#until i finally drew them myself

[acidsaladd]

finally releasing these doodles from the void that is my camera roll

[id: four images with digital drawings of winry, ed and al from fullmetal alchemist. The first image is a couple colored drawings of winry. On the left we see her standing, full body, looking to the right; she is wearing a black tank top, big bermuda shorts, brown boots and a green bandana on her hair. She is holding a black long suitcase on one hand and the other is in her pocket. Next theres a drawing of her waist up wearing a similar black tank top and green bandana, thick copper gloves and green coveralls with the sleeves tied on her waist; she is facing the viewer full on with one hand on her hip and the other holding a metal box to her hip.

The second image is a close up of the full body drawing from the thighs up. In the third image we can see two drawings of ed; in the first he is sitting with his arms on the backrest, right leg propped on the other. He is wearing a black tank top and his leather pants so his automail is in full display. Next to that we see a 3/4 headshot of ed looking shocked. Above them there is a couple drawings of his automail arm. In the fourth image we can see 4 headshots. the first couple is of Al and Ed when they were kids, both facing the viewer but Al is smiling and looking forwards while Ed is frowning and looking to the side. Below that we can see Al and Ed again but older (post-promised day) with both of them again facing the viewer; Al is smiling, his hair short and messy and Ed has his brows furrowed but he's grinning crookedly./ end id]

[rat-rosemary]

Me and my wish for the mcyt communities to get along vs the Dteam fandom anxieties that lead us to being aggressive vs the truth that other fandoms really are hostile towards us

[neo-shitty]

✍️.

[snekdood]

bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Guilty as sin ✦ 」

[Theodore Nott × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary:(Request) Theo x f!reader where she is a huuuuuge flirt. Flirts with the whole slytherin gang, the golden trio, literally everyone EXCEPT Theo and it doesn’t bother him until his friends start teasing him about it and then it drives him CRAZY. So he tracks her down and she’s all blushy like “idk how to flirt with someone I actually like??” And then smut ensues

Warning: smut

Words:3.5k

Laughter echoed through the empty corridor – a welcome reprieve from the usual bustle of Hogwarts life. We were on a glorious post-lunch break, a rare moment where none of us had classes.

Draco, ever the stoic one, smirked from the corner, a hint of amusement flickering in his grey eyes. Blaise, reclining against the wall along with mattheo and Enzo .

“So, what’s got you all so chipper today?” I asked, leaning against the wall opposite them, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, just the usual,” Mattheo replied with a grin, his eyes scanning me up and down. “Though your presence certainly brightens things up.”

I laughed, a playful glint in my eye. “Is that so, Mattheo? I’m flattered.”

“Flattered, are you?” Enzo chimed in, his smile broadening. “Just wait till you hear what Draco’s been saying about you.”

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile playing at his lips. “Don’t drag me into this, Enzo.”

I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what exactly has Draco been saying?”

Draco finally looked directly at me, his smirk deepening. “Nothing that wouldn’t make you blush, I’m sure.”

Suddenly, the air shimmered and Theo materialized beside me, a frown etched on his handsome face. My laughter died in my throat, replaced by a nervous flutter in my stomach.

Don't get me wrong, Theo was so attractive. Tall, dark, and mysterious, he exuded an aura that drew you in like a moth to a flame. That’s why I always act that awkward whenever he show up.

"Hey, Y/L/N," Theo greeted me, his voice a low rumble. "Having fun?"

But before I could respond, a mischievous glint sparked in Blaise's eyes. "Having fun? She's practically rolling on the floor here! Just look at her," he nudged me with his elbow, "completely smitten with my hilarious story."

My cheeks burned. "Oh, shut up, Zabini," I swatted him playfully. "It was Enzo's joke that was funny, not yours."

Enzo chuckled. "Thanks, Y/N."

We all fell into a comfortable banter again, the conversation flowing like a well-worn path. But with every witty remark aimed at me, every playful touch from Blaise or Enzo, I found myself subtly shifting away from Theo. It wasn't intentional, not really. Maybe a subconscious defense mechanism, a way to keep myself safe from the intensity I sensed in him.

Finally, unable to handle the mounting tension any longer, I blurted, "Oh, well, this has been lovely, but I actually have to…" My voice trailed off, searching for a believable excuse.

"Potions homework?" Blaise offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, yes," I stammered, "Look at the time! I completely forgot, I have to—"

"Go?" Mattheo finished my sentence with a playful grin, his eyes flickering between me and Theo. "That seems to be your usual line whenever Nott graces us with his presence."

A collective laugh went up from the others, but a blush crept up my cheeks. Was it that obvious?

"See, Theo? That's just how Y/N is. Always gotta disappear when you show up."

Behind me, I could hear the eruption of laughter. Draco's voice rang out, “See ? Always leaving when you appear Nott, gets the charm offensive."

I winced, a mixture of guilt washing over me, I grabbed my bag and walked away.

As I walked to the class the next day my stomach lurched, I scanned the room. Every single seat was taken except for one – the one directly next to Theo. A wave of annoyance washed over me. Why did I have to be the one stuck beside him after yesterday's awkward retreat?

With a resigned sigh, I marched towards the empty chair, determined to keep our interaction to a minimum. Just as I sat down, the classroom door slammed open, and Professor Snape strode in with his usual scowl.

"Settle down!" his baritone voice boomed. "Since we're already behind, we'll be starting immediately. Take out your textbooks and quills, we're brewing Veritaserum today."

My shoulders slumped. Of course, today would be the day Snape insisted on absolute honesty. Great.

I grabbed my textbook with a muttered curse, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating from beside me. Theo. He was practically close enough to see the worried frown etched on my forehead.

"Rough day, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine despite myself.

I kept my eyes glued to my textbook, pretending to be engrossed in the complicated brewing instructions. "Just fine," I mumbled, my voice a touch too high-pitched.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

My cheeks burned. Did he have to be so perceptive? "No," I lied unconvincingly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Then why the avoidance act?" he pressed.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I couldn't take it anymore. Taking a deep breath, I finally looked at him, ready to fire back with a witty retort.

But as our eyes met, something unexpected happened. All the bravado I had practiced in my head evaporated. His gaze held a depth I hadn't noticed before, a hint of something… more.

The stern voice of Professor Snape cut through the sudden tension. "Miss Y/N, Mr. Nott! Pay attention or face detention."

Flustered, I tore my gaze away from Theo.

The moment Professor Snape dismissed the class, I bolted. My cheeks still burned from Theo's teasing, his words replaying in my head like a broken record. "Do I make you nervous?" Ugh, the audacity!

Heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, I weaved through the throng of students, desperate to escape the classroom and the lingering scent of Theo's cologne.

As I rounded a corner, I slammed right into someone, the impact knocking the breath out of me. I stumbled back, muttering an apology.

"Easy there, love. Running from someone?"

My cheeks burned like someone had set them on fire with a dragon's breath. "No, no, of course not," I stammered, my voice tripping over itself. "Just... eager to get to my next class."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his grey eyes. "Really? Because you look like you just escaped a dragon attack in those robes."

"I-I really have to go," I mumbled again, yanking my arm free from Matteo's grasp.

Before he could say another word, I bolted. I sprinted down the hallway, robes billowing behind me, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me, Theo.

The thoughts I harbored about Theo, well, they were borderline scandalous – even for the often-unconventional wizarding world. Wet dreams were a daily torment, a vivid tapestry woven with stolen glances and the memory of his low chuckle. Even the most mundane tasks became infused with Theo. Daydreams, unwelcome and potent, hijacked my mind, filling it with images of his strong arms wrapped around me, the feel of his warm skin against mine, and those lips... oh Merlin, his lips. The very thought of them sent a jolt through me, leaving me breathless and yearning.

It was a full-blown obsession. Every interaction, every stolen glance, was a spark that ignited a wildfire within me. I envisioned stolen touches, whispered secrets, a clandestine world where it was just us. These "visions," as I'd begun calling them, were both exhilarating and terrifying. Had I lost my mind?

Looking at him was like staring into the sun – an act both beautiful and blinding. I craved his attention, yet recoiled from it in equal measure, afraid of what it might reveal – both about him and the depth of my own desires.

The moment I reached the solitude of my dorm room, I threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in the soft pillow. It was just me and the storm raging within. Seeking a semblance of control, I reached for my most trusted companion – my sketchbook. Flipping to a blank page, I did what had become a nightly ritual: I drew Theo.

His face materialized on the page with practiced ease – the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his eyebrows quirked slightly when he was amused, the intensity of his gaze that seemed to pierce right through me. Each stroke was infused with a longing so deep it ached. As I added the final details, a desperate thought crossed my mind – what if, somehow, magically, drawing him like this would bring him closer? A ridiculous notion, even for a witch like me. But a girl can dream, right?

The drawing complete, I flipped back through the pages, revisiting the countless iterations of Theo that filled my sketchbook. Each one a silent testament to my growing obsession. A pang of guilt stabbed at me as I traced the outline of his lips in one particular sketch. Here I was, feeling like I'd committed a sin, when in reality, our interactions hadn't even reached the stage of a stolen touch.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips. This was madness. Yet, as I drifted off to sleep that night, the sketchbook remained tucked under my pillow, a silent guardian of my unrequited affection.

The next day, the weight of my secret world pressed down on me like a lead blanket.

My usual bubbly demeanor was replaced by a forced smile and a dull ache in my chest. The boys exchanged worried glances, their questions a constant reminder of the truth I couldn't share.

Mumbling an unconvincing excuse about feeling unwell, I escaped the classroom the moment the bell rang, desperate for some fresh air and a moment of solitude.

Once I was finally away from everyone I grabbed my bag, then it happened, panic clawed at my throat as I realized my sketchbook was missing.

I scoured my bag again, desperately searching every compartment, but it was nowhere to be found. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I carried that sketchbook everywhere, afraid of someone stumbling upon my secret world.

Fear morphed into a cold dread as I retraced my steps, hoping it had simply fallen out of my bag somewhere.

The thought of someone, anyone, seeing my drawings, especially Theo… the very notion sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through me.

I retraced my steps, combing through the classroom once more, a desperate hope clinging to the edges of my despair. But it was futile. The sketchbook was nowhere to be found. My mind raced, picturing prying eyes and whispered secrets. This was a disaster.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the rising tide of panic. "Searching for something, Y/L/N?"

I spun around so fast I nearly toppled over, my eyes widening as they landed on Theo. A self-assured smirk played on his lips, and in his hand, he dangled my precious sketchbook.

"Theo!" I gasped, the sound strangled and desperate. My cheeks burned with a mixture of mortification and a strange, exhilarating thrill.

Instead of listening to my frantic plea, he held the sketchbook just out of reach, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "Such beautiful secrets you keep hidden, Love."

The blood drained from my face. "Give it back to me, Theodore," I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands.

He chuckled, a low, beautiful sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Not so fast, love. Perhaps there's something in here that warrants a little… negotiation."

Frustration bubbled up inside me. I lunged for the sketchbook, my fingers brushing against his hand. But he easily outmatched me, holding it high above my head. The height difference was agonizing.

"Give it back!" I hissed, my voice laced with desperation.

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn't decipher. Then, before I could react, his other hand shot out, landing firmly on my waist.

A gasp escaped my lips as a jolt of electricity shot through me at his touch. He used the momentum to pull me closer, turning us around so that my back slammed against the cool surface of the empty classroom door my eyes widened when he locked it. My breath hitched in my throat as his warm body pressed against mine.

His face was inches from mine, his breath tickling my ear. "Now," he murmured, his voice a husky rumble that sent a delicious shiver down my spine, "Care to explain what is it about?”

"No "I say "Just give it back!"

Instead of replying, he pulled away, placing the sketchbook on a nearby table with a soft thud. I made a move to grab it, but he was faster. With a single, smooth motion, he used one hand to capture both of mine, pinning them above my head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the door.

His touch sent a jolt through me, a current that both terrified and excited me. His gaze was intense, boring into mine, and suddenly his earlier amusement was replaced by something else entirely.

"So," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

"you just decided to ignore my entire existence? The social butterfly with all her friends, suddenly giving me the cold shoulder or vanishing into thin air whenever I'm around. Then I find out you've been drawing me… like a hundred times? Which by the way I'm not complaining about but— ," he added, "but seriously, Y/N, what have I done that you can't bear to stay in the same room with me for a minute?"

His words hit me like a physical blow. Shame burned through me, hot and fierce. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely a choked sob, my eyes desperately seeking the floor.

"Look at me, love," he commanded, a gentle firmness in his voice.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his. His face was unreadable, a mixture of concern and something else – something that made my heart skip a beat.

"Good girl," he murmured, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Now, say it. What have I done to make you hate me that much?"

"It's the opposite," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, fueled by a desperate need for him to understand. "I like you, Theo. A lot. Those feelings… they're so intense, so confusing, and I just don't know how to act around you. I see you and I freak out. I can't breathe, my heart races and then those unholy thoes…" My voice cracked, and tears welled up in my eyes.

He leaned closer, his hand brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice gentle, his touch sending sparks dancing across my skin. "Breathe."

I did, taking a shaky breath, closing my eyes as his face came closer. His touch was everywhere – on my cheek, my neck, his warm breath against my lips. "Are you mad?" I whispered, barely audible.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Quite the opposite," he murmured, his lips brushing mine with a feather-light touch. Then, in one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both electrifying and grounding.

His hands gripped my hips, lifting me off the floor effortlessly. I gasped as I looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire burning within them. "You smell so good," he murmured, his lips finding my neck. His stubble tickled my sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You know those thoughts you talked about," he continued, placing soft kisses along my jawline. "I have similar thoughts too."

I moaned as he sucked on my earlobe, my head falling back to give him more access. His lips moved down to my neck, his tongue tracing a path along my collarbone.

His hands tightened on my hips, and I could feel his erection pressing against me. I couldn't help but grind against him, feeling his length rub against my clit through our clothes.

"I want to leave marks on your skin, so everyone knows you're mine," Theo growled, his lips moving down to my neck. His tongue traced a path along my collarbone, and I shivered with delight.

"Yours?" I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, baby. Mine. And those fuckers need to know this," he said, I couldn't help but smile. I knew they had been teasing him for how I had been ignoring him.

His lips traced a path along my collarbone, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I shivered with delight as his hand gripped my hair, pulling me to him he looked at my eyes for a second then kissed me. His lips were soft and eager, and I couldn't help but respond.

He turned me around his head on my shoulder "Tell me your deepest fantasy. I'll make it a reality for you,"

His hands went inside my skirt, and I felt his fingers on my thighs. "Can I touch you?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, my breath hitching in my throat.

“ oh Merlin “ I say my whole body shaking his finger rubbing circles on my clit fast then slow making me losing my mind

“ not Merlin baby me say my name, do i make you feel good ? “ he say in my ear

“ yes Theo oh yes you do “ I say my body still shaking .

"Do you want me to be rough with you, or gentle?" He asked, his finger sliding inside me. I gasped, holding onto his arms for support.

