” There’s a snap of fingers that makes you blink away the edges of fogginess clouding your judgment, and you find yourself being pulled free from his musky cock. Your throat is empty, you’re empty, and you can’t help but press your face into his spit-slick thigh. But there’s a tap to your cheek, a big palm cracking down on the fat of your face, and now you’re much more alert.

“Uh. . .Huh?” You blink away the emotional whiplash, leaning into the now gentle, bandaged thumb rubbing circles against your cheekbone. Then his hand moves lower, past your jaw to collect the ribbon of his medal where it hangs from your throat, and pulls.

“In here, baby,” There’s emphasis on his question with his fingers pounding into you enough to make your toes curl, and your eyes roll back as the digits press against that sweet, jammy bundle of nerves. “Want Daddy’s dick in here?”

You’re not sure whether to pout or nod. You’ve missed an opportunity for his load down your throat, but it’s even better when it’s in your tummy. It’s Toji’s night, decidedly, and it seems you’ve made your choice when you hear yourself whine, “Yes, Daddy. Please!”

You’re not sure how you got here, how fast he’s maneuvered you— back against the wall and knees over his big, broad shoulders— but you’re not complaining. There’s a light buzz in your hips, so you assume he’s picked you up, weightless in his arms, and folded your legs over his arms.

“S’big, s’so so big, Daddy, fuck,” You’re crying into your forearm as Toji holds you still by the neck, his other hand running up and down your tummy. It’s soothing just as much as it is hot, it doesn’t take much for his large hand to roam over your body. But it can’t make you stop whimpering at the feeling of his dick splitting your tiny hole in half. “Not gonna fit— it can’t.”

“It’ll fit. it’s fit before, hasn’t it? Y’have a greedy hole on you, baby.” You’re gasping and trembling with his cock sliding in and out of your opening, sticky lube pooling along with it and connecting his tip to your boyhole. He feels so big, so thick and hot when he taps it against your hole, barely breaching the tiny gape of your shy hole. “And if not we’ll just have to make it fit, won’t we?”

“Yeah, yeah. . .” You breathe, staring up into his eyes with a fucked-out smile. Toji— Daddy—looks so good, so handsome and strong as he offers a scarred smile back. “Can make it fit. Can take it.”

You hiccup, overwhelmed tears streaming down your face as you reach past your thighs to spread the globes of your ass open wide, your pretty hole slightly gaping and winking at his cock. There’s a breathy groan in return, deep and shaky as Toji takes the opportunity to slip past your rim,, past the burning stretch of your fluttering star that sucks him deeper and deeper into your slick, gummy walls. “Wanna feel you for days, wanna get so full, think it’ll take, Daddy? Your cum?”

“Fuck,” He moans, gruff and throaty at the implication. Breeding you, his cock-hungry boy, until you’re full of his cum and unable to move. Until you’re a daddy. “If it doesn’t we’ll just keep going until it does.”

Your hand clasps around the gold medal like a lifeline, eyebrows pinched as his long, thick cock stretches you open. The curve of his dick has you mewling, tears building in your eyes as your boyfriend fucks up into you, despite telling you to ride him. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it, the feeling of his cock splitting you open like he owns you, or the way his big hands press matching bruises into your hips.

“Open.” Your lips are already parted, hearty moans and whines leaving your mouth over and over. But you make the extra effort to stick out your tongue nonetheless, the wet muscle pretty and glossed over. And, much to your confusion, there’s a gentle kiss placed to the temple of your forehead before he’s hovering back over you.

“Good boy.”

A sloppy string of saliva falls from his lips, missing your tongue by a mile— instead landing on your cheek. It’s enough to make you flinch, a pitiful squeak of a sound escaping as your eyes clench and blink away confusion.

“Oh, I missed,” Fushiguro’s smile is fond and cruel. “Oops.”

You’re so whiny, lifting and rocking your hips as a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself full of cock. It seems you can go barely a few seconds without it, working your hips down the thickness of his cock even as you struggle to take it. His hand gathers the spit, a genuine smile splitting his lips when you move your head to suck them clean.

Such a good boy.

“Really workin’ for it, aren’t you?” Voice as sweet as it is mocking, lube gushes and trickles out with every tilt of your hips. The wet slurp of his dick goes makes you preen, body tightening as you tremble and shake. You’re speared on his cock over, and over, and over, again, and again, and again. It’s more like he’s using you as some sort of fuck-machine than actually fucking you, but it makes sense. Daddy’s much too big to bounce on, it’s easier if he uses you like a toy. It’s easier to keep yourself open, to welcome his cock inside your sloppy hole with the flutter of your lashes. “Good thing you got that medal on, really are the tightest cocksleeve I own. Deserve a trophy for it.”

You don’t have to imagine how deep he is, how far his slick cock reaches, because you can see it. Right there, in your tummy, his cock bulges big and pulsing. You thought feeling him twitch against your walls was enough to have you squirting along both your chests but. . . no. It’s his hand, big and veiny, pressing right into the bulge. Your eyes roll back until your back is arching off the wall— tummy pressed against his palm— and you’re cumming harder than you thought you ever could.

“Shit, did you—”

“C’mon, please. Inside me, Daddy. Please, please I want. . . I can’t, please.” It’s easier if you don’t think about it, it’s easier if you sit there, a tiny toy just barely able to take his cock. You don’t even process your voice as your own, letting your big boyfriend squeeze your hips and lift you on and off his cock until he’s twitching uncontrollably. Your hands ball into tight fists, eyes clenched shut as he uses your trembling hole.

“Barely even touched you,” His breaths are hitched and quick, eyebrows furrowed as he focuses on the slapping of his balls against your ass. So tight and warm, gooey and soft against his thick shaft— massaging his cock just right. You’re so good. “And you came. You’re so easy. So easy to get you dumb off cock, so easy to bounce you up n’ down. Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

“Wait, don’t—” The words are caught in your throat, lips pulled into a small ‘o’ was thick rope after thick rope of cum shoots into your tummy, flooding your senses and spurting from your tight hole. You feel soaked, slick and sticky as your boyfriend offers a few sharp, heavy thrusts. His eyes are glued down, watching his cum make slick bubbles and slide down his own cock, just to disappear back inside your perfect hole. You can’t swallow down the drool escaping from the seams of your lips, instead letting it fall down your chest until your head is falling forward.

“Aht-aht,” You’re pressed dead-center into his chest, burying your messy face between the warm skin. “I’m not done with you yet. Want Daddy t’make you a daddy too, don’t you?”

[just-a-jock]

Get Digitized

Josh is your typical college kid maybe even a little nerdier. He majored in video game development and is a part of the gaming club at school he really didn’t take part in any social life. He was very average-looking, not too skinny but not too fat. Of course, he has some pudge around him One day while waking to his character design class he noticed a new flyer on the bulletin board

“Love video games? Want to earn cash? Come join our trail of Beta testers”

Josh loved the idea as he continued reading. It did pay pretty well and would provide all accommodations during the duration of the trial. He decides to take the pamphlet and heads to his apartment pondering if he is going to do it or not.

The next day Josh ends up driving to the address. Some big office parks with multiple buildings. “WAG” said the sign out front. He remembered seeing this developer when taking his Indie gaming class last semester. “We Are Gaming” is what the company was called and they specialized in virtual reality games and development. Josh was excited to see what project he would be helping in.

As he walked into the building he went to the front desk.

“Hello I’m here to be a part of the beta testing program,” Josh asked the receptionist

“Hello, please fill out the form on the iPad and one of our specialists will assist you momentarily”

Josh grabbed the iPad and started to fill out the questionnaire. It had all the reasonable questions you might think Until he got to the end

“What the fuck” Josh winced as the questions got more personal. Cock size, sexuality, perceived popularity. Josh decided to answer as he didn’t want to get disqualified and entered the form. Not that long after a man in what seemed like a doctor's uniform comes out from a secure door

“Hello, you must be Josh. My name is Doctor Houston. I’m the head of the VR department. Please follow me” Houston had a very stern voice with a seriousness that he did not want to mess around.

As he started to follow Dr.Houston Josh asked questions “Wow so you have a Ph.D. in gaming or computer science?”

Dr. Houston chuckled before answering “No, I have a MD in Internal medicine. WRG hired me to head the VR department as they want to see the reactions the body takes to long-term virtual reality gaming… and here we are” He finished saying as he opened a room to some sort of laboratory containing a monitor, sleek white gaming equipment and some sport of large computer. On the other side a window looking into what seemed to be a control room

As Josh walks in he hears a door close and lock

“Hey, what’s going on” he screams while banging at the door. After a moment he notices dr Houston walk into the control room across the room and sit down at a desk facing the main room.

Over the speaker “Dear Josh, I will be monitoring your experience from over here. Please strap onto the center platform near the screen so we can start”

Josh felt like this program was more of a medical drug trial and video game testing but decided to continue with what the doctor said anyway. As he walked up to the platform he put his two feet on the conveniently designated spots and looked at the screen as it turned on.

“Welcome player to your new life”

wait new life what did it mean by that. Before Josh could react clamps came out of the ground and attached to his feet holding him in place

“Hey what’s the meaning of this” he screamed

“Please stay calm as we proceed,” the doctor said over the speaker

Large laser pointers came from the side of the computer. “Beginning digitization” the computer screen announced

“Wait what?? What’s happening”

Slowly two beams from the computer started to travel up his body as everything it touched slowly disintegrated

“AHHHHH FUCK IT BURNS STOP IT STOP IT PLEASE” Josh pleated to the computer and the doctor or anyone that would notice

As the computer continued up his body in a burning pain he noticed on the screen a complete 1 to 1 replica of himself….. wait no not a replica that was him…

The computer finally made it up to his head as he pleaded one last time “PLEASE I DON'T WAN…..” He was caught off as his head was completely overwhelmed by the lights

Suddenly Josh regained consciousness but now he is in some white room with nothing around. He then hears a noise

“Customization available……. Character template chooses… JOCK…….. PROCEEDING MODIFICATIONS”

“What is happening stop this” Josh screamed but no one was around to hear him as his clothes completely vanished out of nowhere.

Slowly his body started to change to correspond to the data inside the computer

First Josh's feet grew from his regular size 9s to a huge size 14 which would be making noise anytime he walked anywhere. As the changes traveled upwards his calfs and leg muscles grew. His thighs ended up looking like watermelons and could easily break one if he wanted to between the two.

“Oh fuckkkkkkkkkk” Josh moaned as the changes continued

His cock and balls were next to change as his penis started to pull outwards slowly inching from a 6….7….8…….9……10 and finally ending at a huge size 11 which would make anyone fucked with It limp for days. His ball felt sore as they grew to baseballs filled with cum ready to fill and breed. The last touch to his groin area was the re-growth of his foreskin and ended with a continues leaky cock.

The changes moved to his torso as his abs started to chisel themselves one by one making a road all the way to the growing mountains that were his pecs. His chest looked like it was being inflated and his pecs were the Mount Everest of the range with a pointed nipple which faced downwards due to the muscle growth onto of his pecs.

“Ughh please make it stop…” Josh moaned as the changes continued

Next, his arms grew with his biceps growing to the size of footballs and his hands matching to be able to palm and grab any ball he wanted. The next set of changes started to settle in as hair started to grow across his body. His armpits started to burst out with hairs so thick that even when he put his arms down they would spew from the sizes. Next hair started to travel across his chest and legs thinking and giving him a nice rug that accentuated his already defined muscles. Lastly, but most importantly his bush started to grow more and more from his groin. Anytime of pants or underwear won’t be able to cover the spillage that will be coming over the top of them.

Josh was in a dazed state as the changes started to subside and finish up. He didn’t know how to feel…. Horny? Confused? Scared? Everything seemed so different as he started to hear the voice again.

“MODIFICATIONS COMPLETE….. STANDARD JOCK REGISTERED…… NAME: CHRIS HERNANDEZ… REGISTERED”

Wait that wasn’t his name why would it say that was someone entering all of this

“GAME WILL BEGIN MOMENTARILY… PLEASE HOLD”

Soon everything went black and it felt like Josh fell asleep.

