#like what someone is wearing and how a surprise isn't surprising hard enough

[kameonerd566]

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[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[miyukisu]

NSFW Alphabet | Sae Itoshi .ᐟ

❤︎ | Get to know Sae Itoshi from A to Z~ ╰ feat. sae itoshi x afab! reader

minors do not interact

[A] Aftercare Decent. Bare minimum. Not over the top. At the very least he would wipe you down and clean you up without expecting you to move an inch. He'll even guide you to the bathroom if you plan to shower together (there are times when he carries you, but that's reserved for days when he REALLY goes all out on you). You have to specifically request for things if you want him to do it. Otherwise, that's all you're getting.

[B] Body Part Sae's canonically into ass. But it's important to note that he cares more about shape rather than size. He'll subtly ogle at your ass even in broad daylight, especially if you're wearing tight clothes that showcase it. On himself, however, he's aware of how nice his thighs look. Sometimes he'll pass by a full-length body mirror in just his boxers and he'll stand there for a minute to admire his legs. Partially, this is why he enjoys working out his legs.

[C] Cum Cums a lot, but not thick. It's more on the translucent side. He maintains a healthy diet so you can expect the taste to be bearable. Of course, he likes to release on your ass, but sometimes it gets on to your back as well. It's a sight he never gets tired of.

[D] Dirty Secret Even with his partner, he would hate to admit that he likes taking nude pictures of himself. It's not like he's going to send them out or that he gets off to it; he's no narcissist. But there's just something inexplicable about doing it. He'll snap a few, look at them, then delete them. He isn't sure why. But if you're into receiving nudes, he'll gladly comply (that is, if you've been together long enough).

[E] Experience Despite his good looks, it's surprising to know that he hasn't done it with a lot of people. He only does it with someone he's in a relationship with and even that rarely happens. He's a busy person and it takes longer for him to develop trust for anyone compared to the normal person. But you could say that he's a natural. He can make you cum at least a couple of times through instinct alone.

[F] Favorite Position He has a hard time picking between plain ol' doggy and reverse cowgirl. See any similarities? Yeah, both positions just give him a nice view of your behind. It allows him to grope, squeeze, and slap it any time he wants. He particularly likes watching it jiggle at every hard thrust that he does. Although, he might prefer doggy a little more as he can have most of the control in that position. But it's trivial to pick. He'll just have you in both positions each time you decide to do it anyway.

[G] Goofy The man doesn't smile, let alone laugh, during sex. It's not that he's not enjoying it, but he doesn't find the act to be humorous at all. He finds it weird to call it "fun". He'd rather describe it as passionate and intense which is why he's serious. However, there are VERY rare moments when he cracks a small smile, but it only happens in highly emotional moments (like your first time having sex as a married couple, for example).

[H] Hair He trims it, but not for sexual purposes. He's an extremely hygienic man, so he does it out of self-care. In reality, he doesn't care too much about what their partner thinks of his hair. If they like it; then great. If they don't; they can deal with it. Besides, he doesn't care about his partner's hair. He'll take whatever's waiting for him down there. He'll never go fully bald because he finds it odd. He'll trim it a bit regularly and that's about it.

[I] Intimacy A very passionate lover; that's for sure. As I've mentioned, he finds the act to be something serious. He'll only do it with you out of love and care. So even if he doesn't outwardly seem like a romantic person in bed, he definitely is. He likes to keep it fair in the bedroom. So if he's enjoying, you should be enjoying it just as much as he is. Although, he doesn't speak much, but he'll call you "Amor" sometimes. Sae will whisper that name in your ear gently.

[J] Jack Off As you might expect, he doesn't do it a lot. For one, he's too busy doing or thinking about something else. It's something that he can only think about doing when he's lying in bed at night with a blank mind. Sae mostly does it out of frustration—if he wants to release pent up emotions without lashing out on someone else. He's quick and likes to get the job done as fast as he can. Can you blame him? It relaxes him after all. Though, he isn't immune to temptation either. If you send him jack off material, he'll gladly use it.

[K] Kink Sae discovered it a bit late, but he likes brat taming. He doesn't even know that it's a thing. He just knows that he likes putting disobedient girls in their places. He'll act annoyed or pissed off at your insolence, but deep down, he's craving that you do it more. Something about feeling that his authority is being challenged, excites him. Of course, it adds some spice to your bedroom activities. But maybe it has to do with him proving to you over and over again that he's the one in control—he's the one holding the reigns. He especially loves it when you eventually become obedient in the end. But keep being a tease; he eats it up.

[L] Location Anywhere as long as it's inside the house/apartment/hotel. He likes the privacy and comfort that those places offer. He can't be bothered to think about the possibility of getting caught. As thrilling as it might be, he has a reputation to uphold. The impending PR work is not worth the orgasm, at least for him. He also would hate to do it in a place that would force you into a weird position. At least at home there's a bed, a couch, a chair, or a counter for you to use. Again, he's a hygienic guy, so the dirty outdoors is a huge no for him.

[M] Motivation First of all, he has to be either extremely relaxed or incredibly frustrated—there is no in between. But once either condition is met, it's not that hard to get him in the mood. In fact, he likes to hear how eager you are. Simply asking him if he wants to do it would be more than enough. Even better if you express how much you've been needing him throughout the day or week. There are times when he initiates things, but that usually happens when you're already touching each other (like while cuddling). You'll know because he'll grind his hard on against you or deliberately take your hand and place it there.

[N] No Anything extreme is off the table for him. In many ways, he's quite vanilla. The farthest he'll go would be a little bit of bondage and usage of toys. But if there's extreme pain, blood, piss, and things beyond that involved—consider him out.

[O] Oral Again, he likes to keep things pretty equal, so likes both giving and receiving. Although, you might notice that he'll go at your pussy first before letting you suck him off. It gets him into the momentum apparently. Plus, most of the time, he already gets you to cum from his tongue alone. You swear that he gets better each time he does it. You can never last long since he likes to suck on the clit, oop. When you suck him off, he'll tangle his fingers in your hair and guide you lightly. He lets you do your thing, pretty much. The only exception is when he's really stressed out—expect him to tug at your hair a little harder then.

[P] Pace He usually likes it slow and sensual. Sex is the only time he feels relaxed and in control of his time. Why would he want to rush it? The atmosphere also feels different for him when he goes slow. Furthermore, Sae uses this as a way to observe you properly—which spots to hit, which points to stimulate at the same time, and so on. It gets him off knowing that he can get better and better at providing pleasure. Consider it as part of his ego as well. He might take it slow, but there are definitely moments when he pounds you hard and steady. The type of pounding that needs you to hold on for dear life or else you'll fall.

[Q] Quickie Not really a fan of it. But it's not like he would never do it. Sae will only resort to quickies when absolutely necessary. Those kinds of situations are mostly when both of your schedules are packed and there is literally not enough time to have proper sex. That or when both of you feel incredibly frustrated and nothing else will satiate you but each other. Another reason why he doesn't do this as much is that it leaves him wanting more. He hates feeling like a needy idiot, so he avoids quickies as much as he can.

[R] Risk He'll try anything not-so-extreme at least once, especially if you ask him nicely. Though he has shown interest in experimenting in bondage a bit, more specifically, in shibari. It's a bit intricate and it might hurt you a bit if not done right, but if you're willing to share that risk with him—he's game. From the Sae perspective, I'd say a risky thing that he does is whispering things in your ear he wouldn't normally say. He just likes to keep you on your toes and the way you clench down on him is just way too good. Besides, you'll most likely forget he said it anyway because he fucks you dumb most of the time.

[S] Stamina His endurance and stamina in general are certainly well-trained, but he is just a man. His dick needs to recuperate at its own pace. Maybe he can last two rounds for the most part, but there are days when he can only last for one. But it's not much of an issue. In that one round, he can last for so long. He can take advantage of that time and make you cum over and over again. Besides, even if you've milked him for the time being, he can still go at it with his mouth and fingers. You'll never catch him breathless after a few measly minutes.

[T] Toys He doesn't own any. He feels silly spending money on such things and using it on himself. But if it's for you; he'll gladly spend as much as he needs. He just doesn't see the appeal of using it on himself. Pocket pussies? Cock rings? Seems a bit ridiculous to him. But if you happen to own a vibe or two, he'll definitely use it. There's no harm in heightening your pleasure anyway. He's also chill with a bit of bondage rope and handcuffs. He's a bit iffy about using dildos though. Maybe it's because of his pride, but what's the use of it when you can have his dick instead?

[U] Unfair He's a tease without even trying. The snarky remarks that he makes comes out of his mouth naturally. "Oh, you're cumming again? You're too easy," and he'll say it with a straight face. Sometimes when you do ask him to fuck you faster, he'll ignore you on purpose. The man wants to hear you beg so nicely for him after being such a brat earlier. Although, he's surprisingly less of a tease as you'd expect.

[V] Volume Mostly grunts and groans. He claims that you will never hear him whimper, so of course, you make it your life's purpose to get him to whimper. It has yet to happen. And he does find it amusing that you think that you can make THE Sae Itoshi whimper like a bitch. Aside from that, the sounds he makes aren't so loud. He makes sure the grunts near your ear, containing it there. BUT, a little quirk of his is that he lets out a long sigh once he cums. It just feels so relieving that he can't help it anymore.

[W] Wild Card He thinks he'd bust right away sometimes whenever you stare up at him while you suck him off. Seeing you servicing him so eagerly while on your knees does things to his brain. It makes his ego swell like insane. "You're such a good girl, amor. You love me alot, don't you?" He'll wipe away the tears that threaten to fall because your jaw's so stretched out. Sae knows you're struggling a bit, but hang on for now and he'll reward you plenty afterwards.

[X] X-ray Not that girthy, but loooooong. He has quite a pretty dick, especially since he keeps it neat down there as well. It doesn't curve that much, but it is quite veiny. You can see the veins because of his pale complexion. There's one particularly thick vein that feels the best when rubbing against your walls. He's also cut, so you know that he has a light pink tip. Definitely a shower.

[Y] Yearning He's definitely more inclined to have sex than jacking off. That's because he'll actually make time for it. Sae will find ways to clear up his schedule or at least have more time with you—to have sex and to do things other than sex, of course. It's an odd, but helpful, trait of his that he can easily match the libido of his partner. Unless if his partner has an insanely high libido, then you'd probably have to find even ground. But again, it's not hard to get him into the mood. So if you initiate or ask him, more often than not—he'll get down and dirty with you in a heartbeat.

[Z] Zzz He doesn't fall asleep right away because, A) he needs to clean up and take care of you, and B) he just isn't tired enough. Don't get him wrong—good pussy pushes him to the edge, but being well-trained just helps him to not pass out immediately after busting. However, he will fall asleep right away once you're all cleaned up and the bed (which presumably got drenched) is all tidied up. Once you're sleeping soundly in his arms, he'll let himself be consumed by slumber as well.

❤︎ Overall: Sae's quite a good lover in that he puts effort and meaning into sex and that he's constantly improving. He genuinely cares about making it an activity both of you enjoy. 10/10 experience.

©kzyluvr do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note Actually a bit terrified that I might have butchered Sae Itoshi in this one

[ink-n-shadow]

don't mind me, just writing more pet play!141...😇

𝜗𝜚 pairing: pricegaz x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), pet play (are we surprised atp), owner!price, puppy!gaz and reader, brat taming?, bondage, punishment, oral (price!receiving), gaz being an angel

ik i talk a lot about pet play!ghoap x reader and how puppy!soap is a brat and reader is the angel, but what if i talked about pet play!pricegaz x reader, where puppy!gaz is an absolute angel and reader is a brat?

like puppy!kyle is the most obedient boy. he treats every word that owner!price says like it's the word of God itself, never giving any backtalk or second guessing his orders. price wants his cock down someone's throat for an hour? kyle is sitting pretty under his desk just waiting for him. his owner needs somewhere to tap off the ash of his cigars? kyle's more than willing to offer up the skin of his back.

you, on the other hand, are all snarling teeth and whines. following orders isn't easy for you, but that's okay—owner!price knows you just need a firm hand to make you all warm and fuzzy and pliable in his palms.

so it only makes sense that you’re often folded over in the king sized bed you three share, hands cuffed behind your back and resting on your lower back with your ass stuck up in the air. a pair of your underwear is stuffed between your slick lips, forced so deep that the lace tickles the back of your throat, and you’re whining pitifully at the fact that you’re unable to spit it out.

john is sitting off to the side of the bed in one of the plush leather recliners in your bedroom, legs spread to accommodate the way kyle is nestled prettily between his thighs. it's hard to make out all of the details in your tear-slicked vision, the only thing consistent being the bright orange glow of john's cigar each time he takes a puff. the only sounds you can hear over your own sniveling is the gargling of kyle throating his owner's cock and the jingling of the collar he wears (the one that matches the one currently tethered to your throat).