"No one has touched you like this before, baby?" He asked. I shook my head, unable to trust myself to respond without screaming.

"Good, and no one else will," He said, his fingers moving inside me. I felt myself getting closer to the edge, my whole body tensing up.

"I love how you arch your back when I do this. You're so responsive," He said, his fingers moving faster inside me. I screamed, my whole body shaking with pleasure.

He put his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries "Shhh” He said, his voice soothing.

I felt it happening. My whole body shook, and if not for his strong arm around me, I would have fallen. I screamed with his hand still on my mouth. I came for the first time in my life, and oh lord, it felt like heaven.

"You did so good for me, baby. So good."

Put his fingers in his mouth, savoring my taste. "I love the way you taste, the way you smell. You're like a drug to me,".

He picked me up, setting me on the desk. pushed the books and papers aside, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he pulled me to the edge of the desk, his hands on my thighs.

"Is this like your fantasies?".

"No," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "It’s much better."

His lips were on my inner thighs in an instant, his tongue tracing a path up to my panties. He pulled them down, his fingers grazing my skin. My breath came in short gasps.

"Do you want me to use my fingers or my tongue? Or maybe both?"

His tongue found my clit, and I moaned as he licked and sucked, his fingers exploring my wet folds. I grabbed onto the edge of the desk, my legs shaking.

Theo pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. He reached for a pen on the desk, pulling it towards him. wrote "mine" on my inner thigh, his eyes locked on mine.

His fingers slid back inside me. I moaned again, my hips bucking against his hand.

His tongue found my clit once again , and I moaned louder this time. He sucked and licked, his fingers moving inside me in a steady rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building for the second time.

"Oh, Theo," I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.

He moved his fingers faster, his tongue lashing against my clit. I cried out as my orgasm crashed over me again.

He pulled away, making his way up to kiss me. I was shaking in his arms, but he wrapped them around me, making me feel safe and comfortable.

As I trembled in his arms, He held me close, his embrace warm and comforting. He gently brushed my hair away from my face, kissing my forehead tenderly.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice full of admiration and love.

I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The intensity of the moment began to fade, replaced by a soft, soothing calm. Theo's hands traced gentle circles on my back, his touch reassuring and tender.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.

I nodded, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "I'm more than okay. Thank you."

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Theo, I need to tell you something,” I said, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

He looked at me with those deep, caring eyes, waiting patiently.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I don’t mean to scare you with it now, but I’ve been holding it to myself for too long and I wanted you to know.”

A smile spread across his face, and he leaned in to kiss me softly, his lips curing my words. “You don’t have to anymore,” he said, his voice a soothing balm to my fears. He looked into my eyes, his expression sincere. “I love you, and I will prove it to you every single day.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, not of sadness, but of overwhelming relief and happiness. “Promise you won’t hurt me?” I asked, my voice small and vulnerable.

“Never, baby,” he said, pulling me closer. “I promise. I will never hurt you. I’ll always be here for you.”

I buried my face in his chest, letting his warmth and words envelop me, my gaze wandered to the ink on my thigh. The word "mine" stood out boldly, a possessive claim that made me giggle despite the seriousness of everything that had just happened.

Theo noticed and raised an eyebrow. "What’s so funny?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

I pointed to the makeshift tattoo. “This. ‘Mine.’ You really went all out, didn’t you?”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You bet I did. I had to make sure those fuckers know you’re off limits from now on.”

I laughed, “Oh, I’m sure they’ll get the message loud and clear.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[zeeislewd]

Your partner catches you staring again, their lips turning down into a slight frown. They sigh, crossing their arms in a way that lets them rest their forearms on their gravid belly.

"What? Never considered I have to grow all those eggs I put in you?" They said, running a hand down their belly, all the way underneath to help support the weight. Then they noticed the way you had been staring, and not just that you had been staring and the frown started to fade, a little glint showing in their eye. They stepped forward, moving awkwardly with all the weight they carried with them. "I've never let myself grow this many before, you know? I've never let it build up for more than a week, no more than I could hide with some baggier clothes." They spoke, their voice lowering to a purr as they drew nearer to where you lay, crawling into the bed atop you, straddling you.

"I've never had someone to put these in before." There's a hunger in their voice now as you see their ovipositor begin to creep into view, brushing against your bare thigh, sliding up towards your wet cunt. Their other tentacles pull your legs apart, giving themself full access to you. They reach their hands out to yours, guiding you to hold the weight of their gravid belly, letting you feel how taut it's become with nearly a month's worth of eggs weighing them down.

"Now all they need is their mother's nice, warm womb to incubate... There's not enough space in me for them to keep growing." They say, their ovipositor starting to press itself into your waiting slit, squirming and slithering upwards as deep as it can go. You feel the familiar push against your cervix, against that place nothing should be able to reach. It doesn't even hurt now, when they push inside of your womb to claim you; it's so familiar, and you did always have a little bit of a masochistic streak, didn't you?

The eggs start to push into you, the size of tennis balls, nearly getting stuck before even entering inside; it was lucky they had a little bit of squish to them, otherwise they'd probably tear you apart just trying to fit one. The first egg always comes alone, helping prepare you, open you up to its siblings coming shortly after. Then you start feeling the intervals between eggs shorten... Maybe ten seconds at first, then five, then barely two, then they feel like a nonstop flow of eggs, of their eggs filling you.

With your hands on their belly you can feel them start to shrink back down as they turn you into their incubator once more. You can feel the shifting of the multitude inside them as each egg starts to enter their ovipositor, then into you.You can feel the weight transfer into you. They were right; they always grew larger inside you before they properly hatched, and your frame was so much smaller than theirs you were already nearly immobilized by the shear weight of their eggs. They were only a little over halfway done.

It felt like you were trapped there beneath them for minutes on end receiving their eggs. Blissful minutes, wracked with orgasm after orgasm until your mind slipped away and the only concept of time that existed was right now. Right now, being filled, being theirs. You hardly noticed when the eggs finally stopped coming, when their belly was flat and yours was so large you couldn't see the tentacles holding you past your bump. The blissful haze was so strong you could hardly form words, but they seemed to understand what you needed nonetheless, leaning down to slip their arms around you, having to settle for draping an arm over your belly for now instead.

They smiled softly at you, leaning in ever so close until you could feel the heat of their breath against your ear, and whispered.

"What a good little incubator you are."

[upsidedownwithsteve]

[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as we’re v tired and v sick and writing doesn’t sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.

Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didn’t add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. “We can stop, if you want.” His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. “It’s okay.”

But you’d asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steve’s bed sheets ‘cause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend you’d never had an orgasm?

“What?” He’d asked, face soft with shock. “What about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?”

“Lewis,” you’d corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. “And no, he just couldn’t get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. It’s gotta be me, I can’t even make it happen myself.”

Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes ‘cause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment you’d felt in admitting such a thing.

“It’s not you,” he’d said, determined. “He should’ve taken his time with you or— or, found out what you liked.”

You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. “How’s that fair when I don’t even know what I like myself?”

You don’t know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steve’s blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.

You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boy’s cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.

You sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m just— being stupid. We can keep going.”

You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch you’d felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasn’t him, when he’d argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.

“Are you sure?” Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. “And you’re not stupid. This, the way you feel. It’s not stupid, okay?”

You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. He’d once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and he’d proven it true ever since.

“Yeah, m’sure.” You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. “Thanks, Steve.”

A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. ‘Cause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when you’d bent your knees and sat between Steve’s legs. He’d patted the space there and your body had burned, but you’d obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.

“So you’ve never, ever—?”

“No,” you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. “Can't even manage it myself… it’s— fuck, I don’t know.” You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. “S’okay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?”

He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess. It’s just— I either get interrupted or it doesn’t feel right and then the times when it does, I just can’t… can’t. You know.”

“Finish?” Steve supplied helpfully.

You nodded again.

“Okay, uh, why don’t you— do you wanna, try? Show me?” You heard him swallow audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.

You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old who’d picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. “Do you trust me?”

You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I trust you.” You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, ‘cause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.

“We can stop whenever you want, alright?” Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. “Show me.” Steve whispered again. “Show me what you do.”

It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steve’s and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.

Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didn’t come across as reprimanding as it should’ve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.

“You normally just dive right in like that?” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. “Christ, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.”

“I do?”

Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasn’t unkind, it didn’t make you shrink like you thought it would’ve. “Well, yeah,” Steve answered. “You gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasn’t anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?”

“Putty?” Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You know, all gooey n’shit. Nice. Relaxed.” Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. “You’re real cute, babe, someone’s gotta treat you the same way.”

“No,” you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, ‘cause Steve’s hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. “You think I’m cute?”

You weren’t sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.

“You kiddin’?” Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. “You’re the cutest girl in town, d’you not know that?”

You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.

“Now, if you’re the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,” he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. “Don’t you think you gotta be nice to yourself?”

Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.

“I don’t think I know how.” It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldn’t see.

His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. “Like this,” the boy whispered. “See? Nice and sweet. Slow.”

You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steve’s rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. “Ah, ah, c’mon. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”

There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didn’t dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.

“C’mon, you got this.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. “Relax, remember?”

So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steve’s short nails.

“What d’you think about?” He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you weren’t supposed to tell anyone else about. “When you touch yourself? What d’you think about?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.

“I dunno,” your voice didn’t sound like your own. “Someone else, I guess. Someone’s fingers, instead of my own. Being— being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.”

If Steve’s hips twitched up into your own, you were sure you’d imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.

“S’good,” he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. “What about their mouth, huh? Where d’you want it?”

You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didn’t answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.

“Here?” The boy suggested. He wasn’t really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. “Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.

“That’s a real shame, you know that?” Steve’s hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.

It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.

“It is?” You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.

“Fuck, yeah it’s a shame, babe.” Steve whispered. “Told you, didn’t I? You’re the sweetest girl there is. And someone’s not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?” Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. “That’s just unfair.”

“Steve.” You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.

But Steve seemed to know, ‘cause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. “Yeah?” He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. “Ready for more? Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.

Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldn’t be close enough.

“Want these off?” You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can do whatever—”

You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steve’s thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steve’s bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.

Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one you’d stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.

“What next?” You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than you’d ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. “Should I just—?”

Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone ‘cause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. “Fuck,” his voice cracked. “Just, uh, do what feels good, yeah?”

You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.

“Hey, hey, s’alright,” Steve assured you, whispering again. “Give me your hand.”

You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steve’s fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boy’s - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.

“Yeah?” Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. “That good?”

You could barely speak. “Yeah,” you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.

“Atta’ girl, keep doin’ that, okay?”

You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steve’s fingers slip between your own. Steve’s free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you weren’t sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.

“D’you use your fingers?” Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. “Inside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?”

Twenty minutes ago, you would’ve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steve’s cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.

“Not really,” you whispered to him, ‘cause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. “Don’t feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.”

Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, ‘cause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. “Poor girl,” he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. “Shh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?”

You didn’t get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.

Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldn’t be misconstrued as a kiss.

You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.

“Steve,” you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. You’d have normally given up by now. “Steve, s’not working.”

“Gotta be patient, babe,” Steve assured you, “gotta be nice to yourself, c’mon, don’t let your head take over.”

But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where you’d chewed at them, eyes all glassy.

He shouldn’t have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?

Right?

“Want me to help?”

He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. “You gotta tell me, please?”

“Please, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.”

He’d died. He was dead.

But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where they’d been inside of yourself and Steve wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.

He was rock fucking hard.

“Ready?” He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didn’t dare ask you to speak again. “Okay, I’ve got you, alright?”

His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boy’s finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that you’d never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.

“More?” Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop and Steve wanted to tell you he’d never stop if you didn’t want him to, that he’d do this every fucking day if you’d let him. “Another?”

“Another,” you agreed and god, you weren’t holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.

Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.

“Touch yourself, babe,” he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. “That’s it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.”

You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasn’t a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. “You do, don’t you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”

Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.

“Would you let me do that? Huh?” Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. “Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. “Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look—”

You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that he’d think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.

Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to know—

“You comin’, babe? Yeah?” You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. “Fucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it—”

He wasn’t even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.

Your eyes finally met Steve’s when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.

“Holy fucking shit,” you managed on a gasp.

“Told you,” he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.

“What?” You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. “Told me what?”

Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.

“Sweetest girl in this fucking town,” he said.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Show Me

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Cockwarming, Overstimulation, Oral, Throat Fucking, Handcuffs

part 2

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

The music in the club is blaring so loud you can’t hear your own thoughts. My hips swayed to the music as I felt an arm snake around my waist. Turning around I see the man that I’ve been entertaining the whole night, Lewis.

“Finally, I was starting to think you bailed on me” I chuckled as I gratefully took the alcoholic beverage he brought me “Thank you Lewis” I smile as I take a sip of the drink

“And leave you here alone with these pervs?” Lewis chuckled before placing his once preoccupied hand on my hips “You wouldn’t catch me dead leaving you here alone” the one free hand I had reaching up to snake around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

The eye contact we held said all the other needed to know “I can see it in your eyes, you want a good time” Lewis said just loud enough above the music for me to hear but not anyone else, leaning closer to me, his lips almost touching mine “You wanna put your body on mine. Alright but don't change your mind, don’t you change it”

The gap between us is so dangerously small that I can smell the alcohol on his breath and it’s intoxicating me in the best way possible. I can see Lewis’ gaze flicker between my eyes and my lips “Your eyes saying please me but your lips care to ask”

I want to kiss him so bad. I don’t know if it’s the look in his eyes, the words coming out of his mouth, how plump his lips look or the alcohol in my system.

“No need to fight it when you know it feels right. You say you're a woman who knows what she likes” The hand he had resting on my hip moved up to the back of my neck pulling me closer to him but only to kiss the corner of my mouth. He then starts to leave some kisses on my jaw before whispering in my ear “Then show me”

———————————————————————

“C’mon baby, I know you can take it. Don’t give up on me just yet,” I couldn’t think, Lewis had just pulled my second orgasm out of me tonight and my thighs haven’t stopped shaking since the first one. “my baby, I haven’t even tasted you yet, I’ve just made you cum twice with my fingers.”

I didn’t think it was possible to shake this much from only having two orgasms from someone’s hands alone but Lewis always made it a mission to prove me wrong.

“You look so pretty right now, look s’good for me just sprawled out. I need a taste” a mixture of incoherent words and moans spills from my lips as I know that Lewis isn’t gonna stop until he pulls at least two more orgasms from me with just his tongue alone.

The way Lewis trails kisses down my neck to my core was heavenly, I didn’t have time to prepare myself as I watched him lower himself between my legs before I felt his mouth attack my clit. A gasp escapes my lips as jolt forward and my thighs instinctively close around his head.

Instead of prying my legs open, Lewis used both his arms and wrapped them around my legs that we’re currently trapping him to ensure he couldn’t stop, not that he wanted to, before absolutely going to town eating me out.

