#the lifter of my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luminiamore · 6 months ago

Note

I'm in an Eren mood, and just found your bomb fics🫶🏾!! I was wondering if you can do a tomboy/boxer(or weight lifter) reader who has a smart mouth with Eren, they're really competitive and always arguing(jokingly, because they both have smart mouths) it can smut or not whatever you feel🩷🩷

SUCKER.

best friend eren x boxer black reader

warnings: ex jean, eren HATES jean, pussy eating, recording, great sex/mean ren

a/n: doing a part two 🫶🏾

masterlist

Friday night, 11 p.m.

A small gathering was taking place while you were at Connie’s house. Your friends, including your annoying best friend Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Historia, her girlfriend Ymir, and your ex-boyfriend, Jean, were there. Your use of the term ‘friend’ for him is rather polite. You were here, drinking rather than mentally preparing for your match in the upcoming week at home.

You were lying on the couch. Eren lazily leaned his head on your lap, entertaining himself with random Instagram reels on his phone while holding a bottle of Cognac in his unaccompanied hand. Card games were being played by the rest of the crowd to entertain themselves. As you were all quite drunk, Connie made the decision to introduce a drinking game.

“Not gon’ play with them?” He whispers, the sound still rumbling against your exposed thighs.

You sigh, actually contemplating it. You probably would’ve said no if you were sober —scratch that—you definitely would’ve said no. You know that Eren wouldn’t play unless you did. His ego is too big to admit it, but he followed you around like a lost puppy. The only reason he came here was because of you.

“I might. Join me? We should keep a score to see who gets the most points.” You grin, head spinning when you abruptly shift your position.

“Compelling. What kind of points?”

“Isn’t this game like you have to answer a question or drink? I get to drive your beamer for a week if I answer the most questions. And you have to buy me new gloves for my match.” You poke his shoulder as you speak. You see his eyebrows raise up in amusement.

He snorts, “And what do I get if I win?”

“What do you want? And don’t say nothing crazy, I’ll fuck you up.”

At that, he gives an amused laugh, “Girl, please. You can’t even reach my face. Short ass.”

You flick his forehead with your finger, snickering when he groans a bit. “Reached it now, didn’t I?”

“You’re not funny. Nobody laughed, actually.”

“I did. Now, answer the question, fore’ I do it again.”

You get an eye roll and a sly smile on his pink lips as if he has come up with some devious plan. You would’ve started regretting this, but you’re not a quitter. You started this shit, and you’re gonna finish it through.

“You have to do anything I say for a week.”

You suck your teeth, “We not in some video on Pornhub, boy. Be for real.”

“Any video starring you and me in it would have Hollywood rushing to put it on the big screen. You be for real.”

That renders you silent. For a moment, no one says anything. Eren just stares intently into your eyes, waiting for your response.

“.. That’s what you want?”

“That’s what I want.”

There’s nothing much to say after that. You push Eren’s head up so you can stand, ass jiggling in the shorts you were wearing. As if by magic, he follows behind you, with you failing to notice his gaze drifting downwards to give your ass a drooling gaze.

They gathered in the living room and sat in a nearly perfect circle. You opted to seat yourself right next to where Sasha was sitting. Eren, of course, shoved Jean, who was sitting on the opposite side, to sit next to you. You would have said something before you and Jean broke up, but that isn’t your man.

Your relationship with Eren was a source of jealousy for him, leading to your split. For years, you and Eren had been friends; you had practically grown up together. Your moms had been friends, so by default, you two started hanging out every single day since grade school. The two of you were very close, extremely close. You slept in the same bed together; he was your first kiss, and you were his. You even lived in the same apartment.

You’re not oblivious. At least you don’t think you are. It was always clear to you that having a boyfriend would necessitate changes. The act of sleeping in the same bed and cuddling with Eren would necessitate changing. Eren reluctantly understood, but there are times when you wake up in the morning and find him fast asleep on your stomach.

Every day, Jean would complain about Eren being too close to you and how he doesn’t like him living with you. He suggested that you move in with him a month after you started dating. You two hadn’t even fucked yet.

You would never drop Eren, he was too important to you. So, it’s safe to say your relationship with Jean didn’t last long.

You ignore his gaze on you as you giggle at something Sasha said. Connie finally comes back with a stack of cards that say ‘Truth or Drink: Dirty and Sex Edition’ and a bottle of Hennessy.

“Ya’ll know the drill, answer the question, or take a shot. Don’t be pussy, though.” He addresses the group over music playing.

The game gets off to a fast start. The questions began simple, such as ‘Are you a virgin?’ or ‘How many bodies do you have?’ These are not things that should make anyone feel ashamed. Eventually, they became a bit more intimate, at least for you. You had 9 points, and Eren was in the lead with 12 points.

“Your turn, (☆).” Connie addresses you.

After pulling a card from the pile, the next question causes your breath to pause. Swiping the bottle, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself for the burn this drink will give you.

You’re stopped short by Eren, “Aht— you gotta tell us what the question says.”

“Not important.” You take a sip, gagging when the flavor finally hits your mouth. You’re too occupied to notice Eren quickly removes the card from your lap. When he reads it out loud, you almost choke on your spit.

“Have you ever hooked up with a friend?” In response to the rest of the group’s ‘Ooohs,’ he snickers at you.

You smack his head lightly, “Asshole.”

“Who you fucked, girl?” Sasha pokes at you. The attention is entirely on you, causing your face to flush in embarrassment.

“I plead the fifth.”

“Was it Eren?” Jean’s voice prompts a quick turn of your head. He looked so angry, so ticked that he could explode if you said one wrong word. You answered to avoid causing a scene,

“No.”

You’re nearly afraid to look at Eren, yet you realize he’s staring at you. His gaze was burning on the side of your face, making you squirm. Jean’s scoffing shows he didn’t believe you, but you’re not here to argue with your ex. Connie recognizes that you no longer want to talk about it, so he turns the spotlight on him when he pulls another card.

You’re about to send a grateful glance to him for that, but your body stiffens when Eren whispers in your ear,

“You just gonna lie to him like that?”

You grit your teeth, keeping your voice as low as possible, “Shut up.”

“What, you gonna protect his feelings?” Eren’s energy is condescending and irritable, to say the least.

“I’m protecting your frail ass ego. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you when I tell them you didn’t even make me cum.” You lie through your teeth, smirking, thinking you won.

You almost yelp when you feel a pinch on the side of your hips, “C’mon, mama. Your body never lies, especially not to me. Remember those pretty moans clear as day— ‘Oh, daddy! Right there— gonna cu-’”

Your hand covers his mouth, and you’re about to smack him again when you feel that stupid, cunning smile against your hand. You pause and sigh in relief when you realize that no one has heard him, as they’re too preoccupied with Sasha, who’s indulging in the bottle. No one except Jean, who’s practically seething in anger as he glares at Eren.

- -

It was now one in the morning. Most people were passed out because of how drunk they were. Only you, Eren, and Jean were awake, with Jean nearing sleep while staring at his phone. It goes without saying that Eren won the bet; he had no shame when it came to his sexual innuendos.

You’re about to get up from your seat on the floor, but Eren’s grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. You try to look at him but realize he’s not even paying attention to you. Instead, his eyes are intently focused on the shorts you’re wearing with a frown.

“You good?” You speak, thinking that your sudden voice will dislodge his gaze.

“Hmm. These shorts aren’t easy access.”

That’s the message the liquors are trying to convey -- it must be. You and Eren only slept together once, but you assured him that it was a mistake that wouldn’t happen again to keep your friendship intact. He handled it well, perhaps too well. Almost like he was expecting you to say that. As if you hadn’t experienced heaven on Earth that night, you both returned to your normal lives.

“Eren, there are people here.” You whisper rather harshly.

He unbuttons the only button on your garments, “I don’t see anyone.”

“Jean is right there.”

“..Anyone important.”

Your eyes widen when he plays with the hem of your peaking panties now that your shorts are loose. He’s so stealthy with it, too, like he’s not doing anything wrong. You have to snap out of it when you realize you’re in a room full of friends. You slap his hand,

“We’re not doing this here.”

His response is quick, “Oh, so if we weren’t here, you would?”

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it somewhere else?” Jean is downright peeved by the sexual tension that is erupting between you two. At this point, he’s just annoyed. Annoyed that his suspicions were confirmed. You two are definitely more than just friends.

You freeze, failing to remember that he was still awake for a moment.