"what's wrong, pup?" john murmurs to you pitifully, head tilting and eyes softening in faux sympathy as he carelessly ashes off the end of his cigar somewhere over kyle’s knelt body. “y’want something? use yer words, then. loud and clear, pet.”

but you know that john knows you can’t, know that he knows he pushed your underwear deep enough in your maw that you can’t even form a syllable around the satin. it makes you whimper petulantly at his condescending words, the handcuffs jingling behind your back in an effort to squirm enough so that you can see kyle’s lips stretched around the thick head of john’s cock.

“no—stay in yer fuckin’ place,” john is quick to scold you into submission, the quirk in his brow more than enough to halt your movements and make you sink back into your folded position once more. “y’wanted to act like a brat, so ‘m treatin’ you like one.”

john’s scolding is interrupted by a ragged gag ripping through kyle’s throat when his owner’s cock slips to far, making him sputter up for a breath with drool and pre-cum slicking down his chin. the sight is enough to make john coo warmly, petting at kyle’s hair with a gentle touch.

“should’ve been a good pup like kyle is—yeah, good boy,” john’s words spill out into a rumbling moan as kyle sinks his mouth back down around his cock, taking him down until the head of his cock is brushing at the back of kyle’s throat. “good pets get rewarded, isn’t that right, pretty boy? tell ‘em what bein’ good’ll get ‘em.”

but with john’s heavy hand on the back of kyle’s neck, all kyle can offer you is a choked moan amidst the slick squelches of his throat being fucked.

[flippinpancakes64]

the cullens with a reader who isn't the best at showing emotions so their way of showing love is by biting? Like not hard but gently.

BTW I love your writing, keep up the good work 💞

The Cullens with a reader who bites

Thank you for the kind words! And I definitely relate to this prompt. But with my cat. Like cuteness aggression is real and I’m a victim. Petting her isn’t enough I need to eat her yk

Anyways thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He understands a little bit

He can hear the thoughts in your head, he sees how much they overwhelm you

It happened the first time when he was over at your house for a movie date

He was wearing casual clothes, a hoodie and some sweatpants

He wanted to make sure you had something soft to lay your head on

But something happened when you saw him in the hoodie

Your mind lit up, fireworks going off, sprinkled with phrases of how “cute” he looked and how you wanted to crawl into his skin

He called you over to him and let you squeeze him as hard as you wanted, but it still wasn’t enough

He could hear the frustration in your mind about how you were still unsatisfied

He was about to suggest climbing into his hoodie with him when he felt you bite down on his bicep

He was shocked to say the least

But you know what, at least it helped

He tries to limit how much you can bite him in public, but when it’s just the two of you, he lets you do what you want

He’s an enabler, what can I say

Alice:

She didn’t even see it coming the first time

Which is rare for her

You were sitting on her bed with your eyes closed since Alice had a gift she wanted to give to you

You opened your eyes and saw a bracelet made of brown, gold and *insert your eye color here* beads

On her wrist was a matching one

You sprang up and tackled her in a hug immediately

You both would have fallen if she didn’t have inhuman strength

But hugging her wasn’t enough

So you bit her

She felt a pressure on her right shoulder, just above where her shirt ended, right on her skin

She didn’t know what it was until she felt the heat and faint wetness

She thought it was tears to be honest

So she was definitely shocked when she pulls you back and sees your mouth wide open and your eyes perfectly dry

“… did you just bite me?”

“…no…”

“You’re so silly”

She lets you bite her as much as you want

It’s not like it affects her

Just so long as you don’t get drool on her clothes

Jasper:

He can also feel how strong your emotions are

He’s never felt someone who feels things so strongly

Honestly, he’s surprised you can even live a normal life

One day you’re just sitting on the couch, playing on your phone while a movie plays on the tv

Suddenly, your phone starts to jostle a little bit

You look and see Jasper putting a charging cable into your phone

“What’s that for?”

“Your battery was getting pretty low, figured you could use some charge”

And like nothing even happened, he goes back to playing mobile games on his phone

You become so overcome with emotion, so much love just fills your body

He can feel your emotions start to fry, threatening to overflow

He’s about to send some calmness your way when he feels you chomp down onto his forearm

He’s so shocked he doesn’t even move

You quickly unlatch, moving away and apologizing, but he just smiles

“It’s alright, darling. I’d rather have your teeth marks here than the ones I’ve got now”

So charming

Rosalie:

The day of Prom is here

You didn’t want to go, but you would never deny Rosalie a chance to dress up

So that’s how you found yourself here, fully dressed and waiting on Rosalie to finish getting her hair and makeup done

You hear her heels click towards the closed door and turn your eyes as it creaks open

There stands Rosalie, beautiful golden hair pulled into an intricate updo, her makeup perfectly accentuating her natural beauty, and a dark red dress that sweeps the floor

You just couldn’t contain yourself

You latch onto her, biting into her exposed shoulder

She yelps out of shock, definitely not expecting that

You try to walk away and pretend it didn’t happen, but she’s not one for that

She has similar rules to Alice, only no biting her in public

She loves that you love her so much that you can’t contain it

That’s what she’s always wanted after all

Overall, though, she doesn’t mind

Just seriously, don’t mess with the clothes

Emmett:

He was literally just sitting there

Like not doing anything, sitting on the couch, watching a movie that you had put on

You had gotten up to get some more popcorn and had to just pause to take him in

He looked so cute bundled up in the couch, your favorite blanket thrown around him from earlier

You set the popcorn down on the table and leaped at him

He didn’t even get a chance to react

Suddenly you were on top of him, your arms wrapped in a vice grip around his throat, your legs fully koala-ed around his middle

You were kissing every single surface on his face, whispering how cute he looked and how much you love him in between

He was giggling like a little girl, his face would be beet red if he could still blush

When suddenly he feels your teeth on his shoulder

“Pump the brakes there, piranha, what’s that for?”

“Sorry Em, I just love you so much I can’t control myself”

“Damn, do I at least taste good?”

He thinks it’s hilarious

He calls you his little snapping turtle

Esme:

She’s confused

She just asked what you wanted for dinner and now your teeth are in her arm

She doesn’t even shake you off she just kind of stands there

Like uhm are you okay?

You’re gonna need to explain to her why you did that

And afterwards she just laughs

She doesn’t fully understand, but that’s okay cause she also just doesn’t care

If it makes you happy then it makes her happy

She’ll let you bite her but with limitations

No biting in public

No biting her hair (not that you would anyway)

No biting her so hard that you hurt yourself

And she’ll eventually tell you to ease up after a while

“Darling? You’ve been there for a couple minutes now, you want to stop for a second please?”

Overall she’s confused but tries not to intervene

If this is what you need to do to express your love then go for it

Carlisle:

He’s only ever been bitten once

And that wasn’t a very pleasant experience to say the least

So it’s the last thing he expects you to do

But let’s be honest, how could you resist?

He had rolled up the sleeves to his sleek button up, flipping through pages of his old medical books, looking for a specific article he wanted to show you

By now you’ve completely forgotten what you even asked him about

You just leaned in slowly and bit into his forearm, your teeth sinking in slightly to the strong muscles there

“… are you hungry?”

Genuinely confused

You can try to explain as much as you want, he’s still going to research it later

He doesn’t have very many rules as far as this goes

If you wanna bite him, then go for it

He thinks it’s a nice, fun thing

And it shows how much you love him

Everyone enjoys a nice ego stroke now and then

Vampire! Bella:

She’s definitely felt cuteness aggression before

But never with another person

She was just sitting there helping you do your homework and you just.. bit her

“Did you just bite me?”

“…. No….”

“You’re a liar”

She doesn’t actually mind

She’s just so confused

She still envisions herself as that plain-looking clumsy girl

Like wdym SHES the one making you feral?

But she is flattered

Absolutely does NOT let you pull that shit in public tho

She’s still too shy for that

You’re gonna need to put a pin in it till you guys get home

But once you’re there… she still has limits

She’s not a big pda person

Or a big physical touch person

She’s like a cat

She’s okay with it for a little bit but too much and she needs you to stop

Think like one or two bites a day

Any more than that and she gets squirmy

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

[twilightkitkat]

Thinking about how Logan is more open about his emotions than Wade despite what people perceive, and how Wade slowly learns to open up and confront his own emotions because of Logan.

Prompted by this amazing thread. Shoutout to @ramblingautisticman and @desperatelyneedcoffee for inspiring me to write this.

---

Most people expect Logan to be the more closed-off one. To hide his emotions behind a mask and keep them to himself.

But that's Wade's role.

Logan is honest about his emotions—when he's angry, he'll growl and thrash and let people know. When he's happy, he'll bark out a laugh and grin and let his eyes wrinkle at the edges. When he's sad, he'll cry and scream and drown himself in alcohol.

He may not be phased by smaller things, but he's honest about his feelings. (Something Wade could never do.)

Wade, on the other hand, isn't. He exaggerates trivial feelings, obvious situational ones—he'll cower in fear at a "scary enemy or pretend to be pissed over a minor inconvenience. He makes his outward, shallow emotions so loud that it turns everyone's attention away from what he's feeling inside.

(Because if people know how he feels inside, they'll see him and hate him. It's easier to be hated when you can chalk it up to "understandable" reasons, to being annoying or loud or inappropriate. It isn't easy when they hate you. When they look at you, bare and vulnerable and open, and hate who you are at your core.)

Wade has spent his entire life hiding his emotions. Even from himself.

He shoves them so deep down that they become a slightly bitter taste in the back of his throat until it all becomes too much and he violently throws them up.

Wade is like a glass bottle: he can steadily hold all his emotions inside, pretending to be OK, until the glass shatters and explodes and the shards dig everywhere and he's left to pick up the pieces.

But Logan isn't like that. He lets himself feel. He lets others see how he feels.

Even from the first moment they met, he let Wade know how he felt. How he fucked everything up. How he wasn't the hero he was looking for. How he was battling with so much grief and rage that he'd reached a point of complete apathy.

(It made Wade envious. To be able to just say it and move on.)

Logan was the first person Wade met to be so blatantly honest. To wear his emotions on his sleeve and act on them and still be strong and keep fighting.

(...Could he still be considered strong, if he did the same?)

When Wade was vulnerable, it felt like he was choking—the words tumbling out without his permission and leaving a mess behind. Even with the people he loved, he couldn't ever bring himself to fully trust them even if he knew he should. Even if he wanted to. (Even if he tried to.)

(He still remembers sitting across the kitchen table from Vanessa. She held his hand tightly, as if she was afraid he would slip away. Was slipping away. She was urging him to let her in. To tell her why he hadn't been himself. To open up so they could share the burden.

But he just... couldn't. How do you tell someone who loves you, who you turned back time to save that nothing was helping? That no matter how hard he tried to focus on Vanessa and just live a "normal" life that it all felt wrong? That he felt an itch under his skin to do more more more and nothing was "more" enough.

That he felt like he was just wearing his skin. Like it wasn't his, not since Francis twisted him into a monster he didn't want to become. That he still remembered her look of surprise and the reluctant way she cradled his face when she first saw it.

It wasn't her fault. He knew that. It was an adjustment.

...But why didn't anyone understand? The gnawing loneliness, the self-hatred, the feeling of everything being nothing and too much all at once.

He hated himself.)