“Oh god…. where am I” Josh woke up in what seemed to be a house much different to his one. It felt almost generated. Against his will, Josh got up from his bed and started to move to the kitchen where his body made a protein-heavy breakfast.

“Omg stop why can’t I control my body what is happening,” Josh thought in his mind completely scared of what was going on. Unbeknownst to him outside the computer his body was being fully controlled by someone on the outside.

After eating the breakfast his body immediately got up and started to walk to a new room filled with gym equipment. “Oh god no,” Josh thought.. His body started to go through an intensive workout against his will.

by the end of it he was completely exhausted with the last bits of energy he had he was able to take control for a moment and scream out

“HELP IM STUCK” . . .

“Um Doctor, there seems to be an issue,” the voice said

“What seems to be the problem?”

“The character said something weird… “Help, Im stuck” in like screaming pattern” he responded

“Ahh that’s strange don’t worry about that. We can fix that in the next patch. Might just be grabbing from some unused text files. Thank you for pointing it out” The doctor replied as he walked away taking notes and smirking

Josh was now completely trapped inside WRG new game “US” a life simulation game where gamers can be anyone their dreams can be. Unluckily for Josh, he was stuck being the complete opposite of his original self. Now is a template of a stereotypical jock for those who are too lazy to create their own characters in the game.

.

.

I hope you all enjoy. This was a story swap with @axeegliter. Check out their story and blog!

[thegainingdesk]

The Shirt

Ollie had to admit it to himself - he kind of looked sexy. His new shirt looked and felt great and he didn't know the last time he'd felt so confident. He usually didn't go for patterns, but there was something about the cute little dancing bear motif that really charmed him.

He'd held out on buying any size large shirts, convincing himself it was a boundary he wouldn't cross, that he'd lose the small amount of chub he'd accumulated, that he wasn't nearly as big as that yet. Wearing it now, he realised how silly he'd been. Not being constrained from all angles, not having to suck in his middle all the time, not having to worry about bending down or twisting the wrong way - it was like a weight was lifted.

Looking in the mirror now, finally wearing clothes that fit, it was obvious that most of the size was in his head. What's a large, really? Nothing. Okay, he wasn't skinny, but he wasn't fat either - he'd always been naturally broad, hadn't he? He was never going to fit into mediums like his mates. He just didn't look like a kid anymore.

"Looking good man!" Geoff said, sticking his head through the door. "New shirt? We're heading off in a bit, you joining?"

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute," Ollie said, smoothing the front of the shirt down and taking one last look at himself. Time to upgrade the rest of his wardrobe if it's all going to look this good, he thought to himself.

-

"You okay?" Ollie's date Malik asked, one eyebrow raised. "You look a little uncomfortable."

"No, it's fine," Ollie said as he tugged his shirt down and tucked it in for what must have been the tenth time since he'd reached the bar. "Really, I'm fine. My shirt's just a bit stiff. Reckon I must have washed it funny. Sorry, you were saying about your course?"

"Right, okay," Malik said slowly. "Anyway, like I was saying, it's so interesting looking at all these artists all together, I just…"

Ollie struggled to listen, instead fiddling with his shirt. It strained a little in his armpit, seemed to pull at the side, the way he rolled up his sleeves seemed to cut into his arms in a way they didn't usually. He hoped he could fix whatever he'd done in the wash - he'd come to think of it as his lucky date night shirt.

Still, it wasn't all bad. It was more comfortable to have the top couple of buttons open and he found the effect of his chest hair spilling out quite sexy. He wondered idly if it really was the shirt or it might be his body - after all, he'd borrowed Geoff's dumbbells a couple of times recently. He tried to flex his pecs a little. Yeah, that was it - he was just bulking at the moment. When he got around to cutting he'd look phenomenal in this shirt.

-

"Fucking hell mate, what's that about?" Geoff laughed as Ollie walked up.

Ollie looked down at himself, looking for stains, only to see the familiar dancing bear pattern. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"That shirt! It barely fits!" their mate Dan said, howling with laughter.

"Oh, right, that. It's, well I mean, it does fit," he stumbled on his words as his fingers tried to tug the bottom of the shirt towards his waistband, trying not to get too turned on by the feeling of brushing against the soft fat. "I'm just bloated at the moment, that's all. This is my best shirt, it fits perfectly."

"Fits perf… Right, gotcha," Geoff said, his shoulders shaking a little as he chuckled into his pint. "Well, I'm not being funny, but I think you've been bloated for a while now Ollie."

Ollie grinned, making a show of how little he cared. He did his best to ignore how the buttons gaped and cut into his middle as he sat down, even as he sucked his gut in. He set his pint down and flipped the menu open. "You lot eating then?"

Dan burst out laughing again. "You were bloated a second ago, what you wanting to eat for?"

"No, it's not like that," Ollie protested. "I didn't mean, bloated bloated, you know. I mean like, you know, it's just retaining water. You know, from the protein - I'm bulking," returning to his oft stated excuse whenever he was asked why he was eating so much.

Dan and Geoff exchanged a look. "Retaining water, right," Dan said, as Geoff muttered "Got to keep up the bulk."

Six pints, a burger and chips and a couple of side orders of onion rings later, Ollie struggled to suck in his gut anymore. As he walked back to their table, he did his best to hold the pints in front of the gaps in between his buttons where his belly hair was poking through. He set the pints down, exhaled as he lowered himself into his seat slowly and-

A ping rang out as the button hit Dan's pint, who fell under the table laughing. Ollie's hand flew down to his stomach, feeling the expanse of skin and hair now visible in the space opened up.

"Jesus Christ Ollie!" Geoff said, laughing. "Buy some new fucking shirts! Right, well we'll have to head home now, won't we?"

"What for?" Ollie asked. "Because it's your round next? Nah, don't worry about me, shirt's not going to fix itself by getting home any earlier, is it?" He wondered how much of a spectacle he could make of himself by the time they left. "Do you reckon they're still doing food?"

-

"What the fuck are you doing?"

As Ollie turned around the see Geoff stood in his now open doorway, he heard a rip and felt a breeze at his side. His hands scrambled for the two still-fastenable button on the shirt, his clumsy fingers struggling against the tension in the fabric. He inhaled, strained to shrink his swollen stomach just a touch. His fingers found some purchase, dug underneath the first button-hole, then the second, and the sides of the shirt burst open. He exhaled, and his gut hung out and down, the two halves of fabric framing his heft.

"Sorry Geoff, I was just, uhh." He looked around the room, trying to think of some plausible explanation. He hoped his gut, or at least the attention it was drawing, might hide his throbbing cock. He knew it wouldn't, especially with how tight his trousers were. "I wanted to see if this shirt still fit."

"Right, well, it doesn't," Geoff said. He looked to the side, clearly trying to spare Ollie's dignity by some small measure. "I think you'd sort of be able to tell without trying it on, to be honest."

Ollie shifted, and he tried to ignore the way his body wobbled and folded, willing his erection to stop. "I thought I'd maybe see how bad the damage was," he said with a small chuckle.

"I mean, do you really want to…" Geoff sighed. "The damage is pretty fucking bad, if you really want to know," he said, still averting his gaze. "You were smaller than me in first year, now you're… fuck Ollie, you're properly fucking fat."

Ollie nodded, reveling in the way his chins creased against each other. "I appreciate the honesty mate, really," he said. "I've uhh, started a diet," he lied. "Thought it could be an inspiration thing, you know, see if I can fit back into it at some point."

Geoff closed the door a little, shuffling out the room. "Right, well… anyway, we're going to the pub," his voice came through the door. "If you want to join."

Ollie peeled the shirt off his body, doing his best not to increase the size of the hole in the side seam. "Yeah, I'll be with you in a bit," he said, the sleeve inside out and sliding past his sausage-like arm. "You eating there, do you reckon?"

-

Ollie panted and strained. With one hand he gathered as much of his gut as he could, with the other he leaned past and underneath to what little remained uncovered of his dick. He squeezed his eyes shut against a wave of pleasure.

The shirt cradled his breasts like a makeshift hammock, a single button hidden in the deep crevice above his belly and below his chest. His rhythm halted for a moment as he dug one hand into a tiramisu and brought it to his mouth, cream smearing across his face. He grunted as he did his best to reach beneath himself, and he began to buck and thrust against his own hand, helping himself along.

He plunged his fingers into his mouth, counting the calories as he sucked down the last of the rich dessert, as he quivered and a sticky wetness covered his hand and filled the soft unknown beneath his quivering middle. He brought his hand up and smeared his cum against his shirt, falling back against his pillows. The motion proved too much for the tortured fabric, and it finally gave out, the button falling to the mattress and the shirt falling open around soft hairy man tits.

-

Ollie waddled as quickly as he could to the stall, and he smiled at the young woman manning it. He thumbed through the hangers, each shirt brushing against the furthest extent of his gut. 

"I used to have this one!" he told her cheerfully, pulling one out and holding it out, looking closely at the images of little dancing bears. "I've been looking for it for years. I outgrew it ages ago, I'd sort of given up hope of replacing it."

"Oh, right," the woman said, an uncertain smile on her face. "Well maybe we'll be able to help you with that."

Ollie grinned. "Maybe - what sizes do you do?"

The woman looked Ollie up and down. "Well, you see…" She looked around, as if searching for help. "We only stock up to XL, but we can do custom orders to 3XL." The last part was added with a clear tone of hope, however vain.

"Ah, right," Ollie said. "Not sure when I last wore 3XL. A couple of years at least."

The shop assistant smiled awkwardly. Ollie knew that look well - no one knew how to respond when he talked about his weight so openly. "I'll take a 3XL anyway," he said, thinking about how hot it was to obliterate the last one.

"Do you want to try it on?" the assistant asked, happy to be back to more standard shop-floor conversation.

"Oh no, don't worry. There's no chance of it actually fitting," Ollie laughed.

"Ah, okay then," the shop assistant smiled, her confusion apparent. "For one day in the future, maybe?"

Ollie shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He paid for the shirt and left. He couldn't wait until this shirt fit as poorly as the previous one.

[iamjellyfish]

can you have one where Soshiro (😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍💕💕💕💕💕❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️) and Y/N are child hood friends and are both defense officers, Y/N is super kind, polite, and cheerful, almost always smiling and teasing and making jokes (specifically with Soshiro, they're besties) nothing could ever be wrong with her, she has a smile as bright as the sun!... Right?

Soshiro, would always just find Y/N in the forest or Y/N would sneak into his house, and train with him (even though they was weak and lacked the proper nutrients to even carry twenty pounds) they would still try, Soshiro forced her to eat all the time, sneaking food out for her, he never questioned her though, and when he did Y/N just avoided the question , joked about something and put a grin on their face. Soshiro often asked if they ok, because she's unfed most the time. He knew they went some hard things but .... not to the extent of what she's been through... I mean losing everyone you care hurts. at the ripe age of 4 she witnessed the death of her family, gaining multiple scars from the incident . She still hates herself more than that kaiju though... Why? ... Despite has still Y/N never cried or showed and signs of anger in front of anyone... until now, Soshiro finds Y/N sobbing quietly, letting all her hatred, sadness ,anger , heart break, finally let out ... Soshiro OBVIOUSLY comforts her because he's the best (boy)friend ever!

sorry for making it so long, and if the request isn't anything you like to write!

❥ A/n: Oooo, I like the lore; I had been thinking that the reader could join the defense force for a smart plan or tricks similar to Kafka (supporting others).

Oh yea I changed the timeline for events in reader's past a bit:p

❥Warning: potentially broken grammar, angst/comfort, mention of death, self-destruct behaviors from reader, ... not proofread, I write this half-awake.

You and Soshiro were best friends from childhood. It's probably because you're the type to get curious and sneak into his house one day and be amazed by Soshiro's fighting style. Soshiro, back then, was a bit discouraged because the era of swords had long gone, and reaching to be a defense force officer seemed unrealistic, yet seeing you amazed when he was training and offered to train with him and share about how much you like katana because "they're just so cool" make him happy.

You were his ball of sunshine, even if you don't realize it; your cheerful voice, your smiles, and your kind gestures here and there make him so in love with you. And the best thing is, you were always joking and teasing him, it made him feel at home as long as you were there.