“Jean, it’s not like that-”

“It is like that. I might take you up on that offer, Jean boy.” Eren abruptly ends your sentence with a gleaming smile, making it clear that he’s only trying to annoy him. He’s petty like that. You’re tempted to hit him again.

“No, it’s not. Stop being petty-”

Eren turns to you abruptly, eyes zeroed in on your lips. His voice is purposely loud so Jean can hear precisely what he’s saying to you. “Will you let me eat your pussy again if we leave here, (☆)?”

You gasp, your pussy tightening a bit at how desperate his tone is. You really want to say yes, but you know that’s the liquor talking. It has to be. Jean scoffs, pulling you out of your daze.

You scowl and push his hands off you, “I’m leaving, and I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

When you stumble to stand, he watches you, his eyes fixed on the fatness of your ass and its movement. These shorts are a favorite of his. He sighs, his lips twitching as he speaks,

“Can I-”

“No.” And with that, you stumble off to the room, making sure to lock the door behind you.

Eren makes the decision to return to the couch in the living room to sleep. Jean’s eyes never leave him all the time, and when he catches him staring, he doesn’t fail to stare back,

“The fuck are you looking at?”

Monday afternoon, 3 p.m.

“Imma be real with you. I’m all for equality and shit, but seriously, you hit like a girl.”

The deep voice of your best friend flutters in your ears as you throw another punch at the hand he’s holding up. You’re both in the boxing ring at your local gym, practicing for your next match.

As always, your best friend is there to help you and throw some lighthearted insults your way.

“Eren, please don’t get fucked up.”

He gives a laugh, a genuine one that makes you roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? With those weak ass hits? Forgive me if I’m not shaking in my shoes right now.”

You throw another hit at his wrapped-up hand, harder this time. You can tell by the way his unwavering hands move a little. You grit your teeth at the fact that he doesn’t wholly stumble back.

“Yo,’ ass was damn sure shaking in your shoes when I almost folded you.”

“So, we lying now?” That little smirk that was forming on his face never backed down.

It almost irritates you how arrogant he is. Connie and Eren always get into these friendly play fights, never anything serious. But that’s just your best friend. If anything, you would probably chew up any other person with your mouth. Connie, for example. Not Eren, though; he always had something to say back.

“Every word that comes out your mouth is a lie.” Your whisper

“You not any better.”

You hit his hand again, “Now, what the hell are you yapping about.”

“Why would you lie to your little boyfriend yesterday?” His voice is low and calculated as he questions you. He was getting heated again.

“Ex. And I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to tell the man who’s been worried about us the entire time we dated that I got your dick wet.”

“Dated. Past tense. So, why the fuck are you worried about it?” Now, he holds your hands to prevent you from moving.

You huff, “I’m not rude, Eren. I have no beef with the man. Now, let’s keep practicing, please.”

You think he’s going to release your hands, but he only stares at you. Your heart is racing. Does he really feel upset about this?

It seems he is because Eren pulls your body out of the ring and drags you to the nearest locker room. The gym is closed today, only opened to the two of you because he’s friends with the owner. Now that he has you to himself, he has no worries about anyone ruining this moment.

You would have protested; your resolve is usually stronger than this. But it’s Eren. Your Eren. Your best friend who happens to be really good with his tongue, his fingers, and that absolute monster in between his legs.

Fuck it feels so electric when his tongue laps in between your wet folds, your body squirming on the bench he seated you on. You can’t stop twitching, your arousal just overflowing on his tongue.

“Thought this was a mistake? ‘It can never happen again’, that’s what you said right?” He lightly bites on your clit, relishing in the gasp you emit.

“Look at you now, letting it happen again.”

He pushes two fingers past your walls and rapidly moves them in and out, grazing your spongy spot. They’re curling inside you, and with every stroke, you feel yourself falling more into a haze. Your eyes start crossing as Eren stirs up your insides.

You whimper out, “S-Shut up. Shitt.”

“Oh, no. You’re gonna listen t’me today. Maybe we should send a video to Jean, show him everything he could never do to you.”

You hate yourself for it, but the thought of it gets you even wetter for some reason. With the way your best friend chuckles against your core as the squelching sounds coming from you get louder, he can tell, too. Your pretty brown pussy is just splashing on his face, he’s in love with it— in love with you.

He rasps out breathily, “Wet my face, baby.”

Your face twists as he works his fingers against your cervix. The sounds coming from you are simply divine. The heat in your stomach is palpable, and the heat in every crevice of your body is sizzling and electrified.

“Want me to fuck you, right? Cum then, (☆).”

It’s as if your body knows what he’s saying because you release immediately. Your body shakes when you squirt. Your addicting juices spraying all over his fingers— his face. Eren slurps up everything you have to offer, and its sounds are just so obscene that you’re sure anyone would know what’s going on if they just walked by the door. Your loud moans would probably give it away, too.

Eren deliberately takes his time creeping up to your panting lips and pulling his thick fingers out of your walls. Your breath is sucked out of your lungs when he kisses your lips. The taste of your essence makes your pussy drip as he sucks on your tongue. You love it, so drunk off the taste of him.

You frantically pull his hips onto yours, unaware that he’s already pulled his dick out. It’s not much for his tip to force itself inside of you. He has to do most of the work to fuck the rest of his inches in. You’re gasping against his lips, trying to moan, but he won’t let you. Every time, he swallows them.

It’s torture. He’s so thick that it stings a little. He gets a little impatient and slams into you all at once. Screaming in a muffled voice, you quickly press your hands on his stomach. He’s making your pussy sing some nasty noises that make you feel so good.

You’re squirming your body as Eren starts feeding you gut-punching stokes. That won’t do.

With a harsh grip on your wrists, he pushes them above your head with one hand. “I couldn’t make you cum, right?”

You huff, your eyes rolling back in your head when he abuses your cervix. It’s too late for you to realize when Eren takes out your phone. He knows your password and keeps thrusting in you when he opens Jean’s message thread. He scoffs when he realizes you haven’t yet blocked and deleted his number.

That catches your attention as your eyes struggle to settle on him, “W-What are you doing?”

He shuts you up by speeding up his movements. Shit. You almost choke on your spit when he leans his body on you so hard your legs are reaching your ears. The only inkling you get that he’s recording is when your ears catch on the sound it makes when he presses that red button.

You don’t stop him or even struggle against his hold. You can only morph your face into pleasurable expressions as he makes you feel euphoria. He sets your phone on the wall behind the bench, and he can see it’s showcasing the both of you. Good.

Eren, let’s go of your wrists to use both hands to press on the back of your thighs into the wood underneath you. You feel him deeper this way, his bulge pressing against your stomach every time his tip touches your womb. He finds joy in the fact that the camera captured that.

“Ren— baby— I’m g-gonna make another mess.” You whine, pressing on his stomach to stave off your impending orgasm—it does nothing. Nothing, but make him push harder so you can feel how deep he’s going.

“Go on then. Show the camera how messy you get for me and only me.”

Your breathing stutters, “Only you— fuckkk. S’too m-much”

“You love me, baby?”

You cum right then, choking on your moans as you barely get your words out, “Love you so much.”

He groans against your ears when he fills your pussy with his seed. It’s so much, too, so thick, you feel as if it’s coming out your throat. This is what you craved the most, the feeling of his cum stuffing you. You’ve dreamed about this since he did it for the first time.

Feeling worn out, you are basking in the afterglow while breathing heavily. Eren never takes his dick out of you, but he takes this moment to end the video and quickly sends it to Jean with a small message accompanying it,

she lied, lol. 😂

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hoseoksluna · 7 months ago

Text

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy.

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world.

White wine.

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks.

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him.

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now.

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight.

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you.

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too.

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently.

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion.

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy.

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before.

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room.

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.”

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away.

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard.

“Taste it for me first.”

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too.

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.”

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp.

“More.”

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?”

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum.

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it.

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good.

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name.

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree.

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain.

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts.

“You’re gonna take control of me?”

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face.

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.”

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?”

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.”

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way.

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?”

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.”

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?”

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.”

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up.

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession.

“No, not from her. Please, from you.”

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger.

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper.

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.”

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants.

“Boxers, too?”

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.”

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp.

And he lets you. In the name of love.

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home.

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him.

How sweet.

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?”

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch.

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view.

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain.

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?”

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth.

You knew it.

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.”

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him.

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan.

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?”

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you.

“Vinny.”

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable.

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?”

“Please.”

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger.

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether.

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness.

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him.

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.”

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.”

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?”

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.”

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is.

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?”

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths.

Then, Jungkook glares at you.