But Logan let his emotions course through his veins like second nature. Wade watched as emotions twisted across his face like it was a form of art.

And, for the first time, he felt comfortable opening up. He let the words spill from his mouth, except instead of feeling the trail of acid burning through his throat it felt like relief. He finally met someone who understood him, who had gone through the same suffering. He saw his loneliness reflected in Logan's eyes and finally, finally, felt he could reach out without dragging someone down. (They were both already at rock bottom, anyway. The only place to go from here was up.)

And so he told Logan about Vanessa. About the family he wanted to save. About how, yes, he vaguely cared about the world, but none of this was to save the world. (It was for just nine people.)

And Logan... didn't judge him. He saw understanding—a tired, but real kind—reflected in his eyes. He didn't make fun of him for his selfish motivations. Didn't snarl in disgust that he could never be a hero because of them. (He saw him and didn't recoil.)

And there, sitting across the table from each other in that shitty building they'd escaped to, Wade finally felt seen. Understood. (Ironic, isn't it? To have to go to the void to open up about the void inside of himself. Wade would write a poem about it if he knew how to.)

He felt that same kinship as they continued their journey. Even through the insults, the exasperation, the annoyance, Wade could tell none of it was serious. Because Logan never really told him to fuck off. To stop.

If Logan didn't like him being touchy, he'd shove him off. (He didn't.) If Logan didn't like him asking questions and rambling about himself, he'd actually try to get him to shut up instead of just grumbling. (He didn't.) If Logan really didn't want to be here, he'd leave. (He didn't.)

Logan's visceral type of emotional honesty allowed Wade to let himself be vulnerable. Because if Logan hated him, he wouldn't be here. If Logan didn't want to hear it, he wouldn't tilt his head and listen and ask questions.

(It made Wade feel safe to express himself for the first time since he'd been strapped to that shitty operation table and torn apart until all that remained was a body not quite his own.)

Things were going good.

They were.

(Wade desperately hoped they'd stay that way.)

But then Logan pulled over the car, real and raw fury in his eyes. He yelled at Wade, his voice trembling with the intensity of it.

He picked apart everything Wade had told him. Threw it back in his face.

And oh. Oh.

Logan was honest. He was true to himself and his emotions.

And so, Wade thought quietly as the tired continued, he really meant it. It felt worse than when Logan had stabbed him.

(It felt like he was back on that operating table, small and weak and pathetic but still trying to keep smiling. To keep cracking jokes and being annoyed. Because, if he didn't, he'd break. If he didn't keep the shards of his personality clutched so tightly to his chest that they dug into his hands, nothing would be left of him.)

Logan dissected him. Using everything Wade told him. (Using the ammunition he'd provided.)

(Was Logan really looking at him with understanding, back then? Or was it disgust? The images blurred together in Wade's mind, distorting his memory.)

Told him how he was worthless. That the Avengers and X-men were right to reject him. (Ouch.) That it was his fault he couldn't salvage his relationship with Vanessa. (He'd tried. He'd tried so hard.)

That Logan saw him for what he was: a pathetic, attention-seeking parasite who clung to others instead of facing his own problems.

It really was God's greatest joke that he couldn't die.

Wade spiraled.

(Was he wrong this whole time? Did Logan really, truly hate him? He had to, if he's looking at Wade like that.)

If even Logan (the only person who could begin to understand his suffering) couldn't accept him, who could?

He felt like the ground was crumbling underneath him and he was falling and floating at the same time. He felt like he was an observer, looking in on the outside, even as his emotions crashed over him like a tsunami.

But he couldn't let himself break down. Wouldn't let himself be vulnerable. Not here. Not now.

So, he slid the mask back on and responded in the only way he knew how to.

"I'm going to fight you now."

(Even when they'd collapsed, bloody and weak and exhausted, the words kept ringing in his head. They'd let out their physical frustrations, maybe, but the words still clung to him like a blanket. There was still a sinking feeling in his gut. Dread twisting his stomach at the thought of being open.)

(The feeling never really went away.)

---

They started living together, in the aftermath.

Wade had called after Logan as he was about to leave and awkwardly asked him if he'd like to come home with him. Just long enough to find a place to stay, or even just for dinner.

(Logan couldn't refuse. Not with the sense of wrongness filling him as the distance between him and Wade grew with each step. When he heard Wade's voice, it felt like hope. It felt like coming home.)

One night turned into two, turned into a week, turned into a month until Logan had his own side of the dresser and nobody bothered to ask if he was leaving. (Thinking of leaving made Logan vaguely nauseous, now. It felt like ripping away the foundation of the home he'd painstakingly started to build here.)

Logan still had baggage. Still had days where all he wanted to do was grab a beer and stare blankly at the wall, thinking of all he'd done and all he'd lost.

But it was easier. Wade would walk into the living room, plop down next to him, and begin talking his ear off about whatever happened that day. He'd sling an arm around his shoulder, flip on the TV, and keep talking.

(Logan would lean against him, slightly. Would focus on Wade until his warmth and touch and voice drowned out his thoughts.)

(It worked better than alcohol ever had.)

Logan tried to let Wade know that he cared about him. That he appreciated it. Appreciated him.

(That Wade's presence was what made everything worth it. Made him finally feel like he was able to tread water without drowning.)

He'd cook Wade meals. (And pay attention to what he liked and disliked, making sure to cook things he knew Wade would comfortably eat.) He'd lean into his touch. Listen when he talked. Answer any questions he asked.

And so, when Logan came out from the shower one night and saw Wade curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the black screen of the TV, he approached him.

Wade had a vacant, empty look in his eyes. The kind that Logan recognized, but hadn't seen on him before.

It made him worried. He'd never seen Wade like this. (It was unsettling. To see Wade, who was so vibrant and expressive, look so bleak.)

"Is something bothering you, bub?" he asked, settling down next to Wade on the couch.

Wade finally seemed to register his presence, eyes flicking over to where he sat.

"Oh, peanut! I was wondering when you'd get out of the shower. Was it nice and steamy? I'd love to join you next time," Wade wriggled his eyebrows (or what was left of them) suggestively.

It was like a switch had flipped. Wade went from blank, like a doll with its strings cut, to animated and excited in a second. His eyes were sparkling again and he grinned at Logan like nothing was wrong.

(It was... uncomfortable. Did Wade not trust him? Was Wade hiding something from him?)

Logan wanted to question him, but Wade kept chattering and he could never really get a word in edgewise. (A part of him wondered if it was intentional.)

Maybe he was seeing things. Maybe Wade was just having a bad day. Logan tried to rationalize it, even as a pit formed in his stomach. A feeling of deep wrongness.

Except it kept happening.

Wade would get that same, desolate look in his eyes (always when he was alone, away from everyone) and Logan would walk in on him. Logan would try to see if something was wrong, but Wade would interject before he could.

(Logan knew his expression was concerned. Knew Wade could tell he was worried, that he cared about him. So why didn't Wade let him in?)

(Wade always listened, patiently, when Logan talked about his problems. It was one of the few times he'd go quiet, only occasionally asking questions and making extra commentary. He'd look at him with a grim understanding. Not pity, not sympathy, but empathy. Free of judgment. It was the first time Logan felt like his emotions were actually being received by someone, cradled and held and protected so that they didn't burn him out.)

Until, finally, one day, Logan snapped.

"What the fuck is up with you?" he snarled, and that didn't come out the way he intended but he was so frustrated by Wade refusing to just let him in.

"What do you mean, Wolvie? I'm—"

"Shut up. You're not fine. I've been alive for two hundred fucking years, I know by now when someone's lying, Wade," Logan interrupted before he could continue his usual antics.

"Look, I'm just having a bad day, alright? You know how it is. I'll be up and running after I take a nap, don't worry about little old me!" Wade's voice took on a faux-cheerful tone.

"This isn't just a bad day, bub. It's been happening a lot. You get this look in your eye, like you're not really there, and just stare at the wall." Logan stared at Wade with concern evident on his face. "It's worrying."

Wade snorts. "You don't have to worry about me of all people."

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean? 'You of all people?' Of course, I'd be worried about you, dumbass. I care about you and if you're hurting, I want to know why."

And Logan was so painfully honest. It was so clear in his eyes, in his expression, in his body language that he cared about Wade. Deeply.

It made Wade snap.

"Just shut up! Stop fucking talking. I don't want to hear it." Wade wished he had hair right now so he could fucking tear it out. He'd take any kind of physical pain just to distract himself from Logan, worried and open and trying to pry him open.

"Wade, what are you—you know you can tell him about anything, right?" Logan tried to regulate his breathing, to keep his tone calm. To not show the panic he was feeling. (It was obvious anyway.)

"What, so you can throw that back at me, too?"

What? What was Wade—

"So you can tell me I'm a fucking joke? That every superhero team was right to turn me down? That I couldn't even manage to keep a relationship with a stripper?"

Oh. Oh fuck. That was—

"That I should just fucking kill myself, but of course, it's God's best joke that I can't die, so now my pathetic existence is on you?"

He couldn't possibly think Logan meant that, right? Couldn't have been thinking about that this whole time—

"I don't want to burden your royal highness with my stupid problems," Wade practically snarled, "so stay the fuck out of it."

He slammed the door and left.

And Logan was left alone.

Logan wanted to run after him, to grab him and tell him that he didn't mean it. He was pissed off and spewing whatever came to his mind in the moment to hurt Wade. (And he'd achieved that goal, hadn't he?) He felt betrayed and responded in the only way he knew—by lashing out. (But that wasn't an excuse, not really. Not to take everything Wade had trusted him with and twist it. To betray his trust in such a personal, visceral way.)

(Logan knew that Wade meant well. That he was just scrambling to save his world and thought of the only solution that would get Logan to help. That when he made an "educated wish" he'd still try to see it out, had still asked the TVA after everything. But he was so fucking angry and so fucking tired and just wanted any excuse to lay down and die.)

Did Logan really have the right to, though?

Wade had listened to him. Helped him. Even after what Logan had said and done, he'd still cared. (And wasn't that a sobering thought. That this whole time, Wade thought that was Logan's opinion of him. That he still cared about Logan despite having his voice ringing in his ears, tormenting him.)

(It made Logan angry to think that Wade was used to it. To setting aside how people treated him and not expecting anything in return for his kindness. To loving and giving without receiving. It made him want to murder the people who set the bar so low. It made him want to rip out his own tongue.)

(It made him realize, yet again, that Wade was a better man than he'd ever be.)

...And Logan had fucked up. Immensely.

Had given Wade hope that he could finally open up to someone who came from a similar background and understood his suffering. All to tear it away in one glorious, horrible, mistake.

Logan had no right to fix things. To ask for forgiveness. (From Wade. From anyone.)

But what was the alternative? Letting Wade think he hated him? Leaving?

Logan would rather die than go back to living completely isolated from the world. He couldn't go back to waking up every day and drowning his sorrows with alcohol. Letting memories flash behind his eyes as he replayed everything he fucked up and obsessed over what he could've done differently.

(Because, without Wade, he would still be there. At rock bottom. Without a place to belong or any reason to get up in the morning. A samurai without a master. A drifter without purpose. A stray without a home.)

The thought of leaving behind the only thing he cared about anymore made him panic. He felt nauseous, like he wanted to throw up yesterday's dinner and his own heart alongside it.

He knew it was selfish and pathetic, but he couldn't let go. Couldn't handle losing the only thing that made living worth it, after everything.

(Of course, when he finally found someone who was like him, who felt the same loneliness, who couldn't die, he had to go and fuck up. What is Logan good for if not ruining anything good in his life?)

Logan knew he was selfish. And pathetic. And stupid.

(He felt his mouth move around the words. Spit venom at Wade, who was completely, utterly silent. He heard them, vaguely, but they didn't register. He was running on pure rage and adrenaline.)

(Why did he take until now to notice?)

He knew that.

But he didn't think it was this bad. That he'd end up ruining the only good thing to come out of his miserable existence.

He thought, at least, that even if he'd fucked up everything else, he could be good with Wade. Could be good for Wade. It was the one thing he prided himself on.

And now look at him.