"Soshi should be careful, I might charm you too much that you might forget to train and be my husband!"

You, at the age of 8, are teasing him, yet he grins back and holds out his bamboo katana. He is still training yet he always stops a little to talk with you every few minutes while you watch.

"Why can't I do both? I clearly can make time for both marrying you and training."

He stops a little to pinch your cheek. And when he sees you blush, he laughs a little yet when got older and thinks back, it's quite true, he could definitely do both, marrying you and sharpening his katana techniques!

You were a free soul; you were polite to adults, yes, but still, you're someone who doesn't follow the rules a lot. You love the forest and would spend time enjoying nature, hearing the wind or the nearby river that had many cool rocks and flowers nearby. You would always bring some cool rocks or flowers that remind you of him when you go on this little adventure in the forest. Soshiro always cherishes your gifts even though he didn't show it too much.

But when you turn 12, something is always odd about you, at least after you went missing a few weeks ago and returned like nothing had happened, you refused to talk about it, so he can't really press you about it. You look like you lack the needed nutrients, always so skinny and weak, you look like you would fly away if the wind is a bit too strong. He doesn't mind, though; he got used to sneaking food out for you, and seeing you enjoy eating what he made makes him really happy.

After years of being best friends and feeding you throughout your teenage years, you both fell in love with each other. You both confess at the same time before you both get into the defense force. You love him deeply, and no doubt he is head over heels for you.

He knows you love him yet something about you is distance. To put it into words, Hoshina feels like you are hiding something from him but he can't really tell. You always smile, of course, he loves your smiles! But he feels like there is a deeper matter to this, so he tracks to the old times and investigates a little; you won't mind that, right? It's just that you won't answer his questions and always try to change the subject, so he gets a little worry.

Hoshina always knew you went through something when you were a kid, but you never told him; just bundle it all into your little heart. So when he investigated, he found out that the day you go missing for a week was the time that your parent was brutally murdered by kaiju. He had some theory but it was best to ask you.

So when you both get the day off, Hoshina and you get home, and he prepares your favorite food while you prepare his favorite snacks and coffee. He wanted to start the conversation softly to not trigger you so he started with a little small talk.

"Y/n, did you eat properly these days?"

He said softly, looking into your e/c eyes while waiting for your answer; his hands were playing with the food a little. You just shrug and try to answer it to get over with.

"I guess."

"I know what happened that day that you go missing. You were hiding, didn't you? Your parent got murdered by kaiju, and you were hiding, and it took a few days to find you"

He reaches his hand out to comfort you while you just sit there frozen. The memories that you bury deep under the rubble of your feelings that day. You want to run away, to hide, but it's Hoshina, your dear Hoshina.

"Please don't, let's stop this topic."

You said, sadness bleeds in those words of yours; you hated it, hated yourself for the simple fact that you were helpless that day. You were mad at the kaiju, yes, but the guilt of surviving the life that was traded for your parents' lives made you sick to the stomach. You were hard on yourself, trying harder and harder to achieve higher things to avenge your parent; that way, you could say your parent traded their lives for something worthy.

Hoshina knew this; at least, he knew right now when he saw the dark cloud on your head. He rushes over to hug you while you start crying, confronting your own guilt. He gently pats your back and gives you little kisses quite he comforts you.

"It's okay alright? I know ya try your best but it's time to start letting go of the past. It's hard, but I'm here to support you. Now, you can pour your heart out to me."

"I don't want to dump it all on you..."

You mutter, you bury your head in his shoulders. You subconsciously hug him tight as he comforts you. He looks at you with scarlet eyes and smiles lightly.

"You're my everything. It's okay. Just tell me, I'm ready to carry the guilt you have in your heart."

Just like that, you cry like a kid pouring everything that keeps your chest heavy throughout the years to him quite Hoshina just comforts you with hugs and kisses, listening to everything you have to say.

A/n: I'm going to sleep.

[brodygold]

A Chance Encounter

Nick had never been very athletic. He was much more comfortable with his nose buried in a book or behind a computer screen, where he could escape into the world of coding and gaming. His skinny frame, pale skin, and thick glasses screamed “nerd” from a mile away, and he was fine with that. At 24, he had accepted that sports just weren’t his thing. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

One warm evening, Nick was on his way home from the bookstore, his backpack full of new reads, when he realized he had taken a wrong turn. Instead of heading toward his usual shortcut through the park, he ended up on the edge of a large soccer field, where a group of adults in golden jerseys was practicing. The field was alive with activity—players running drills, passing the ball with precision, and shouting instructions to one another. The energy was palpable, and Nick found himself rooted to the spot, watching in awe.

The team was impressive, to say the least. They moved with a fluidity and power that Nick could hardly fathom. Every pass, every kick, seemed perfectly timed, like a well-oiled machine. Among them, two players stood out—Griffin and Brody. Griffin was tall and broad-shouldered, with a confident stride that commanded attention. Brody, slightly shorter but equally muscular, moved with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. Even from a distance, Nick could sense the connection between them—the way they exchanged smiles, the subtle touches, the unspoken communication. It was clear they were more than just teammates.

Nick was so engrossed in watching that he didn’t notice when one of the players spotted him. It was Griffin who jogged over first, his smile friendly but curious. “Hey there, didn’t expect to see a spectator tonight,” he said, his voice warm.

Nick blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… I got lost and ended up here.”

Griffin waved off his apology. “No worries. We’re always happy to have an audience. I’m Griffin.” He glanced over his shoulder at Brody, who had jogged over to join them. “This is Brody, by the way.”

Brody gave Nick a nod and a grin. “You play soccer?”

Nick shook his head quickly, feeling even more out of place. “No, not at all. I’m more into books and computers.”

Griffin exchanged a look with Brody, and Nick could see the unspoken communication between them. “Well, you’re here now,” Griffin said, his smile widening. “Why not give it a shot? You might surprise yourself.”

Nick chuckled nervously, holding up his hands. “I don’t think I’m really cut out for it. I’ve never been good at sports.”

Brody tilted his head, studying Nick for a moment. “You know, everyone starts somewhere. Besides, we could use a new face around here. What do you say?”

Nick hesitated, the logical part of his brain telling him to politely decline and make a quick exit. But there was something about Griffin and Brody—something about the way they spoke to him, not with the condescension he was used to, but with genuine interest—that made him pause. Against his better judgment, he found himself nodding. “Okay, I guess I could try.”

Griffin’s grin widened. “Awesome. We’ve got some spare gear. Let’s get you suited up.”

Before Nick knew it, he was being led to the sidelines, where a pile of golden jerseys and shorts awaited. He felt a little self-conscious as he took off his glasses and changed into the gear, the jersey hanging loosely on his scrawny frame. But when he pulled the jersey over his head, something strange happened.

The moment the fabric touched his skin, Nick felt a surge of warmth, followed by a tingling sensation that spread through his entire body. He looked down, eyes widening as he watched his skinny arms begin to fill out with muscle, his chest broadening, his legs growing stronger and more defined. His posture straightened, and he could feel his coordination improving, as if his body were suddenly capable of things it had never been able to do before. His vision also improved, removing his need for glasses.

When he looked up, Griffin and Brody were watching him with knowing smiles, as if they had seen this transformation before. “Feeling good?” Griffin asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Nick flexed his new muscles, disbelief still flooding his mind. “What just happened?”

Brody chuckled. “Welcome to the Golden Army, man. The jersey does more than just look good—it brings out the athlete in you.”

Nick could hardly believe it, but the evidence was right there, staring back at him in the form of his own reflection in a nearby window. He was no longer the scrawny nerd he had been just minutes ago. He looked like a full-fledged soccer jock, with the strength, power, and confidence to match.

“Well, since you’re officially one of us now, you’ll need a new name,” Griffin said, clapping him on the back with a force that would have sent the old Nick sprawling but now only made him grin. “Welcome to the team, Chase.”

Nick—no, *Chase*—felt a rush of pride at the name. It was a name that fit this new version of himself, a name that carried with it the strength and power of the Golden Army. He looked at Griffin and Brody, feeling a sense of belonging he had never experienced before.

As the practice resumed, Chase found himself right in the thick of it, running drills, passing the ball with precision, and moving with the kind of confidence he had only ever seen in others. He was no longer an outsider, no longer the awkward nerd who didn’t belong. He was Chase, a soccer jock, a member of the Golden Army.

And as the sun set on the field, Chase knew that his life had changed in ways he could never have imagined. He had stumbled onto the field by accident, but he was leaving it as part of something greater, something that had transformed him from the inside out. And with Griffin, Brody, and the rest of the team by his side, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[starry-bi-sky]

for clone Danny, Clone Damian

I give you

Edit Clone Talia as somehow Girlfriend of Danny, just think of the comedy

nah brO BECAUSE LITERALLY I HAVE THOUGHT BOUT THAT. Literally since the conception of Clone Danny, I have thought about it. If only for, as you said, the COMEDY of it all. Plus I love writing romance.

Literally my motto for my aus is: A) is it plausible, B) is it FUNNY (and a secret third option C) is it ANGSTY)

Clone Talia would be an offshoot au of Clone^2 because idk how she'd fit into the original timeline, bUT, she'd exist. And to avoid confusion I'll call her Nasra - I thought about Tameka (which means twin) but I like Nasra better. "Talia and Nasra" just flows so nicely doesn't it?

Idk WHY there's a clone of Talia running around -- maybe the LoA made her, maybe n unknown organization who hates Batman and knows he has romantic ties to Talia, and started making a clone of her to fuck with him and then she got nabbed by a portal when she was still Danny's age and in the middle of training. She might be like Connor (??) and have memories and thus her training is more proficient than baby Dames.

Either way, regardless of how she was made, I think it's hilarious if she, much like baby Dames, immediately attacks Danny on sight. She falls into his city and Danny only has a moment to go "goddammit not agaIN" before he's fending off a very confused, very violent Nasra. Fortunately he's able to actually try and talk to her and be at least somewhat successful -- Nasra knows english. although even if she didn't, Danny would still be somewhat successful since he knows Arabic.

Also Bruce and Danny are the battinson bat because i think that is also hilarious and 'wet rat' is STILL the perfect energy for Danny as Phantom - especially in the early days when he's running around in all but jeans and a hoodie. (and god watch me go on a rant in a separate post about his outfit and reasonings for being Phantom when he has no powers later on because it makes me go FERAL. and his active choice to look as inhuman and ghost-like through his behavior as phantom and the decision to wear such a creepy mask as possible)

(like seriously, imagine walking home late at night while danny was still in his early vigilante days (and even now when he's got damian and a better suit) and seeing a skinny figure in the shadows with sunken in black-and-glowing-green eyes, and a bone white, skull-like face, crouched on all fours like a wild animal about to pounce. THAT is the level of creepiness I was going for for clone danny)

In my head, Sam offers to house Nasra and Nasra stays with her. SAm is able to convince her parents to let her stay, or she pulls a Danny and just straight up smuggles her in and her parents are none the wiser. I also think it's funny if they have unspoken BEEF with each other. Only to later become like sisters. Nasra teaches Sam the martial arts she knows, and also Danny joins in too with Damian because goddamn he needs it even IF he's learning stuff from his mom (as per the most recent snippet post I made).

OH AND DAMIAN AND NASRA. I think it's equally as funny if they ALSO have beef with each other. Nasra is a clone of his mother (of whom he might have complicated views on due to being a clone but still is his mother) and Damian is a clone of Nasra's "son". This beef largely starts from Damian's own refusal to want to share his Danny with another clone, especially with a clone of his MOTHER.

Danny and Nasra don't become lovers for a good, long while I think. They're besties first before they even consider the idea of dating -- not only just because of the whole "uhhh our counterparts dated so it'd feel kinda weird and forced if we dated" and also because Nasra, with her newfound freedom, is busy trying to figure out herself.

A big theme here in clone^2: discovering your identity and who you are as a person when the only thing you own that's unique is your name (which isn't even the case for Damian), and figuring out if your choices are your own or because you're a clone and its something your original would have done. Nature vs Nurture and the illusion of choice and whether it really is one or not.