He drew long strides of his tongue all the way up and down my slit before sucking on my clit, I’m pretty sure a few times I felt his tongue enter me which caused my hands to find their place in his hair, pushing him further down causing him to let out a deep groan, which was all it took before my thighs that were already trapping him to squeeze as my third orgasm overtook my body.

Lewis lapped my juices before he loosens his grip on my legs, looking up at me with dark, lust filled eyes and a glistening chin as he crawled his way up to me placing a chaste kiss to my lips allowing me to taste myself on him. Without breaking the kiss, Lewis starts to take off his sweatpants and boxers.

"Lew, please I can't do no more right now" I mumble, breaking the kiss.

"Shh, its okay. I'll take care of you, j's need you to sit on my cock okay? Can you do that for me or do you really want to stop?" just when I thought I couldn't fall more in love with Lewis, he pulls this card.

I press my lips to his in a kiss of pure adoration “Mmhmm, I need your cock Lew, please”

“that’s my good girl, c’mere” his calloused hands finding their place on my hips as he pulls me onto his lap, giving his cock a few strokes before lining himself up with my entrance allowing me to sink down on him.

Lewis is fairly big so he’s patient with me as I take him inch by inch until he’s fully bottomed out and allowing me to adjust to his size. Right when I was comfortable enough to start bouncing and I lifted my hips one of Lewis’ hands that were still resting on my hips tightened and pulled me right back down

“Nuh uh baby, you’re just gonna sit here and we’re gonna talk” his hands now drawing imaginary circles on my hips “how’s your day been pretty?” a small smirk appears on his face. Bastard, he knew what he was doing and he was enjoying it.

A whimper escaped my lips as my core ached for friction. In a pathetic attempt of getting lewis to break and fuck me, I clenched down on his cock and I smile to myself as I hear a low guttural moan from him

“Please Lew, I need to move. I need to feel you moving inside me, I need th-this. please please” I’ve never begged for anything in my life the way I’m begging for Lewis to move his cock in me. Who could blame me? I can feel every ridge and vein of his cock, I started squeezing around him so hard that I swear I felt the blood continue flowing through his veins when I stopped clenching. I was so caught up in relishing the feeling of his cock buried deep inside me that I didn’t even notice Lewis was talking to me, not at least until I felt a firm hand on my jaw and another gently slap my cheek a few times.

“Oh has my baby gone dumb on me? I’m asking you a question but I bet all you’re thinking about is how my cock is buried so deep inside you that if I came right now, I’d guarantee putting a baby in you.” I couldn’t take it anymore, against my better judgment I started rocking my hips. Something about the way Lewis was talking to me like I’d had no brain cells did something to me and I was determined to get not only him to cum but me to come again for the fourth time tonight.

Lewis’ head fell back in pure bliss as the hands that were planted on my hips started helping me move, it didn’t last long as Lewis came back to his senses quickly halting my movements. “Now, I didn’t tell you that you could move did I?” Silence. “I asked you a question darling. Answer me or I cut this night short.” the words escaped my mouth, I wanted to respond. I really did, but I couldn’t form words and that upset Lewis.

“Oh well, I had a fun night planned for us but since you can’t follow simple instructions,” Lewis lifted me off his hips, letting out a small hiss at the sudden loss of contact “I guess my plans with you have gone to waste” all the words that escaped me a second ago now flooding back to me.

“No, please Lew. I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I’ll obey you, I really need your cock, I need you to make me cum again.” I could tell that my words were getting to him but not quite enough for him to forgive me.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve given you many chances now I think it’s just appropriate to make you watch as I pleasure myself and leave you high and dry” my thighs clench at the thought of Lewis making me watch as he touches himself and that did not go unnoticed by him “Oh but you’d like that would you? I wouldn’t have taken you as a dirty slut but I’m not complaining”

The threat of touching himself as I watched unable to do anything was no longer a threat as I watched Lewis get off his bed and walk over to the bedside table pulling out two pairs of black fluffy handcuffs making his way over to me as he opens the cuffs.

“sit up against the headboard.” he ordered, sending a gush of wetness between my thighs. I comply knowing I shouldn’t push his buttons more unless I want this night to really end.

As I say against the headboard I watch Lewis intensely as he grabs my one wrist and cuffs it to the bed before climbing on the bed and almost straddling me as he cuffs my other hand to the bed. His cock was just dangling in front of my face so also against my better judgement I give it a kitten lick before placing a kiss on it. Once the cuffs clicked Lewis grabbed my face

“Disobeying me as I’m punishing you? You really don’t want me to take care of you tonight. No no, I think you want me to punish you all night into the morning.” his voice low and seductive

I tug my wrist against the headboard trying to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss but to no avail. I watch as Lewis sits opposite of me as he starts stroking his cock smearing the precum from his head using it as lube. He sets a slow pace as he moves his wrists, he’s not touching himself for pleasure right now. No, he’s touching himself because he knows I want to but can’t because of this punishment.

I bit my lower lip as I watched Lewis’ excruciatingly slow pace, I don’t know why it’s bothering me seeing as it’s not me he’s pleasuring. But that might just be it, he’s so perfect that he shouldn’t have to be pleasured at such a slow pace, he deserves to be worshipped, to have someone that he can use whenever he wants.

Lewis seemed to have taken notice of my thoughts “It’s getting to you right? Watching me touch myself so slow, knowing you would do the opposite?” a nod was all I could do “I need your words if you want your punishment to end soon.”

“Yes, yes it’s killing me Lew. I want to touch you, suck you, I want your cum, I want it all. I want everything you’re willing to give me.” it’s pathetic really, why is he the only man to have this effect on me? I’m a woman for crying out loud, I should be independent and not wasting my time on a man but something about Lewis made me throw all sense of womanhood away.

If this man told me to quit my job and be a stay at home wife like how it was in the 1950s, I would gladly quit my job right now.

“That’s my good dirty girl” as Lewis praised me for using my words, he sped up his strokes. I could tell by the way his face contorted that he was close. “Baby, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” the pace of his strokes told me he wouldn’t last long.

“in my mouth, I need to taste you”

That was all it took before lewis got on his knees and shoved his cock down my throat moving his cock in and out of my throat. As Lewis kept fucking my throat, he was close enough that I could barely touch him but I did anyway. His hips stuttered and with one final thrust he was shoving his cock so far down my throat as he came that my head was sliding to the side of the headboard but it have me better clearance to grip his hips pulling him deeper inside of my throat.

With shaky thighs Lewis pulled back and sat on my thighs as he watched me as I swallowed all of his cum like I said I would. The second Lewis sat down his semi limp cock gently grazed my clit a wave of euphoria came over me and I came. This time was different though, I squirted for like, the first time ever and it was all over Lewis.

“Oh baby, you’re in for a long night” Lewis said while he lapped up whatever he could from both of our stomachs before taking the handcuffs off “be prepared to not walk for a while”

—————

I REALLY WANNA CONTINUE BUT YA GIRL HAS A JOB AND I HAVE TO GET DRESSED AND LEAVE . LMK IF I SHOULD CONTINUE OR IF I SHOULD JS LEAVE IT.

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal

[skyartworkzzz]

What you think of Celeste?

Also, would you do a crossover of Cult of the Lamb with Undertale?

IVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT ONCE AND NOW I CAN ACTUALLY FORCE MYSELF TO IMAGINE IT

Lads, gents, in and out betweens, I present u my married tisms:

GONNA RAMBLE ABOUT IT A LIL BELOW CUZ MY MIND WENT DOODOO THINKING OF THIS:

Narinder was executed after betraying his siblings so his spirit has been haunting the lands for a long time, until the people were forced to abandon it and create their New Home somewhere else. Narinder kept haunting the Ruins until a little lost Lamb fell to his tomb Now seeing themselves stuck in this world, they made a pact with Narinder in order to escape, having to fulfill his desires of revenge by killing his siblings

The Crowns work as Souls here, but only the strongest creatures are able to make them manifest physically as a snake or any other object I drew all of them as snakes here, but now that Im thiking about it, maybe each Bishop could have their own Crowns morphed into an animal companion of their preference, like Heket having a squirrel, Kallamar a fish, Leshy a bird and Shamura a small bat mayhaps 🤔

The Red Crown will work as Flowey here, since it belonged to Narinder, but after the pact was done with the Lamb, it has since then linked itself with Lambert's being in order to guide them through their journey + also serving as means for them to communicate with Narinder In the end, the Final Battle would be with Narinder, after he has absorbed his siblings' souls and others that the Lamb kills. Depending on the Lamb's choice, theyd be able to either fight Narinder out of sympathy for all the creatures that he'd murder in the lands as to complete his revenge, or leave and have Narinder set free to conquer the world maybe with Lamb by his side

Im still thinking of the endings more throughly BUT THATS THE GIST OF IT ALL FOR NOW tysm for asking!! <3

ALSO AS For ur other question, Im not sure which Celeste ure talkng about, is it like a game or character...? :o

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

NSFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : Chris and Y/N find themselves at Chris’s secret beach house, a hidden gem he’s kept private, even from his brothers. He and Y/N relax on the sand, a fire crackling in front of them and soft music playing from Chris's portable speaker. As they admire the moonlit ocean, Chris's gaze lingers on Y/N, drawn to her serene beauty. When Y/N catches his eye, a charged, intimate moment begins to unfold between them under the stars.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🦌⊰˚ : “𝐂’𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞,” Chris gripped my wrist firmly as he led me out of the back sliding glass door and down the steps onto the sand. “Chris,” I chuckled, stumbling slightly as I tried to keep up with his quick pace.

He shot a glance back at me, his eyes intense as he locked eyes with mine for a moment. “Stay close,” he murmured, his voice firm yet strangely tender.

The moon cast a gentle glow over the stretch of empty beach, the sound of waves lapping against the shore providing a soothing soundtrack to our surroundings.

Chris walked purposefully, his steps leaving deep imprints in the soft, cool sand as he continued to hold onto my wrist, almost protectively.

Chris finally released my wrist, gesturing for me to take a look at our setting. “Take a seat,” he instructed, placing a blanket on the sand near the unlit fire pit. He then knelt down to place his portable speaker on the blanket before standing up to strike a match and ignite the kindling.

I watched as the flames flickered to life, casting a warm glow over Chris's face as he looked up at me. The crackling of the fire blended with the sound of the waves, creating a calm and intimate atmosphere.

Chris sat down on the blanket, patting the spot next to him for me to join. I settled down beside him, a soft, comfortable silence settling between us.

As we sat there watching the fire, I found myself stealing glances at him. The way the flames danced on his face, highlighting the defined features and adding an air of mystery, drew my eyes.

Chris, seemingly sensing my gaze, turned to look at me, the corner of his mouth curving into a small smile.

I tried to focus my attention back on the ocean, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. The fire's flickering light emphasized the scattering of freckles across his face, making them stand out more than they normally would.

Chris remained motionless, his gaze fixed out onto the dark expanse of the ocean.

After a few moments, it was Chris who broke the silence. Turning to me, he spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You've been looking at me a lot.”

I felt my cheeks warm in a flush, caught off guard by his observation. I tried to brush off the comment with a chuckle. “Just taking in the view.”

Chris let out a soft, low chuckle, returning his gaze on the ocean in front of us. As he spoke, his voice was low and smooth.

“You know,” he began, “I've never brought anyone here before.”

I nudged his shoulder playfully, a teasing smile on my lips. “Should I believe that? I've known you for years, Chris. I've also been there through your frat boy era too,” I teased, making him chuckle, “I'm sure you've brought someone here before.”

Chris shifted to face me directly as he spoke, his expression turning more serious.

“I'm serious though,” he said, his voice serious yet soft, “You're the first. Not even Matt and Nick know about this place. I've never shared it with anyone until now.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between us, his confession adding a new layer to our already intimate setting.

I didn't know what to say, a mixture of surprise and gratitude washing over me. The fact that he'd chosen to bring me here, to let me into this hidden part of his life, made me feel a small shiver of excitement.

Chris looked back out to the ocean, his gaze fixed on the endless stretch of black water. I studied his profile, the sharp jaw, the strong nose, the way the fire's light created shadows on his face, making him look almost like a sculpture.

“Why me?” I finally asked, my voice just above a whisper.

Chris looked at me for a moment, his gaze intense. “I don't know,” he admitted, his brow furrowing slightly. “I just... I don't want to keep sharing everything with Matt and Nick. For once I want something that's my own, and I didn't want to share this with them.”

The words hit me like a shock. I felt a strange mix of emotions—appreciation, surprise, and a hint of something more that I couldn't quite pinpoint.

“But why me?” I repeated, my voice a notch softer this time.

Chris turned his head fully towards me, his expression unreadable. “Because,” he began, his voice a low rumble, “You've always seen me. For who I am. For real.”

I could feel my heart race a little faster, the meaning behind his words sinking in. He'd never said anything like this before, and hearing him speak so honestly, so vulnerably, was both unexpected and beautiful.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could get any words out, Chris changed the subject.

Chris suddenly rose from his spot on the blanket, brushing off any stray sand from his shorts. He held his hand out to me. “Come on,” he said, his voice firm yet comforting.

I took his hand, the soft texture of his palm sending a little shiver down my spine. I dusted off the sand from my legs and feet, then started walking ahead of him towards the water.

The cool, soft water lapped against my toes, causing a small ripple in the otherwise still surface. I closed my eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation.

Chris stepped up behind me, his hands lightly touching my shoulders. I could feel his warmth radiating from his body as he leaned in close, his breath a soft whisper against my ear.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his arms slowly wrapping around my shoulders.

I instinctively leaned back against him, the solidity of his chest pressed against my back providing a sense of comfort and protection. His arms tightened around me, pulling me even closer until there was minimal space between us.

We stood there for a moment, the cool water gently lapping against our ankles as he held me close. With his arms around me, he began gently swaying back and forth, his movements mirroring the slow rhythm of the music playing softly in the background from his portable speaker.

I found myself relaxing into his embrace, feeling safe and warm. It was normal for us to be touchy with each other—it's how we provided comfort to each other.

However, this touch felt different. It was more intimate, more charged than our usual interactions. There was an undercurrent of something beneath the surface that sent small jolts down my spine.

I tried to ignore the feeling, telling myself it was just the atmosphere, the seclusion, the soft music playing in the background, but a small voice inside me told a different tale. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating against my back, his breath warm on my neck, and it made my own heartbeat quicken slightly.

The silence around us was interrupted only by the sound of the waves and the quiet murmur of the music playing from his speaker. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to fully immerse in the moment, in the sensations of his body against mine, his presence surrounding me.

Without thinking, my hands moved up to his forearms, my fingers wrapping gently around his wrists. The skin was warm and smooth, the muscles there firm yet supple. I held onto him, the simple action grounding me and making me hyper-aware of all the points where our bodies met.

I could feel the firmness of his muscles under my fingertips, the steady, reassuring pulse of his blood through his veins.

I could feel his wrists move slightly under my grip, a small shift that sent a new wave of sensation through me. His hands on my shoulders flexed momentarily, pulling me even closer to him. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgement that this moment was more than just a friendly hug.