Instead of Wade, it's Logan who was God's best joke.

Fuck, he wanted a beer.

[secretkinkz]

He tried so hard to let you be in control for once. He has to admit, you were sexy. Your small frame attempting to show dominance. He let you cuff him to the bed, leaving his robe wide open for you.

Sylus couldn't help but chuckle lowly, seeing you come from the bathroom wearing a costume. "So you're a wolf, and I'm…" He chuckled, looking down. "I'm a bunny. Hm, such a small wolf, I'm thrilled to see how you plan to feast on me."

His eyes roamed your body. The thong and tail you wore, really drove him mad. He licked his lips as if you were the prey. His breathing became unsteady as Y/n crawled onto the bed, her breast on full display as she placed the head decor on him. "Don't laugh, Sylus. That's not fair, I don't feel in control." You pouted, crossing your arms as you stood up.

"I'm sorry, dear. I'm just a brat. You know, like you. You're in my shoes now."

She dragged the whip towards him, slightly slapping his erect penis.

Keeping eye contact with him the entire time as she teased the tip with a feather.

"Lower your eyes," Y/n whispered.

Sylus kept his gaze firm. To his surprise, she slapped his thigh, and his gaze was immediately redirected to the red mark on his pale thigh.

He was impressed that she could hurt him.

Sylus's skin tightened feeling your hands barely wrap around his large length. A low guttural moan escaped his throat as he rested his head on the headboard. Y/n stroked him fast, he knew what was coming. Just before he could cum, she stopped. Even though Sylus predicted it, he was still annoyed.

"Stay.." She said shakily, noticing his gaze grow harsher.

Sylus watched as Y/n sat on the chair seated in front of the bed, her fingers rubbing her clitoris slowly. This is what did it for him. He leaned forward, getting a better look. Her soft moans were a melody for him, the sound of her wet pussy swallowing her fingers… It was enough to make him cum. "Sylus." She moaned, completely oblivious to the fact that Sylus had turned the cuffs into dust. Her eyes flew open feeling his tongue on her folds. "Sylus!" She moaned, in confusion. "You've done enough torturing, it's my turn little wolf."

He lifted her, tossing her onto the bed and towering her.

"That isn't fair, Sylus!"

"I'll make it up to you."

His tongue dragged from her lips, breast, stomach, pussy and finally at the thighs. He nibbled on the piece of meat, moving closer but not close enough to her throbbing cunt.

"Such soft purrs you release.." He whispers, flicking his tongue over the lips.

"S-Sylus." She moaned.

He moved his tongue past her lips, using his fingers to spread her wider.

"What do you want, princess?" He asks, slipping his long and slender fingers inside of her hole. "Y-You Sy-Sylus."

"What about me do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me, with your…"

"My what, dear. Do not be shy. You aren't afraid to cream all over it, so say it."

He lifts her hips, nearly burying his entire face in her pussy as he speeds up.

"O-Oh fuck, Sylus. D-don't. I don't want to cum yet, I want your dick. Put it in."

Her toes curled, fighting the urge to release.

"Mhm, good girl kitten." He chuckled, releasing her.

Sylus's phone began ringing, he stood up and grabbed it, making his way back toward the starving sheep in wolf clothing.

"Mister Sylus.."

She watched as Sylus pushed the tip inside, a smirk plastered on his face as he spoke on the phone.

"Don't." She begged, feeling him push the tip in and out repeatedly.

Sylus chuckled

"Boss?"

Sylus hummed. "Go on, I'm listening."

He withdrew, waiting for her to show a sign of relief before slamming into her.

She moaned loudly, before shooting a hand over her mouth.

"Are you okay boss? Are you perhaps interrogating someone?"

Sylus laughed hard, speeding up.

"Of course, I am. Do you wish to hear? They're taking it well, barely making a sound."

Your eyes rolled back as you bit your lip. "I'll leave you be boss."

Sylus hung up and tossed the phone aside, leaning down and kissing her. "Should I-" He tugs at the vibrator in her ass. "Take this out?"

"Yes, please! Please."

He enjoyed hearing the soft moans escaping whenever he tugged at it.

"You'll just have to earn it, kitten."

She whined, reaching between her legs. Sylus grabbed both hands and tied them to the railing.

"Sylus, I'll do whatever you. Please take it out."

"You'll do whatever either way dear."

He grabbed the whip she'd used on him earlier. "Endure and I'll take it out."

He strikes her breast until both are warm and sensitive, her moans and cries making it hard for him to continue holding back.

Sylus removed the plug and placed her leg on his shoulder, drawing his hips back and snapping them forward.

"Sylus! W-Wait!" She cried out, gritting her teeth from his brutal thrusts.

"Ah, good. You're even better in this position, I can see all there is down here." He hiked her leg back further, getting deeper inside.

Her pussy clamped down on his cock, signaling that she was near. Sylus pressed on her stomach. "I'm right here, Y/n. You feel it." He gripped her face, biting her lip and grinding his cock deeper before continuing his rough thrusts.

"When you cry, it only makes me want to go harder."

Y/n's eyes rolled back as her body convulsed. "N-Not inside." Her eyes fluttered open as he pulled out, releasing all over her stomach and breast.