Also Nasra also becomes a vigilante. Danny appreciates the help but is also tearing out his hair because what the fuck is up with these assassins and becoming vigilantes?! Nasra goes by "Nesha". She's similar to Red Huntress at first where she kinda does her own thing, but is lowkey forced to team up with Danny about it because she doesn't have any proper ghost hunting equipment with her.

And then a duo becomes a trio, and Danny is spending more time with her. And they steadily become friends. Very snarky friends who are very bratty to each other, but friends. Damian still doesn't like her so Danny spends extra time during patrol keeping the two of them from making insults at each other.

"Nesha please stop fighting with a nine year old. Wraith, quit insulting Nesha."

Nasra also uses like, weaponry as Nesha which exasperates Danny a little because why are you using swords??? They're already dead its not gonna kill them,,,, If you cut off their heads its just gonna piss em off, its re-attachable. Let him ghost-proof it first too. But well, its still gonna HURT he supposes. He's still a little exasperated.

And MMM i'm sorry lmao im so focused on Nasra becoming her own person than the actual romance aspect of it all. Nasra cuts her hair short for the same/similar reasons that Danny keeps his long - to try and gain a semblance of autonomy and identity that's away from their original. Danny has his alternative rock-kinda geeky look and Nasra's got, from influence from Sam, a more alternative fashion style. Although she still leans into being feminine, which is a good challenge to Sam's belief that feminity = bad, and gets her to unlearn those bad habits since her new adoptive sister is feminine while still being an unapologetic badass.

And ykw I think Nasra gets into rollerblading and loves it. She rollerblades constantly. Damian is furious because skating is his thing (even if what he gets later on is a skateboard - skater boy damian ftw. i can see him wearing flannels and graphic tees as a teenager. very grungy/skater aesthetic. He also has a much more relaxed and teen-y speech pattern compared to DW's more formal way of talking. He also spray paints as his form of artistic medium.) and he refuses to have Nasra be a copy of him.

They will sort out their differences eventually. LMao.

Anyways they eventually do get together, but not before Danny finally has his run in with Mister Wayne. Which, they only meet because Danny starts destabilizing, and thus needs Bruce Wayne's DNA to help stabilize himself. Which that meeting in and of itself is pretty chaotic on its own, but then add clone Damian and Nasra? Bruce needs coffee.. or alcohol.

Because picture this: its late at night, you're on patrol with the rest of your family. It's like, two in the morning. You suddenly get a call in from your butler, Alfred, informing you that not one, not two, but THREE children -- two of them in their late teens and the other one not even ten yet -- showed up on your doorstep. One of them is unconscious. They are all clones.

The girl and the boy are twins - and are clones of YOU - and the girl isn't even technically YOUR clone she's a clone of your clone - and also this clone of you is your college friends' kid. And then the youngest boy is a clone of your youngest SON. Bruce is running across rooftops when he gets this call and does a literal 180 degree turn and touches the ground because he basically did a figure skating turn, and sprints back towards the manor because what the fuck? He needs to check this out.

And then half a day later a clone of your fucking ex shows up on your doorstep demanding to see the clone of you - the boy that is, not the girl - and then immediately gets into a verbal lashing with the clone of your son. Like what a fucking DAY. Your kids are equally as baffled but also laughing their asses off -- except your bio son, who is very unhappy about this turn of events and keeps getting the stink eye from his clone.

Like??? I'd quit right then and there.

While Danny recovers he's staying in Wayne manor and Damian is very reportedly not leaving his side. Ellie has to leave to help take care of Amity Park with RH, and then Nasra is also very determinedly not leaving his side either. This is her friend dammit. The first thing she does when he becomes lucid is insult him, and he insults her back - they're bantering. It's how they flirt later on. None of the Bats know how to deal with this situation.

[jamethinks]

I like writing fan fiction as so I often come up with random hcs to help the fill the gaps, develop (or predict) relationships or just add an additional layer of complexity to a story. Sometimes it gets banished to the fic but sometimes it becomes so fixated it appears every time to the point you’d think it was actually canon.

So here some more Spyxfamily head canons: Forgers edition

(I don’t remember what I put in the previous renditions so there might be a few repeats)

Twilight is half French (mom) half German (dad) and is fluent in both languages as well as English and Swiss (I wonder why)

After spending so much time with him, Twilight has sometimes acts as immature as Yuri (he gets so tired he just resorts to mocking)

Anya’s favorite colour isn’t pink people just assume it is and give her pink things. She actually prefers darker muted colours but is forced to dress in pastels

Anya’s hair isn’t pink or at least that’s not how people would describe it, instead they say a soft brown colour

After Twilight barely made any progress, Handler assigned herself as Anya’s godmother (a friend of Anya’s mom) and occasionally steals Anya

Becky takes ballet classes because it makes Martha happy but she sucks and hates it so she’s convinced Anya to join in torture

Twilight reads Anya detective/spy books to help improve her literacy skills

Anya was very skinny and light when she was first adopted so Twilight would carry her around like a bag of flour but now she’s a lot chubbier and he actually gets pain in his back and arm because of it

Westalians eat a mainly vegetarian diet with the only common meats being Chicken and fish while Ostanians love red meats and consider a meal incomplete without it. So when they first started living together Twilight started with a more Westalian diet but Yor almost died so he had to do more research (for the mission)

Technically Anya is Ostanian but she actively chooses to identify as Westalian (it’s what on her birth certificate)

Anya has so many toys some of them have to be stored in Twilight’s empty ass bedroom

After their parents died, Yuri and Yor were left in the custody of their aunt who mysteriously disappeared one day

Twilight practices making French pastries with Anya (for developmental purposes not bonding or to pass on culture, it’s for the mission) and she obviously butchers them every time and when they’re done they give it to Yuri and pretends Yor made them

Because Twilight’s mom was French and he pulls a lot from her when dealing with Anya (his dad was too aggressive) he ends up saying a lot of French words and phrases with her which she doesn’t understand

He calls her ma douce which (according to google) means my sweet. I chose that one because he often tells her “doucement” which means slowly/gently and eventually just started saying douce and giving up. He also calls her Cancard because she’s always waddling about

[justatalkingface]

I JUST FREAKING REALIZED SOMETHING!!!

Aizawa didn’t get into the hero course until his second year and was bullied by Sensoji for being a waste of space.

And Sensoji's actions were justified.

Now stick with me here.

Isn’t it a bit odd how Bakugou's behavior was justified? And I don't mean just in a favoritism way.

Despite how much he was willing to bash Class 1-A, Hitoshi didn't seem to acknowledge Aizawa favoring Bakugou. Not once. This is odd as he was there when Aizawa openly defended Bakugou during the Sports Festival. And you'd think Aizawa would correct Hitoshi's opinions on Class 1-A, but he doesn't.

And with how Aizawa made the battle between both hero courses focus on Hitoshi...

I'm sorry. Correct me if I'm wrong but...

Was Aizawa setting things up for Hitoshi to become like him? Was Bakugou going to be set up to be another Sensoji that Hitoshi had to face off?

Because if the war didn't happen...Hitoshi was going to be in Class 1-A way earlier.

...I don't think Eraserhead is self-aware enough to plan something like, which is saying something because even more self-awareness would tell him how stupid it is, but...

It's hard to get past the fact that, fundamentally, he's a hollow shell of a man. In all likelihood, he was a mess before Oboro, but after he died? I think something just... broke inside him.

This isn't really something I talk about, but at the core of him, Eraserhead is someone going through the motions, just existing one day at a time. He doesn't seem to have... goals. Objectives. Plans. Desires. Dreams. All he really has is his work, and he's not really doing his work well, is the thing. The first thing he does after getting life altering injuries is go back to work the next day, held together by staples and a prayer. Logically, that not only put back his healing, it might have actually worsened how much permanent damage he had.

He works day and night, and it's clear he's not managing his time well by his constant exhaustion, so most likely if he's not doing UA stuff, or being dragged around by his friends, he's off fighting crime. I mean, hell, he barely even eats.

He doesn't shave, he doesn't clean up, he doesn't get his hair cut... all of that stuff is because he probably doesn't have the energy or will to do it, and, real talk? I honestly wonder if he's so skinny because he's malnourished in some form, because those jelly packets or whatever can't actually be meeting all his nutritional needs, especially with how much energy he has to be burning every day.

I think the main reason Present Mic and Midnight got him to join UA was to save his life. Not from a major threat or anything, but from himself. With him at UA, they could dial him back, stop him from running around picking fights and parkouring across roofs 24/7, and maybe even get a real meal in him.

All of the stuff I've been talking about... 'logically', doesn't that ruin his vaulted 'efficiency'?

When Eraserhead says, 'efficiency', or 'logically', or whatever other word he uses to sound smart, he doesn't really mean, 'doing it in the best way possible', even if he's lying to himself that he is; what he's actually saying is 'doing it the most simple and straightforward way possible, right now'. If he thinks a student is too much trouble, rather than trying to fix the problem he just gets rid of them, and if they manage to pull themselves together after he does that? All the better.

The reverse, though, is as long as they aren't too much of a problem, then they're not actually worth punishing, not unless he's basiclly forced to: he doesn't let Bakugou run wild because he likes him, really, he does it because he doesn't think dealing with him is worth his time, the same way he lets Minoru be a creepy little pervert without really doing anything to make him stop, until he finally crosses the line enough that Eraserhead has to be involved, like by putting a kid in danger. The reason his only comment when he holds Bakugou back that first time is about his dry eye is that honestly, that was all he actually cared about: not that he was attacking other students, but that Bakugou was making him do extra work.

It's why the few times we see him actually deal with a student's problems (that weren't his favorite, anyways) is when he was already doing something else involving them in the first place, because if he's already there, working with them, might as well do this other shit, right?

It's only efficient.

To bring it back to your original point, though, I think part of the reason he's such a hypocrite is he doesn't really reflect on himself, or his actions. While he does think on the past, it's not anything productive, it's just him... wallowing in his grief and self loathing.

The reason Hitoshi was the main focus was because, well, Hitoshi was Eraserhead's main focus, so he wanted him to get a lot of the experience everyone else had been having as fast as possible, and beyond that I don't think he was thinking through the implications beyond that.

I've found a lot of Eraserhead's actions make sense if you ignore everything he says, and instead draw a metaphorical straight line between him and whatever it is that he wants to do. It's not deep, it's just so OOC for a normal thought process that it throws you off.

[ann-ndsims]

Seasons of Love Challenge

If you want a mini-challenge that centers on romance, story, and gameplay, then this might be the perfect challenge for you! I introduce to you, the Seasons of Love Challenge! Pair up or create four pairs and be the matchmaker and the writer of their destiny. Get indulged with their story and help them find love by the end of the season!

For each season, we have different couple that may or may not fall in love before the season ends. I recommend that you edit the in-game season length, it can be up to 7, 12, 21 or 25 days per season, depending to you. This challenge can either be rotational or generational, it’s completely up to you. 

Feel free to remove and add some more activities to the following. These are not really rules, but more like guides or checklist that you can do so that you won’t run out of ideas to do for each round, and hopefully, help progress the relationship of the each pair. 

For those who prefer slow-burn romance (like me!) there’s a Slowburn Romance Edition by the end with some set of rules, be sure to check that out! This is supposedly a personal challenge for my game, but I thought it would be nice to share it with the community. If you do this challenge, please don't forget to add the hashtag #TS3SeasonsofLove and mention me, I would love to see other simmers enjoy this little challenge that I've created 💖

Note: You may play this in any order.

SUMMER

trope:  enemies to lovers

backstory:

 - sim A is demoted from her work because of her hotheaded nature, and was assigned in this town where her grandparents/(or) sister live. She absolutely hates that, she wants to go up the ladder and build her name, but how can she do that now that she's demoted and stuck in this town?