“I’m gonna destroy you.”

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.”

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his.

And he proves you right.

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid.

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.”

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it.

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does.

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did.

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.”

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?”

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings.

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it.

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him.

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine.

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come.

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?”

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.”

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow.

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again.

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless.

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.”

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?”

“And your snores.”

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him.

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time.

You shake your head. “I messed up.”

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock.

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.”

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.”

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain.

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?”

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?”

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.”

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.”

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks.

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down.

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand.

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets.

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.”

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.”

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back.

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.”

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.”

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering.

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there.

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.”

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?”

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.”

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?”

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole.

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue.

“Sit up. Ride my face.”

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake.

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take.

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come.

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew.

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him.

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.”

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest.

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars.

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease.

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.”

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit.

And then he gets up.

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you.

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.”

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them.

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth.

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves.

“I love you, Ggukie.”

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips.

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.”

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can.

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart.

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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sheerfreesia007 · 1 month ago

Text

Wrong Number

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Word count: 2,665

Content warnings: Fluff, suggestive

Summary: While at the gym you mistakenly grab the hot buff weight lifter’s phone. Not knowing who he is, you're confused and bewildered by all the text messages and what they say. But what happens when his friends figure out that you’re watching the group chat? Will they blow his chances on a date with you?

Pabo: Fool

The sounds of the weights clinking together as they tapped with each movement of the gym patrons creates a steady background soundtrack for you as you walk out onto the gym floor. You had just finished teaching your latest yoga class and wanted to get a dumbbell workout in before heading home for the evening. Walking over to the rack of dumbbells you set your cell phone, water bottle and lanyard on the floor against the mirrors. You tapped your earbuds that you had already put into your ear and moved to the rack of weights before picking up two of them.

You moved to the side and set everything down before you began to warm up and stretch your muscles out. When you felt as if your muscles were properly primed to lift weights you began to run through your sets. Soon you got into a rhythm that kept you preoccupied and distracted with the stretch and burn of your muscles. You were so lost in your workout and the burn of it that you didn’t notice the buff stocky man setting down his things next to yours before moving over to the weights.

When you caught his movements out of the corner of your eye you jolted in your place and he burst out in loud laughter at your shock. You laugh along with him as you tap your earbuds to turn off your music and set the weights down on the floor.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he says as his laughter calms down and he grins at you.

“No worries, I got too lost in my workout.” you assure him with a dismissive wave your hand.

“I’ve seen you around the gym before, do you often lift weights at night?” he asked curiously as looked over the weights to choose which ones he wanted to work with tonight.

“Usually after my late yoga classes I’ll stay for an extra hour or two and lift weights.” you tell him and he nods his head with a raised eyebrow.

“You teach yoga?” he queries and you smile while nodding your head at him.

“Four days a week, Monday to Thursday. And twice a month on the weekends. Been trying to work as much as I can as an instructor so that I gain experience.” you explain to him easily. He nods his head at your words before tilting his head to the side before he begins to curl his arms up, lifting the dumbbells easily. Your eyes follow his movement and can’t help but admire his form and the physique of his body.

“What is the experience going to help you with?” he asks curiously and your eyes darted up to him in the mirror.

“I want to open my own yoga studio. I feel like having more experience as an instructor will help my studio gain more popularity.” you tell him and he nods his head in agreement.

“That’s a good way of thinking.” he says with an easy smile. “How far along are you in the process of setting up the studio?” he asked and you grinned excitedly. You loved talking about your plans to open a yoga studio and often had to pull yourself back from oversharing but as you stood near this man you didn’t feel like you normally did when you talked about your plans.

“Right now, I’ve been keeping track of all the commercial properties that I think would work for a studio. I’ve also started reaching out in the yoga community to see if any other instructors would be interested in joining my studio once I have set up. It’s still at least a year away from coming together but I’ve already got the back end of things set up with the bank and legalities.” you explained as you bounced slightly on your toes and he smiled happily at your actions.

“That’s good, what properties were you looking at?” he asked and you tilted your head at him curiously as your eyes squinted slightly. He laughed softly before ducking his head. “I’ve got a hand in commercial properties so I’m just curious if you’ve been looking at some of mine.” he reassured you and your eyes instantly widened at the connection you recognized in front of you.

“Oh, wow! Uh, well the bottom floor of the building on ninth and thirtieth.” you tell him and he frowns softly for a moment before nodding his head.

“Oh okay, that one isn’t mine but I know who owns it. One of my buddies does and maybe if I sweet talk him he’ll put it on the market at a discount.” he says sweetly and you let your mouth drop open slightly causing him to chuckle at you.

“No, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” you say in a gasp and he shakes his head easily as he grins at you.

“Nonsense, he’s been sitting on that property for months now. Gatekeeping it really the little shit.” he says knowingly. You watch as he sets his weights down and moves to his things before grabbing his phone and opens his contact list. “Give me your number so that I can text you after I talk to him about it.” he says almost commandingly and you feel your body flush with heat at his tone. You quickly curb your attraction to him before giving him your number. You watch as he sets his phone back down on the floor and you smile brightly at him as your eyes dart over the bright pink phone case.

“Thank you so much for the offer, but really don’t put yourself out because of me.” you gush out to him and he shakes his head at you as he grins lazily.

“It’s no trouble.” he reassures you. “Maybe once you get the studio up and running you can give me a few lessons.” he says in a lower tone as he leans closer to you. You flush brightly at his proximity and you quickly nod your head in agreement as you look up into his face.

“Of course, I’ll give you a whole month free before I charge you the discounted rate.” you tease him gently and he chuckles low in tone causing your stomach to twist with pleasure at the sound. He smirks at you and you grin brightly up at him as you both lean in closer to each other.

Just then there’s a loud bang and you jerk back from him and he grunts softly as one hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck. There’s a soft blush dusting his cheeks and you smile softly at him before you turn and bend over to grab your things.

“Thank you so much for your help with the property.” you gush to him once more and grin widely at him as you shake your phone at him. “And you’ve got great taste in phone cases.” his eyes focus on your phone in your hand before darting back down to see his identical phone case lying on the floor next to his things and he flushes even brighter.

“It was a dare from one of my buddies and I grew attached to the color.” he admits while ducking his head and you beam at him.

“Well I like it that we match.” you tell him softly and he whips his head up to stare at you hopefully. “Thank you again!” you say to him before rushing to the lockerroom to get changed and leave for the evening.

*-*-*-*

You don’t notice anything is amiss until you’re sleeping soundly in your bed and your phone buzzes loudly on your end table. Frowning you wonder who would be texting you so late at night. Rolling over in the bed you grab your phone and open it crying out loudly as you’re nearly blinded by how bright the phone is set to. Quickly turning the phone light down you swipe the notifications downward and see a whole slew of messages and phone calls, all ranging from bizarre to desperate.

You cock an eyebrow when you notice one text asking Is it hydrochloric acid or hyaluronic acid that burns the skin? Your eyes dart up to the contact name and see Pabo # 7 with a little fox emoji. Swiping that message away another one immediately pops up and your eyebrow raises even more at the message, Hydrochloric. Bernie now has a hole in his neck. Think we can start calling him Holey?

You’re utterly confused and baffled at the messages you just read but then you start to notice that the other messages on the phone have the same feeling and vibe to them, each message getting stranger and stranger with the questions and comments that are sent from each Pabo since there were seven of them. Sighing softly you realize that you had mistakenly grabbed the man’s phone that you had been talking to at the gym.

Swiping the phone open you’re surprised by how easy it is to open it, there’s no fingerprint scan or pin to put in for security. Frowning softly you vow to scold the man for that fact since anyone could get into his phone. You quickly bring up your contact and type out a text message to the man.

I’m so sorry for grabbing your phone by accident at the gym! Meet me at Three Bean Coffee House tomorrow morning at eight. We can swap the phones and I’ll buy you a coffee as an apology. You set the phone back down on your end table knowing that he won’t be able to answer your text because of the security lock you have on your phone. You then lay back down in your bed meaning to fall back asleep but then the phone starts to buzz wildly. Frowning once more you pick it up to glare at the screen again, but you can see the group chat that he has with Pabo # 1-7 is suddenly blowing up with activity and your curiosity peaks.