Sylus bent over, taking her lips. "I'll be the bunny next time, kitten."

~~~~~~ A/N: I'll be prey. Always. Anyways, y'all can't even tell I hate using the dick word. P.S> If you see the word STYLUS. Just ignore it.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Working at Bakugou's Agency Headcanons - Part 1

| Part 2 | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Tags: None (Originally this was a one-off, but I found a good stopping point part-way through so I'm ending it here and posting the rest later)

You're his secretary. He's your boss at his self-established Pro Hero Agency. But you're right around the same age.

It's a little strange, really. You knew what you were getting into when you applied during the hiring process but it's still shocking to see someone your own age so much more accomplished in you. Makes you wonder what you're doing with your life when someone else is already so far ahead.

However, Bakugou (or Dynamight) sees potential in you and takes you as his personal secretary. Everyone else was fired because he wasn't too fond of any of them, so there was an opening. Despite him taking you on, you're really nervous about your job prospects given the graveyard of secretaries he's built up. But the pay is too good and you need the money.

Everyday at work, he's expecting your best. He's constantly barking out orders to any and all of his workers, and you wonder if this violates some "harassment of employees" policy that you're sure nobody really cares about at this point. At least he's not barking at you in particular. He's even slowed down to explain some things to you, which you really appreciated.

But your co-workers often talk about him when he's not around. They grumble about his aggressive attitude and protest against his constant criticisms. But they're here for the same reason as you (the pay rate), and on the bright side at least they know that Dynamight isn't corrupt or evil boss. Just a handful.

Your best efforts eventually become known at your organization and Bakugou gives you some rare praise. No gruffness, no insults, just genuinely saying "This is really well-done."

You almost couldn't believe it when you heard it. You laughed when he said it and then immediately regretted laughing when his eyes shot to yours.

"Sorry, I've just never heard you compliment an employee's work!"

He looked offended and he was about to say something but then he held back.

"Guess I shouldn't forget to do that."

Was he actually taking your criticism to heart? Who knows.

But Dynamight truly is one of the more perplexing bosses you've likely had to work for. You don't really have drinking parties outside of work with your boss or your colleagues, unlike other Japanese companies and organizations. Some other typical company traditions are eschewed, which you may or may not appreciate. Dynamight isn't really the type of person who would like any of those things. He's too straight-edge, too much of a workaholic. He doesn't see the point. But this makes it hard for anyone to get close to him.

Still, there is one day where you invite him out after work for coffee or tea, whichever you prefer. There's no ulterior motives, no wish for a pay raise, you're just honestly interested in his life.

The worse he can do is say no. Actually, he can do much worse than that, but you try it out anyways. To your surprise, he agrees immediately! It's a little funny how quick he was.

He's got the best taste in dineries, since he has high standards and all. He takes you to a really fancy restaurant and you're gobsmacked at the prices. You don't have that kind of money, but he brushes off your concerns. He's got money to burn.

You learn more about him. He's still pretty informal as ever, despite the suit and tie he's wearing per the restaurant's formal dress expectations. He doesn't really mince words with you or talk politely, inside or outside of work. But he's quite expressive and more willing to share about himself than you would've ever believed.

He's telling you about his high school years and how it led up to this point. You're familiar with the story since you've seen him at the Sports Festival and you just kept hearing about him and the other U.A. students from there. He states your Quirk is good enough to be a Pro and outright tells you he'd personally train you if you wanted.

You've got your hands full with your current life as is so you can't take the offer, but you're pleased he even suggested it!

"Maybe if I train, I'll even surpass you someday!"

"Don't get cocky!"

It's really easy to joke around with him and get into a nice flowing casual conversation. You've never seen him act like this. Even with other Pro Heroes it usually took a lot of time for their friendship to remotely get to that point.

In fact, you point that out to him, as well as his aloof reputation with the public. Normally you shouldn't tell your boss those kinds of things, but Bakugou isn't your normal boss.

Bakugou sneers at your playful observation and says if he doesn't need to open up then he doesn't do it at all. He says you're looking too much into things.

But he's smiling at the end, and he bites back at you with his own observation, saying that you've got a lot of time on your hands if you're keeping a close eye on him.

You say he's got some food stuck in his teeth and successfully distract him from the subject.

Okay, maybe you DO like him. Maybe you do fancy one of the highest ranking Pro Heroes in the country who acts just like a good friend with you when he's not in the office. It's not your fault. He's just so kind to you.

But he's your boss, and you know he's dedicated to his work above all else...

Still, you find him the next day at work greeting you first thing in the morning, remarking about your evening together. He's recalling it with a rare soft smile on his face.

You're glad it's a happy memory for him.

[awriternamedart]

"How do you do it, gambler?"

Aventurine glanced up from the drink in his hand, an identical one clutched tightly in Dr. Ratio's.

"Do what?"

"Maintain a relationship."

Aventurine blinked, before his head shot up again to look at the doctor. Veritas didn't even spare him a glance, eyes glued to the scene in front of them— a grand IPC ball, held for investors and connections to be made. It was always a busy and grand event, one the Intellegensia Guild had to attend to maintain the IPC's investment.

It really wasn't Dr. Ratio's scene, but he had been chosen as their representative anyway.

"I'm not particularly adept at that, my dear doctor." Aventurine chuckled, watching the alcohol swirl in his glass.

"You are far more able then I am. Even upon falsities and fake promises, you managed to chat and converse with people in a sort of ease," Ratio slowly tore his eyes away from the crowd, glancing back to Aventurine before his eyes dropped to the floor in front of him. "..Its admirable."

Aventurine could just barely process what Dr. Ratio was exactly saying— direct praise?? From the good doctor himself???— before Veritas set down his now-empty drink on a bypassing waiters tray.

"Do you ever feel.. second-rate?"

Aventurine paused, taking another languid drink as he contemplated. It wasn't often the dear doctor opened up— he should tread carefully.

"I can't say for sure. Why?" He kept his tone even, trying not to distract from Veritas' thoughts. It was hard enough to get to know him in the first place, to squander his trust like this would be a waste.

The Doctor took a deep breath, practically hiding himself in the shadows of one of the many grand pillars decorating the room.

"I am not adept at conversation."

Aventurine could agree with that. Something about the doctor made it difficult to respond in kind— he was dry, a vague bit brutish, and if Aventurine dared, a little bullheaded. He seemed so sure of himself, founded confidence that was backed up by his many achievements. It was a little intimidating for the average person, he supposed. But as he looked on, that sort of Dr. Ratio seemed to fade ever so slightly, leaving behind someone who was still sure in his knowledge and discoveries— but struggled nonetheless.

"I find people.. grating, sometimes. But connection is one of the few necessities of livelihood, and so I try to converse with my peers as often as possible. It is.. difficult. It often feels as if they have no interest in what I am saying, neither asking questions nor inquiring further, and when I try to do so to show interest in their research, they often retreat back, saying it is not finished or the such. Offering to help only ever seems to drive them further away." Taking out the laurel clip in his hair, Veritas' thumb drifted over the gilded leaves, the polish in the finish reflecting his face back at him. "Despite my best efforts, I rarely ever follow up because I fear I intimidate them. I have seen them recoil at the mere sight of me."

Aventurine could just watch on in surprise— Veritas had never shown an inkling of this before. When he had first gotten to know the doctor, he had assumed Veritas simply didn't work with his peers due to a difference in dedication, or perhaps view. He was among the brightest and best in the Intellegensia Guild, always praised behind his back for being one of their stars.

Perhaps that wasn't the front Veritas had put up at all. Perhaps it was what Veritas was forced to wear in the face of his peers, forced to be seen as the cold unobtainable, the pinnacle of what they should be.

Being on a pedestal like that, it must be lonely.

"Do you not go drinking with your coworkers or something?" Aventurine leaned against the wall, cold of the stone seeping through his suit. Veritas glanced up at him, before looking back down.

"..I was never invited. It is against social convention to come along if you aren't invited, isn't it? I'd rather not strain and worry them more. It could impact them negatively if I were to come along and invite stress to what is supposed to be a time they unwind." He turned the laurel over in his hand. "..perhaps I missed my opportunity."

The light of the pedestal Dr. Ratio sat on seemed to blind all those who looked at it from underneath. They couldn't see his face, only his back— but as Aventurine leaned against the wall, gazing at the doctor in front of him, he got that different perspective.

There was.. resignation, in his eyes.

"Perhaps I am just doomed to be a looming figure above many. And yet, I'll still never be enough." His voice tapered off slightly, head dropping even just that hint bit more. "I am fully aware how much others are compared to me, and I hear them speak of my achievements behind my back. I wish they would stop, if I am being honest. Or at least tell me of my praise directly."

That surprised Aventurine.

"What, do people not give you a compliment or two? For someone so easy on the eyes and as esteemed as you, doctor, I find that hard to believe!" He chuckled— but it quickly faded out as Veritas looked to the side.

"Not often do I get comments directly on my achievements, no. Nor on my appearance, before you came along." He sighed. "You are.. the only person who does so."

The only one who's tried.

-

The Only One Whos Tried - awriternamedart

[httpiastri]

first of all CONGRATS ON 3K!! 💗😫 I've loved your Pepe work and I'm so checking out your other works 😭💗

saw the 3k celly and I couldn't resist myself 👉👈

how do we feel about a small Pepe blurb with the touch starved prompt: "one just casually sitting down on the other's lap and they start internally freaking the hell out" ??

furthermore,, could it be the reader being the one that is touch starved and Pepe just casually grabs em and sits them on his lap and is the reader the one freaking out?? 🤭

🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: thank you so much!! and im glad you like them aaa 🥺 i loved this idea !!!! but lol i thought a blurb was 500 words, not 100-200. still doesnt explain why this is 1.2k. 😶 i had time over on my flight so this (and the paul "blurb" ive got scheduled for later) was the result. hope u enjoy :)

3k celly !!

(college!)pepe marti x reader

there are a lot of fun ways to spend a free saturday evening.

but being squeezed into a room with a bunch of drunk students, with music so loud you can barely think? not one of them.

you had been about to refuse your friend's suggestion to tag along, as you always do, before she had uttered the magic words. pepe will be there.

you were already planning outfits in your mind when the words left her mouth, suddenly feeling like no piece of clothing you own is enough to impress him. how could any piece of clothing ever be good enough for someone like him?

disappointment, though no surprise, fills you when your friend leaves you the second you enter the apartment of some guy in her physics class, to search for that other guy she's been crushing on for weeks now. so, here you are, in the living room belonging to some student you don't know, being pushed around by students you also don't know, with some song that you've never heard blasting from the speakers.

thankfully, even in a crowded apartment like this one, it isn't hard to find pepe. the sound of his sweet, intoxicating laughter can be heard from miles away.

he's sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, red solo cup in one hand and phone in the other. he's showing something on his phone to his best friend christian who's sitting next to him, his giggles sending a wave of relief through your body.

pepe's eyes light up when they meet yours, a sliver of surprise in his smile as you make your way over to him. he says your name like it's what he was made to do, like no other words have ever fallen from his lips. "i almost didn't believe your friend when she told me you'd join her tonight," he tells you. "i'm surprised."

"i'm full of surprises," you answer, tilting your head to the side slightly.

"of course you are. like that dress, very surprising." that statement isn't very surprising in itself; your friend, ever the fashionista, noticed your stress over your choice of outfit for the night instantly, lending you one of her favorite dresses with the words you'll look adorable, he won't be able to stay away. but the fact that pepe has noticed you enough to at least in some way collect an idea of the types of clothes you would and wouldn't wear is surprising to send a shiver down your spine. "you look great."

you can't control the redness that threatens to spread across your cheeks at that, but your gaze shifts to the ground to at least lessen some of your flusteredness. pepe doesn't miss the gentle smile that makes its way onto your lips, though. christian understands this as his cue to leave, jumping out of his seat and bolting away in just a second. pepe taps the now free spot on the couch, and you slip down next to him without another thought.

"did you get to the kitchen already?" he asks, gaze burning into the side of your face as you pretend like fixing the hem of your dress is something you actually need to do and not just a way to occupy yourself. "or do you want me to go get you something to drink?"

you shake your head, eyes flickering over to him again. "i'm alright for now, but thank you."

he nods over his cup, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. the action has the muscles of his arm contracting and… has he always been this muscular, or is it just the light of the apartment? either way, he makes it look so casual – he probably doesn't know he's the object of your current mental assessment – as if the feeling of his jeans against your bare knee isn't distracting enough. "i'm glad you came," he says after he's lowered the cup. "the party was bound to be boring without you."

there it is again; that relief you felt earlier. a sliver of a confirmation that this thing that's been going on between you two these last few weeks isn't just one-sided. unless he's just toying with you, as you've heard certain men like to do, which doesn't exactly help soothe your worries.

but pepe isn't like that, you have to remind yourself. that's one of the reasons you fell for him in the first place; he's gentle in a way you can't credit a lot of men to being, like a mild breeze instead of a full-blown storm.

someone turns the music up even more, something you would've assumed was impossible a minute ago, as if to say you're thinking too much. fewer thoughts, please.

you take a deep breath, eyes meeting his. "i'm glad you're here, too."

"what?"

you let out a short laugh at the way his face contorts as he tries to hear what you're saying over the loud music. "i said," you start, voice growing louder. "i'm glad you're here, too."