 - sim B is carefree and enigmatic, living his life to the fullest. He used to get sick a lot when he was a child and now that he's a teen and rarely gets sick anymore, he wants to break free from those restrictions and do the things he hasn't done in his childhood. 

how things started:

  ~ Just few days before his birthday, sim B is feeling rebellious and wants to spend the best of his teenage days, even if that means breaking the curfew. So, he stayed out late with his friends to party and even went to the beach and lit some fireworks just before he go home. But, on his way home, the police patrol saw him! He knew he's so screwed, but what can he do? He plead with the cop, which happens to be Sim A, but she don't take any of his bullshit. Which eventually leads to some misunderstanding, fight and disliking each other. Guess the last of his teenage day is remarkable afterall, especially if you're being escorted back to your house in police car. 

  ~ If things aren't already worst as they are, he, unfortunately, bumped with the same cop again when she joined the surfing/scuba diving club. Oh well, guess they have to see each other a lot now. Will this be the perfect summer as he imagined, or will it be totally ruined because of that one hot-headed cop?

traits:

childish, athletic, loves the sea

grumpy, natural cook, snob

skills:

Athletics, martial arts, logic

Diving/surfing/swimming, fishing, charming

jobs:

Police

Lifeguard/Scuba diver

misc:

pull booty traps and bicker

prank each other

activities:

scuba dive/surf together

play water balloon fight and pillow fight

throw a pool party and receive positive moodlets. you may do the following:

   * Perform Fireworks Extravaganza (Having three large fireworks i.e. Golden Dragon/Facemelter) during party    * Play in the sand    * play and swim in the water together    * skinny dip together

Try water balloon arena

Spend the summer festival together, join these activities and win Summer Festival Ticket:

  * get holiday greeting card in photobooth   * buy a snow cone   * Get Face Painted       * Skate together   * Soccer Shootout   * HotDog eating contest   * Water Balloon Fights

 date idea: 

Beach date, skinny dip, windsurf, and go boating together, take pictures!

Compete in a bowling alley

Watch a live show performance

Watch a band performance

Recommended Mods: 

Social Club Mod by @phoebejaysims

Surf's Up Sun & Fun Wave store content

SPRING

trope: distant childhood friends to lovers

backstory:

  ~ Sim A and Sim B where inseparable when they're kids. They spent afternoons playing video games, playing with their toys and painting together. But things changed when they entered High School. Sim B moved to a different part of town and became more distant as she found new circle of friends, and eventually, had a boyfriend. She thought it was forever! Only to find out that she's pregnant with someone who totally, totally dislikes children. So, she runaway from home and found herself back to the small apartment where she was raised, back to where sim A lives just next door. 

  ~ Sim A was surprise to see Sim B again. He always wanted to make up and be friends with her again, but he always felt shy and small when he sees her with her new set of friend and popular boyfriend. Now that she's back, will he finally have the courage to talk to her again? 

  ~ Moreover, can Sim B raised this child alone? And will she find comfort again with the boy next door?

traits: 

artistic, dramatic, friendly

socially awkward, artistic, handy

skills:

handiness, inventing, video game

painting

activities:

play video games together

go to karaoke and have a duet

play hopscotch together

compete in darts

visit each other's house and chat

Attend Spring Festival/Love Day together and do the following activities:

    * send love letters     * Slow Dance during Spring Festival     * Spring Dance Queen and Spring Dance King (optional)     * Hunt eggs     * Try kissing booths!     * Try the Love tester machine      * roller skate together     * Play horseshoes together

sim A must make a portrait of the other

sim B must make a toy for sim A's child

misc:

they must be distant friends at start

let Sim A go to parenting classes

let sim B know about the pregnancy before they start dating

Date idea: 

~ Park date, cook the dishes that you will bring, and watch the sunset/sunrise

~ Go to greenhouses and take pictures together in flower fields

~ Amusement park date

AUTUMN

trope: Second chance romance

backstory:

  ~ Sim A and Sim B are highschool sweethearts. They dreamed of living together and building their family when they were teens. They thought it was forever. But things took a drastic change when Sim B suddenly disappeared when his father died, leaving him to live with his mother in France, leaving sim B behind. Sim B never expected this, she never expected to bear a child with Sim A as well. She can't seem to find him anymore, but still, she decided that she will raise this child. 

  ~ Years later, Sim B discovered that their child was sick and only had a few months left. Pile with grief, the kid is constantly looking for his/her father as well. Sim B doesn't want to let her child rest without seeing his/her father. So, again, she tried to look for him. And she found him! Turns out that he's now a rockstar in France, with a name and career. After knowing all of this, he quickly booked the ticket back to their town.

  ~ Will him coming back after years of disappearance mend their broken hearts and finally build the family they've dreamed? Or will they stay together just for the sake of their dying child?

traits:

green-thumb, nurturing, coward

virtuoso, charismatic, materialistic

skill:

Guitar, drums, bass, charming

Cooking, canning, gardening

job:

Music career: Rockstar

Gardener

activities:

take care and grow a plant together

catch butterflies and fireflies on the cottage

play in the pile of leaves

Attend Fall Festival together (with their child). Join in activities and actually have fun!

  * Apple Bobbing contest   * Pie Eating contest   * Enter Haunted House

- Throw a costume or feast party during or before Spooky Time Holiday. You may do the following for the party:

* Plant and grow pumpkins    ~ make Jack-o-lanterns, or;    ~ bake pumpkin pies (or both) * wear costumes for the party * cook and bake the dishes for the party * Let their child do trick-or-treat

must spend time as a family every weekend together and go out of town

must teach the child and help with his/her homework

must accomplish every child's wish

must be a good parent to the child

Both must be best friends with their child

must not argue or fight in front of the child

the child may or may not die

misc:

sell harvestable or jams in the market

Sim B must play for tips on the park

optional woohoo spot:

 woohoo in pile of leaves

date idea: 

~ Coffee Date with just the two of you wearing couple outfits, take pictures!

~ Watch a horror movie together

~ Watch in theater

~ Go to a dive bar or lounge

recommended store content:

Canning Station (store content)

Produce Stand Mod

WINTER

trope: force cohabitation

backstory:

~ After getting tired of the big city, Sim A decides to travel, and he happens to land in this very town and rent in Sim B’s place. He’s a successful author, but he’s very shy and introverted and all the socialization and parties of the big city aren’t for him. He find this new town peaceful and gives him more inspiration to write. Perhaps, he can spend the winter holiday here, or will he decide to settle down in this quiet little town?

~ The death of her mother brings Sim B so much grief. Now that she’s just living on her own, she decides to open again their old bakery and let travelers rent her place. She’s a loner, more now that her mother, her only bestfriend died. Now she just spends her time baking and selling and knitting to ease her mind, will this new traveler who stays with her bring some color in her dull life? 

traits:

shy, brooding, bookworm

loner, perfectionist, unlucky

skills:

Knitting, baking

Writing

job:

Author

Bakery Owner

misc:

- Hang Holiday Lights

- Buy a mistletoe

activities:

- must give gifts to each other

- Attend Winter Festival Together

~ Snowflake Day is held last Thursday of Winter ~ don't do any work. make sure to have positive moodlets and enjoy the festival.   * Take greeting card photos   * snowboard together   * ice skate together

attend (or hold) a gift-giving party

* give gift to each other ~ gift idea: a book written by him, and a cloth knitted by her

make snowmen together

build an igloo together, sleep there

Make snow angels

Have snowball fights

Swim in cold water

kiss under the mistletoe before the season ends

optional: 

the author can sell his book in the bakery itself, or make a mini library space (You can use this mod from nraas)

Sim B can sell the knitted products she did in the bakery

they must work together while the other is writing and the other is knitting

the author must finish at least 3 novels before winter ends

sim B must make at least 2000 simoleons from selling bake goodies

optional woohoo location:

woohoo in igloo

woohoo in sauna

date ideas:

~ go ice skating together, have some cup of cold choco, make snowmen and snow angels, take pictures!

~ have a sauna date!

~ watch a musical performance

~ Library date!

~ Spend sometime outside by the fire at night

recommended mods:

Knitting Mod

Savvier Seller Mod (for the bakery), or

SimState Business Mod, or;

The Merchant Mod by @anitmb

Baking Station (Store Content)

A useful thread on setting up a home bakery

notes:

i know that setting up a home business can be a bit complicated, so you can have 2 alternative options, 1) you can just purchase another community lot near your house and have the bakery there; or, 2) just drop the bakery all at once and you may find a different job for sim B.

ADD-ONS

Of course, this challenge wouldn't be as fun if you didn't share your gameplay and screenshots with the community! So, here are additional things that you can do for all rounds:

Take a screenshot of every activity that you did.

Pick your favorite memories and you may edit them as Polaroid pictures.

Make them do couple poses and take amazing photos of them together!

For each round/season that you finish, edit the photos that you had like a scrapbook, photo album or whatever creative idea you can think of.

Upload them and don't forget to put the hashtag #TS3SeasonsofLove and mention me so I can reblog it!

SLOWBURN ROMANCE EDITION

Now, if you’re like me who likes to take things slow, this rules are for you! You may or may not apply them, just an extra challenge for those who wants slower romance to this challenge. 

You must only force up to only 10 romance interactions, the rest will be up to the sims autonomy and wishes

You can not force them to kiss and woohoo, it will only depend on the sims wish and/or autonomy

You can only force atleast 3 dates, the rest will be up to the sims autonomy/wish

This challenge is made by ann-ndsims. Huge thank you as well to @frostedshore for giving me the idea for the Summer prompt and helping me come up with ideas for this challenge💕 If you like to modify it, convert it or have some suggestions and/or mod recommendations, feel free to send me a message! Don’t forget to mention me if you do this challenge and use the hashtag #TS3SeasonsofLove, I would love to see other simmers enjoy this little challenge that I made. Enjoy and happy simming!

[silverflameataraxia]

Jon has compared his love interest to Arya four times now.

Jon could see fear and fire in her eyes. Blood ran down her white throat from where the point of his dirk had pricked her. One thrust and it's done, he told himself. He was so close he could smell onion on her breath. She is no older than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. "Will you yield?" he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn't? Ygritte watched and said nothing. She was older than he'd thought at first, Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty, but short for her age, bandy-legged, with a round face, small hands, and a pug nose. Her shaggy mop of red hair stuck out in all directions. She looked plump as she crouched there, but most of that was layers of fur and wool and leather. Underneath all that she could be as skinny as Arya.

- Jon VI, ACoK

Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a "spearwife" when they'd captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs or skins she wore.

- Jon II, ASoS

"If you kill a man, and never mean t', he's just as dead," Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? He had never truly been a Stark, only Lord Eddard's motherless bastard, with no more place at Winterfell than Theon Greyjoy. And even that he'd lost. When a man of the Night's Watch said his words, he put aside his old family and joined a new one, but Jon Snow had lost those brothers too.

- Jon III, ASoS

And people say Jonrya has no merit 🤣

[vodika-vibes]

Every Time We Touch

Summary: Your relationship with Crosshair and Tech, before Order 66 and after.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Jedi F!Reader x TBB Tech

Word Count: 4987

Warnings: Smut. Oral (male and female receiving). Some Dom/Sub dymanics.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This has been a labor of love that took me, in total, almost 16 hours to write. The first part is smut, the second part was going to be smut but I decided it didn't make sense with everything that happened. It has not been edited aside from a very rough spellcheck. Happy reading~

It’s easy, losing yourself in the ebbs and flows of the force. Especially here, on a planet largely untouched by the war.

The Marauder landed here three days ago, with the plan being that you’d move on as soon as you got a new set of orders. Only, those orders still haven’t come.

And, as much as Hunter might hate it, you decided that you needed to get off the ship, even for a little while. It’s not as if they’re going to leave without you, after all.

So here you are, sitting next to a stunning little pond with a waterfall roaring in your ears, meditating. Or, well, you’re supposed to be meditating, but really, you’re considering whether or not you’d like to go swimming.

You absently tap your fingers against your knee, before coming to a decision. It’s not like anyone is going to bother you, not at this time of night. So you unfold from your sitting position and quickly tug your clothes off.

You set them neatly on a rock, with your lightsaber and comm perched on top of the clothes, and step into the cool water. You wade out until you’re waist deep and then you dive into the water.

This is exactly what you needed, the water feels amazing against your skin, and with the moon high in the sky, it almost feels like something from a fairy tale. You know, if fairy tales generally involved skinny dipping.