Binnie lost his phone because he was too busy checking out a hot yoga teacher! Comes the first message from Pabo # 1 and you chuckle softly at the words as all the others began to chime in. Are you really that surprised? Man can’t multitask on a good, forget it if he’s distracted by a pretty woman. Your hand raises to cover your mouth as you begin to laugh fully at his friends’ teasing, Pabo # 2 seemed especially quick with his teasing remarks. Is that why he never answered my acid question? You nod your head in response to that question as you roll your eyes. What did you want to know about acid? Pabo # 6 asks and you watch as the group chat derails into a conversation about what’s the best acid to use for different purposes.

Sorry hot yoga teacher for all the texts! I’m sure you’re probably trying to sleep. Finally comes a message from Pabo # 5 that brings the group chat back to their main point and you scoff softly at your new nickname from his friends. Hot yoga teacher, how flexible are you? Comes a question from Pabo # 3 that makes you roll your eyes almost violently as you scoff softly before a devious idea flits into your head. You quickly type out a response and hit send. Too flexible for you. And suddenly the group chat is bombarded with texts, you chuckle delighted at the chaos you just caused before silencing the phone and setting it back down on your end table. You quickly then fall back to sleep not bothering to check the phone again.

*-*-*-*

The next morning you’re up bright and early, already stretching out on your yoga mat before taking a shower and getting dressed in your workout outfit for the day. Today you’ve got a busy schedule of classes at the gym and you have to make it to Three Bean Coffee House to swap your phone with Binnie’s.

As you make the walk down to the coffee shop you can’t help the smile that graces your face, the group chat after you had dropped the bomb in it had been active until well into the early morning hours. Each of his friends try to entice you back into the group chat with corny pick up lines and promises to take care of you better than Binnie ever could. But they had assured you that they were teasing which had made your heart race with affection for them. They may be a little rowdy and chaotic but they seemed like good enough guys if they reassured you of their teasing.

Just as you opened the door to the coffee house you spotted him sitting at a table smack dab in the middle of the coffee house. There were a few other patrons in the place but not many since it was still early. You walk over to him and he looks up at you with a worried look on his face.

“I am so sorry for grabbing your phone yesterday! I didn’t mean to, honestly.” you quickly say to him and he smiles softly at you before waving his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it. It was an easy mistake to make, we do match after all.” he says teasingly with a wink and you blush softly at his words. “I hope my friends didn’t completely mess up my chances at free yoga for a month did they?” he asked with a slight wince on his face. You chuckled amused as you shook your head at him.

“No but they certainly have some weird questions.” you tell him and he sighs deeply making you chuckle again. You hand him the phone and he hands yours over as well. “What kind of drink would you like, Binnie?” you ask and his head whips up to stare at you with wide eyes before his face flushes brightly at the nickname. He shyly tells you his order and you walk away to order and pay for it as he quickly swipes through his phone. “By the way you might want to put a pin on the phone or a fingerprint scan so that you have some sort of security.” you tell him sternly and he ducks his head before nodding in agreement.

“I can never remember my passwords so I’ll have to set up a fingerprint scan.” he admits and you tilt your head at him for a second before grinning widely at him as you remember what his friends had teased about him not being able to multitask. “I do apologize for my friends’ they can be a bit much sometimes.” he said softly and you burst out in laughter at his downplay of his friends.

“Just sometimes?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. “They’re all a bunch of chaotic idiots and they might owe me therapy.” you joke and he bursts out laughing.

“How about a nice dinner with me instead?” he offers hopefully and you grin at him as a blush coasts on to your cheeks.

“I would love that Binnie.” you coo softly at him and he ducks his head again. “But on one condition.” you follow up with and he looks up at you with a furrowed eyebrow. “I wanna be there when you knock some sense into your friends’ heads. Especially Pabo # 3.” Binnie stares at you with a horrified look on his face before he responds.

“Oh god, what did Hyunjin say?” he asks before going back to his phone scrolling through the group chat. You chuckle and reach across to place your hand over his phone and he looks up at you worriedly.

“Maybe after dinner I can show you how flexible I am thanks to yoga and you can brag about it to them.” you tell him sultrily and Binnie gulps loudly at your implication.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #seo changbin #changbin

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forcedtogrow · 3 months ago

Text

FTM cock-shame, forcemasc edition

You’ve been going to the gym with your coach for a while now, he’s a bigger and more experienced lifter and has helped you push through every goal you thought was impossible to reach. After many, many weeks of watching your hunky coach glistening with sweat, you start to get curious about his tdick, if he’s big all over… He wears a packer most of the time to create a bulge in his gym shorts that makes it hard to tell, but one day he forgets to wear underwear and you catch him changing.

His soft is bigger than your hard, in every dimension. It’s honestly embarrassing that a guy like you is even considered in the same category as a guy like him—that’s what you think anyway. You’re getting hard watching his dick jiggle as he shifts his weight while changing, but it’s not like anyone will notice less than an inch in your boxer briefs. You look away in time so he doesn’t see you flush with humiliation for being so inferior, you didn’t even know bottom growth could look like that! I mean, you’re really small anyway, maybe half an inch? Most guys don’t get luckier than 1.5 inches even after years on T…but he is packing.

Your arm brushes his while you pull your shirt off and adjust your binder, he smiles at you. “Nice job today kid, I can tell you’ve been training hard between sessions”, he’s toweling off his upper body while he talks to you, flexing and contracting his arms, chest, his back—“you seem distracted”, he points out as you’re staring at his pecs, and coach flexes to emphasize he knows where your attention is at.

“I, uh, I’m ah…I mean I’ve never seen you change before”. You wish you hadn’t said it but when you start you can’t stop, “your bottom growth is fucking huge, coach. I didn’t think it could get that big”. He laughs and punches your arm harder than he means to, or maybe he wanted to hit you that hard. “It can, if you don’t mess around with that low dose shit, you could make way more progress if you doubled your dose and stop being scared of becoming a man”. Coach puts his hand on your shoulder and gives you a faint smile, like a good father softening criticism with love.

“You want to look like me right?”, he cups one of his pecs and runs his hand down his abdomen. “You want to get big and hairy,” he grabs your hand and rubs it against the coarse hair on his abdomen, “just like this right? And down here too”. You stop just shy of touching his dick. “What if someone sees us coach? I don’t wanna be the gym slut…”.

“You won’t be the gym slut, you’ll be my slut, but only if you up your dose and start growing for me”. Coach lifts you up and carries you to the back of the locker room, slamming you up against the wall. “Let’s play show and tell, kid. Show me yours and I’ll tell you how big you could get if you really wanted”. You pull down your boxer briefs to show the tiniest head of growth, like a mini dick-tip barely poking out of its foreskin.

“That’s it? Really?” He bends down to look closer, keeping his hands on your waist; you can feel the warmth of his breath on you. “It’s not like I can make it grow faster! It-it’s just growing slower cus I’m on the gel…it’s not fair to compare us anyway, coach. You have the biggest I’ve ever seen”, you can almost feel his lips touching you and suddenly your legs feel like giving out. “No more gel. No more low-dose T.”, coach rubs his bottom lip over your dick, making it twitch in a way you’ve never felt before. “If you promise to do your shots and turn into a big, hairy muscle man for me I’ll suck you off, and you can think about how much better it’ll feel to get a blowjob when you have a big fat cock like mine”, you start squirming your hips trying to force yourself into his mouth, but he easily forces you down with his strong hands.

“I’ll double my dose coach, I’ll do it tonight! I’ll let you put the shot in my ass yourself”. As you say it he starts to close his lips around you and gently circle your tip with his tongue, but stops abruptly. “Don’t get so excited kid, I’m gonna need a little more effort from you if you really want to show me how much you want to be a man”. Coach presses you harder into the wall, “see how easy it is for me to pin you? Don’t you wish you were strong like me?”. You start to moan and pitifully try to push him off of you, accidentally rubbing your dick against his thigh. “Seems like all you want right now is my mouth. Isn’t that right, slut?”. You let your mouth hang open and start rocking your body against your coaches hard, hairy thighs.

“I want to be just like you coach…”, you say moving close enough to kiss him, but he puts his hand over your mouth. “How about this”, coach moves down to your hips again, “I’m gonna suck your baby dick while you tell me how badly you want to be a big man for me”.