pepe nods, though you're not sure if he actually understood or if he's just faking it, before saying something you have no chance of catching. you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head slightly and jokingly bringing a hand up to the back of your ear to hear him better. you did not expect him to lean forward, nor the warm huff of air that meets your ear when he speaks into it. "it's a little too loud, isn't it?"

you nod when he leans back to look at you, the corners of your lips tugging upward at the sight of his own smile. you shrug, trying to figure out a way to solve the issue; you came here to talk to him, not to just sit next to him all quietly because you can't hear each other. you gaze around the apartment, only to find a pair of speakers placed in about every corner of it, which brings back that disappointing feeling from when your friend left you just minutes ago.

but pepe has other plans. before you can interject, his hands find your hips and lift you up to straddle his thighs sideways. it's a swift motion, and he makes it seem like you weigh about five grams, leaving you pretty completely speechless. "i figured we'd hear each other better like this," he says, one hand reaching over to grab his cup again from where he must've placed it on a table nearby just moments ago, while his other hand stays planted on your hip. when you don't say anything, his eyes rake over your face, a hint of guilt in his expression. "sorry, is this okay?"

you take a deep breath, pushing the butterflies in your stomach away for just a moment and gathering the courage to nod. "yeah," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "i just… wasn't expecting that."

the chuckle he lets out vibrates through your body, too. "well, get used to it." that damn smile of his appears again, the one you just can't stop yourself from mimicking. "i like having you close."

as his hand slips past your hip and around your waist, you allow yourself to lean into him a little, impressed by the way you find yourself enjoying your new seat very much.

impressed by the way it feels like this seat was made just for you.

[hwhimsypc]

Too Busy Being Yours

Keigo Tamaki (Hawks)/Reader

Note: first smut (except that one omegaverse i did with my friend on Ao3, but please bear with me, this is probably bad.) Anyway!

Warnings: 18+ (pretty vanilla), Not proofread

Summary: You don't like Hawks, until a late night of unexpected, Passionate events take place.

Word count: 1857

Enjoy!

Your heels click on the floor as you try to follow Hawks’ quick steps. His long legs makes it difficult to follow him while wearing stilettos. The pile of papers are tightly pressed against your chest, as you desperately try not to drop them. You’re barely looking where you’re going, and almost hit two people. Hawks is pulling you along by your arm, and he’s the only reason you haven’t hit anything yet. 

“Can you slow down?” You hiss between your teeth. He turns his head, a cocky smile perched on his lips. 

“Can’t keep up?”

You roll your eyes. Hawks was always teasing you in the worst situations possible, when you were least in the mood for it. 

“I told you we had to leave earlier.”

“Whatever you say.” He turns back. You’ll be there soon. 

Hawks always had a tack for being late. Being his assistant was by far the most stressful job you’ve ever had. And his constant jokes and cheerfulness were draining sometimes. Even if it was uplifting when you’d had a bad morning. 

You finally get to the interview, in a small apartment on a street corner. You stop to catch your breath, sweat immediately collecting on your brow. Of course, Hawks was irritatingly unaffected. 

“See ya later, darling,” he winks, and you shake your head, ignoring him. You were stressed. This interview gave you a bit of time to focus on all the paperwork you were behind on. 

You of course, don’t see Hawks’ smile quickly fading when he realises you weren’t really affected by his teasing. Funny. He wasn’t used to that. 

Hawks rising in popularity meant more paperwork for you. And paperwork for a top 3 hero wasn’t something that could wait until morning. A headache had been forming behind your forehead for the past two hours and it was simply getting too hard to ignore. You sigh, pushing out your chair, getting up to get yourself another cup of coffee. Was this your fifth today? Your seventh? It doesn’t matter, anyway. The only thing filling your brain is heroes, interviewers and media. The tiredness wasn’t allowed to nudge its way in. You couldn’t afford that. 

You’re so lost in thought, you don’t feel the presence sneaking up on you. Only when two warm hands grab your shoulders and you shriek, heart jumping in your throat. 

“What are you doing here so late?” And oh, it’s just Hawks. You groan, pushing his hand away. 

“Fuck off.” 

You turn to walk away again, suddenly forgetting what it was you came for. But Hawks isn’t giving up so easily. 

“Aww, come on, humour me.”

You’ve had enough. 

You turn around, grabbing his collar in anger. Of course, he doesn’t budge an inch. But it certainly feels good, and you’re tired and irritated, frustrated and angry. And you just… explode. 

“Don’t test me! This has been too long of a day… a week… a month… a year for that matter. You’ve tested my limits every day, for however long I have worked for you, I’m so fucking sick of being your plaything. You don’t respect me, you don’t respect my work-”

“Y/n.”

“You don’t seem to care for how I’m doing, just constantly putting more pressure on me. You never take a moment to stop and think. Maybe you’re not the fucking only person in the world.”

“Y/n.”

“Maybe, for just a second, could you care about someone that isn't you. And maybe, just maybe, would you think it isn’t my job to take care of you when you’re alone or sad, I’m your assistant for god's sake, you big!… fucking!… man baby!”

“Y/n! Oh my god, listen!”

You push him back. “But you never listen to me!”

Hawks’ eyes are wild. He looks flabbergasted, as surprised as you’ve ever seen him. But his open mouth slowly forms into a smirk. Your stomach drops. Whether it’s in anticipation, fear, or maybe even excitement, you don’t know. 

“Oh but I do. About the things that are important.”

You tsk. “What things?”

He looks too smug, as he starts to speak. 

“I know that you deeply hate the guy from block 1.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. 

“I do not-”

He laughs. “Don’t play smart. You frown everytime he opens his mouth during meetings, and always object when he has an idea. It’s obvious.”

Obvious, yet only you’ve noticed. 

It’s your turn to look flabbergasted now. 

“Okay, so maybe he’s not my favourite person in the world, you’re right about that.”

Hawks smiles. 

“And you never wear your hair up. I take it you don’t like the sensation.”

It had never really caught your attention, just how much notice Hawks took of you, compared to how little you took of him. You’re borderline speechless. This always happens to everyone around you. His fans, coworkers, but never you. You 're never affected. The man takes notice, and he suddenly seems closer than before. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

If this were five minutes ago, you would’ve sighed and rolled your eyes. But now, you’re silent. 

“I just- I didn't know.”

His fingers find Your neck and goosebumps travel through your whole body. 

“Didn't know what? That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction is of course, denial. 

“That doesn't make any sense. Why would a pro hero be into someone like-”

But you don't get to finish, as he suddenly pulls you close. 

“I’m going to kiss you. That okay?”

 You’re so surprised that you just freeze, staring up into his big, owlish eyes. You can’t tell what kind of emotion hides behind them. 

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling the desire pull in your chest, more intense than you’d ever experienced. Before you get to take another breath, Hawks lips are on yours, soft and wanting, like this is the last time he’s going to kiss you. You really hope that’s not the case. 

Breathing is the last thing on your mind as your mouths passionately move together. You’re clutching his shirt hard, and you can feel his erection growing against you. 

“I wanna eat you out,” he says, biting your earlobe. The surprisement from all of this has still not entirely passed, but you’ve decided to just go with it. 

“Please,” you moan, and it comes out a lot more desperately than you’d anticipated. You clumsy move towards your desk, his lips sucking eagerly on your neck as you both try to unzip your skirt. He hits a spot on the end of your neck that feels incredibly ticklish and good, and you moan a bit too eagerly as he desperately pushes all of the papers off of your desk in one swipe. 

You feel a stab of irritation in your chest, and is about to give him a piece of your mind, before he pushes you down with practised ease. His incredible strength really comes to sight in a situation like this. It turns you on a lot more than you’d thought it would. you seem to get surprised a lot today.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure he’d be able to spread them just fine himself, but you still listen, flinching a bit when the cold air hits your aching cunt. You’re so wet already that it’s almost embarrassing. 

He grips your thighs securely, kissing up your inner thighs. You’re so wet that you can feel the slick dripping down to your asshole. 

As soon as he gets started, Hawks is unstoppable. He eats you out like he’s starving. You’re too gone to be embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds, as he eagerly sucks your clit with the confidence of an experienced man. Your legs are shaking, and you’re sure that there will be marks tomorrow from where his fingers grip your thighs tightly. 

“Don’t, ngh- don’t stop!” you loudly breathe out, voice trembling as you, to your utmost surprise, suddenly cum. Everything feels overwhelming as he stops, lifting his head, his whole underface covered in your wetness. 

“You’re acting like I would ever,” he says, a bit out of breath. You can’t deny your attraction to him anymore, especially in a moment like this. “You taste too sweet,” his voice drops an octave as he leans closer to your face, breathing against your lips. “You can’t imagine how long I've wanted to do this. I could go on all night, until you’re completely dry. And then in the morning, I want to fuck you until my body gives out.”

That would take a while, especially with the incredible stamina he has, you think, feeling as if you’re in some kind of pleasant haze. 

“You don’t know how feral I am for you, y/n. It’s scaring even myself.”

You stare up at him in surprise, suddenly unsure of what to do. But you don’t need to be sure about anything, as Hawks leads you through it. 

He pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, as you wonder how you’re even able to take this. On an uncomfortable desk at that. But true to his word, you’re riding him like you’ve never ridden anyone ever before in his apartment a few hours later as the earliest sunlight start to stream through the curtains. 

Hawks face is pulled back in pleasure as he slides his hands up your hips, shamelessly studying your bouncing breasts. 

“You’re so good for me,” he grumbles, and you let out a pleased whine at the praise. The sheets under you are soaked, but with the way Hawks is praising and caressing you, you feel like you could go on forever. 

His mouth drops open, and you can tell that he’s about to cum. You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting impossibly louder. You just hope the neighbours won’t complain tomorrow. 

It’s incredibly thrilling, having the famous pro hero in the palm of your hand like this.

“I’m going to cum,” He warns, and not even a second later, warmth suddenly fills your belly as his white seeds coat your walls. You cum yourself only seconds later, resisting the urge not to scream as you feel his cum dribble down onto the sheets, your body spasming with the shocks. You hold back a wince at the distant thought that you’d maybe scratched his back a bit too hard. You’ll have to remember to ask him later if he’s okay. But for now, you can barely keep your eyes open. 

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” He asks, and you nod faintly, resting your head on his shoulder. Not a single thought passes behind your eyes, only the warmth of your bodies sticking together and Hawks, Hawks, Hawks. 

You didn’t care about the mess. Right now, you only cared about him. And that was enough.

[lovemyavatar]

Brat

Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Lo'ak is a brat tamer, what can I say?

Warnings: indulgent (aged up) nsfw, filth, p in v, oral, subby reader, mean dom Lo'ak

“Come on, Y/N. Do it right so I can go home.”

A frustrated huff fills tense silence. Your right arm pulls back, muscles taunt, one eye sliding closed to help aim your bow. A slow breath is drawn through pursed lips before you release, the arrow slamming into a tree nowhere near the target.

With an angry grunt, you turn on him, fingers clutching the weapon tightly at your side. “I would’ve gotten it by now, if I had a better teacher.”

“You would’ve gotten it if you knew how to listen.” He’s quick to retort, strong arms crossing over a broad chest.

Your lips pull into an irritated frown. Without responding, you nock another arrow and resume your practiced stance. Again, this one fails to land within the hastily painted circle.

“Oh my Eywa.” He draws out the Great Mother’s name, head lifting toward the sky. His eyes pinch tightly as he tries to contain his rising anger.

“Don’t be so mean, Lo’ak.” You’ve had enough of his attitude, hand raising to shove against his shoulder. He stumbles back a step, having been distracted by his own tantrum, and looks to you with surprise. “This is why you don’t have any friends.”

Without hesitation, he shoves you right back, though he makes sure the motion has no strength behind it. “Don’t push me.”

“Don’t push me.” All four fingertips poke into his chest, and this time he doesn’t budge an inch.

“You know what? We’re done.” He throws his hands up in exasperation, turns, and walks away.

“Wait!” You’re quick to chase after him, hand clamping around his elbow. “If I don’t get this my parents will kill me.”

“Not my problem.” He shakes you off, throwing the words over his shoulder without stopping.

“Lo’ak!” He doesn’t miss a step, toned back retreating steadily. You come to a stop with a huff, knowing you’ll need to stoop low to make him listen. “I’ll tell your dad!”

He comes to a halt begrudgingly, trusting that you would do it. His jaw grinds, hands tightening into fists at his sides. The toned muscles of his back and shoulders visibly tense. You always seem to find a way to get exactly what you want. It's so infuriating.

He turns, stalking toward you with a hard glare. Your eyes widen at his menacing demeanor, leaning back slightly as he grows near. He all but rips the bow from your hand, leaning over you to leer in your face. Bright yellow eyes bore into yours, shining with anger and something else. Something darker, hotter.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” His voice is low, hoarse as he spits the insult.

Your stomach dips, fluttering before the space between your legs warms. You shift on your feet, rubbing your thighs together to quench the ache. He’s quick to straighten back to his full height and push past you, shoulder knocking yours along the way. You’re momentarily stunned, gulping down the anxiety suddenly bubbling in your throat.

“No, that’s not right.” Lo'ak shakes his head, arms crossed tightly.

You've been at this for another hour, arms shaking with the effort of holding the weapon you can't seem to master. Your trembling stance releases, back bowing to relieve some of the painful tension.

“You know, maybe I would learn something if you actually showed me how to do it.” Your eyes sweep to the sky, a frustrated huff leaving your lips.

“Did you really just roll your eyes at me?” His voice drops to a gravely rumble as he takes a step toward you, closing the distance to only a few inches.

What's left of his patience is wearing thin. If it were up to him, he'd be anywhere but here. His father ordered him to train you, to teach you the ways of the bow. You're too slow, quick to give up, always holding the hunting parties back. Impossible to teach, even for someone like him who obtained the skill at an early age.

It isn't that he doesn't like you. He's known you since they two of you were young, totting around the forest with his siblings and causing trouble. You've always been there, a playmate throughout the years. Your relationship is mostly positive, aside from in these private moments. It's like you get a kick out of worming your way under his skin.