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a low chuckle from the shore, and you smile when you see a familiar figure standing next to the rock holding all of your clothes. 

Crosshair lightly plucks your panties from the pile on the rock and dangles them from one long finger, before his sharp gaze finds you in the water. “Funny,” He practically purrs, “I didn’t know that there were mermaids on this planet.”

You laugh softly and swim closer to shore, until you’re able to stand on your toes, “What brings you out here, Cross?”

He absently folds your clothes and stacks them a little neater than you did, “You, of course. You weren’t in bed.”

“I needed a moment off the ship. Hunter’s practically radiating anxiety.” You answer with a shrug.

“Well, I can just about guarantee that if he knew you were swimming, naked, in a lake he’d probably have a heart attack on the spot.”

“Um…well…he doesn’t need to know?” You offer sheepishly.

“Oh definitely.” Crosshair agrees, as he peels his shirt off and sets it on the rock next to yours, “Especially since I’m joining you.”

You laugh, “Are you?”

“What? You think you’re the only one who needs a break?” Crosshair finishes stripping off his blacks, and sets them on the rock. He pauses and then sighs and grabs his comm, shooting a quick message.

You tilt your head in question.

“You’ll get pouty if Tech doesn’t join us.” He explains as he steps into the water and walks out to you. The moment he’s close enough, he pulls you into his arms, and bumps his forehead against yours.

“I do not pout,” You reply as you slide your arms around his neck.

Crosshair urges you to hook your legs around his waist, which, really, you would do anyway. “You pout.” He teases, “It’s adorable.”

You press yourself against him, “Yeah…well…cite your sources.” 

“Do I look like Tech to you?” He asks with a grin, “I’m not citing anything. You’ll just have to take me at my word.”

You release a huff of laughter, and bump your nose against his, “Thank you for inviting Tech, Crosshair. It means a lot to me.”

Something soft slides across his face, and his hand comes up to brush against your cheek, “Well, you said so yourself, the only way this works for us is if we’re in it together.”

“I can’t believe you were listening to me when I said that.” You admit.

“I have a very vested interest in making sure that you stay happy, kitten.” He replies, “And if you’re happy with me and Tech, then who am I to argue.”

“And you, Cross? Are you happy?”

“Happier than I ever thought possible,” He confirms as he tilts his head to catch your lips with his own. 

You lean into the kiss, your hands trailing up to slide through his hair, a soft moan slips from your lips, swallowed by Crosshair, as he nips your lower lip and then trails his tongue across the sore spot to soothe away the pain. 

Heavy footsteps on the shore forces him to break the kiss, pulling a whine from you as you try to follow him. Crosshair chuckles and squeezes your hip, before he glances towards the shore, “D’you have to be so loud, Tech?” He asks.

Tech peers at the pair of you, “Yes. I did not want Crosshair to shoot me.”

“As if I would.” Crosshair mutters with a roll of his eyes.

You giggle and nuzzle your nose against his neck, “Will you be joining us, Tech?”

He glances at you, and then the water, and then back at you. “I have a better idea, you both should come to shore.” Tech quickly starts tugging his own blacks off, tossing them carelessly to the side.

Crosshair exhales sharply, and you giggle. “Let it be, Cross.”

“Annoying, everything else is folded-”

You giggle again and pull him into a deep kiss, your tongue sliding across his lips and then past his lips. You map out his mouth, as though it’s the first time, and he releases a quiet groan, his strong hand tightly gripping your ass to grind you against his half hard cock.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” He breathes against your lips. “Believe it or not, I didn’t actually come out here to fuck you.”

You grin against his lips, “Oh? What a pity. Maybe Tech will be interested-” You squeak as he pinches your ass.

“Well, my plans have clearly changed, imp.” He carries you towards the shore, and only sets you on your feet once the both of you are clear of the water. 

Tech’s eyes drag down your bare body, lingering on your breasts for a moment, before he steps into your space to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

Tech kisses you like he’s trying to learn everything about you. Like kissing you will answer any and all of the questions he has about you. 

Crosshair, on the other hand, kisses you like he’s trying to take everything that makes you you and replace it with himself.

You love both kisses, almost as much as you love both men. 

When Tech breaks the kiss, you’re a little breathless, “I’m guessing you have a plan?” You ask.

“I always do,” Tech replies with a small smile, he trails his finger down your cheek, and then across your lips, “You have such a clever mouth, cyare. I want your lips wrapped around my cock.”

Your face heats, and you press your hands against your cheeks, “You can’t just say it like that, Tech.”

Crosshair coos in your ear, “Embarrassed, kitten?” He turns his gaze to his brother, “I assume you have no issues with me fucking her while you’re fucking her face.”

“I am hardly going to be fucking her face,” Tech counters blandly, and then he pauses, “Well, I did not have the intention to.”

“Not an answer, vod.”

“Oh, yes. Do what you like.”

“Well, that was never in question.” Crosshair slides his hands down your sides, “On your knees, kitten.”

You shiver under his touch, especially when his hand slides from your side to dip between your thighs. His finger just barely brushing over your clit.

You release a breathy little moan and Crosshair chuckles and kisses your jaw, before pulling his hand away from you and licking his fingers clean.

“Actually, I had a better idea than her on her knees,” Tech says thoughtfully, and once he's sure he has all of the attention, he smiles. “You on your back, Crosshair, with our cyare riding you.”

Crosshair's fingers pause on your hip, and he glances at you, “You mean I get to feel her all around me and watch her tits?” He asks with a sly smile.

You release a strangled noise and thump your forehead to Tech’s shoulder, “Why?” You ask as your face burns.

Even after all this time, you still get flustered and embarrassed when your boys talk like that.

Which is exactly why they do it, and all of you know it.

“Because you are just too cute when you are ten kinds of flustered, cyare.” Tech kisses the top of your head, and then glances at his brother, “I would suggest spreading her robe across the ground.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Crosshair drops one last kiss to your shoulder, “That was the plan.” He walks over to the piles of clothes, kicks Tech’s stuff out of the way with an annoyed grumble, and then carefully pulls your robe from the bottom of your stack of clothes.

You watch as Crosshair spreads your robes out on the sand, and then lays down on his back. And then you’re distracted as Tech takes one of your hands and wraps it loosely around his half-hard cock.

“I know my brother is pretty, cyare,” Tech teases as he trails light kisses across your cheek, “But I would like your attention too.”

You give him a few light strokes, feeling him harden under your touch, and you’re not surprised when he shoots you a slightly frustrated look. “Cyar’ika, why are you being so gentle?”

A small, almost angelic, smile spreads across your lips, “I have no idea what you mean.”

He peers at you for a moment, and then releases a soft sigh, “You have decided to be a brat tonight then?”

“I have never done anything wrong in my life-”

His hand lands, firmly, on your ass and your sentence breaks off with a startled yelp. 

“If I did not already have plans, cyar’ika, I would make this punishment much more enjoyable.” You shiver at his tone of voice, and he presses a light kiss to your forehead, as he massages the sore spot on your ass, “Perhaps later tonight.”

You watch as his gaze flickers past you, and then he locks his gaze with yours again. His rough, calloused hands settle on your hips and he lifts you just enough that he’s able to move you to stand next to where Crosshair is laying.

“How would you like her positioned, vod?” Tech asks lightly, as though he’s commenting on the weather and not manhandling your naked body.

Crosshair’s gaze drags across your body for a moment, and then he smirks, “I was going to say that I want to stuff her full with my cock, but I changed my mind.”

“Oh?”

“I want her to sit on my face.”

“Oh, but-” Two pairs of eyes lock on your face, and you duck your head, “I don’t want to hurt you-”

Crosshair laughs, “I don’t know if you remember this, kitten. But I’m a decently strong guy. You can only hurt me if you try.” With Tech’s help, the two men lower you so that you’re hovering just over his face.

“Are you sure-” You yelp when Crosshair roughly pulls you down so that your pussy is settled over his mouth. His tongue immediately darts out to drag along your folds, and your yelp turns into a moan of pleasure.

“There we go,” Tech murmurs, “No need for such anxiety, cyare.” He moves so that he’s standing next to you and he rests his hand on your head, smoothing your hair for a moment, “Open up for me, darling.”

You part your lips for him, obediently, and he presses the head of his cock against your lips.

“You remember what to do if you need a break?” Tech asks, and his gaze softens when you tap his thigh twice in quick succession, “Good girl.”

And then he pushes the head of his cock past your lips, and lets you do whatever you want.

The dual sensations of Crosshair alternating between flicking your clit with his tongue, shoving his tongue as deep inside you as he can, and sucking on your clit, combined with the feel of Tech, heavy in your mouth, and the taste of his precum on your tongue, is almost too much.

Almost.

But you’ve been in a relationship with them for a while now, and you’re not a blushing virgin anymore. You’ve had a lot of practice using your mouth on both of them, and you have a few tricks to push them over the edge quickly.

For Tech, all you have to do is trail your fingers over his balls while hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard.

Which is exactly what you do, pulling a hoarse groan from his lips, “Kriff, should have tied you up.” He gasps as his hand fists in your hair, and he starts lightly directing you how to move by moving your head for you.

Crosshair closes his lips around your clit and sucks hard as he eases two of his fingers into you and curls them, pressing them right against that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

Your hips, which had been rocking against his face, using his mouth for your pleasure, stutter as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm. You just need a little bit more, but you aren’t able to vocalize it.

Luckily, Crosshair knows you as well as you know him, and one of his fingers slides across your folds, and then further back to circle the tight ring of muscles of your asshole. 

And you shatter with an almost broken moan, your vision dimming as you plummet over the edge. 

Tech pulls himself from your mouth and Crosshair quickly lifts you and moves you down his body, quite happily pulling you down on his solid cock until he’s completely bottomed out.

“There you go, kitten.” Crosshair mumbles as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, before he slides his hands to caress your breasts, “Move for me, sweetheart.”

“You need to open your mouth again, cyare.” Tech whispers, a proud smile crossing his face as you mindlessly obey him, “Good girl. Such a good girl.”

He’s just about to slide his cock past your lips again, and Crosshair is just about to start thrust up into you, when all three of you are distracted by heavy footsteps.

“Crosshair? Tech?” Hunter’s voice echoes from the forest, and then there’s an explosive sigh, “I’m not going to come any closer because I do not need to see what I can smell.” He sounds deeply grieved.

“Go away, Hunter.” Crosshair snaps as he pinches your nipples and pulls a soft moan from your lips. “We’re busy.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Hunter calls back, “We have new orders.”

There’s absolute silence for a moment.

“If I have to come over there and get you-” Hunter threatens.

“We will return to the ship shortly.” Tech calls, “We need…an hour?”

Crosshair searching your face for a moment, “Not even. 30 minutes, to give her time to recover.”

“An hour would be preferable.” Tech argues.

“Five hours would be preferable, but orders are orders.” Crosshair counters. He sits up and caresses your cheek, “I’m afraid we’re not going to get to play like we wanted to, kitten.”

“S’okay.” You whisper to him, though you are careful to make sure that Tech can hear you too.

Tech settles back, “We need thirty minutes, Hunter.” He calls.

“Fine, but if you’re not back in thirty-” He leaves the threat hanging, and then he stomps away.

“You first, Crosshair.” Tech says quietly, something quietly wistful on his face, “I will have my turn when you finish. We will just have to play properly later.”

You lean your forehead against Crosshair’s, your breathing heavy, as he thrusts up into you. 

“Deal.” Crosshair replies with a glance at his brother, before focusing his attention on you, a small smirk crossing his lips, “Ready kitten?”

“Always-” You gasp out in response.

The events of Beloved happen here

“I appreciate you doing this,” You say as you press the palm of your hand over your new, well, newish cybernetic eye. You’ve come to learn that entering and leaving the atmosphere makes the cybernetic feel very uncomfortable. 

“Ya don’t have ta thank me, kiddo.” The pilot, a Chiss man with bleached blonde hair, drawls as his hands fly over the console, “Yer…da and ya…Ah still owe ya more’n ya owe me.”