After a few moments of silent tension, Chris began talking, his voice a low, steady rumble in my ear. It was almost as if he was trying to ignore what was happening between us. It was casual, nonchalant even as he continued to hold me close.

“Did you know...” he began, his words breaking the silence that had settled over us, “That the world's oceans cover about 70% of the Earth's surface?”

I chuckled softly, a small smile on my lips. It was typical of Chris to spout random facts whenever he had the chance. The guy had an endless amount of useless information lodged in his brain.

“Yeah,” I responded, feeling his body move against mine with my words, “I remember you telling me that. Multiple times”

I could feel him chuckle against me, the rumble of his laughter sending vibrations through my body. He was still trying to keep up with the casual small talk.

“I might've mentioned it a few times,” he admitted, his voice low and close to my ear. “I just think it's a fascinating fact. There's so much of the ocean we still haven't explored.”

I hummed in agreement, my mind suddenly spinning with a million different thoughts, all of them centered around the man behind me. The feel of his arms around me, his breath against my neck, his body pressed against mine...it was distracting, it was exciting. I tried to focus on his words.

“Maybe you should take up deep sea diving,” I joked, trying to mask my internal struggle with humor.

“Nah,” he responded, his voice a little amused. His arms tightened slightly around my shoulders, pulling me even closer, his chest now flush against my back. “I'd rather stick to exploring this,” he whispered, his breath sending another shiver down my spine.

I suddenly became aware of what I'd been doing—my fingers had been tracing small, absentminded patterns on his forearms, almost without realizing. When he spoke, my hand stilled, my whole body going slightly stiff as I processed his words.

“Exploring what?” I asked, my voice soft, breathless. There was a charged undertone to the simple question, a hint of the tension we'd been trying to ignore.

Chris was quiet for a moment, his arms still tightly wrapped around me. I could almost sense the struggle he was going through, the war between the feelings he was hiding and the casual banter that had become our norm.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice even lower, quieter than before. “You,” he simply replied, the single word packed with a wealth of meaning.

I felt my breath catch in my throat, a mix of surprise and disbelief rushing through me. The raw honesty in his voice, the way he simply said “You” made my heart skip a beat. I turned my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, but we were so close that I could only make out the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his chin.

“Me?” I managed to ask, my voice a soft whisper.

He answered my question with a simple “Mhm, you,” his voice a throaty murmur against the skin of my neck. At the same time, I felt his arms slowly loosen from around my shoulders, then slide down to my waist, pulling me even tighter against him. His lips found their way to the sensitive skin of my neck, leaving a trail of soft, warm kisses there.

His touch was electric, igniting sparks of need and desire within me. Each kiss, each drag of his lips against my skin sent a wave of heat through my body. It was different from the way we usually touched each other—there was something more, something deeper. His hands at my waist were firm, his thumbs gently tracing circles on my hips.

His lips moved from my neck to my jawline, each kiss a little more ardent than the last. His breath was warm, his kisses soft but insistent. I could feel my head tilt back slightly, exposing more of my neck for him to explore. I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the sensation.

I reached for his wrist at my waist, my fingers wrapping around the warm, muscled flesh. My mind was spinning, conflicted between the pleasure he was causing and the realization that we were out in the open.

“Chris,” I whispered breathlessly. He paused his kisses, his lips still touching my skin as he hummed in response, “Hmm?”

The sensation of his lips on my neck was making it difficult to think straight, but I forced myself to focus, to ignore my body's responses. “We can't,” I managed to say, my voice shaky. “We're out in the open. Anyone could see us.”

Chris pulled his lips away from my neck, but his hands remained at my waist, refusing to let me go. “It's a private beach,” he said, his voice still low and close to my ear. “Only the people who own homes around here can be on it. We're fine.”

The thought of us being completely alone, with no one around to disturb us, only added to the growing tension between us. “But...” I tried to argue, “What if...” but my mind was too fogged by the feel of his body against mine to come up with any solid argument.

“Shh, baby,” he breathed, his mouth back at my jawline, my neck, any patch of skin he could find. “You're worrying too much. We're alone, I promise.”

His words combined with his touch sent another shiver down my spine, my resistance starting to crumble. It was hard to argue with him when he called me “baby,” when he was touching me like this...

His lips found mine, stealing any further objections I might've had. I turned in his arms, our bodies now fully facing each other, our mouths locked in a heated kiss. All my thoughts, all my worries seemed to disappear as his tongue slid against mine, as his hands held me closer, tighter.

We stood there, our bodies pressed together, kissing under the moonlight. This wasn't like any other time we'd been close. There was no hint of friendly affection. This was pure, unadulterated desire, and we were drowning in it.

My hands tangled in his hair, holding his head in place as I returned the kiss with fervor. I couldn't get enough of him. His taste, his scent, the way he held me against him—it was intoxicating.

He nipped at my bottom lip, the slight sting causing a small gasp to escape my lips. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, exploring, claiming.

His hands moved down from my waist, cupping my hips, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the evidence of his desire, hard and hot against my stomach, and it only fed my own need, my own hunger.

I could feel my body responding to him, to his touch, in ways I'd never expected. There was a primal need building within me, a need I'd never felt before, not for him.

My thoughts were a jumbled mess, my mind filled with nothing but him, his kiss, his touch. I'd always felt a certain attraction to him, but this... this was more intense, more primal. It was as if a switch had been flipped and all my boundaries had vanished.

He pulled me tighter against him, his hands roaming over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I was drowning in him, in the sensations he was causing.

I needed more, I wanted more.

I broke the kiss to catch my breath, my chest heaving, my body on fire. Chris's lips moved down the column of my neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands were under my shirt now, his palms flat against my bare stomach. The feel of his skin against mine sent another shiver through me and I found myself whispering,

“More.”

He growled in response to my plea, his hands sliding up further, his palms grazing the underside of my breasts through the thin material of my bra. “More?” he repeated, his voice a rough, raw whisper. “Are you sure you can handle more?”

I whimpered, my brain too foggy to form a coherent response. The feel of his hands on my skin, the sound of his voice, it was all too much. “Yes,” I managed to gasp. “Please, more.”

His hands moved again, his fingers finding the clasp of my bra. He looked up, his eyes locking with mine, dark with desire. “Tell me you're sure,” he demanded. “Once we start, I won't be able to stop.”

I met his gaze, my own eyes filled with need. “I'm sure,” I murmured, my voice breathless. “I want this, I want you. Don't stop, please.”

He crushed his mouth against mine in a hard, passionate kiss. Then abruptly scooped me up, his strong arms lifting me off my feet with little effort. I instinctively looped my arms around his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist as he walked us over to the blanket by the fire pit.

He set me down gently, bracing himself over me, supported by his forearms on either side of my shoulders. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his eyes fixated on mine.

He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, heated kiss. His tongue danced with mine as his body shifted, his right thigh sliding between my legs. I gasped, the sudden contact igniting a wave of heat through me.

He broke the kiss, moving to my neck, biting and licking and kissing the sensitive skin there. I writhed beneath him, the mixture of pleasure and need making me forget to think. All I could feel, all I could focus on was him, his touch, his lips.

His knee pressed up against my core, adding to the friction, the pressure. I arched into him, my hips moving against his, seeking more. His hands were on my waist now, holding me in place as he continued his assault on my neck, my jawline.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” he murmured against my skin, his words sending small vibrations through me, “How long I've thought about you.”

His touch was driving me wild, his hands setting my nerve endings on fire with every slide of his fingers against my skin. All rational thoughts were gone from my head. I managed to find my voice, my words a breathless whisper. “So show me,” I said, my voice roughened by need.

“Show me how much you've wanted this.”

My words seemed to snap the last thread of his self-control. With a growl, he leaned back, his hands gripping the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one swift motion. I was suddenly bare from the waist up, the cool night air a shock to my overheated skin.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at me, his gaze roaming over my body, taking in the sight of me laid out beneath him. “God, you're beautiful,” he murmured once more, his voice thick with desire. His eyes roamed over my body, his gaze hot and dark. His hands were on my waist again, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of my shorts. “I want to see all of you.”

I couldn’t do anything but nod, my body responding to his words, to his touch. He slowly began to unbutton my shorts, his fingers moving with a precision that only hinted at his impatience. I lifted my hips, helping him remove the last barrier between us.

He leaned down again, his mouth finding my collarbone, trailing a path of kisses down to my chest. His hands continued to roam over my skin, his touch leaving trails of heat everywhere he went. I gasped, arching into him, my fingers tangling in his hair, holding him against me.

His teeth grazed a sensitive spot on my neck, a spot I didn't even know was sensitive. I let out a small moan, tipping my head back to give him better access. He took full advantage, his mouth latching onto the spot, his tongue swirling over the skin.

His hands were slowly moving further down my body, his thumbs brushing along the lace waistband of my underwear. I shivered at his touch, my body taut with anticipation, with need.

He paused his kisses, lifting his head to look at me. His eyes were almost black with desire, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. “I promise,” he said, his voice rough, “By the time I'm done with you, you'll never forget this night.”

I looked up at him, my own breath coming in short gasps. I reached up, my hand cupping his cheek, my thumb brushing over his bottom lip. I met his gaze, my own eyes filled with desire, with need.

My heart was pounding in my chest, every part of me vibrating with desire. I took a shaky breath, my voice catching in my throat as I spoke. “I don't want to forget this,” I managed to say, my words a raw, honest admission. “I don't want to forget any part of this night. Of you.”

He groaned, the sound sending a thrill through me. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his eyes locked with mine. “You won't,” he promised, his voice low, intense. “I'll make sure you won't.”

His lips found mine again, the kiss hot and urgent. I let my hands explore his body. My fingers slid under the hem of his shirt, finding the warm skin and firm muscles beneath. I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart matching the one in my own chest.

With each touch, each caress, I could feel him losing more and more of his control. I pulled his shirt up, my hand splayed across his taut stomach. I wanted to feel all of him, to touch and taste every part of him.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss. Without warning, he leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head. His hair fell back into place, messy and disheveled. He tossed the shirt aside, neither of us caring where it landed in the sand.

He leaned down, his mouth finding my collarbone first, then my chest, kissing a path down my body until he reached my stomach. His hands slid down my sides, his palms flat against my skin as he continued his path down my body. He moved further down, his hands now on my thighs.

His kiss moved to my thighs, his eyes locking on mine the entire time. There was an intensity in his gaze, a burning heat that made me shudder. He slowly kissed a path along my inner thigh, his tongue darting out to taste my skin.

And then, without warning, he pulled away, his hands leaving my skin. I felt a moment of bereavement, a small whine escaping my lips at the loss of contact. He simply chuckled, his eyes darkened with lust. “Patience, baby,” he murmured. “I'm not done with you yet.”

He reached up, his arms moving under me, unhooking my bra with the ease of practice. He removed it, tossing it aside, his eyes never leaving my body. I could see the heat in his gaze, the desire that mirrored my own.

His hands were back on my body, his palms gliding over my skin. His touch was reverent, almost worshiping. As if he were making up for all the times he'd wanted to touch me, but hadn't.

His lips moved to my breast, gently nibbling and kissing. But he didn't spend too much time there. He had other plans. Slowly, his hand drifted down to the waistband of my underwear.

My heart raced as I watched him hook his fingers into the delicate fabric. He looked up at me, his eyes burning with desire. With a gentle tug, he slid my underwear down my legs, throwing them somewhere on the sand.

Now I was completely exposed to him. He bit his lip, his gaze roaming over my body, taking in every inch of me. His hands ran down my thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

Chris leaned forward, positioning himself between my legs. His breath was hot against my skin as he lowered his mouth to my core. I gasped as I felt his tongue flick against me, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. He licked and teased, driving me wild with desire.

His tongue explored every part of me, swirling and tasting. My hips bucked against his mouth, needing more, needing everything. He groaned against me, the vibrations sending me closer to the edge.

Chris's fingers entered me, joining his tongue as he devoured me. My walls clenched around him, desperate for more. He sucked on my clit, his nose nuzzling my flesh as he worked me higher and higher. I was so close, teetering on the brink of orgasm.

I reached down, grabbing fistfuls of Chris's hair. I held him to me, keeping his mouth against my core. I needed that contact, needed the pleasure he was giving me. I cried out as my orgasm washed over me, my body trembling and writhing against his mouth.

“Chris!” I moaned, my voice hoarse and needy. My nails dug into his scalp as pleasure consumed me, wave after wave of pure bliss crashing over me. Chris continued to lick and tease me through it all, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure from my body.

Finally, with a soft growl, Chris lifted his head from my dripping core. His face was flushed, his eyes dark with lust. He crawled up my body, his skin slick with my arousal.

“I need to be inside you,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

Chris quickly removed his shorts and boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. My mouth watered at the sight; I desperately wanted to taste him. But before I could, he had lined himself up at my entrance, rubbing the tip against me teasingly.

“Please, Chris,” I begged, my voice low and throaty. “I need you” I couldn't take it anymore; I needed to feel him filling me up, stretching me out. Chris didn't make me wait any longer.

With a groan, Chris pushed inside me, his thick, veiny cock stretching me almost to the point of pain. But it felt so good. He filled me up completely, his hips pressed against me, his cock throbbing deep inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Chris! Oh fuck, Chris!” I cried out loud, my voice a whining moan as he started to pound into me. Every thrust hit me right in the cervix, sending waves of pleasure radiating through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me.

“Fuck!” I cried out, my voice loud and high. I was a writhing mess beneath him, my nails digging into his back as he pounded into me. Each thrust was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, driving me wild with need.

Chris's hips snapped forward, his cock driving deep into me with every thrust. I was completely at his mercy, my body helpless under the onslaught of pleasure he was giving me. My eyes rolled back, my head thrashing from side to side as he claimed me, marking me as his.

“Baby, slow down,” I managed to whimper, my fingers digging into the muscles of Chris's forearm as I tried to steady myself. But he was too far gone, too consumed by his own lust to listen to my pleas. He just kept pounding into me, his rhythm brutal and unrelenting.

Chris's cock felt like it was hitting my womb with each thrust, the sensation bordering on painful yet somehow still incredibly pleasurable. I could feel every vein, every ridge, every throbbing pulse of his dick as it split me open and filled me to the brim.

I whined and cried out, my voice high and strained as I begged for mercy. “Please, Chris! It's too much! Slow down!” But my words fell on deaf ears. He just kept fucking me harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic and wild with every passing second.

Chris's voice was a low, soothing rumble as he spoke, his hot breath tickling my ear. “I know you can take it, baby. Just relax and let me make you feel good. You're so tight, so perfect around me. Take my cock, yeah? Take it all.”

I couldn't help but cry out as he continued to fuck me, tears streaming down my face from the sheer intensity of it all. “Oh god, Chris! It feels so good! I can feel every inch of you!”

“Good girl,” Chris praised, his voice a low growl as he started to pound into me even harder. I could feel the weight of his body bearing down on me, his hips slamming into mine with a force that made the sand move beneath us. “Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch.”