Your good girl persona is reserved for others, this part of you—the snarky comments and lingering glances—that's only for him. It sparks something within him, a desire to put you in your place. To remind you who's really in charge.

Your eyes flick up to his, wide innocence meeting narrowed heat. You blink up at him, and he seethes. He knows it's fake, knows you're trying to get a rise out of him, but he can't help but give it to you.

With a growl, large hands clamp down on your hips. You let out a startled gasp when he roughly turns you to the side, so that your chest is nearly flush with his. He grips your biceps and jerks your arms into the proper position. You watch his expression, pliant under his direction. Pinched brows, downturned lips, a determined focus behind yellow eyes. Yep, he's pissed.

“Now, do it right.” He steps back, satisfied with the position he's put you in.

Your heart races, slamming against your ribs harshly. He raises a brow expectantly, and your attention shifts toward the target. After a calming breath, you release the bow.

It hits dead center.

“Ha!” Excitement explodes in your chest as you jump up and down, lips splitting into a wide grin.

You look to him, catching the way the corner of his lips twitches before he covers the movement with a swipe of his hand.

“Good girl.” The words slip out before he can stop them. His eyes catch yours, seeing the surprise flicker behind glittering yellow before he quickly glances away.

He clears his throat and turns to retrieve the arrow. You swallow down quickly rising desire, stomach flipping. You desperately try to even out ragged breaths in the few seconds his back is turned. As he faces the tree, his eyes pinch tightly in silent reprimand. He fights to soothe his racing heart, ripping the arrow from the thick bark and turning to stalk back to you.

“Let's see if you can do it again.” He hands you the arrow, stepping back with crossed arms. Gone is the heat behind his stare, the cold, distracted gloss returning to his gaze.

You force a calming breath through tight lips, straightening your back and lifting sore arms into position.

“No, that's not how I showed you.” Lo'ak barks, voice rough with a disappointed shake of his head.

Your arms drop, head tilting in defiance as you turn to face him, hip popped with irritation. “Maybe you didn't show me well enough.”

“Lose the attitude, Y/N.” He commands, the gruff timbre of his voice sending a shockwave of heat through you, straight to your core.

Shoulders round in opposition, a twinge of anger rising at being told what to do, despite the way your body responded. "Or what?”

His teeth grind, chin dropping to pierce you with a heavy lidded glare. He takes the few steps necessary to close the distance between you, only a few inches separating his heaving chest and yours.

“You need to learn some fucking manners.” He peers down at you, restraint tightening his chest as fists clench at his sides to prevent himself from touching you.

“I've heard no other complaints.” You huff, gaze sweeping toward the sky. "Only from you—”

A deep growl permeates the small space. One of his hands jerks up, long fingers circling your arm with a gentle firmness.

“I thought I told you not to roll your eyes at me, 'evenge (girl).” He towers over you, hard stare slicing straight to your core. It clenches under the heat of his undivided attention, and you squirm in his hold.

“You didn't tell me not to, you asked if I did.” You know you sound like a petulant child, but you can't help but talk back, his domineering stance bringing out a defiance within you.

“You're just begging to be taught a lesson, aren't you?” He seethes, every last bit of strength he has used to contain himself from pouncing on you.

A humorless laugh fans his tight expression. “I don't know, you haven't been the best teacher so far.”

In an instant he lurches forward, free hand moving to grip your throat. Your eyes pop wide, gasp falling from parted lips. He jerks you toward him, molten gaze flicking over your face. A moment of tension passes, ragged breath echoing through the forest before he claims your lips with his.

You instantly press into him, heaving chests flush. His head tilts, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth as his hold on you tightens. A trembling moan flutters into his waiting mouth, and he groans. His hand slips from your arm, moving to circle your back. He hoists you up without warning, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips for support.

“Gonna fuck some manners into you, sevin (pretty). How does that sound, hmm?” He mutters against your throat, peppering your skin with sloppy kisses.

Your head falls back, overcome with desire as it swells in your lower belly, heat so intense you fear you may explode if he doesn't quench it soon.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, yawntu (love).” Fangs nip at your shoulder, and you tremble.

“Yes!” You're breathless, pliant in his hold, all disobedience gone.

“Yes, sir.” He grunts when you roll your hips, core sliding along his painfully hard cock.

A whimper falls from your lips, the rough authority in his voice nestling between your legs. “Yes, sir.”

“That's a good girl.” He claims your lips again, chest heaving under the pressure of restraint, of the effort not to take you right here.

Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you as he walks forward, weaving through the trees to find a suitable location to make you his. He lays you in the first clearing he finds, thoughts too muddled to care if it's secluded enough.

Your back bows as he rips your top off, head dipping to take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue laps at the sensitive bud, and you whimper, core clenching with emptiness. He shivers at the tender sweep of your fingers along his sides. They slide down, and around, moving toward his straining cock.

They pass over the front of his loincloth and he jolts at the burst of pleasure. Your lips twitch into a little smirk, hands moving to cup him through the thin material.

“Fuck—no.” In an instant he has your hands pinned above your head with one of his.

You squirm under him, but his hold is firm. “Let me touch you, Lo'ak.”

“You're gonna listen." His piercing gaze briefly flicks up to yours before he moves to catch your other nipple between sharp teeth. “Or you won't get what you want.”

You whimper pathetically, head pressing into soft grass. He litters your chest and stomach with sloppy kisses, sucking a few bruises into your skin as he releases your arms and continues moving down.

“Lo'ak!” You cry out at an unexpected lick against your sex. Your head lifts, eyes meeting a heavy lidded gaze as he laps at your pussy again. You fall back, overcome with pleasure.

“You like that, baby?” He hums against you, fingers moving to part your pussy lips. A tentative lick swipes over your clit, your hips jerking up at the sensation.

“Oh, Eywa.” A hand presses to your chest in an effort to soothe it's ragged tremor.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Or I stop.” He pulls back to accent the warning.

A long finger prods at your entrance before sliding inside you swiftly, bottoming out with one quick thrust. Breath catches in your throat for a moment before you force it to reach your lungs.

“Yes!” You wail as he adds another finger before ripping them both out quickly. You clench around the emptiness, stomach tightening.

“What did I tell you to call me?” A firm slap comes down over your pussy, jolting your trembling hips. The pleasurable sting makes your walls flutter again.

“Yes, sir!” You're a whiny mess already, another broken moan falling past your lips when he shoves his fingers back inside you with no warning.

His eyes never leave you as his tongue sweeps over your clit, fingers picking up a steady rhythm. His heart is thrumming wildly, the sight of you at his mercy almost enough to make him cum untouched. His cock throbs beneath his loincloth, but he wants to take care of you first.

When you tighten around his fingers he picks up the pace, tongue drawing a bruising pattern along your clit. Your back arches from the earth, breath stilling, and he knows you're close. After another deep thrust, he pulls his fingers and mouth away, watching you pulse and clench around nothing.

You whimper, brows pinching in confusion. You were right there. Your pussy warms against the abrupt stop, at being left on the edge of your orgasm. Your lips part in protest, but he's quick to tower over you, supporting his weight with one hand and ripping his loincloth off with the other.

“The only way you're cumming is on my cock. Do you understand?” The command is a gruff rasp as he loses the last shred of control.

You nod feverishly. “Yes, yes sir, please!”

He grips the base of his shaft and in one swift motion enters you, bottoming out instantly. His head dips, eyes closing tightly, forehead resting on your shoulder for support at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your legs circle him, hips rutting against his to encourage him to move. He growls as he's forced even deeper.

“Lo'ak!” You bark when he refuses to move, needing a few seconds to adjust so he doesn't cum after one thrust.

He raises his head, thumb moving up to drag along your lower lip, his own pulling into a frown at your attitude. “Do I need to stuff this pretty mouth to keep it quiet? Huh?”

His thumb forces it's way between your lips at the same moment his hips pull back before slamming into you. Your head tilts back, moan ripping from your throat, tongue circling the digit as you would his cock. He lets out a shuddering breath, stomach tightening with the effort of holding off his orgasm.

You're right there, already so worked up from his earlier ministrations. Moisture wells in your eyes, pleasure spiking more intense than you've ever felt it.

“You wanna cum, baby?” He grunts, his cock rutting into you so forcefully your back slides against the grass.

Your head bobs quickly, breath hitching when he rams into your womb.

“Use your words, honey.” He rasps, pace increasing with his own impending orgasm. “Ask for it.”

“Oh, Lo'ak—sir! Can I cum? Please!” You sob, tears sliding down your cheeks from the pleasure mounting in your core.

“Fuck! Cum for me, baby girl. Cum all over my cock.” He pounds into you, and you do just that, pussy clenching around him so tightly he has to slow down.

You gush around him, juices flowing between staggering hips. He rips his cock from your trembling pussy, spilling his cum over your stomach, hips jerking against nothing as his orgasm rips through him. His fists press into the earth beside your head, ragged breaths fanning your face. He lets out a quiet whimper as he settles, spent from the effort.

As the weight of what the two of you have just done gathers, you can't help but giggle at the absurdity of it. His eyes flick down to yours, narrowing into a hard glare.

“I guess you aren't such a bad teacher after all.” You tease, and he wastes no time in gripping your hips, turning so you're perched on top of him, ready to show you who's boss as many times as he needs to.

[weird-an]

Billy comes home from work, limbs aching and fingers dirty from working at the garage all day. Their apartment is a shitty little thing, a dumpster how Mrs. Harrington called it the one and only time she had been visiting and Steve told her it's more of a home than the big empty house back in Loch Nora.

He stops dead on his tracks. Steve is wearing his best dress shirt and there's a fucking rose next to a candle on the table.

"What is this?" Billy asks. His heart is sinking into a swamp. He hates surprises as much as he hates turning his back against the door.

"Just some... uh.. slightly burned lasagna." Steve's face turns red.

"That's why I do the cooking." Billy frowns. "Are you breaking up?"

This doesn't make any sense. They don't do romance. Billy can't.

"What? No!" Steve groans. "Why would I try to bake cherry pie for that?"

Billy huffs out a laugh, more relief than anything. Also, there's a red smudge on Steve's most expensive shirt.

"We've been together for five years now," Steve begins. "Even if you were in denial for... like the first three years."

Billy swallows hard.

"I love you," Steve says. "And I know you love me, too."

Billy bites his tongue. He has never said it. He can't, stumbles over his own tongue the second he thinks of it. He tries to show Steve instead, sometimes too harsh or too clumsy, because he isn't really sure what gentleness is supposed to be, but he tries.

"Billy, I want to stay with you forever." Steve gets out a tiny black box with shaky hands. "I'll love you every day, every night. Do you wanna marry me?"

He opens the box. The golden band sparkles in the candlelight.

"We can't get married," Billy croaks. The ring is broader than a usual wedding band - which it can't be anyway, because they can't get married and because Billy isn't stupid enough to believe that Steve wants to stay with him until death.

Steve grins at him, a shining star in the dark of the night. "We fought against monsters. We left Hawkins. We can do anything."

"But it's- The state-"

"It's not about the piece of paper," Steve says. "It's about us."

"Yes," Billy hears himself say. Because he can never say no to Steve Harrington. Because he tried to get away from him, but every way to happiness leads back to him. Because Steve is a gift Billy didn't know he needed, because Steve is his ocean, because Steve is the sun rising in the morning.

Steve's smile is brilliant. His lips taste like burned cheese and red wine.

Billy never thought he'd get married. Billy never thought he'd have a future. Billy never thought he could love someone like he does love Steve.

"I don't want six kids," he mumbles. He wouldn't know how to be a father, he thinks.

Steve gives him a knowing look. "How about five?"

[imyourbratzdoll]

hi bestie 🥺👉👈 I saw that your requests are open so… yandere!nomad!Steve falling for someone while on the run, he still wears disguises and stays low profile so it’s easy to follow her around, but he grows tired of the distance and strikes !! me thinks… he has her swooning immediately (after all, he already knows everything about her), and goes full daddy mode during their first time: rough and nasty but sweet, a dash of mean and condescending bc she fell right into his trap 🫶✨

hi, baby! I really hope you like this, and I'm sorry it took so long, I wasn't expecting a literal writing goddess to request something, so I wanted to make it as good as possible!🥺

summary - the moment steve saw you, he knew he needed to have you. so he thought the best way to get to know you... was to stalk you, what happens when he finally makes his move?

warning - stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, semi-public, smut, daddy kink, potential kidnapping.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

Steve couldn’t stop. For months, he’s been following you wherever you go, watching you. He’s even gone as far as stalking you to your home, sneaking a peek through the windows. His favourite part was when you slept, well, the second favourite. Nothing could beat watching you shower and lathering your nude form with lotions afterwards or the fact you’d take out your pathetic excuse of a toy and shyly play with your pretty little cunt.

A grunt falls from his lips as he tugs on his throbbing member. Steve’s lust-filled eyes focus on your exposed cotton white knickers, balls tightening as the cloth sticks to your folds. The thought of getting caught excites him even more. Steve watches your soft breasts bounce when you stand, and the sight causes him to pick up the pace. 

When Steve feels his end approach, he stops and tucks his hard cock back into his pants. A dark smile forms on his face as he stands at full height. Steve’s grown tired of just watching you. He wants to feel you under him. He wants to make you moan his name instead of those pathetic ones you let out with your small toy.

The burly man takes long strides toward the naive woman. When he gets close enough, your vanilla perfume fills his senses. His cock twitches, and the excitement of finally talking to you, makes him nearly cum. He clears his throat as he stands behind you, needing your attention.

The squeak that leaves your mouth and how you look up at him with those doe-like eyes as you spin around. Nearly make Steve go feral, he offers a charming smile, hoping not to scare you away. Steve holds back a smirk as you relax under his gaze, “sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you look and had to come to introduce myself.” He puts a handout, nearly groaning when you slip your small one onto his. “I’m Steve.” 