Coach starts lightly wrapping his lips around you, not sucking yet, just looking up at you like a muscle whore. “I want to be just like you coach, I want to eat and lift until my muscles feel like they’re going to explode”, coach starts sucking you off and doing this flick with his tongue…even his tongue is so strong… “I want to be be bigger than you, even if I have to quit my job and lift 24/7 and be an empty-headed muscle slut, only thinking about injecting myself with T and eating and lifting until the only clothes I can wear are XXL tank tops, I-“ you gasp as coach grabs your ass to push your cock harder into his mouth, sucking and slipping his tongue over your hole as the same time. “I-I…want to feel my dick getting bigger, I want to fill up your mouth with thick it is, I want to look like a real man next to you”. Coach keeps sucking and starts finger banging you like he’s possessed, you could not have imagined how sexy he would look with his shoulders flexed, veins bulging on his arms while he takes you into his mouth…red faced, sweating, gasping and moaning on your little clit-dick…

You cum so hard in his mouth you feel on the edge of blacking out.

“Now bend over and I’ll get the needle”.

#force masc #autoandrophilia #forcemasc #forced masculinization #ftm nsft #ftm top #ftm dom #ftm t4t #ftm sub #ftm ns/fw #ftm bottom #bottom growth #nsft tdick #tdick #cock shame #ftm4ftm

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party-fic · 2 months ago

Note

Could I maybe ask for some Folly headcanons I require food

So instead of x reader this ones gonna be more general Head Cannons about Folly! x reader can be found on my profile though

☆⤍Folly Headcannons⤌☆

☆⤍ You'll never hear or see her before she senses you. She's a people-watcher in the worst way.

☆⤍ Nothing about her is soft—not her voice, her clawed hands, or her face. Maybe her sweater is comfortable, but it feels like a thick blanket over a solid body.

☆⤍ Folly can alter her form, maybe sprout a few extra eyes to freak out someone who hates being watched—or grow just a little taller than a certain addict. (Looking at you Walter.)

☆⤍ Some how keeps the worst posture known to man in every single form. If they were mortal their spine would look a C by now.

☆⤍ She enjoys classic horror and drama. Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson, The Iliad, and The Odyssey are her favorites. Her all-time favorite poem is "Much Madness in Divinest Sense" by Emily Dickinson.

☆⤍ Her favorite tea is Blood Orange with a bit of mint.

☆⤍ She has a ridiculously strong sweet tooth. She'd eat something so sweet it could make even Poob feel sick.

☆⤍ Once, she found peace and a sense of belonging with a close friend, but those feelings have long since faded.

☆⤍ Folly would love to keep something exotic as a pet—like spiders or bats—but nothing can survive long in the Nightmare Realm. Except her, of course.

☆⤍ Loud music or too much noise pisses them off so bad. She prefers a terrified silence to screams of horror. The sight of someone too scared to speak or move? Oh, the smile it brings to her face.

☆⤍ She feeds off fear and negative emotions and could theoretically live on them alone.

☆⤍ She's chubby, with a heavy-lifter build (think WWE's Kharma—look her up she's so cool). Even without her nightmare powers, Folly could bench Walter's weight.

☆⤍ Folly doesn’t hate children, but she doesn’t like having them around. However, she'd happily teach them swear words and how to spot people's insecurities.

☆⤍ incase ya haven't noticed I'm a firm believer in She/they Folly. maybe some Neos too (chat I do not use Neo pronouns but i just feel like they fit her vibe.)

#regretevator folly #folly #headcanon #shes so so so cool #regretevator #my headcanons #sorry it took so long i got sleepy

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celaenaeiln · 1 year ago

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i mean this in the most neutral tone, but, im genuinely confused with this eldest daughter syndrome dick thing? as far as i know, he never lives in the manor with other batsiblings and personally take care of them except damian, and just "yeets" from any possible trouble or tension within the siblings or when they have issues with bruce

No worries I totally get it! And I'm here to deliver!

First, to be fair to Dick, no one lives in the manor aside from Damian and sometimes Tim.

Dick lives in Bludhaven, Steph lives in Gotham U? She's been in and out of comics but otherwise her own house. Cass lives in Leslie's clinic, Tim alternates between the Titans and the manor, Jason lives anywhere that doesn't have Bruce, and Duke lives with his uncle.

However that doesn't mean they don't all rely on him.

I think the confusion comes from scenes like this-

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #10

Where it seems like Dick just left Tim to deal with Bruce on his own. But-

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #10

Dick called him. When Tim when to him for advice, he gave him advice but also knew it couldn't just stop there. So he called Bruce to get it through his thick head that he's allowed to be happy. If there's anyone that can change Bruce's mind on anything it's Dick.

Which brings me to my next instance of Dick acting as the mediator and emotional burden lifter of his family. When each batkid dies (or almost dies in Dick's case), Bruce grieves in a different way. With Jason he took it out on criminals, with Tim he took it out on himself, with Dick he took it out on criminals and heroes, and with Damian, he wanted to undo what happened. He torments Jason about it, goes too hard on the criminals, gets worsened by Barbara, gets helped a little by Selina but also feels a billion times worse about Damian's death so-

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

He locks himself in a simulator for days trying to see and fix where he went from when Heretic killed Damian. Nothing gets through to him so Alfred pulls out the Big Guns - he calls in Dick.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

"Richard just came in from Chicago to--"

"Talk some sense into me?"

"Yes, I've implored you to shut this...thing off and join the living, but you have turned a deaf ear for days."

"This calling in the cavalry routine is getting old, Alfred."

Since the dawn of Batman and Robin, Dick has always acted as the mediator for Bruce and the family. Always.

With Dick's help, finally, after days, Damian's saved.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

And Dick finally brings Bruce back to life.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

He took a destructive, dead-man-walking and breathed life and hope back into him to stop him from taking his grief and anger out on his family and criminals.

Also-

LOOK AT THE WAY THEY'RE SEATED. DICK IS LITERALLY BRUCE'S THERAPIST.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

Calling in the cavalry always works.

Of course there's times when Dick doesn't help mediate. But the issue is not that he doesn't want to or he pushes it off, it's that he can't. What the hell are you supposed to do when the mediator who mediates all your problems is themself broken?

Dick really wants to help Tim but he can't. He can't find it in himself to barely live right now because Donna-his platonic soulmate-is dead.

Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files

He really can't.

Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files

She was his sister too. Pretty much blood.

I actually think the fact that Dick doesn't live in the manor makes the fact that he still takes care of all his siblings and their problems with Bruce even more important. To calm and rationalize down Bruce and take care of his siblings, he's constantly flying or driving back and forth between different cities, dropping his cases and work, ignoring his problems, just to be there for them.

For another example, when Dick hears that the newest Batman is causing problems in Gotham and Bruce just abandoned Tim to deal with everything and Tim nearly got hurt, he comes all the way back to Gotham to rail Bruce out for doing that to him.

Robin (1993) Issue #8

When Bruce teams with Damian their relationship so tumultuous but once again Dick steps in.

Batman: The Return

"I need a partner who can stay focused and keep up."

"Bruce, come on! I made a career out of not doing anything I was told when I was Robin. He gave up everything for this. You can't just take it away...you can't cut him out."

He keeps Robin from being fired and continues being Damian's support system.

It's not just mediating though, Dick fully steps in to take care of the batfamily whenever Bruce absconds or there's trouble.

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #24

He's like the command center of the family.

This picture just embodies his role.

Batman (2011) Issue #15

And as Bruce once said-

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #22

He's really the eldest daughter and caretaker.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #tim drake #red robin #robin tim drake #damian wayne #robin #alfred pennyworth #batfamily #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

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machveil · 2 months ago

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Konig with an 8' tall, beefy, hairy m!reader?

for context, I’m 5’3”/160cm and I think I would lose my mind seeing someone built like that lmfao

so, let’s get this ball rolling with some of my own thoughts first. I headcanon König coming in at 6’10”/~208cm. in this post I talk about his family’s height, and König’s eldest brother is coming in at 7’2”/~218cm

so, just to give everyone a frame of reference, König being 6’10”/~208cm and M!Reader being 8’/~244cm is really tall - the average doorframe is 6’7”/~201cm. these men are ducking under doorframes to get into rooms can’t relate

König, confident and cocky Colonel that he is, wasn’t used to being shorter than people. sure, his brothers are taller than him, but at KorTac? he’s one of, if not the, tallest people there. so when you show up on base as a new operative?