“Yes! Chris!” I screamed as he kept pounding into me, my body trembling and shaking beneath him with each thrust. The way he was fucking me was driving me insane, every movement stoking the flames of pleasure higher and higher until I felt like I was about to explode.

Chris's thrusts grew more intense, each one harder and deeper than the last. He leaned down and bit my shoulder, marking me with his teeth as he reached for a new level of intensity. “Hold onto me, baby,” he commanded.

I wrapped my arms around his broad back, digging my nails into his skin as I held on for dear life. The sensation of his muscles flexing under my touch only fueled my desire, and I couldn't help but scratch and claw at him as he drove into me with abandon.

With a deep groan, Chris reached down and pressed his hand against my stomach, feeling the contours of his cock as it pushed inside me. The sensation was overwhelmingly intense, and I could hear the smack of his hips against my thighs as he picked up the pace.

The weight of his body bearing down on me, the thrusts of his hips against mine, the grip he had on my stomach as he felt his cock inside me—it was all too much. I could barely think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence. “Fuck, Chris...”

And that's when Chris really started to lose himself in the moment. His hips snapped against mine with wild abandon, and I could hear the desperate, guttural sounds he was making as he pounded into me over and over again

“Fuck, yes,” Chris groaned, his voice thick with desire and barely controlled lust. He leaned in close to me, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered dirty, filthy things that made me see stars. “Do you like that, baby? Feeling me so deep inside you?”

“I can feel your pussy squeezing me, gripping my cock so tightly,” Chris continued, his words punctuated by the slap of flesh on flesh as he picked up the pace. “You're milking me for all I'm worth, aren't you, ma?”

“You're mine,” Chris panted, his hips stuttering as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. “Nobody will ever fuck you like I do. Nobody will ever make you feel this good.”

“Tell me you're mine,” Chris demanded, his voice a low, urgent growl. “Say it, baby. Say you'll never let anyone else touch you like this, that you're mine forever.” Chris gasped, his breath hot against my skin as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. His thrusts were becoming erratic now, his cock throbbing deep inside me as he felt himself about to come undone.

Chris grabbed my face in his hands, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me up to meet his intense gaze. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. “You can't even form the words, can you? You're so overwhelmed by how good I make you feel.”

I couldn't respond, my voice stolen by the intensity of the moment, by the sheer overwhelming pleasure coursing through my veins. Chris's grip on my face tightened, his blue eyes burning into mine with an almost desperate need.

As if I'd been waiting for the words to form, they spilled from my lips in a rush of breathless confession. “Fuck! I'm yours!” I managed to gasp out, the words feeling like a sacred oath. “Each part of me is yours, Chris. All of me belongs to you.”

Chris's eyes lit up with satisfaction at my declaration, a deep, rumbling “Good” vibrating through his chest as he pressed his lips to mine in a fierce, hungry kiss. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me, as he continued to drive into me with relentless, punishing thrusts.

I wrapped my fingers around his forearm, clinging to him as he pounded into me. He broke away from our kiss to gasp out the question. “Where do you want it?”the force of his thrusts almost too much to bear. But I needed more, craved the raw, animalistic connection only he could provide. “Inside,” I whimpered, my voice strained, pleading.

With a deep groan, I could feel the coils of pleasure tightening in my core, the familiar heat spreading through my body. And as Chris continued to thrust into me, I felt him hit that spot, the one that had me crying out in ecstasy, my nails digging into his arm.

The waves crashed against the shore, the sound mingling with our moans as the moonlight cast a silvery glow over us. my body shuddered in euphoria as the first wave of pleasure crashed over me, the ecstasy so intense, I could barely see straight.

“Chris!” I moaned, the sound torn from my throat as wave after wave of bliss washed over me, each pulse of Chris's hips driving me higher. The moonlight seemed to dance across his features, his face a mask of concentration, his eyes dark with his own impending release.

“Oh, fuck, Y/N!” Chris cried out, the muscles in his arms tightening as he buried himself deep inside me. I could feel him pulsing, releasing his hot warmth deep within me, each spurt driving me higher and higher until I felt myself shatter around him.

With Chris still buried deep inside me, our bodies trembling through the aftershocks, I watched as the moon cast its glow over the sea, the waves crashing gently against the shore.

Panting heavily, Chris collapsed on top of me, his weight a comforting press against my skin as we both struggled to catch our breath. The fire crackled and spat, casting a warm glow over our entwined bodies, the sweat that glistened on our skin sparkling like diamonds in the firelight.

The waves crashed gently against the shore as we lay there, catching our breath, our hearts pounding in sync. I could feel Chris's chest rising and falling rhythmically against mine, his breath warm against my neck. In that moment, everything felt right with the world.

Still catching my breath, I slid my hands into Chris's hair, fingers tangling in the short strands as I pulled his mouth to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. The kiss was different from our heated passion just moments before, but no less tender, our mouths moving slowly, savoring each other.

“I wasn't too hard on you, was I?” Chris asked, looking up at me with a hint of worry in his eyes. His face was flushed from our earlier exertions, and the firelight cast golden shadows on his stubbled cheekbones.

“You were perfect,” I replied, smiling at him. My fingers continued to play with his hair as I spoke, my voice soft and husky with post-coital bliss. Chris grinned down at me, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my lips before resting his head on my shoulder.

Chris reluctantly pulled out of me, giving a soft grunt at the sensation. He stood slowly, his legs wobbling a little as he pulled on his shorts, his length still half-hard and nestled against the fabric.

Once dressed, Chris moved around the beach, gathering up our discarded clothing. I watched him as he moved, admiring the way his muscles rippled under his tanned skin as he bent and stretched to collect every last piece of fabric.

As I struggled to my feet, Chris moved over and wrapped me in the soft blanket that we had laid out on the sand . He smiled at me, his eyes warm and affectionate, before leaning down to pick up his portable speaker, slinging it over his shoulder with the strap.

Chris put out the fire with a swift kick of sand, then took my hand, helping me navigate the short distance to the stairs that led up to his beach house. We pushed through the sliding glass doors and stepped into the cool, air-conditioned interior.

“Let's get you in the shower,” Chris said, leading me towards the bathroom. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature to a warm, steamy mist before helping me step under the spray. I leaned back against him as the water cascaded down our bodies, our skin slick with soap and desire.

After we finished showering, Chris and I stepped out of the bathroom and made our way to the bedroom. We lay down together on the bed, completely naked and unafraid of our bodies. Our legs intertwined as we stared into each other's eyes, lost in a moment of pure bliss.

The soft, silvery glow of the moon seeped through the white, see-through curtains that billowed in the gentle ocean breeze. The floor-to-ceiling windows were open, allowing the salty air to mix with the scent of Chris' skin.

Chris reached for the covers, draping them over our entwined bodies, creating a cozy cocoon of warmth and intimacy. As he pulled the fabric up, his lips found mine in a soft, lingering kiss.

The wind gently rustled the white curtains as Chris and I lay there, our bodies intertwined and covered in the soft blankets. I could hear the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore in the distance, creating a soothing soundtrack for our moment of intimacy.

“I love you,” Chris whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. “More than anything in this world.” As the moonlight danced across his face, I smiled, feeling my heart swell with love and gratitude for this perfect moment.

Chris shifted, laying his head on my chest, his arms wrapping around my waist as he nuzzled against me. I brought my hand up, running my fingers through his soft, damp hair, smiling down at him as he closed his eyes, a content sigh escaping his lips.

The gentle sounds of the night filled the room as we lay there, the soft glow of the moonlight highlighting Chris' peaceful expression. I continued to run my fingers through his hair, the soothing rhythm making me feel a deep, content love for the man on top of me.

As Chris' breathing steadied, telling me he was drifting off, I leaned down and whispered against his hair, “I love you too.” The words were barely audible, but I hoped they carried the depth of my feelings to him as sleep claimed him, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm against mine.

I continued to lay there, my hand still moving through his hair as I quietly watched over him. The love I felt for him was overwhelming in the best way, and I knew that every moment with him was a treasure

My eyes grew heavy as I listened to Chris' steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against mine. His hair felt so soft beneath my fingers, and the warmth of his body against mine was comforting.

Slowly, my eyes began to close, my own breath falling in sync with Chris’s. Our souls intertwined, creating a beautiful, peaceful scene in the dim room as we drifted off into a dreamless sleep, completely content with each other in that moment.

As I lay there, with Chris' warm body pressed against mine, my heart swelled with a deep, unyielding happiness. The way the moonlight touched his peaceful sleeping face seemed almost ethereal, and I felt an overwhelming certainty that…

everything in the world was right.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

If you were to write Lila would you keep her being a con artist criminal with multiple identities but hinted at/revealed it earlier than S5 or would you cut that part down of her character entirely ?

It would really depend on how much space I had to fill. Gabriel is not the kind of villain that you can draw out forever. His story needs to have a clearly planned ending right from the start. In fact, I think they drew him out at least a season too long. So, if I also had to fill eight seasons, I could see myself going the Lila route. I'd just make a few changes. Off the top off my head, here's how I'd handle serious villain Lila as opposed to what canon wrote, which is petty school bully Lila who is entirely unbelievable as a serious villain.

First of all, Lila wouldn't be introduced at the end of season one. While her and Gabriel probably need to have some overlap, that's way too soon. In my version, she shows up at the start of season four and she'd be heavily toned down. We'd know that something was off about her, we may even keep the liar thing, but it would be a lot more subtle. Lies like, "Ladybug rescued me" and "I got to go backstage at a Jagged Stone concert" instead of "Ladybug is my bff" and "Jagged Stone wrote a song about me." Her goal would no longer be gaining peons, but instead gaining true close friends who like and trust her. The reason for this is that Lila is replacing Optigami as Mayura's last sentimonster.

See, season three ended with all those identity reveals and most of the revealed identities are in the same class. That's curious, so it makes perfect sense for Nathalie and Gabriel to want someone undercover in Adrien's class, but they can't do it. So Nathalie makes a sentikid of her own, gives her the power of manipulation, and sends her off to try to find Ladybug and/or Chat Noir by whatever means necessary.

This would give a clear reason for Gabriel to trust Lila, a clear reason for Lila to know all about the miraculous, and a clear reason for Lila to hate Ladybug. In this version, I wouldn't do Nathalie's lackluster redemption. Instead, Nathalie stays bad right up to her death. Perhaps her last act is getting the butterfly to her daughter and ordering her to get revenge on Ladybug and Chat Noir should Gabriel fail. After all, Gabriel can't wield more than six miraculous at once, so it makes sense for him to send Nathalie off with at least one of them while he enacts his master plan just in case it fails.

That's just one potential path to take. I also like the idea of having Lila be someone who came to Paris in order to find the miraculous, but who has no ties to the Agrestes. That would require some pretty big changes to her character, though, as I can't see that type of character caring about things like dating Adrien or being a model or all the other crap that has nothing to do with gaining a miraculous and everything to do with popularity and social clout. Lila canonically doesn't know that Gabriel even has a miraculous until the final of season four, so she basically just lucked into finding one instead of doing anything logical to find it because this show has no clue how to actually write smart, clever characters.

In summary, I'm totally fine with complex, master-manipulator Lila, it's just hard to figure out the best way to make her work when we don't know anything about her backstory or motivation. The version proposed above is just the best I can do to fit her into the role canon placed her in. A role I could easily see later seasons flat out ignoring.

[starlazergazer]

Figure Something Out

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: I was wondering if you could make a enemies to lover where Anakin is madly in love with reader but wont admit it since he likes to mock and annoy her but the reader doesnt, like there are but they arent as strong as Anakins. So as time passes she starts to catch feelings for him and ends in fluff but its a little angsty too yk

Warnings: Swearing, Anakin being a bit of dick

Word Count: 7.5k (sorry not sorry we love a slow burn enemies/academic rivals to lovers)

A/N: Check the blog for a little update if you want but I really hope this was worth the wait! As always please please let me know what you think!

Your eyes bounced fervently back and forth between your master’s and Anakin’s, not even bothering to hide the shock you were sure was etched into your expression. “You can’t be serious”

“Do I look like I’m joking” came your master’s quick reply, his tone alone enough to scold you for your loss in decorum, your posture snapping up reflexively as you schooled your face back to a more natural expression, unable to keep yourself from getting defensive.

“I just mean-“ the hurried deflection rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, your master’s unamused glare enough to keep the words from fully coming out. Taking a deep breath, you tried to better control yourself before you continued. “he’s a padawan, same seniority as me how could he train me?”

“He’s also standing right here” Anakin’s gruff voice proved he was just as thrilled about this assignment as you, though you barely spared him a glance, keeping your gaze locked onto your master’s, a silent plea for him to take it back.

“Padawan Skywalker is the best padawan with a saber by leagues I think he could be of great help to you” And you knew that tone your master used here, one he reserved to tell you he was done discussing the matter.

Dejectedly you finally let your gaze slip over to Anakin’s, offering him a tight-lipped smile “I appreciate your help Padawan Skywalker” you nearly choked on the words, having to force them out of your throat.

Anakin in response said nothing, his arms crossed defensively over his chest as he let his eyes rake your figure quickly, letting your words hang uncomfortably in the air until your master finally broke the silence.

“Truly padawan Skywalker we appreciate everything you do for us” He offered a small nod, clapping Anakin on the back.

“Of course master Koon” and you didn’t miss the way he offered your master a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, nor the way he was happy to return a comment to your master’s thanks but not your own. The two of you were already off to a great start to what was bound to be a very short apprenticeship.

With a small nod back in return Master Koon took his leave, leaving you and Anakin alone in the hallway, you looking up at the padawan expectantly, him pointedly avoiding your gaze as much as possible.

“Look” you drew his attention back to you with a sigh “neither of us want to be doing this so how about we just forget this and go our separate ways?”

He raised an eyebrow up at you in response, clearly unimpressed by your proposed solution “I told Master Koon I would help”

“And how noble of you to do so” you replied with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest to match his posture “but since you clearly want to spend as much time with me as I do you this felt mutually beneficial”

“I’ve seen you fight” he responded back with a small shake of his head “you very obviously do need the help”

“Believe me you’ve made it abundantly clear what you think of my fighting skills in training” you replied with a bitter laugh.

“When it takes your opponent less than a minute to get your saber out of your hand it’s hard to keep my comments to myself”

“It does not-“ and you cut yourself off before you could properly blow up, Anakin always having this weird affect on you, pushing you over the edge with little more than a tap. You weren’t letting him get to you that easily this time. With a deep breath you tried to collect yourself “Fine, when do you want to start?”

Anakin paused for a moment, doing nothing but survey you, probably curious as to why you hadn’t started biting his head off yet, but nonetheless continued “after dinner tonight, now come on we have battle strategies with master Kenobi”

“You were asked to help me train with my lightsaber, doesn’t mean you have to walk me to class from now on” you huffed but followed him down the hallway nonetheless.

“Then start jogging and we’ll call this training too” he answered with a shrug.