“I’m Y–Y/n” He brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses her flesh, enjoying how her cheeks turn a rosy pink. 

“That’s a beautiful name, which doesn’t surprise me as you look like a goddess.” A smooth chuckle leaves his lips, his hand still holding yours as he looks down at you. “Would a gorgeous woman like yourself be willing to let me take her out?” A dark smile appears on Steve’s face when you nod, cheeks turning a darker shade of pink.

“D–Daddy! Too much! Ohhh.” Steve growls, slowly pulling his cock from your tight cunt only to thrust back in roughly. One hand grips your hip while the other pulls the front of your dress down, groaning as your breasts bounce free. Steve leans down and latches onto your nipple, grunting as you pulse around his thick, throbbing member. 

“T–Too much? Is my cock too big for the poor baby?” His large form leans over your tiny body, squashing you further into the bed as his thrusts continue. “Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you, baby? I thought you said you could take me. Were you lying to me, sweetheart?” His cock throbs as you whimper, feeling his cock throb as thick tears roll down your face. You feel so full and split open at the same time your mind begins to go dumb. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you can answer me. Don’t you want to make daddy happy?”

“I do! I do! I wan’ make daddy happy! F–Feels good, so good!” You babble, drool leaking out of your mouth and eyes rolling to the back of your head, legs tightening around his waist, wanting to feel him deeper. A whine escapes you as his thrusts become more brutal, causing your body to move up the bed. “Daddy! M–my daddy!” 

Steve grunts, his darkened blue eyes glaring down at your sopping cunt, watching his cock pierce in and out of you. “That’s right, sweetheart. All yours, just like you’ll always be mine.” Your hands curl and grip the blankets, biting into your lip as you stare up at the god-like man. Steve deepens his thrusts. “You going to be my good girl and cum? Cover daddy’s cock with your juices?” You nod, whimpering and crying as your walls tighten and spasm around him. Steve groans as it becomes harder for him to pound into you. Using some of his super soldier strength, he pushes through. His eyes roll back as you squeeze his thick member. Juices squirt from your used hole, covering him and the sheets around you. Your body sags into the bed, and exhausted moans leave you when he continues to pound into you, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as his balls tighten and his cock twitches. Steve buries deep inside you, letting go, spurts of his thick cum filling and leaking out of you. 

You whimper when Steve pulls out of you, tiredly watching as he lifts his finger and collects the cum that leaks from your hole and pushes it back in with a curl of his finger. “D–Daddy…” Steve continues to thrust and curl his finger until you twitch and more of your juices coat him.

He takes his finger out and puts it into his mouth, groaning as he tastes you. His eyes roll back, sucking your juices off of his finger. Steve crawls beside you and pulls your used body against his large one, stroking your hair as you slowly drift off to sleep. “It’s okay, sweetheart….” He looks down at you and smirks, “You have no idea how much I have been holding myself back from you.” Steve leans down and presses a kiss on the top of your head whilst whispering. “And now that I’ve finally had you, I’m never letting you go. I love you too much to let you slip from my fingers, my sweet baby doll.”

He lies back, slowly drifting to sleep with you in his arms, smiling as he thinks of the cute little sounds you’ll make as you cry when you wake up and find yourself in an unknown place. Steve found you once and won’t let the last of his happiness disappear. 

You will be Steve’s forever… whether you like it or not.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[skania]

OnK Chapter 155 Akane Thoughts

Before I start rambling about the chapter, let me just confess that my hopes of Aka delivering some Chapter 51 & 52 parallels in the upcoming weeks just increased exponentially.

I know, I know, I'm probably playing myself but. In this week's episode we see Aqua and Akane go out together and starting to work together as a team.

And in this week's manga chapter, we see... Aqua and Akane go out together and (potentially) starting to work together as a team.

As if to prove that it's no coincidence, Akane is even wearing a choker in both, this week's episode and this week's manga chapter. Even though in the manga, she hasn't worn one since... well, the very chapter the anime is adapting this week.

It's like Aka's break was strategically placed just so the chapter & episode line up 😭

Granted, there's nothing to guarantee that he will keep it up in the next two weeks. Maybe this will be enough for him and he will call it a day. But since we've gotten this far and hope is free, may as well keep hoping while expecting nothing 😂

Moving onto the chapter, full disclosure: I've been half-expecting Akane getting the "Moving On"™ patented haircut because it very much is a thing in Asia, whether it be in manga or in real life. So no surprise there.

The reason she gave on the other hand...

^ My face knowing Aka just served Akane on a silver platter to every Akane hater out there 😂

The funniest thing about all this is that, hello?? The bangs are one thing, but are we supposed to pretend that Akane didn't wear her hair long as a kid? If anything, Akane cut her hair short that first time because her idol wore hers short. So why should anyone take short hair as a more genuine Akane thing than long hair??

But whatever, Aqua went back to his Love Now hair so the choice of haircut itself was obviously just Aka wanting Akane to be in sync with him. Because even if Aka recently spent 4 chapters establishing that Aqua is supposed to end up with someone else, he and Akane are the ones who continue to move as a pair.

Naturally.

So leaving the haircut itself aside, Akane is back to her original hair parting and thus (apparently) done imitating Ai.

The question here is: in what ways exactly has Akane been "imitating" Ai up to this point? Because I know there are a lot of different schools of thought when it comes to that.

As far as I'm concerned though, we have seen Akane, we have seen Ai, and we have seen Akane acting as Ai.

Needless to say, this isn't at all how Akane conducts herself in her day-to-day life lol

However, I don't think she means that she just shaped her hairstyle after Ai to be more like Aqua's ideal girl. That's fair and makes sense on paper, but if "imitating" Ai was just about making her hairstyle more appealing to Aqua, then why didn't she cut her hair after she and Aqua broke up? More than that, why didn't she cut it after she chose to support Kana's love life?

Because the timing of the haircut is key, IMO. She cut her hair short only after Aqua chose happiness and accomplished his revenge. In other words, she cut her hair short only after her goal of saving Aqua was accomplished.

To me, this implies that if Akane has been imitating Ai, it's been in ways that she thought would help her accomplish that goal.

Now, since she hardly speaks this chapter, it's hard to gauge what changes this will bring to Akane's characterization. However, there is one thing that already stands out to me:

Remember what happened when Akane thought that Kamiki killed Ai? She feared that Aqua would get his hands dirty by killing him in turn, and as such decided that she had to deal with Kamiki on her own in order to protect Aqua.

Now she knows that Nino is the Big Bad, and the first thing we see her do is... go discuss the situation with Aqua.

Akane now trusts that Aqua won't break, and so instead of acting on her own to protect him, she wants to be forthcoming with him.

Considering what I mentioned above about Aqua and Akane moving as a pair, I can't help but to think Aka may just be establishing Akane's own version of this:

And — what a coincidence — those lines also fit none other than Ai, who pretended to not love Kamiki and kept her distance from him because of how important he was to her.

Since Ai knew Kamiki was about to break, Ai put on a façade that wouldn't show her own doubts and fears. All in an effort to not burden him more, to protect him better even if she failed at it.

So I'm inclined to believe that may just be how Akane has been imitating Ai.

Aqua recently described Ai as someone who was always carefree, strong and who never cried. Needless to say, he was wrong about her, but that's the impression Ai deliberately tried to give. And what have we seen from Akane, especially lately?

Even when going against her true desires, Ai always put on a smile and remained flippant. So Akane may have been taking a page from that particular book... to be Aqua's perfect support.

His perfect ally.

I theorized before that this star here was Akane fully embracing the role as Aqua's girlfriend, but she wasn't just any kind of girlfriend. She was as supportive of Aqua as she possibly could, always trying to offer him solace, precisely because she knew how burdened Aqua was.

And throughout it all, Akane kept her own feelings and wants very close to her chest. She even intended to say goodbye to him with a smile, not realizing just how hard it would be on her.

Akane has been striving to save Aqua all along and playing any role she deems necessary to accomplish that goal (the supportive girlfriend, the well-meaning ex that gets in the way of his plans), but now that Aqua has finally been saved, she doesn't need to put on a mask anymore. Unlike Ai, who wore hers nearly until the very end.

With that reading, I can't help but think that Akane's wording was pretty clever. If she wants to be vague about her haircut being related to the "saving Aqua chapter" finally coming to a close for her, saying that she no longer needs to imitate Ai is a good way to convey it without actually saying it.

I may be completely off about all this, though. Truth is, we could sit here all day trying to figure out Akane's thoughts and Aka's intended meaning, but we all know that a lot of people will be running off with the most unflattering interpretations and they could be right for all I know. Aka's mind sometimes works in twisted ways 😂

That said, one unflattering interpretation I do want to fight against is that of Akane's feelings for Aqua just being an emulation of Ai's own. That doesn't add up, because Akane's goal from the get-go has been to help Aqua be happy.

And she had that goal even before she started imitating Ai:

Unless Aka retcons this, Akane's feelings for Aqua are Akane's own. He saved her and helped her be happy, and Akane has always been seeking to save him and help him be happy in turn.

It is possible that Akane has been trying to fill for Aqua the role of unconditional love and support that Ai would've filled for him if only she were alive. That's more or less just another way to say everything I already mentioned above.

However, even in that case, this should be motivated by her own feelings for him rather than Ai's. Not to mention, Ai's feelings for Aqua are motherly feelings and thus, strictly platonic. Meanwhile, Akane's for Aqua were paralleled to Ai's for her lover literally just a chapter ago:

So if Aka's writing is consistent, that particular interpretation should be off the table.

But that's enough time spent trying to make sense of Akane's line and Aka's intention behind it lol

Moving on, I can't help but notice what a big coincidence it is that right after we get a chapter showing that Ai and Kamiki are (in many ways) a failed Akane/Aqua, we now get a chapter where Akane cuts her hair short to differentiate herself from Ai.

Akane and Aqua may just be about to move into uncharted territory.

The first time we saw Aqua and Akane team up in Love Now, they did so as a business, fake relationship. Now, they're (potentially) teaming up all over again and being more honest while they're at it. What kind of dynamic will we see now, I wonder?

Granted, it doesn't have to involve anything romantic. This could be very well Aka setting up the stage for Aqua and Akane to end up as friends, and I'd personally be fine with that as long as it's executed well.

Regardless of the nature of his feelings though, I can't help but remember this:

Aqua once said that he will like Akane no matter what kind of Akane she is. With some luck, we may just see Aqua finally prove that he meant it.

His reaction when he saw her was so funny though. Aqua's feelings for Akane can be interpreted in many different ways, but indifference definitely isn't a plausible one lmao

Even here in this panel he's anything but indifferent. Almost like Akane just broached a sore subject

Also, it is kind of poetic that as soon as happiness is back on the table for Aqua, we see Aqua and Akane reunite on a chapter titled "Happy Ending" of all things lol

Now, onto the plot! It's nice to have confirmation that Aqua did originally intend to kill Kamiki. I'd like to know what exactly entailed his original plan, but that may be asking for too much at this point.

We still don't know what changed Aqua's mind, though. This chapter presents it as Aqua simply respecting Ruby's choice, but like I mentioned before, if that was all there was to it, then why didn't Aqua change his mind after he saw Ruby act the "I don't love you" scene for the first time? What let Aqua finally accept that Ruby's version of revenge was the right one?

On that same note, this chapter seems to confirm that Aqua has now embraced his life as Aqua Hoshino. He once discarded the naive thought of being happy, but now he seems ready to move on and getting a happy ending. Last time we saw Aqua pre time-skip on Chapter 151, his stars were still black. So, what gave?

We should still be missing a piece to solve that particular puzzle, IMO. I do think that Aka will eventually show it, even if it ends up being something as simple as "Kana True Oshi ❤️" (lmao)

Speaking about puzzles, it's hilarious how Aka makes Aqua be smart only when it's convenient to him. Just like Aqua magically could tell that his father was Kamiki just "thanks to Akane's movements", now he was suddenly able to tell that Nino was the big bad 😂 At least we're being told Akane already figured that out for herself, so that's good.

I swear though, if this doesn't all end with Aqua asking Akane what her happy ending is, I'll riot. Akane has spent the entire manga trying to save Aqua, and now that he's saved, she will be working to make everyone's happy ending possible. So Aqua better put in some effort to make sure Akane gets her happy ending too, whatever that may entail.

Things are moving super fast though, way faster than I thought they would. Now they even know about Yura, like?? Hopefully we'll at least get a few flashback panels to show how in the world they knew about her, because Aka is seriously pushing it lmao

In-before Aqua and Akane use a B-Komachi concert as bait to draw Nino into making a move so they can catch her. With everyone's help, of course 😂

I also can't help but wonder if Kamiki may pull some strings so that Ruby can have her Dome concert...

Everyone could see the Nino reveal coming after what happened with Kamiki, so I won't dwell on that. What I do find interesting though is that Nino is being presented as a fan gone wrong. She is everything a fan shouldn't strive to be. So knowing Aka, it's only natural that she will be contrasted to someone who is a true fan. Someone who genuinely wants only the best for their idol, without seeking to own them in any way.

Considering everything that has happened in the story, the two people who are most apt to fulfill that contrast are Aqua and Ruby. In Aqua's case in particular, that's a very interesting thought... especially considering his relationship with Kana and what Kana wants out of him: to be his number one idol, an idol that is an idol for him and him alone.

But we'll have to wait and see whether Aka sticks to his values or not 😂

All in all though, I'm very pleased that this chapter seems to put Akane front and center in this final arc, which is exactly what I was hoping for 😭 And I even got Miyako! I wish her relationship with Ruby and Aqua weren't so underdeveloped, because that family hug could've been one of the manga highlights for me otherwise.

I do kind of worry that Aka may pretend that now that Aqua has (more or less) embraced his life as Aqua Hoshino, there's no need for anyone else to know that he once was Goro though. Akane learning about it is the one thing I've always wanted to see in this manga, so I really hope Aka will at least let me have that much