König’s ego gets a little bruised. masked or face on display, it doesn’t matter, your size alone is threatening to everyone - let alone your physique! well trained muscles, bulky and covered in a healthy amount of fat, and body hair for days. your appearance is practically oozing with masculinity

standing next to König? he feels dwarfed, poor man. is this how people feel around him? small? König considered himself to be strong, a previous insertion specialist, but compared to you? you look like you could manhandle him. König has to crane his head up to look at you - an odd feeling for him

Platonic:

König will come around to you with time, a teammate is a teammate, and trust has to be built. he does enjoy having someone to relate to - ducking under doorframes, having trouble finding clothes in your sizes, food— oh god, the amount of calories you need to eat to maintain a healthy weight? yeah, he’s happy he found someone that can understand

it’s also nice during training! König was already a considerably heavy lifter - people had trouble spotting him because, with his build, he could lift more than most of his fellow soldiers. now that you’re here? he has someone that can keep pace with him, someone that can comfortably spot and train with him. granted, you might be able to lift more than him, but he’ll still spot for you if he can

Romantic:

little spoon König… little spoon König! hold your man! König loves being able to comfortably little spoon - no awkward holds or worrying about being too big. when you’re 8’/~244cm and he’s 6’10”/~208cm? the size difference is… normal! compared to other couples, yeah, you’re just over a foot taller than him, that’s pretty average in his eyes! and, both of you being strong and built like bears, cuteness aggression and manhandling are on the table and he doesn’t have to worry about crushing you

you’re both rough, strong men - hard working and dedicated to your jobs. rough hands come with the territory, and König loves holding your hand. calloused, scratchy, rough? so are his from handling equipment! and hugs - König already gave out bear hugs to people, but with you? oh, get ready for a big squeeze. he expects you to hug him back just as hard. make his back pop, come on! he knows you can do it, Schatz

#konig #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig x reader #konig x male reader #könig x reader #könig x male reader #könig x you #könig headcanons #cod #cod thoughts #call of duty #hit post

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daughterofthequeen · 1 year ago

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Things Aren’t Always What They Seem and Sometimes They Are

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x padawan!reader

Summary: You’re Anakin’s padawan and after your master has a close call you develop nightmares of his death. Every time you close your eyes you see it, so you decided staying awake is the best way to keep your mind at ease and keep your master safe.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, platonic relationship, crying, nightmares, reader uses she/her pronouns, small mention of blood, reader has at least shoulder length hair, description of throwing up, description of death, light description of head being cut off, detailing insomnia, I made my own cw battle, I think that’s it let me know if I missed anything

A/N: I just needed this. Either Anakin can be used, but both Anakin’s are the same to me. Also readers nickname is stub btw due to her stubborn nature(gimme Ik). In this storyline Ahsoka is Kenobi’s padawan, but Anakin still uses Snips for Ahsoka since they’re still always around each other due to Ahsoka being readers best friend and Kenobi also always being around. This is also longer than I planned, sorry.

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

This is not happening. This is not happening! It’s impossible, he’s survived far worse than this, right? A building exploding with him still inside it was a piece of cake when it came to my master. So why isn’t he answering his comm, and why can’t I feel him?! His force signature is gone!

He’s dead.

That’s why I can’t feel him. Everything around me was basically nonexistent to me, all I could focus on was the rubble in front of me that had my master trapped. He couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t be, and I refuse to believe that he is. I wanted to go search for him, to help get him out of there because he needs me, but I couldn’t move and all I could hear was my heart beating loudly in my ears. Until a louder noise snapped me out of it.

“COMMANDER!!!” Rex yelled as he grasped me by my shoulders and was roughly shaking me, which snapped me out of my shock. “Commander the tank lifters are here to remove the debris.”

“Hurry, Rex.” After Rex leaves to go give the orders I turn back to the rubble as I tried to dig deeper into the force to try and sense my master’s force signature. I came up empty handed until I felt a pull towards the other side of the destroyed building. I followed it until I heard a voice. Dooku. I know that slimy voice from anywhere. I hurriedly hid behind a large rock, that I could tell used to be a wall, as I listened to Dooku’s conversation.

“And you’ve found nothing?” Dooku voiced to a battle droid.

“Nothing. We’ve looked everywhere.”

“Hmm” Dooku wasn’t so sure, Skywalker wasn’t easily terminated, how ironic it would be for him to be taken out by a simple explosion. He closed his eyes to focus on any life signature, but the only ones he found were weak and they were all similar in some way, confirming they were just feeble clones. And he was about to call this a success until he felt a stronger force signature, and it wasn’t under the rubble, definitely a Jedi. Dooku opened his eyes and looked to his right, looking straight at the stone you were hiding behind, but before he could act his holoprojector went off. “Yes master?”

“Return to your castle, I have more important matters for you to tend to.” A blue tented hooded figure spoke.“Now.” The hooded figure quickly added sensing the hesitation his apprentice gave off.

“Yes, master.” The holoprojector cut off and Dooku called for all the battle droids to fall back, and they left taking their victory. And their victory? The termination of Anakin Skywalker.

I quickly ducked behind the destroyed wall before Dooku could see me, even though I was certain he could feel me. But to my luck he was called away, I waited for the last separatist ship to fly away and that’s when I left my hiding spot. I started looking around the same area Dooku was to try to find any sign of my master, but there was none. A sickly feeling washed over me, I was close to letting the breakfast I had this morning back up, but was able to keep it down. Though I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling up with tears.

“Master?” I whispered fearfully, my voice not able to speak any louder without cracking.

“Master.” I said a little louder, as the tears started rolling over at this point.

“MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU??!!!” I finally screamed, the tears are now unstoppable and so were the sobs. The cries broke free. I was sobbing uncontrollably, and soon found that my legs were not able to hold my weight anymore as I dropped to my knees. The pain from the rubble that was made up of stone and metal went unnoticed. Bracing my hands against the ground to keep myself up and grounded as much as I could. I started pleading to the force to give Anakin a few more strings of luck, so he could make it out of this alive. So caught up in my own pain, I didn’t even hear the stones moving to my far left, let alone the foot steps.

After Anakin no longer felt Dooku’s presence and when he was sure he wasn’t coming back he used the force to move the destroyed stones that were surrounding him and some of his troops away from them. And they started climbing their way out from the rubble. After he made it out and helped some of his men out as well he looked around making sure there was no danger as he was catching his breath. When he looked to his right, he spotted his padawan. His padawan who‘s supposed to be on the other side of the explosion sight. What is she doing here?! Dooku and his droids could’ve seen her and he wouldn’t of been able to get out from under the rubble in time. It’s like she does the complete opposite of what he says, to stress him out on purpose. He sighed and started his walk over to his padawan, and when he did he seen and heard the predicament she was in. She was crying? Why is she crying? He wondered if she was injured. She was clutching her hands to her chest, which made him worry even more. He hurried to her side, and as he dropped down next to her, he grasped her shoulders, turning her towards him to look her over.

“What is it? Where are you hurt?” Anakin’s heart was racing at this point as he panicked. All he knew is he needed to help her, but his padawan on the other hand had a different reaction upon seeing him. Regardless of his efforts to get her up she wasn’t moving, and she heard nothing he was saying. All she could do was stare. Her master was alive? How? His force signature was gone and that only means one thing. Death. So how was it her master was kneeling in front of her trying to make sure she was okay? For the second time that day she had to be shook harshly to snap her out of her shock. But it still did no good to help her understand what was going on.

“(Y/n)! What’s wrong?” Silence.

“(Y/n), talk to me!”

“Master?” Was all that she could whisper out.

“Where are you hurt? I can’t help if you don’t tell me.

“You’re alive.”

“Wha-? Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The building- I mean you were still inside. Your signature was gone.” Having to explain what she thought happened only brought the tears back, unable to stomach the loss of her master, someone who’s like a father to her, and the closest she would get to having one. The thought of losing him was unbearable, and not to mention against the Jedi code. Attachment was forbidden, and she knew her attachment to Anakin was way more than it should be. She threw herself into him, much to Anakin’s shock. Her face buried in his neck, with her arms wrapped around it as well, as she let the rest of her tears out.

Anakin’s heart broke at the sound of her sobs, they sounded so broken. The original plan was to plant the bombs and get out of there which you were able to do successfully and get to the extraction point unscathed, but the separatists knew about their plan and next thing he knew hundreds of battle droids blocked them in. He was able to keep the ceiling from crushing him and his men around him, and was able to cloak his signature from Dooku. And that meant from everyone else as well, so he could see how that might have scared you. Wrapping his arms around his padawan, he made sure to keep a firm comforting grip, letting her know that he was here and not going anywhere. She cried harder at his promise, she could feel it, he was telling the truth.

𝟺 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝��𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛:

It’s been 4 months since the incident, 4 months since I believed my master was dead, 4 months since I’ve had a good nights rest. Ever since the Battle of Aravion I haven’t been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes my darkest fears come to life. So I do my best to stay awake as long as I can. Some would say that’s unhealthy or dangerous with me fighting in a war and all, but I’m doing fine . . . .mostly.