-

You sat back trying to listen to Obi-wan’s lecture, finding yourself for the first time ever in this class unable to pay attention to the lecture, instead your focused was solely on the person next to you.

Anakin has spent the last several years making his feelings towards you abundantly clear. If the chiding remarks, the mocking comments, the downright insults were anything to go by then you could easily say that he didn’t seem to like you that much. And you had to say by this point the feeling was mutual.

He’d spent all of his time in this class in particular sitting on the other side of the room, pointedly the chair that was just about as far away from you as possible, something you were sure the rest of the padawan’s had picked up on by this point. And that would explain why now that he not only showed up to class with you in tow but took a seat next to your usual one the entire rooms attention seemed to subtly shift in your direction.

Not that the room’s attention wasn’t usually in his direction if you were being honest. Anakin was the jedi council’s golden boy, the prophetic child that would bring balance to the force, as well as being a hell of a fighter with his light saber, and if you were being totally objective he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. All of this meant he had a natural sort of charisma that seemed to draw the unconscious attentive weight of a room in his direction, a weight that now sat squarely on your shoulders as well.

This new attention combined with Anakin’s incessant knee bouncing meant your focus was on just about anything but the lecture at hand.

“You know you don’t need to babysit me in every other part of jedi training” you whispered over to him, Anakin’s knee bouncing harmlessly against yours as he leaned in to listen and you fought the urge to pull your own back. Afterall this was your desk you weren’t about to contort yourself so he could be more comfortable.

“Is this why you need my help?” he responded with an annoying smirk, leaning in even more as he whispered “because you struggle to pay attention in class?”

You narrowed your eyes back at him in response “I’ll have you know-“

“Padawan Y/L/N, Skywalker” Obi-wan’s unamused voice broke through your whisper sharply, freezing you in place, your face now uncomfortably close to Anakin’s as every eye turned towards the two of you “is there something you would like to share with the class”

“no Master” Anakin answered quickly, righting himself just as you did.

“Perhaps some insight on the battle then?” Obi-wan goaded, gesturing to the holomap before him, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watched his padawan squirm beneath his gaze.

“Well I-“ you could hear the lost tone in Anakin’s voice as he desperately searched for something to say, you having half a mind to let him sit in the hot seat before you let your eyes roam over the map, happy to see that you recognized the battle Obi-wan was walking you through.

“The republic’s army comes from behind” you offered before things could get too awkward, feeling Anakin’s gaze snap in your direction as you spoke “on that ridge over there, flanking the enemy forcing them to surrender”

Obi-wan’s gaze turned to yours with a warm smile as he nodded, no doubt knowing you would know the answer even if you hadn’t been paying complete attention, before he flicked it back to his padawan, raising his eyebrows slightly as he spoke “very good padawan Y/L/N”

He held Anakin’s gaze for a moment longer, an unspoken conversation happening between the two of them before Obi-wan continued lecture like usual, turning back to face the rest of the room.

Taking the opportunity you leaned back towards Anakin again “if there’s one thing I don’t need your help with, it’s this class”

The smirk made another appearance on his mouth as he looked down at you, but this one felt different than before, warmer somehow, as he nodded “noted princess”

-

Whatever confidence you had bolstered from battle strategies quickly left you the minute you got to saber training.

Anakin was already in the center of the room, feet planted squarely on the mat as he spun his saber effortlessly around his body, concentration etched onto his face though you could tell even from across the room that he was just having fun with it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to whip your saber around with such precision that it seemed almost careless.

“You gonna come fight or having too much fun back there enjoying the show?”

You detested the amusement in his voice as you realized you’d spent much too long staring at him from the doorway. Unable to think of much of a response, you immediately cast your gaze down to your shoes, blindly making your way towards the mat, unclipping the saber from your belt.

“What no training sticks?” You asked with a bitter laugh as you turned on your lightsaber, giving it a half hearted twirl in your hand as you set your stance.

“Don’t worry I’ll try not to hurt you” he winked back as he did the same, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

You waited for him to make the first attack, the two of you spinning in a circle around one another, each waiting for the other to strike first.

Not once did that stupid smirk fall from his face, frustration rising more and more within you with each step until you couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to suck it up and make the first move.

Swinging your saber down at him Anakin deflected the blow with little more than a flick of his wrist, barely moving from his original position no doubt in an attempt to show you how easily he could win if he wanted to. Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it.

You barely gave yourself time to recover before making another swing, Anakin deflecting with another simple movement, but you were back at it. Blow after blow Anakin’s saber met yours at every thrust effortlessly, but still you push forward, kept getting closer, not even noting that Anakin never bothered to take a step back. Not noticing how close you got to him until his empty hand shot out mid swing, capturing your wrist and disarming you with a twist, your saber now held tightly in his hand.

Before you could even comprehend what had happened he yanked hard on your arm, twisting you wildly until your back came crashing against his chest, one arm holding your saber and wrapping around your waist to pin you against him the other pressing his blade right up against your throat.

You could’ve screamed in frustration, at how easily he had pinned you, at how effortlessly he seemed to be able to block everything you threw at him, at how close and vulnerable you were now that he had you now pinned against him.

“What is this some game for you? Are you just toying with me?” You spat back at him, not bothering to hide the anger in your voice.

You heard a deep chuckle from behind you, could feel it ruminate up through his chest as it pressed you even further into his chest before he spoke, voice low and right in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it with each word “I’m teaching you princess. Now use that big brain of yours and figure something out”

And you could’ve laughed at his so called advice, at how easy it is to tell someone to figure something out when you didn’t have a saber against your throat.

Instead you decided you were done fucking around.

Picking your foot up you slammed it down hard on the jedi’s left foot at the same time rearing your head back harshly to make contact with his nose, both attacks catching Anakin enough by surprise that he released his hold on you, stumbling back and releasing his grip on your saber enough that you could slip it from his grasp, pivoting on the spot and pointing the tip of the blade right at the jedi’s throat.

Anakin in response held his nose in his hand, pinching the bridge of it as he completely ignored your saber pointed at him, giving you a disappointed glare from overtop of it.

He sniffed and wiggled his nose before shaking his head and bating off your saber with his own half-heartedly “you know that trick won’t work anywhere but here”

“Good thing I don’t need it to work anywhere but here” you returned with a smirk, stepping back a few feet before dropping back into a fighting stance.

Anakin offered nothing more than a disappointed sigh before he dropped into a stance of his own, giving his nose one last check before he launched forward to attack.

You had no problem dodging each of his blows, your body always out of the way of the arc of his saber. The issue arose when it came to deflecting them. Swing after swing your saber was always there to meet his but the effort of stopping each of the jedi’s much more powerful swings had your arms shaking after mere minutes, your feet scrambling back to try and avoid the brunt of each blow as much as possible.

Anakin, however, seemed to zero in on your weakness immediately, never relenting as he swung again and again. You in response started to try and redirect each blow, hoping that redirecting the power of the swing would take the load off your arms.

That was until his saber seemed to hit yours at just the right speed, just the right angle, that the force of it reverberated down to your hands, your grip faltering for just a second but it was enough to have the cool metal of the hilt of your saber slip from your grasp.

Anakin hit immediately with another blow, effectively knocking your saber out of your hands.

You watched dejectedly as your saber slid out from your grasp and flew across the room. With a small sigh you held your empty hands up defensively ready for Anakin to sheath his saber and start listing off all the things you did wrong.

Instead you watched as Anakin stayed rigid in his position, lightsaber still held in front of you, knees still bent ready to strike.

“I get it, you win, I’ll get ‘em next time” you pushed mock enthusiasm into your voice as you started to make your way off the mat in the direction you saw your saber go when a blue column of light swung down just in front of you, barring your movement.

“So in an actual battle your plan is just to give up when you lose your lightsaber?” Anakin’s chiding voice had you gritting your teeth as your head snapped in his direction, little more than an amused smirk on his face as he talked “maybe offer your neck to the sith for an easy decapitation”

“No I’ll-“ frustrated words died in your throat as you sought an end for your sentence. You were tired, sweat had your robes sticking to your torso uncomfortably and every muscle you had burned, now was not the time for his mind games.

“You’ll what?” he pushed forwards, retracting his lightsaber so it now was held in that defensive position you were now all to used to seeing him in.

“I don’t know I’ll figure something out” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then figure something out” he goaded with a raised brow before striking, his saber moving slightly slower than you knew he was capable of, giving you plenty of time to side step out of the way.

“Okay I get it” you called back to him as you dodged another swing, taking a step back towards the edge of the mat “you’ve made your point”

“I’ve made my point when you stop thinking of this as just training” he shot back with another swing of his saber, pushing forward forcing you to take another step back “this isn’t just to get through training so you can advance in the jedi ranks this is about survival” another swing, another dodge and another step back “this is about making sure you stand a chance out on the battle field” you felt the floor beneath your heels start to give way, your toes balancing on the edge of the mat “this isn’t some game Y/N”

You felt your irritation grow within you with each word. You knew this wasn’t some game, you had been outside of the walls of the temple, you had been on a battle field, you knew you needed help with your fighting skills but who was he to decide after one day that you weren’t taking this seriously enough.

You watched as he set up for his next attack, as his foot landed far out in front of him as he lunged forward, the whole world seeming to slow around you as you side stepped the saber, Anakin’s hand sailing past you effortlessly. Without a second thought you seized his wrist, giving it a small twist in the wrong direction as you pulled him forward with it, effectively knocking the jedi off his balance.

Before he could realize what was happening Anakin was sailing forward, past you, to the ground below as you pivoted around to face him from atop the mat, his lightsaber now clutched firmly in your grasp.

Spinning slightly in the air so that his shoulder first made contact with the floor Anakin slid a few inches on the ground, coming to a stop on his back and looking up at you only to see his own lightsaber pointed down at his throat.

“Do you want to offer up your neck for an easy decapitation now?”

And to your surprise you heard nothing back but a laugh. A sound you didn’t think Anakin Skywalker was even capable of.

“That was good Y/N”

You felt your feet faulter beneath you, your knees nearly giving out, was that a compliment?

Your mind was still reeling as you shut down his saber and dropped it to the ground next to you, because Anakin Skywalker did not compliment you. Tease, chastise, bully sure he did all of those things but never compliment. And he certainly didn’t smile at you like he was doing now.

It was a weird sight to see, Anakin grinning from the ground below you, eyes twinkling slightly as his whole face changed with it, and to your horror you found a part of you liking the way it looked on him, as he extended his hand out to you.

Before you could even think better of it you reached out and grabbed his hand, helping to haul him to his feet, ignoring the slight tingle his touch left on your skin, blaming the way your cheeks felt hot beneath his gaze on the exertion of fighting him.

“You may never overpower your opponent but you’re fast” Anakin continued on as if nothing had changed, dusting himself off, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips as he talked “use that, dodge until you have them making sloppy attacks then strike as soon as you can”

It took you too long to notice that he was waiting for you to say something, little more coming out of your mouth than a half-hearted “yeah” that had his brows drawing in confusion.

Stooping slightly, he came down to your eyelevel, nose nearly close enough to touch your own, and for a brief moment staring deeply into each eye before shaking his head softly “that was probably too much for today wasn’t it”

Still you didn’t respond, not sure if you could’ve if you tried, for some reason unable to pull your gaze from Anakin as he looked at you, fluffy hair framing his face perfectly as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours dueling, as if you weren’t drenched in sweat.

Anakin frowned back in response, a single hand coming out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he could think better of it. Then bending down and picking up his lightsaber from where you had dropped it “get some rest princess”

He spoke softly, softer than you had ever really heard him speak before he started to make his way towards the exit, leaving you standing on the edge of the mat, before he called out “I mean it, you did well today”

It was only after he left that it dawned on you, he had used your actual name.

-

Maybe it was naive of you to think that things could change so quickly.

That all it took was one decent lesson from him and the two of you could seamlessly slip into a weird sort of friendship.

Maybe you just wanted to believe you could put everything behind you so easily that you assumed he wanted to do the same.

You’d heard people gush about Anakin Skywalker before. About how helpful he could be, how nice, how charming.

You never got to meet that side of Anakin Skywalker, the man locking that part of himself from you practically the moment he met you. But you had really thought you were starting to see it these past few weeks.

The teasing comments had started to disappear, or they at least lost all their edge, coming off as more inside jokes than anything. He walked you to class every day, some days going out of his way to find you before he started to head in that direction. Your personal space found itself being invaded by him more and more, Anakin no longer going out of his way to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Lingering touches, wandering eyes, inside jokes that had the two of you seeking out each others gaze in crowded rooms to silently revel in what was just said in a way only the two of you would understand.

Anakin Skywalker was quickly becoming your friend.

It was why when you got notified you were heading out on a mission to track down a bounty hunter with him for the first time ever you weren’t dreading the experience.

No you were actually excited.

Excited as you clipped your saber to your belt and headed out of your room.

Excited as you rounded the corner to head to your transport ship.

Excited as you stepped foot on the entrance ramp.

Excited as-

“I just don’t understand why she has to come with me”

It was as if a lead ball had dropped into your stomach. The excitement evaporating on the spot as a numbness took over and your step faltered, your body freezing in place just steps down from the ships entrance.

Because you knew that voice, but even worse you knew that tone. The anger, the contempt, the annoyance.

All it took was one simple phrase and you were ripped back into the same existence of just weeks ago before you had fallen for all of Anakin Skywalkers tricks.

“I agreed to train her and I’ve been doing that why does she have to hijack my missions now”

And you wished you could say his words didn’t affect you. Afterall just a few weeks ago you would’ve expected to hear them from him, you’d practically grown up hearing this resentment for merely existing in his vicinity.

Then why did they hurt so much now?

Why did they have a painful lump starting to grow in your throat?

Why did they make you wish the ground would swallow you whole on the spot?

Why did you ever think you could be friends with Anakin Skywalker?

“Yes master”

Anakin’s final words snapped you from your daze but still you had to force your legs to move you forward slowly, making sure that as Obi-wan exited the ship you were an appropriate distance back from the entrance.

He gave you a kind smile as he exited. As easy as it would have been to resent Obi-wan due to his proximity to Anakin you could never bring it upon yourself. “May the force be with you Y/N” he offered you with a small head bow.

“Thank you master Kenobi” you responded easily, mirroring his bow.

And he looked like he wanted to say more. Perhaps apologize for his padawan, perhaps offer parting words of wisdom, instead he seemed to swallow them, giving you one more slightly tense smile before departing, leaving you with no where to go but up the ramp.

Anakin’s eyes were on you the second you came into view, his face morphing too easily into a soft, friendly smile. “Hey, you ready?”

And it was the way he could flip the switch so easily, act so flawlessly that everything was okay, so effortlessly at ease.

Weeks ago you would have bit back, would’ve offered back some scathing comment, some backhanded remark. It was one thing that kept you from outright hating the young Skywalker. For every insult he spat you always had one to hurl back at him. He could insult you, berate you, belittle you, but you always came back swinging.

Right now though you didn’t have it in you.

You offered nothing more than a small nod of your head, not missing the way his smile morphed into a frown at it.