A small smile lifts your lips, “You owe me nothing, Cid.”

“Bah, in yer opinion.” He glances at you, “Yer eye botherin’ ya?”

“It’s not fond of pressure changes,” You admit, “I guess that removes deep sea diver from my list of future professions.” You cast your gaze out the front window, “So this is Pabu?”

“Yup, like a glimmerin’ gem.”

“Cid, I didn’t know you were a poet.”

He flashes you a roguish grin, “Ma lady loves it.”

Your smile widens slightly, though it fades when you turn your attention back to the planet.

6 months ago, the clones turned on you and your fellow Jedi. The majority of your brethren were wiped out before they even knew that they were in danger.

You had been in the temple, catching up on some school work that you missed out on due to the war.

It was a blessing, perhaps.

After all, if you had been on Kamino, you’d definitely be dead. Rather than just…

Your fingers glide down the smooth metal of your new prosthetic arm, a gift from Senator Riyo Chuchi, just like your new cybernetic eye. She even offered you shelter for the last six months, while you recovered from your injuries.

You’ll never be able to pay her back.

Still, she swears up and down that Pabu is a safe place, a good place for someone like you to vanish. And you need to vanish.

“A’right there, kiddo?”

“Yeah. Just…lost in thoughts.”

He reaches over and lightly grips your shoulder, though he doesn’t say anything as he focuses his attention on bringing the ship down to the landing pad.

He says nothing until the ship settles on the landing pad, and then he turns to look at you, his crimson eyes scanning your face. “Bein’ a Jedi taught ya how to survive. Taught ya how to adapt. Yer gonna be fine, kiddo. An’ if yer not…jus’ give ol Cid a holler.”

You stare at him for a moment, and then you smile at him, “Thank you, Cid. Really. It’s nice to know that the Jedi still have some friends in the galaxy.”

“More’n ya might believe.” He places both of his hands on your shoulders, and squeezes, “See ya around, kiddo.”

You nod once, and then slide out of the co-pilot’s seat to gather the one bag that you have from your life before, and you step off the ship and onto the landing pad to start your new life.

You move to the edge of the landing pad as Cid powers his ship back on and takes back to the sky, and then you turn to get your bearings. The island isn’t large, you can only imagine that everyone knows everyone.

Still, according to Riyo, this is a refugee planet, so maybe people don’t dig here.

You step off of the landing platform to follow the path towards the building that you can only guess is the welcoming center.

The woman at the desk, a Togruti woman, is very patient with you as she processes your citizenship. She doesn’t ask many questions, though she does eye your prosthetics and scars with a sympathetic smile.

“Welcome to Pabu,” She says quietly, “I hope you find peace here.” She presses a map into your hands, as well as written instructions to the nearest hotel.

Useful.

So you thank her, and then step out the main doors.

Pabu is a tropical island, which means hot. You’re immediately grateful that Cid suggested that you switch to a tank top and shorts rather than the longer clothes that you’ve taken to wearing since you lost your arm. 

It’s also humid. So humid. Humid enough that you’re sure that your hair is already getting frizzy.

You sigh and rub the back of your neck and pull your hair off your neck with a hair clip, and then you focus your attention on the written instructions in your hand.

“After leaving the welcoming center,” You mumble to yourself, “follow the sidewalk to the left until you reach the jewelry store, then turn right-” You look around and then you hoist your bag up on your shoulder and you start following the sidewalk.

“Jewelry store? Jewelry store…oh! Jewelry store.” The shop is, quite literally named, Jewelry Store. Handy. You glance at the note again, “Turn right, and follow the sidewalk until you reach the whale statue.”

You glance both ways, before you cross the street and you start walking.

You pause as a shop door flies open and a small girl with short blonde hair darts out into your path, running into your leg, “Ah! I’m sorry!” She blurts, as she looks up at you.

She has a very familiar face. A very, very familiar face.

“No harm done,” You reply, your voice slightly strangled.

The girl stares at you, and then beams, “Oh! You must be a new arrival! My name is Omega.”

Well, so much for your hope that she just looks like a clone.

You introduce yourself with a small smile, even as you carefully, very carefully, reach out through the force to try and determine if you’re in any danger. 

There are no warnings, and so you relax. Ever so slightly.

“Um…wait…” Omega reaches up and twists a strand of pale blonde hair between her fingers, and you jolt in surprise. It’s weird, seeing your habits on another person. You used to twist your padawan beads when you were trying to remember something, and when you were promoted, you took to rolling some of your hair between your fingers.

A habit that Hunter took up when you took command of Clone Force 99.

“I know your name…” the little girl murmurs. “Why do I know your name-?”

The door to the shop slides open again, “There you are, Omega. I was wondering where you ran off to.”

You turn your gaze to the veritable wall of muscle that just came out of the shop.

You’d recognize Wrecker anywhere. Even dressed down in civvies.

It’s funny, you thought you’d be nervous about running into any of your men. Especially after the temple. But you’re calm, peaceful even.

“There’s a new person, Wrecker. And her name sounds familiar-”

“Well, names are names Omega.” Wrecker replies, before he finally glances at you, “Welcome to Pab-” He stops mid-sentence. You see his gaze dart to your cybernetic eye, and then drop to the prosthetic arm, “...General?” Wrecker, who’s usually so loud and enthusiastic, sounds hushed and disbelieving. 

He sounds guilty.

And you can’t allow that.

So you flash the smallest smile, “Hey, Wreck.”

Wrecker drops his shopping bags into Omega’s arms, pulling a disgruntled noise from her lips, before he tugs you into a tight hug, “Thought you were dead.” He says against the top of your head, “Tech and Cross will be thrilled-”

You don’t move for a moment, and then you release a sigh and wrap your arms around him as well, “I got lucky,” You admit, not the least bit surprised when he doesn’t release you.

He finally pulls back, his hands warm on your shoulders, and his gaze darts across the scars covering your body. You can see the questions on his face, but he swallows them, with difficulty, and instead squeezes your shoulders, “You’re coming home with us.” Wrecker announces, “It's where you’re supposed to be.”

“If you insist.” And it’s as simple as that.

The house your boys share is located near the water. It’s a massive house, big enough that they all probably have their own rooms. That had to have come as a shock to them, seeing as they shared for most of their lives.

Wrecker leads you up the stairs, with Omega in the lead. The little girl isn’t sure what to make of you, not that you blame her. You have just as many questions about her as she probably has about you.

“So this is where we live.” Wrecker says as he leads you into the house, “It’s kinda big, but it’s nice too. We never had our own space before.”

There’s light footsteps coming from the kitchen area, “Who are you talking to, Wrecker?” Crosshair asks as he steps into the front hall, his gaze locked on his brother, before it drops to land on you.

Crosshair stops.

His sharp eyes lock on your arm, your eye, your scars.

And then he’s moving, shoving past Wrecker and stopping only a little bit in front of you. His hand, rough and calloused, gently grips your chin and he tilts your head back so he can see your eyes properly, “Oh, kitten.” He breathes out.

He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t have to.

“Hi Cross.” You whisper.

He releases your chin and his fingers move to your prosthetic arm, to the scars that mar your once barely scarred body.

There’s more footsteps, and then Tech is there. His gaze finds you immediately, and he quickly moves to stand next to Crosshair, his eyes cataloging the array of healed injuries covering your body.

It doesn’t take much longer for Hunter and Echo to join the crowd in the hallway, with Omega watching everyone with confusion on her face.

It’s a confusion you understand, though you’re sure that your confusion isn’t at all similar to hers.

Slowly you set your bag on the ground and you hold up a single hand, “Boys.” You don’t raise your voice. You don’t have to. All five of them immediately fall silent when you speak.

You don’t understand.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before you open them again, “I’ve had the…most awful of times.” You say, quietly. “I would, very much, like to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be executed in our own home.”

The faces around you change. Delight morphs into something stricken. “You…don’t know?” Hunter asks.

You glance at him, “Tell me.”

Hunter takes a deep breath, “Yes ma’am.”

One very, very long conversation later and you finally understand. The knowledge that the men hadn’t turned on the Jedi willingly, that they were forced to do it, eased a hurt that had been festering in your heart.

Though now your heart hurts for the men who are little more than slaves to the Empire.

But that was earlier. Now you’re sitting on Crosshair’s bed, your back pressed against the headboard while he makes room for your stuff in his closet. Tech is messing with something at Crosshair’s desk, and they’re both completely silent.

Crosshair, you know, will wait for you to say something. He’s incredibly patient like that.

You suspect that Tech is going to break first.

And you're right, as only moments after you have that thought, Tech pushes the chair back and moves to the bed to sit next to you. There’s probably a million questions running through his mind, but you can wait for him to settle on one.

But he surprises you. 

He doesn’t ask anything, instead his hand moves to a large scar on your shoulder. There’s something pained and guilty on his face. 

You reach out and press your hand against his cheek, “It’s not your fault.” You whisper, “Either of you.”

Crosshair drops a jacket to the ground and joins you on the bed, his strong arms slide around your waist and he drops a feather light kiss to your throat, “We should have been there.”

“We thought you were dead.” Tech adds, sounding so deeply pained that your heart lurches.

“I’m sorry,” You comb your fingers through Tech’s hair, and he sighs as he presses his forehead against your other shoulder. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Crosshair says roughly, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You shift and lay your cheek against the top of his head, and his arms tighten around you. 

“It’s funny,” Crosshair murmurs against your skin, “I genuinely thought that the only thing I would want when I had you back in my arms is to make you fall apart for me. But now that you’re here, all I want is to hold you.”

You laugh softly, “I love you too, Cross.” You say as you press a light kiss to the top of his head.

Tech presses himself firmly against your other side, “When things get back to normal,” He murmurs, “I would like to give you a full examination, so that I can see how your prosthetics and cybernetics work. So I can keep you healthy.”

“Of course.”

“No one is ever going to hurt you again, cyare.” Tech promises.

“That’s not your job, Tech. But thank you all the same.” You whisper as you press a kiss to the top of his head as well.

And then you squeak as you’re tugged down the bed so your head is resting on one of Crosshair’s pillows. His face is pressed against your neck, and his legs are tangled with yours. Tech rests his head on your shoulder, his fingers threading with yours. 

For the first time in months, you feel safe.

And slowly you drift off to sleep. Sure that this was part of their plan.

Your boys always did know you better than anyone.

[legendofmorons]

Twilight x reader

Fluff maybe angst (this week really tired me out)

Can you do a fic where the reader and twilight (and maybe others your pick) go drinking and drunken shenanigans ensue.

Thanks :)

Hammered, sloshed if you will

Pairing: Twilight x reader

Rating: T

Summary: You and Twilight go out and get drunk, get into a huge fight over literally nothing, and end up comforting each other the day after.

Warnings: alcohol, drunk behavior, Reader thinks Twilight cheats (He Does NOT. He would NEVER.)

Other: reader is assumed to be of legal drinking age.

-------

You can't remember who's idea it was, but now you're out at a tavern. The Hyrule you're in is somewhere in the early two thousands if all the leopard print, ultra low-rise jeans, and skinny scarfs are any indication.

Twilight is punching the air to a pit bull song as he happily drinks his long Island iced tea.

You've got whatever drink you like.

You and Twilight are both about five drinks in, and two rounds of shots have already passed.

"You should let me teach you lime dancin', honey." Twilight says with a grin.

"You should learn more modern line dancing." You counter, taking a sip of your own drink.

"What does that mean?" Twilight asks, eyes narrowing.

"You could learn some dances too? I could teach you!" You smile, unaware in the shift of mood.

"You think I can't learn?" Twilight is apparently too drunk to hear what you said.

You don't think that at all!

"Of course you can learn. I can teach you!" You're still smiling. You'd love to teach him!

"I can totally learn!" Twilight shouts, "I'll go dance right now!"

"Okay?" You manage, confused and a little annoyed.

Twilight downs the rest of his drink and goes to join the crowd that's line dancing.

You have to give it to him, he picks it up quickly. Though there's a smiling woman who's maybe a little too friendly. She's helping him too.

Does he think she's better than you?

He does.

You turn back to your drink, deciding it's better not to watch.