“Hellooo, Coruscant to Stubs.” I hear my master say as he comes into my line of sight, snapping his fingers in front of my face which I turns snaps me out of my daydream. “You with me?”

“Sorry, Master. What were you saying?” Shaking my head to clear and focus my thoughts.

“I said if you don’t focus you’re going to get stunned, and I’m sure you don’t want that to happen, right?”

“No, master. I’m sorry, master.”

“Sorry?” Anakin mumbled to himself, you never say sorry to anyone even when you are, unless it’s in front of the council or something, you show your apologies more so with actions, not words. And there’s usually a snappy comeback by now. What’s going on with you?

“It’s fine, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” I’ve might’ve said that a little too quickly. Oops.

“Stub, I know you. What’s wrong?” Anakin knows how to get me to crack. It’s just something about his soft voice that makes me feel like he could fix whatever’s going on with me. No matter how big or small. But not this time, my problems will go away on their own. I just hadn’t got the incident through my system is all. After all, part of becoming a Jedi is being able to let go of your personal feelings, and that’s not something that you can’t rely on people for, it’s a matter of you.

“There’s nothing wrong, I was just wondering when our next mission would be. We never stay here at the temple for very long. I guess I’m just a little anxious.”

“Yeah, I was like that too at the beginning of the war, but I just learned to relax whenever I’m given a peaceful moment. It keeps your head clear and it helps keep you balance.”

“I will try.” I took a deep breath as I turned away from my master and walked back to the where the 501 boys were waiting. I got into my starting position, lighting my lightsabers. I had to focus, that was the only way to get Anakin to believe me, so I had to last my usual time or he would know something was definitely up. I gave Rex a nod, letting him know that I was ready. He gave the signal, and for the next three minutes it was going well. Until I was hit in the back, then everything went dark.

BOOM!!!

I groan as I sit myself up. I must’ve been stunned about 5 or 6 times, my body isn’t usually this stiff after waking up due to growing a tolerance. But wait a minute. Stun shots don’t sound like explosions. I quickly stood up to scan my surroundings only to see I was in the middle of a battle field. I must’ve been hit with a blaster shot, but I didn’t feel any pain besides the stiffness. How did we get onto a battle field, we were just in a training room a few minutes ago.

BOOM!!!

I turned towards the front and could see nothing but fog. I lit my saber and started deflecting the blast that were coming my way. Maybe they couldn’t wait on me to wake up. What was the mission again? Wait. My master would never leave me behind, regardless of the mission, unless it was safer somehow. So where is he? I looked around again and heard a groan this time. I turned to my right to see a trooper. I quickly ran to help in any way I could.

“Trooper! Are you ok?!”

“I’m fine as I can be commander.” He groans.

“What battle is this? What was the mission?”

He coughs harshly. So harsh blood comes up. “The plan was to blow the factory. Groan. I suspect the others have made it there already.” He cuts himself off due to coughing more.

“Help will be here soon trooper stay awake.” I tried comforting him as I squeezed his hand. Trying to keep my emotions at bay.

“They knew we were coming. Gasp. We didn’t stand a chance. But you insisted we go on with the plan. General Skywalker agreed, trusting your judgment. Gasp. Half of us were wiped out. You walked us to our death.” All of a sudden the comms in his helmet we’re getting louder. I heard the screams of the troopers in pain. The yells of orders being thrown out by Rex. The explosion that seemed closer than it should’ve been in the comm, like it was right next to that poor trooper that was unlucky enough to get hit. I back down towards the trooper I was comforting only to see he was deadly still. And I knew he was. His eyes were staring straight up towards the sky. Like he embraced the call of death on his life. I heard the sobs and even looked around to see where they were coming from, but they were coming from me. I did this, all this was my fault. This was my mission, the troops were following my orders, I lead them to their deaths knowing it was a trap to begin with. I hurriedly stood up and started running forward. I moves as fast as I could until I could see the building and could hear the explosions more clear. I ran until I got to the front of the lines using my saber to block incoming blasts, and thankfully as always Rex was there.

“Rex!”

“Commander, you’re alright!”

“Yes. Where’s General Skywalker?!” I had to yell for him to be able to hear me over the sounds of battle.

“He went to set the bombs, he should be back by now.”

“I’ll go help!” But I was stopped, a hand gripping my arm.

“The bombs are about to detonate any second!”

“Anakin is still in there!”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t let you go in!” After that statement the building collapsed in a fiery blaze. We were far enough away to feel nothing but the strong wind the explosion put off.

“Rex, hurry and get the tank lifters here. I’m going to find Anakin.” And I took off regardless of Rex’s yells. I made it to the blast sight, but upon arrival Dooku and his mindless droids were there. I hid behind a large rock when I was struck with a hard case of deja vu. This has happened before, maybe the first time was just a vision. The force letting me know everything was going to be ok. I peaked around the corner seeing Dooku talking through a holoprojector to a cloaked figure. After their conversation ended, Dooku ordered all the droids to load up and evacuate. After he left I ran to where I was last time waiting for my master to unmask his signature. When he did I hurried to that area and helped with moving the debris that was around them. After getting him and the troops out safely I walked to my master to check and see if he was ok.

“Master, how are you feeling?” I was a lot calmer then last time, a little too calm. But he’s fine maybe for once things will actually go our way.

“I feel fine, but where were you stubs. We could’ve used your help.” He was out of breath, but still managed to be sarcastic. He was fine. I let out a light laugh.

“Come on master, let’s get you back to the transports so we can get you checked for any brain damage. Well, more than usual.” I smirk and turned to walk off, but felt he wasn’t following, so I turned only to see him standing really stiff.

“Master, what’s wrong?” I was so close to him. My hands were on his shoulders just in case he might fall. Suddenly, a red light pierced through my masters chest and would’ve passed through the top of my head if I hadn’t of moved just in time. Only to realize it wasn’t just a light, it was a lightsaber!

“NO!!!”

As my master dropped to the ground Dooku was standing right there over him. The color of his lightsaber reflecting on his wrinkled face. I paid him no attention though, I ran to my master hoping by some miracle he was still breathing. I lifted him up and moved myself behind him, so he could lean on me, hoping it would give him some kind of comfort. But maybe it was just to comfort myself.

“Master! Master, get up! Get up!” I was trying to pull him up, help him stand, so we could get out of here, but the only response my master gave was falling to the side, hitting the ground. “No! Master, get up. No, no, no, no. Let’s go. Please, let’s go.” Rows of heavy tears rolled down my closed eyes as I was sitting on my knees praying that this wouldn’t be true. I grabbed my masters ungloved hand, still warm though it has only been a couple minutes since it happened. It felt like hours. Dooku didn’t even have the courage to give my master a fighting chance. What coward stabs someone in the back, and calls it a honorable victory. Falling forward, I hugged my masters dead body as I sobbed so loud the stars could hear me across galaxies. My voice coming out in squeaks as I try to tell him how sorry I am, how sorry I was of failing him, how I didn’t see Dooku coming, hoping he would believe me, or at least hear me in the afterlife.

“Feeble child.” Hearing his voice only made me angry. I gripped my sabers and ignited them, quickly turning around striking Dooku down where he stood. And of course he was able to keep himself up, all he did was drop to his knees. But what I planned next no one could walk away from. I slowly stood, and walked towards him tauntingly, I wanted him to know what was coming. Before he could even attempt at grabbing his saber, I made sure to cut through his useless hands. I then lifted my sabers, crossing them at his neck as I looked him in the eyes, pulling my sabers apart. The body dropped and I watched as the severed ball rolled in the opposite direction. I looked down and seen a red lightsaber, but it wasn’t Dooku’s. I looked over to my other saber seeing that they were identical. The red I was seeing was coming from my lightsabers, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. And unbeknownst to me, my eyes reflected the damage I’ve done as well. A piercing yellow with red rimings, the eyes of a sith.

I gasped as I quickly sat up, looking around. I was able to slow my heart enough and calm my raging brain to notice I was in my room. How’d I get here? Was everything that just happened a dream? There’s was only one way to find out, find Anakin. Fearfully, I got up and walked out of my room, cautiously but quickly searching for my master, too riled and unfocused to use the force. I walked straight across the hallway to his quarters and knocked. It went unanswered, taking it upon myself to open the door, only to find he wasn’t there. Everything left untouched his messy bed from yesterday still in the same state it was, saying he’ll fix it later. I took off to the training room, still nothing. Then to the cafeteria. Nothing. At this point I was starting to worry. I didn’t want the grand masters to see me like this knowing they would sense my fear and unease, but this was Anakin, I’ll risk it. I went to the council room, also empty. This sickly feeling washed over me, and I ran to the closest bathroom. Passing Obi-Wan and Anakin padawan in the process.