Maybe he was expecting you to say something, maybe he was gearing up for a fight, maybe he really thought you hadn’t heard him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care what was running through his head at this moment.

You brushed past him towards the cockpit not missing the way his eyes never left you as you did so, not missing the way his hand hovered just over your arm, not missing the way he so hesitantly followed you.

You just had to get through this one mission and you could go back to ignoring Anakin Skywalker.

You weren’t as excited for that prospect as you thought you would be.

-

An involuntary hiss slipped past your lips the second your left foot hit the ground, your weight quickly shifting back to your right to avoid the pain, overcorrecting just enough to knock yourself off balance, all weight balanced dangerously on the edge of one foot as your arms reached out half-hazardly seeking anything solid to steady yourself.

Just before you could tip over another body slotted itself beside you, shoulders fluidly depositing themselves beneath your arm as another arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into Anakin’s slide as he swore quietly “I told you to stay put”

You laughed bitterly at that, forcing yourself to lean back away from him as much as possible even as the arm on your waist tightened, his other hand clipping his saber to his belt so that it could come up and grab the hand he had thrown around his shoulders, effectively pinning you to his side as he started to drag you back to the wall “Yeah sure so you can just leave me”

You felt him still at your words, the grip on your hand and waist slackening for a second as your words seemed to hit him physically, your position keeping you from properly viewing his face as his voice came out softer than you had ever heard him “I wouldn’t do that”

His tone caught you by surprise. If there was one thing you knew about Anakin Skywalker it was that the man was loud, the way he carried himself, spoke, hell the way he flew reeked of confidence to the point of arrogance. Anakin was anything but the soft, almost vulnerable tone that just left him.

And you felt a part of you already starting to reach out to him, ready to pull him into your side and assure him that you knew that, assure him that you knew he was a good person, to tell him that you trusted him.

But another part of you couldn’t give up the way he tried bench you. How after everything you had been through: all the training, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be nice to you lately, how everything seemed to be looking up, he still thought you were nothing more than a nuisance, a less than.

Less than capable, less than a good jedi, less than an apt fighter, less than worthy of his trust.

His motion continued after the brief pause, the two of you finally reaching the wall and Anakin taking care to slowly set you down against it, a hand supporting your calf as you squatted down, careful to keep your foot off the ground.

“You’re right that’s probably a touch too far even for you, so instead you want to what scold me for getting in your way? Tell me I’m a shitty jedi for getting myself injured? Pull my hair and call me ugly?”

Anakin only sighed in response, one hand coming up to tangle his fingers in his hair as the other planted on his hip, Anakin doing nothing but looking down at you in your position on the floor. “why are you always so determined to see the worst in me?”

Again the softness in his tone gave you pause, the sincerity in it something you had only gotten used to in the past few weeks. “Anakin that’s all you’ve ever shown me”

“not lately” his reply came out rushed, a note of exasperation crawling its way onto his voice “lately we were good. At least I thought we were good”

You debated your next words for a second, debated how much vulnerability you were ready to show to the man who has been nothing but hot and cold with you for the past few weeks “I thought we were too”

“so what happened?”

“You tried to get me kicked off this mission” your answer was quick and blunt, eyes immediately picking up on the way his brow furrowed “don’t even try to deny it I heard you-“

“No that’s not-“ he cut you off quickly, letting out a frustrated sigh before continuing “I was trying to do the right thing”

“The right thing?” you echoed back now furrowing your own brow.

“You coming here was an unnecessary risk-“

“ah so you still don’t trust me” you interjected quickly, watching closely the way his entire body seemed to recoil at your words.

“What no-“

“we’ve spent weeks training, you’ve given me good advice, I’ve gotten better you’ve said so yourself. So I don’t get why you still don’t-“

“it’s not that-“

“So then what you still can’t stand to be alone with me for that long?”

“Y/N!” he finally cut you off with a small shout, crouching down in front of you close enough that he nearly occupied your entire field of vision, physically forcing you to pay attention to him rather than let your mind run any longer. “I was just trying to protect you”

Your eyes bounced back and forth between his for a moment, trying to decern the truth, trying to find the underlying meaning. “I don’t know why you think I need your protection. I can handle myself”

Another dejected sigh from Anakin, neither of you moving for a tense few seconds before you heard a muttered “forget it” underneath his breath as he pushed himself up to a standing position.

“we need to get out of here” he offered a hand to you, helping you stand though kept his gaze planted on the back door of the building “we’ll stick to the alleyways and use nothing but blasters if we have to, the sabers will be a dead giveaway”

And though you wanted to push the subject more you knew he was right, get yourself through this mission and you could go back to avoiding Anakin Skywalker. It had quickly become a mantra for you.

You let him pull you softly out the back door, Anakin carefully checking around each corner before ushering you forward, helping you hobble on your one good leg slowly back towards your ship. That was until you heard an eerily familiar voice around the next bend.

“Find the jedi scum and bring them to me. The separatists have plans so I want them alive do you understand me?”

Anakin didn’t hesitate before pushing you back against the nearest wall, using his own body to try and shield yours from view as he pinned you against it, one arm bracing himself against it just over your head.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as the two of you listened intently, footsteps slowly drawing much too close for your comfort.

From this distance you could clearly see the set in Anakin’s jaw as he kept his eyes planted at the nearest corner, muscles tense ready to pounce at a moments notice. That was when the thought struck you.

“Quick kiss me”

Anakin’s entire body froze at your words, his eyes snapping to meet yours blown wide in confusion and shock.

“Come across two people kissing in an alleyway they’re certainly not going to expect them to be jedi so quick” You explained in a harsh whisper, giving his robes a quick tug.

Anakin, however, stayed rooted in place, elbow on his arm planted on the wall locking in place to prevent him from getting any closer to you, wide eyes cemented on your face as his chest didn’t even rise with breath.

“Ani quick” you hissed, trying to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.

The footsteps continued to grow louder, the soft drag of a heel against the pavement your only indication that they were steps away from your hiding spot.

Anakin still didn’t respond, gave no indication that he had heard you after your first command. To no avail you tried to silently beg him to move with your eyes.

“Hey what’re you-“

That was all you let them get out before you made your next decision, grabbing for the blaster on Anakin’s hip you aimed and fired, the shot hitting them square in the forehead sending the hunter to the ground before they could even finish their question.

The blaster noise seemed to finally snap Anakin out of it, a soft shake to the Jedi’s head being the only indication that anything had been wrong as he wordlessly pushed himself off of you and snapped his gaze down to the dead man before you.

“What the fuck was that Anakin?” You hissed, giving his chest a small shove.

Anakin’s eyes, however, never strayed from the unconscious body beneath your feet, his chest heaving with each breath as he kept his jaw locked in place.

“Anakin” you tried calling his name again, another push to his chest, still his eyes never strayed from the ground, his body staggering slightly as he let you push him “you blew our cover and because what? You’re so disgusted by me you can’t put up with one stupid kiss for half a second?”

Finally you got a reaction, his stark blue eyes finally snapping up to meet yours, a steel hard gaze you weren’t entirely prepared for, eyes that begged you to drop it.

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at his look, limping a few steps back from him as you shook your head, the heels of your palms coming up to dig tiredly into your eyes “Even after all that’s happened you really still hate me so much you’d jeopardize the mission to get out of a kiss”

“It can’t happen like that” His voice surprised you, the words in of themselves confusing but his tone throwing you off more than anything, an almost pained ring in it sending you sparling.

“What?”

A quiet swear from under his breath as he started to pace “Our first” he called louder, as if that were an  explanation, his hands clenching at his sides “It shouldn’t happen like that, it can’t”

And you could feel the frustration start to rise within you, the anger from his inaction ebbing to confusion “Ani slow down what is happening right now”

The nickname seemed to have the desired effect, his pace slowing to a soft stop, eyes snapping up to meet yours once again, an almost guilty expression on his face as he stood before you, Anakin Skywalker looking almost small before you for the first time ever “Do you know how many times I’ve thought of it?” he asked you softly, an anxious hand running through his hair as his eyes broke to look at anything but you “How many times I almost just-“ and he cut himself off with a sigh, a soft shake in his head as he looked down at his shoes, a small scoff escaping before he continued “to think that the first time it would happen was to maintain some stupid cover. That it didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t do it”

A part of your brain was lighting up with realization, another part pushing it back down with denial. He couldn’t be talking about kissing you, not now, not after sending you years of signals that said otherwise “Anakin what are you saying?”

His eyes connected with yours again, a pained expression and a small tilt of his head telling you to stop pretending you didn’t know, begging you to move past faking obliviousness.

But still a part of you was reeling back, sending a huff of air through your nose as you shook your head “How many times could you have really thought about it, you just started being nice to me a week ago”

“Years worth” the words came out on his next exhale, a small shrug in his shoulder as he answered “at least since we were nine”

But that didn’t make any sense, that couldn’t possibly be true “This isn’t funny”

A small bitter laugh escaped him in response, a soft shake of his head as he spoke “believe me sweetheart I’m not laughing”

You barely registered the words, your mind already reeling as it went over every thing he’s ever said to you since then, “you’ve been nothing but mean to me since I’ve met you” your words were soft, spoken more to yourself than to him but still Anakin opened his mouth to respond, your voice cutting him off before he could “always criticizing me in front of the masters, mocking my attempts to learn, making me doubt my own abilities”

“I’m sorry”

And some part of your brain registered that those were not words Anakin used lightly, knew the weight those words held for him. Another part knew it still wasn’t enough.

“You’re sorry?” You scoffed “you made me dread every moment I had to spend in your presence for years and the best you have is I’m sorry?”

Anakin had no response to that, his jaw visibly clenching as he fought to maintain eye contact with you, but no words came, he had no excuse, no real way to make up for it, and you both knew it.

“Why?” and the question shouldn’t matter to you, the ends didn’t justify the means, they couldn’t, but still you needed to know.

Anakin took a second, drawing in a deep breath as his gaze shifted to your feet, a small shrug of one shoulder before he answered “I wanted to get your attention”

And like that you were ready to start yelling again, because surely it wasn’t that simple, surely Anakin wasn’t that stupid, that childish. Instead, he continued on.

“I don’t think I realized that was what it was at first, just knew I liked it when you got in my face and pushed back, liked when you got so wrapped up in me that the rest of the world ceased to exist for a little bit” another pause, another deep breath “then once I figured it out I knew I needed to shut it down, the code meant I couldn’t get close, couldn’t form attachments. Pissing you off felt like a good way to keep you at arm’s length while still getting you to notice me”

A million different emotions swirled around inside of you, each trying to claw their way to the surface. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how stupid that was, berate him for having the emotional regulation skills of a child. You wanted to stay silent, let him stew in his miserly, in his guilt. You wanted to cry, the catharsis, the confusion, the mix of conflicting emotions all welling up inside of you, overwhelming you.

Instead, you spoke softly, your voice sounding almost hollow on your own ears “you know when you first came to the temple all the other kid’s thought you were weird”

Anakin’s gaze shot up to meet yours, a slight furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out where you were going with this.

“Looking back I think they were just jealous. You came in later than the rest of us but you already had a master, Obi-wan Kenobi at that, and you already had the councils attention, so they all tried to stay away from you” you took a deep breath, swallowing down the slight shake in it “I thought that was dumb and that I was going to be your friend so I went up to you and I was nice. And at first I thought you were nice. Maker I was so excited to make a new friend and then the next time I saw you it was like a switch had been flipped” Anakin’s disappointed sigh barely registered as you continued “so I tried to be funny, then entertaining, then chill. I tried everything I could to be someone who was worth your time”

You could practically hear Anakin’s teeth grinding as he clenched his fist at his side, leaning back to slump against the wall as he thought for a moment before speaking.

“When I first got to the temple I was scared.” He admitted softly, gaze casted out blankly to the wall on the other side of the alley “I had just lost Qui-Gon, the council didn’t seem to like me, I missed my mother. Then out of nowhere this beautiful girl my age came up to me, took my hand and told me that it was going to be okay, that I was going to be okay, and she said it with such conviction that I couldn’t help but believe her”

You waited with bated breath for him to go on, for him to fill in the gaps of your own story.

“Then what the council said to me about fear hit and I became ashamed of having been a coward, ashamed of needing someone to hold my hand, ashamed of being weak”

You couldn’t have stopped the small chuckle from escaping if you had tried “Anakin you are a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them”

He finally met your gaze at the sound, the corner of his lips tilting up in response “I certainly made sure it appeared that way”

Another silence blanketed the two of you as you each digested the others story, Anakin finally breaking it with a soft chuckle “you were an intimidating kid you know that?”

“I was not” you denied it with an easy shake of your head, barely giving the statement any thought.

“you were” he persisted nonetheless “you were the perfect jedi student, Obi-wan was always on me about being more like you. Listening to him better, meditating better, paying more attention in class”

“Bet that didn’t help the whole hating me thing” there was no resentment in your voice, a soft understanding if anything.

“Don’t you get it sweetheart” he smiled sadly “I’ve never hated you. I’m not sure I could if I tried”

You shook your head softly at that, eyes casted out over the alley around you, speaking after another short beat “come on Skywalker, let’s get back to the ship”

Anakin stayed leaned against the wall for another moment, giving himself a pause to study you before he pushed himself up and offered you his arm to help you walk with a small nod.

You hobbled further down the ally with his help, nothing but the sounds of your deep breaths until you spoke in little more than a whisper “you know you were so busy ‘not hating’ me I don’t think I ever got to know the real Anakin Skywalker”

There was a slight pause in his step at your words, his eyes shooting to the side to meet yours as he raised a brow “are you sure you want to?”

“If he’s anything like the man I’ve been around for the past few weeks” you answered with a small shrug “then yeah. I really do”

Anakin’s face broke out into a wide grin at your words, and you found yourself admiring it once again, for the first time your own mind remaining quiet as you did rather than chastising you for it as usual.

“I’ll try not to disappoint Y/N”

You chuckled softly at that, “Given your previous experience you’ve set the bar exceptionally low” you pointed out giving his shoulder a playful shove “ but I’ll hold you to that”

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐦í𝐚

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: kissing, SMUT, PIV sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy sex, nipple play, cum play. MINORS DNI🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re not the only one experiencing cravings during your pregnancy.

It was the first time Miguel came home to see you in a summer dress during your third trimester. You would usually wear sweatpants paired with a tank top or a t-shirt that would always be too big for you, in an attempt to hide your growing belly.

But now Miguel could see every curve and crevice of you. The dress reached upto your knees with the thin cotton adorned with floral prints, hugged the shape of your body. But the real charm was the ribbon that was added around the waist that accentuated your blossoming bump.

He watched as you bent over the counter top, the fabric tightened as you stretched further and struggled to reach the edge with the wet cloth to wipe down the surface. You huffed while resting your palm on your stomach, a thin film of sweat coated your face, making you glow under the warm kitchen lighting.