But then you've gone through another drink and can't find Twilight anywhere.

He's probably off kissing that stupid woman.

Obviously you should drink some more. That'll make you feel better.

When the bartender cuts you off, you decide it's probably time to go home. Even if Twilight is kissing someone else you want him to not get lost.

So, you go and track him down.

Twilight is still talking to the woman from earlier. Something about horse care? He probably heard you coming over and changed topics.

(He did not. This woman is a Lesbian and just bad at proper social interactions. Also Twilight would never cheat on anyone.)

"We're leaving. Whenever you're done." You say with a sigh, annoyed at the whole thing.

"You never believe in my dancing!" Twilight says as he whirls around.

"What are you talking about? I love when you dance!"

"You fo not!"

"I totally do!"

"You don't believe in anything!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Just leave without me."

"No. You're stupid and wrong, and you're irritating, but I'm not leaving you somewhere you can't get home from."

"Just go away!"

"Link." You say evenly, trying really hard to remember you're probably super drunk and shouldn't run your mouth more than you have.

"I don't care. Just let me be."

"I will, as soon as we're at the hotel."

Twilight looks like he might keep arguing. But he seems to think better of it. "Whatever. Just leave me alone when we're there."

The taxi ride back to the hotel is stifling. You're annoyed as all hell, and Twilight won't stop glaring out the window. You'd swear he has upset upsetness rolling off him in waves.

After paying the driver and giving a tip, ypu amd Twilight March through the hotel halls.

You got to your room, and straight to the shower. You think you deserve one.

Unfortunately after your shower you find a pouting Twilight.

"Time said I gotta sleep here." Twilight says woth a frown.

"Whatever." You shrug him off, pulling on pajamas.

"Whatever?"

"I just want to sleep." You say as you flop onto bed.

"Then we understand eachother."

"Link, shut the fuck up. I just wanna sleep." You groan. You hadn't meant to sound so rude, but it still happened. You'll apologize later.

-------

Morning comes with chirping birds and blinding sun. Your head pounds in time to what can only be an eclectic drumset played by a monkey.

Great.

You need to figure out how much you drank last night. You want to male sure you don't do it again.

You throw your arm out and accidentally smack Twilight's nose.

"Ow." Twilight groans, "What'd I do?"

"Nothing. Sorry." You squint as you roll over to look at him.

Twilight looks about as bad as you feel. He must have also had too much.

"What happened last night?"

"Dunno. I think we got in a fight or something."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I dunno, just am. Words are hard.... but I wanna say sorry for my part."

"Aw, Link, it's okay." You smile as you set your head on his chest.

Twilight throws one arm across his eyes. His other arm loops around your shoulders. "Let's go back to sleep."

"Okay."

Twilight's breathing is still slow and steady. But he isn't asleep quite yet.

"I'm sorry too." You admit, "I think I was mean last night."

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you, (Y/n). Just- don't let me drink that much ever again."

"I won't."

[blackloveangel13]

So, this is my first ever fanfiction. And English is not my first language, so I’m very sorry for any mistakes. But I still hope you like it.

It takes place after they graduated Hogwarts, no real mentioning of the war.

Warning; Teasing gone too far, fluff

Lemon Drops

Sirius x Reader!sister Remus

You looked at the colourful displays in the candy shop. Your bag already full with some of it. You just needed some chocolate bars for Remus, it was his birthday today. You knew he was just as bad about candys as you were.

When you heard a mellow clearing of throat right behind you. As you turned around you came face to face with Sirius Black.

“Black? What are you doing here?” Of course, you had to run into him. You never got along good, never liked the pranks he and James pulled in School. Now after Hogwarts you all joined the Order of Pheonix, and still, you couldn’t help but keep a distant between you and him.

Sirius grinned. “Well, would you look at this, meeting Remus little sister in a candy shop who would have thought that.” The sarcasm was literally dripping from his voice.

“Very funny. I’m buying some sweets as Remus birthday presents.”

“Let me guess you going to stock up his chocolate. Maybe I can help you with that, I mean we are already buying for the same person.”

“Why would you help me? Is this some kind of joke?” you looked at him with scepticism.

Sirius smirked, flashing you a mischievous grin. “Oh, come on, I haven´t messed with you in years. Give me a chance.”

“I don’t know. I know you since my first year in Hogwarts, you were never one to behave.”

You watched Sirius frowned slightly at your words.

His smirk disappeared.

“Look I know I used to .. act out back in school. But that was a long time ago, and I’ve changed. We both are a member of the Order now, that has to help convince you that I´ve matured!”

“It doesn´t convince me one bit. I know you and James for far too long for that.” I chuckled drily.

“Come on.” His voice was pleading. “For today, as a present for Remus birthday!”

“For Remus! I still believe its impossible for a marauder to not do something for a whole day” You laugh, this time genuinely.

Sirius couldn´t help laughing as well.

“Cut me some slack, at least give me a chance to prove it.”

“Ok, pinkie promise then!” you extend you hand pinkie, “Nothing stupid for today!”

Sirius smiled, locking his pinkie around yours tightly, as a promise to you.

Holding tighter on his finger. “If you break your promise, you have to go skinny dipping in the lake behind our house tonight.”

His smirk dropped in an instant.

“Fine, but if I go a whole day trough its you turn for the lake.”

Letting go of his finger you couldn’t help but smile. It seemed for the first time you and him got along.

“Now lets go get that chocolate for Remus. But I warn you don’t get mad at me when I happen to poke fun at your taste of sweets along the way.”

Offended you nudged his shoulder with yours.

“My taste in sweets is perfectly normal, thank you very much.”

He took a bag of lemon drops out of your basket. “Oh really? I mean lemon drops? How old are you granny?”

Taking the bag out of his hand you pout a bit.

“If you don’t look out this granny might just going to hex you!” You glare at him as if to dare him.

“So is that whole basket for your brother? You really spoil him.”

You gasped. “No way he is getting any of those sweets, those are for me and I will make sure to hide them well. I learned that the hard way, when Remus wants something sweet nothing is safe from him.”

Sirius laughed, “Remus the sugar thief, sounds about right. But now I know how to get a reaction out of you.”

“Thin ice Black, and you promised nothing stupid today. Trying to steal my candy is pretty stupid!”

He laughed loudly. “Oh trust me, that would be my last try. I know what happened the last time I took some of Moonys sweets. I’m happy I’m still alive.”

“True. You might end up a strand of your pretty hair.” I laugh with him.

Truth be told it was the nicest conversation you ever had with Sirius. And you wondered, maybe he did grow up after all. Maybe he wasn’t the same as he was in Hogwarts.

“No not the hair!” he joined the fun.

“No girl would ever look at you again.” You grabbed a chocolate bar from the shelve before you.

“That’s a good one. I still have my undeniable Charme. Admit if I really wanted to I could even Charme you!” the grinned cocky at you.

“Oh please.” You snort at him.

You hesitated a second to look at him. He couldn´t know that he hit right where it hurt.

The crush you had on him for quite some time was stupid after all. You would never work out. He would play with you for some time and find someone else.

Sirius noticed your reaction. His smirk widens, his eyes twinkling with mischievous.

“Oh, am I touching a sore spot perhaps? Is there a slight chance of the ice queen could be charmed after all?”

“Leave it alone!” you warned him with a slight waver in your voice.

But he didn’t. He just had to tease you a little more knowing he got under your skin.

“Is someone a bit embarrassed about their secret feelings?”

That was enough. Your eyes started to water with tears. He was still the worst, why did you even think he could be serious for once.

“You’re the worst Black.” With that you turned around and ran out of the store. Leaving him and you basket of sweets behind.

Sirius was surprised by your reaction. He didn’t think he had pushed you that far. A part of him was tempted to call after you, but he had a feeling he´d just make things worse by doing so.

Looking at your basket of sweets he got an idea thought.

You went straight back home. You were mad at Sirius, but mostly at yourself.

The truth was he was right, you were embarrassed about your crush. It was just so typical. The little sister falling for the troublemaker friend of her older brother.

The worst thought, tonight Remus was throwing a party for his birthday. There was no way Sirius would miss it. So, your plan was simple. Go down for bit and as soon as Sirius would show up you would lock yourself upstairs in your bedroom and hide. That would be for the best.

As the party started you joined in for a bit. And you were more than relieved when you didn’t see Sirius anywhere. Just as you were about to head into the kitchen for a drink, you walked right into the one person you hoped you could avoid.

Sirius walked out of the kitchen and you both stood there frozen. He had thought about how you would react to him after what happened earlier. But now with you standing before him he was at lost of words to say.

He couldn’t help but stare at you, not sure what to say. But he was willing to take the risk.

“Come!” he took your hand and pulled you upstairs and into your bedroom for a quiet conversation.

“I just wanted to talk to you…” he started.

“To make even more fun about me? No thanks.” You didn’t look at him.

Sirius felt the icy temperature in the room.

“No. I don’t want to make fun of you. In fact, I want to apologize to you. I know it might´ve upset you…”

“You hurt me! And I don’t think an apology will fix this.”

Sirius felt his world turn upside down. Did he really hurt you this much. His heart dropped at your words.

“I never intended to hurt you. I just meant to tease you a little. I feel horrible about what I said, and if I could I would take it back. I really messed up, didn´t I?” He looked at you sincere.

“I was having fun talking to you, and I wasn’t thinking straight. But it was wrong from me to take it that far. And I am really sorry for that.”

“Just leave it. I always knew I would get hurt because of those stupid feelings for you!” You just wanted him to go away. You could feel yourself tearing up again.

“If I had known I would never have messed with you like that. Today when we meet, I was actually happy, cause I really like you too.”

You didn’t let him finish, “Please, don’t mess with me. Don’t you think you already did enough damage today?”

Sirius saw the distrust in your eyes, and he was getting frustrated.

He had to find a way to get you to trust him and prove to you that he meant every word. Then it hit him.

“Your right! After all I broke my promise. So, it is time to pay my depts!” With that he left you back in your room.

You wanted to lock the door after him and just stay in your room. But you wanted to know what his plan was to convince you. So, you followed him out of the house and to the lake right next to it.

He started to take off his coat and shoes.

“If you don’t believe my words maybe you believe my acts of despair!”

Remus and James had seen you both run out of the house and decided to follow you.

“What the hell is going on?” Remus asked to Sirius who kept undressing himself.

Now shirtless he told your brother. “I’m proofing to your sister that I’m serious. And that I’m sorry for so many things I did wrong!”

Remus looked at you a silent question to explain this madness to him.

But you couldn’t speak. Was he really doing that just to proof something to you?

With a playful grin Sirius turned around and then dived straight into the lake.

You gasped loudly, that absolute madman. That idiotic man, and you couldn’t help but smile lightly. That men you fell for hopelessly.

Sirius hoped you where still there when he came back to the surface. His pants no soaked and clinging to him uncomfortable. He looked at over to you to see your reaction.

And that little smile on your lips made him forget the cold water.

“Come out you proved whatever point there was!” James called out to his best friend.

“Only if Y/N tells me she believes me. Until then I stay inside here even if that means catching hypothermia! So, what do you say grandma?” he couldn’t help but tease you even now.

“You stupid men! Come out right now!” you shout at him. Couldn’t stop a warm feeling from creeping up inside you. He really proved himself to you.

“You promise not to change you mind and push me back?”

“I promise only to do that if you do something really stupid again!” you laughed.

You picked up his coat and when he came out of the water you gently laid it over his shoulders to shield him a bit from the cold.

“You are really something else.” Then you pulled him towards you and closed the gap to kiss him.

Sirius felt like he was floating. He pulled you closer to him and deepen the kiss. Getting your wet from his clothes too.

“Now I think you should both get inside and into dry clothes. And maybe than you could explain what just happened to us!” James laughed and interrupted your kiss.

You smiled at Sirius. You already knew you got yourself in a messy relationship no matter what happened. But you also knew now, you never had to question him. Because that action right now proofed, he would always hold his promises.

“Let’s get inside.” You took his hand and pulled him with you to the house.

“I think I can make you smile even more! I bought the candys you left behind. And don’t you worry not even a single lemon drop is missing!”