“Stub?”

“I thought you said she was resting?” Obi-Wan crossed his arms at his former padawan’s ability to keep up with his own padawan.

“She was. Why is she up this late?” He mumbled, his confused frown deepening as well. Even if she was up, why was she running through the halls? Either her and Ahsoka were sneaking around in the pantries again or something was wrong. Without so much as a warning to Obi-Wan, Anakin took off to follow his padawan. He caught up to her only to see her burst into the women’s restroom.

“She had to use the bathroom.” Obi-Wan stated the obvious.

“Why not just use the one in her room? I think somethings wrong master. She’s been acting strange lately.”

“Anakin, your padawan is your responsibility. You should know why she’s been acting differently.” He scolds.

“I know that, Master. But-”

“But what?”

“She usually comes to me when she’s ready, so I don’t push it.”

“Anything could be going on with her Anakin, whether she wants to or not it’s your job to find out what’s causing her trouble.”

“That’ll just push her further away. I know Stubs, if I push to hard it’ll just delay the progress of her telling me. I know because I’m the same way.”

“You’ve never been that way with me.”

“That’s because I knew you years before I even became your padawan. Stubs and I are only a year in.”

“And you both are already so much alike that you would think the two of you share the same brain.” Anakin rolled his eyes at his masters comment and walked up to the women’s bathroom door, but when he did he could sense waves of fear going through you. He almost walked into the room, turning towards Obi-Wan seeing if he would stop him. It’s not like anyone else was in there, they only felt her.

“I’ll keep watch to make sure nobody else goes in. Go.” Anakin nods, closing his eyes as he walked into the bathroom just in case you were actually using it.

“Stub?” He calls out softly, his voice echoing throughout the walls. His only reply though was the sound of soft gagging. “Stubs?!” He called again this time his eyes are open as he ran and found the stall you were in. It wasn’t even locked. He found you on your knees, head above the toilet dry heaving into it, while also trying to catch your breath. He went to get some paper towels from the dispenser, wet them, then came back to keep your hair out of your face. Once he was sure you were done, he knelt down in front of you and turned you towards him, brushing your hair behind your ears to keep it out the way and started cleaning your face. He was worried, yes, but he knew you didn’t needed him playing 20 questions right now.

“Can you stand?” He spoked as softly as he could.

The whole time you didn’t know who was helping you, you barely noticed someone was there helping you at all. But when your eyes focused as you looked up, a small gasp came from you.

“Master.” A sense of deja vu washed over him.

“Are you able to get up?” He started to panic because tears started rolling over your cheeks. He was about to ask what was wrong but your body slamming into his stopped him, again. Confused? Way more than he was before. Worried? Even more so. Anakin maneuvered you so he was able to pick you up, and carry you out of the bathroom, simultaneously throwing away the paper towels. The door opened and he came face to face with Obi-Wan. Who only gave him a ‘take my advice’ kind of look. Receiving a tired sigh from Anakin.

“I know. I’ll see you tomorrow Master. Good night.” To which Kenobi responded back with a good night of his own.

He made his way back to your room as he constantly looked down at you to check and make sure you were ok. Your eyes were barley open, you looked exhausted, as your head laid in his chest. You should be, he wondered how long it was going to take you to break after not sleeping for months. He was hoping his heartbeat would’ve put you to sleep by now. He knew you thought you were keeping it a well kept secret. That’s the whole reason you both haven’t been on a mission yet, he asked the council to give the both of you a few days off, refusing to let you put yourself in anymore unnecessary danger. He was surprised the council agreed, chalking it up to Obi-Wan putting in a word for him. He could’ve just banned you from coming on missions until you told him what was wrong, but that would’ve just made you retreat and hide your restlessness better. This was the best choice. Making it to your room, the door slid open, and he gently laid you down on your bed. He was about to let you rest and get to the bottom of this in the morning, but your hand quickly grabbed his, keeping him from leaving.

“Don’t go.” You whimpered, breaking his heart of what felt like the thousandth time that night. He complied and released a heavy sigh.

“You have to tell me what’s going on with you Stubs. I’ve given you enough time to figure this all out and tell me what’s going on, but this has gone to far.” He kept his voice low to let her know he wasn’t upset with her just worried. You sat up regardless of him trying to lay you back down but true to your nickname, you’re just stubborn. He stayed where he was kneeling in front of you, letting you have the height of the conversation, physically and metaphorically.

I couldn’t look him in the eye knowing that I would start crying again.

“I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” Trying to play it off as nothing.

“Yeah. One among the many for the past few months, right?” That caused me to lift my head involuntarily. How did he know?

“How-“

“Look Stubs, I understand what it’s like to have constant nightmares, ok? I just don’t understand why you won’t tell me about them.” He chuckled, an unamused one with a confused frown on his face.

Looking back down towards my bare feet, trying to keep the tears at bay. But failing at that too, a breathless sob breaks out.

“I just- I just don’t understand why they keep coming back! I mean I’m starting to think-” I cut myself off not wanting to speak into existence. Instead, I shoved my face into my hands. I’m not sure I can keep going with these nightmares, they keep getting worse.

“You’re starting to the think they’re visions.” To which I nodded to. “Are they the same dream or is it a different one every time?”

“It’s a different one ever time, but they always have the same outcome. You said you’ve had nightmares before. How did you stop them?

“Tell you what, if I tell you about my dreams, will you feel comfortable enough to tell me about yours?” Anakin didn’t like sharing his past with anybody, but for the sake of getting his padawan to trust him completely, he would do anything. You gave him a nod, to which he nodded back.

“It wasn’t that long ago actually. It was around the very beginning of the clone wars. They were about my mother.”

“Master-“

“And how she died. I didn’t understand it at the time, but they weren’t nightmares. They were visions.”

“I’m sorry, master.”

“I’m not telling you this so you could feel sorry for me. I told you so you would understand when things like this happen you should talk about it to someone not hold it in, because one day you might be able to save a life.”

“But if it is a vision. . .I fail.”

“Not all visions are set in stone. And they can be almost impossible to understand by yourself.” As he explains he reaches out to gently grab her hands giving them a gentle squeeze.

“They’re about you.” Going back to looking down at my feet.

“What about me?”

“You die. And I’m always to slow to save you.” Looking up to see his expression, he doesn’t look scared if anything he looks amused. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask confused.

“Is it ok if I see it?”

“How can you do that?”

“Easy. Hold still.” After he says that his hands move to the side of my head, our eyes closed , and our foreheads laying on one another’s as he searches for the memories. When he finds them they suck him in deep, so deep he has to take a deep breath to keep himself grounded. Your fear, your pain, your anger. But right before he pulled away, he was able to see where they all started. Guilt flooded through him. He didn’t realize how much he scared you. He pulled away and moved to sit next to you on the bed. He paused for a moment trying to figure out the best way to reassure you.

“Listen, Stubs. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m sorry I frightened you. Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I was afraid. Everything I was feeling, everything I am feeling is forbidden for a Jedi to feel. And I didn’t want you to look at me any different.” I replied, looking the opposite way shamefully.

“Stub. I am the last person to judge you. I have your back, just like I’m sure you have mine. Whatever I can do to help you, I will do. But I can promise you, I’m not going anywhere. And you don’t have to be scared of that happening anytime soon, or at all for that matter. Understand?”

“Yes, master.” Not giving him time to reply. I threw myself into his side, wrapping my arms tightly around him. He returned the gesture, pulling me into him even more.

“Bed time.” He pulled away, lightly pushing me to lay down, and pulled the blanket over me.

“Master? When’s our next mission?”

“We don’t have any, and we won’t until you’re well rested.”

“Huh?”

“Oh yeah, you don’t know. We won’t be completing any assignments for a while. I requested to take some time off, due to my padawan deciding it’s ok to go into battles with little to no sleep.” He smirked knowingly.

“You knew.”

“Of course I did. Now get some sleep, please.” He replied as he turned to leave.

“Master?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

His playful smirked turned into a soft smile. “Good night, Stubs.”

“Good night, master.” I responded as I laid down already half asleep, ready to catch up on all the months that were missed.

A/N: The longest fic I’ve completed, but it had to be done🫡. Proofread, just let me know if I missed an error, I hope you guys enjooyyy.

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