After a moment, Miguel finally drew himself closer to you, his hands gently gliding over the soft fabric of your dress as he placed them on your waist. You hummed inquisitively, acknowledging his presence. The faint smell of disinfectant and soap lingered from your skin as your eye bore up onto his.

“¿Qué pasa, amor?” It was easy for him to get lost in the sweetness of your voice, especially hearing you talk in Spanish. Even hearing you curse angrily, the feistiness with the edge you’d carry in your tone was still attractive. He could already see you after giving birth to his child, after hours of labor and pain and you’d still mumble soft words of affection to your baby’s ear that cradled in your arms.

“Your dress.” He simply replied back, his hand trailing up to reach the spaghetti straps that rested on your shoulder, looping his finger beneath the string.

“You like it? I thought I’d treat myself to one of the dresses from the maternity clothes section today.” You seemed unaware on how radiant you looked right now, especially with your bare arms catching a kiss of the setting sun.

“It’s phenomenal on you.” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear with his soft exhales ghosting over your soft neck. He knew by the shift in your gaze, his compliment didn’t reach you completely. He turned you around so you finally faced him, his hands on your belly.

The impending arrival of your child has brought with it subtle signs of motherhood and visible changes in your body. The stretch marks that accommodated the growing belly, the ever-present sheens of sweat and the swelling of your feet that made it hard to walk sometimes - these were all part of your everyday reality until the big day arrived.

Although you were both amazed by the life growing within you, you couldn’t help but feel unattractive which Miguel wasn’t surprised by. You were never obsessed with your appearance but these changes were bound to make you feel a little more self-conscious. However, the dress you were wearing was a hopeful sign.

Miguel found the connection you shared more profound now more than ever and he continued to remind you that you were carrying his child which made you more beautiful to him as well as the journey you were sharing.

He hooked his finger under the strap again, this time dragging it down your shoulders until the top of the dress hung loosely over your breast and did the same on the other side.

“Miguel…” you breathed but it sounded distant and it didn't fully register in his mind. His focus was solely on the straps that fell completely off both arms, the dress slipped off the top now exposing your breasts. Watching them grow along with your belly made Miguel’s libido flare.

Carefully, he cupped his hand over one, grazing his thumb over the hardened nipple. He knew you were more sensitive now so he handled your chest with care. The barest touch would have you whimpering. He heard your groans as he kept fondling with your breast, a sharp exhale leaving your lips.

Gentle.

He watched your dress loosely cling over your swollen stomach. He knew it wasn’t going to fall to the floor so he tugged the fabric and pulled it over your head before he lifted your bare body on the countertop.

“¡Ay Miguel! Not here. I just cleaned the counter.” You scolded lightly, but the grip you had on his biceps contradicted your protest. You wanted it as much as he did.

“I’ll clean up the mess after. Just let me have you now.” He was already tugging your undies, feeling the pool of your arousal staining the fabric.

“You’re unbelievably needy, you know that?” You watched him as he kneeled down to reach your cunt, your belly now blocking your view.

“I don’t see you complaining, querida.” He purposely breathed heavily over your clenching cunt, making sure you felt the hot air from his mouth in an attempt to tease you. Your hand feebly reached around to his hair, running your fingers over his locks in a silent plea to continue. Your other hand leaned against the counter behind you.

His tongue ran over your folds before reaching your swollen clit. He attached his mouth and started sucking on the sensitive bud, keeping a firm grip on your thighs. You tasted different now compared to when he ate you out before he knocked you up. Slightly sweeter than before. He could feel you tugging on his lock and attempting to pull him in closer to your cunt. But he was more firm and he wanted to take his time with you.

As he pulled away, a few strings of saliva were connected from your fold to his lips that he quickly wiped away. His cock was painfully hard behind his digital suit and he was sure you already noticed.

With a few taps on his watch, his suit disengaged, each pixel fizzled out in cobweb shapes.

Both your elbows rested on the counter as you locked your gaze onto him. He loomed over you, hands on the counter and leaning in before his lips found yours. The kiss was soft and sweet but carried a depth of emotions. He felt your swollen belly press against his torso as he leaned in closer, deepening the kiss. Breaking away from your lips, his gaze fixated on you as he brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

So soft.

He held onto your waist and pulled you in until his cock was inches from your cunt. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip and twitching in anticipation. Slowly, he pushed himself in and felt your walls caress each inch of him. You were already throwing your head back, one hand gripping onto his arm to steady yourself.

He could feel every pulse from his cock rubbing against your silky walls and flesh, squeezing him just right. Your body swayed helplessly over the countertop, taking in every thrust from his hips. He groaned as he was lost in a haze, completely aroused by how your wet cunt was pulling him back in greedily with each withdrawal.

Finally with his peak crawling up to him, he made sure he reached in deep, but not too much that he’ll hurt you. He felt a sudden rush from his cock as his seeds spilled inside of your swollen womb, reaching every crevice and coating your walls.

With a shaky breath, he pulled out of your dripping hole. As expected, his seeds didn’t stick, instead leaked out of your folds, spilling onto the counter. The post-nut clarity he was experiencing nearly made him forget his promise of cleaning up his mess.

“See why it wasn’t a good idea fucking me on the counter.” You quipped, smearing your fingers over his cum that continued to spill from your folds. Miguel groaned, his senses were coming back to him now and he could feel the newfound frustration settling in.

“Cállate.” He mumbled while grabbing the wet wipes from the shelf. “You’re lucky I had to be gentle with you, amor” he lowered himself and kissed your thigh before cleaning up the surface.

“Next time, we’ll stick to the bed.”

[ultravi0lence14]

Lover Boy

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.5k | fluff

summary: the double life of dean winchester seemed to come out when he would be dangerous and sinister around demons, yet soft and gentle when it came to how he loved you.

dean winchester was a tough man. raised as a soldier from a young age, he grew into one of the strongest men you’ve ever encountered.

even with all of that to factor in, dean was still a complete softie at his core.

his childish love for certain things was definitely a major reason. though how he treated you definitely gave it away. dean was always looking for you in a room, never wanting to be more than two feet away from you. not getting a lot of affection as a child, dean’s love language was most definitely physical touch. the man had to have his hands on you at all times. wether that be around your waist, shoulder, thigh, or even around your middle.

don’t even get started on all the cute little pet names he called you. cheesy stuff like that never made sense to you. the notion of it all had you assuming that you’d laugh in a man’s face if he even tried to utter the word ‘babe’ to your face.

with dean, it was different. the first time he called you sweetheart, you didn’t feel the urge to giggle. actually, you felt a blush dust your cheeks and a shy smile overtake your lips. since then, the older winchester has been dabbling with all different sorts of names. you drew the line when he tried to add ‘sugar mama’ into the mix, but that was just dean.

baby, honey, angel, sunshine, you name it. dean was collecting them all like trading cards, and you seriously weren’t complaining.

on top of it all, dean was very over protective when it came to you. to dean, you were the best thing that ever happened to him. if anything ever happened to you, dean was positive he would never be able to forgive himself. so will all of his will, dean spent hunts focusing on two things — killing the monster and making sure you came out of it unscathed and wound free.

today was no different. sam had caught wind of a vamps nest down in georgia, and the two brothers weren’t against blowing off some steam and decapitating a couple of bloodsuckers.

everything was going as usual. you three scoped out the town, figuring out what the best place would be for the vampires nest. when the location was secured, you and the brothers waited until dusk. the sun was drifting down over the horizon, laying illuminating shadows over the ground as you creeped up towards the vacant barn behind dean.

both sam and dean decided that going in guns blazing would be the best option. catch some vampires by surprise and kill a couple before the real fight happened. you knew how to use a machete, and you’d beheaded a couple of vamps in the past, but dean wasn’t always so keen on you joining. his words exactly were ‘if anything happened to you i wouldn’t know what to do with myself. all i want is for you to be safe, baby.’

you understood where he was coming from, but you also knew you were fully capable killing a couple vamps without any harm. with a long hour of begging and pouting, dean finally let you tag along. his only proposition being you stayed close to him, which wasn’t a problem since you tended to do that anyway.

the three of you made it to the doors of the barn. sam didn’t wait before he swung the door open, striding towards the nearest vampire and smoothly chopping it’s head off. the fight was now in full swing. a total of six vampires had resided in this abandoned barn, leaving five more for you, sam, and dean to deal with.

you felt a tug on the back of your shirt as one of the female vampires tried to push you back. you weren’t stupid, nor incompetent when it came to fighting, so you instantly handled her blow and whirled around with a swift punch to her nose.

dean had taught you everything you needed to know about hand to hand combat. being there to help with your position and allow you to practice your at the time, feeble punches on him. there had been countless occasions where dean got sidetracked as his arms wound up around you from behind. his intentions being to help with your form, but he ended up ravishing on your soft skin instead.

your fight with the female vamp didn’t last long. after a couple of punches and attempts to throw one another onto some hay bales, you found the perfect timing to swing your machete and precisely have her head rolling. the satisfaction of the kill didn’t last long, for a gruff and aggressive hand pushed you hard in the centre of your back, sending you flying into one of the adjacent walls.

a big, burly male vampire had you cornered. he succeeded in knocking the blade out of your hand, sending it scattering across the floor and completely out of your reach. his solid face made it almost impossible for you to land a decent punch, for each time he took them with ease, a bored look on his face like he was unsatisfied with your feeble attempts to fight him off.

in a last minute effort, you mustered all your strength and pushed him as hard as you could. it didn’t work, for he just grabbed the back of your head and smashed your forehead against a wooden support beam. drowsiness was taking over, and you could feel his thick fingers wrap around your neck as consciousness started to slip away from your body.

accepting your demise, you just let him have it, knowing there was no way in hell you could fight him now. though to your luck, like an angel coming down from heaven to save you, dean winchester came into view behind the man’s shoulders. his face was set in a murderous glare, arm reaching for the back of the vamps neck as he forcefully pulled him off of you.

weak from the beating, your limp body fell to the ground. as you supported yourself against the wooden beam, you watched as dean completely ditched his machete and resorted to pummeling the vampire to a bloody pulp. dean didn’t want his death to be quick, he wanted to inflict as much pain on this vile creature as he had on you. with an unfiltered rage, dean completely wailed on the vamps face, leaving no room for him to fight back.

“how does it feel, huh? getting exactly what you gave. think you can hurt my girl like that? you’re lucky i don’t string you up and bleed you dry.” his words slightly frightened you, but you knew dean would never lean towards such gruesome acts of violence. in his rage, dean sometimes completely lost control of what he would say. allowing people to become slightly afraid of what he was capable of.

the feeling of sam’s comforting hands directed your attention away from dean’s brutal assault. the sweet man was making sure you weren’t badly injured. checking if you had a concussion or if the wound on your forehead would need stitches or not. as sam started gingerly touching the already blossoming bruise on your neck, you watched as dean grabbed his blade and crushed it down into the vampires neck. completely detaching it from his body and killing him for good.

like a switch had flipped in his brain, you watched as dean quickly put his machete into his sheath and dart over to you. sam’s voice letting you two know that he was going to grab the impala was completely drowned out as dean’s rugged yet gentle hands grasped your face. he moved it side to side, inspecting to see how badly that vamp had hurt you.

“oh sweetheart,” he mumbled, wincing as he noticed the gash on your forehead. “you’re okay. i’m here baby, i’m right here.” his voice soothed you, yet the aches and pains radiating through your head and still tender neck had you whimpering, sticky tears starting to collect on your cheeks.

leaning into dean’s hand, you let your first sob break free from your lips. “dean.” you mumbled, trying to get your words out through the lump in your throat and choked sobs. “it hurts. it hurts so bad.” the look on dean’s face could’ve broken down the strongest of men. he looked so distraught. almost as though the pain you were experiencing was finding a way to attach itself to his own body.

in a way, it was kind of just like that. dean seeing you in pain brought him pain. he would rather experience any form of hellish torture than watch you suffer.

caressing your cheek one last time, dean moved his arms around the back of your knees and shoulder. he picked you up bridal style, slowly walking his way towards sam and the impala. “i know baby, you are going to be just fine.” he whispered, relishing in the way your head snuggled into his chest. “i’m going to make you feel all better. i swear.”

the ride back to the motel was filled with sam’s frantic worrying and dean’s hushed voice assuring you on your recovery. he opted to sit in the backseat with you, resting your head on his lap while softly stroking your hair, smoothing it down away from the cut on your forehead.

as sam rolled in front of the motel, you heard as he told dean he would run to the nearest store and get some food, knowing you’d be hungry after everything that just happened. from the impala to the motel room bed, everything was a blur. the only thing you slightly remember is dean carrying you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you that everything would be fine.

placing you gently onto the bed, you watched as dean got up to go grab the first aid kit. his frame was becoming a little blurry as you felt yourself slipping into sleeps comforting clutches. dean’s hands softly shaking you and propping you to sit upright on the bed had your eyes reopening. his eyes held a gentle glint, yet somewhere in the mix, a cloud of panic and worry moved over it.

“cmon honey, stay awake for me.” his voice caressed your ears with a soft, gentle kiss that made you smile. yet at the same time, you could hear the underlying tones of panic and worry. dean was scared for you, and dean being genuinely scared was not something a lot of people saw.

you just smiled at him, moving your one hand so it was delicately placed on his knee. “i’m fine, dean. i’m right here, alive and breathing. nothing to worry about.” you could tell that your words eased him a little, but as his fingers lightly grazed your bruised neck, the worry rolled back onto him like a tidal wave. “fuck your neck. i let this happen to you, i am so so sorry-“

the feeling of your pointer finger coming over his lips stopped dean mid sentence, his stunned face in your direct eyesight as you gave him the most intense serious face you could muster. “i don’t want to be hearing any of that. you did your best, dean. you were busy fighting the others, and i had him until he turned my head into a whack-a-mole mallet.” your words had a slight laugh bubbling in dean’s lips, making your smile brighten. “none of this is your fault. blame the vamp. who thanks to you, is now as dead as ever.”

furrowing his brows and crinkling his eyes, dean mumbled to himself something he thought you didn’t hear. but you did. you always did when it came to dean. “he’s lucky that’s all i did.” dean’s blatant protective behaviour towards you made you feel comforted. yes you could take care of yourself, but it was nice to have that extra watchful eye every once and a while.

a quiet hum settled over the room as dean tended to the cut on your forehead. his hand lightly held your face, making sure you stood still. he also wanted an excuse to touch you, for your face was probably the most beautiful thing dean winchester had ever laid his eyes on.

“there we go baby, all done”. dean said as he put away the first aid kit. when the eldest winchester turned back to face you, your eyes watched as he gingerly grabbed your face. he didn’t want to hurt you, and your heart couldn’t feel more full because of it. with both hands clasping your face, he placed his lips on your temple, leaving a delicate kiss over the bandaged scrape.

he then moved to your eyelids, kissing each one as he envisioned your beautiful coloured eyes looking back at him. long lashes decorating them as you stared up into his own eyes. next he kissed both of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, and finally, dean left a soft, feather like kiss upon your lips.

dean kissed you as if you were made of glass. he was so worried of hurting you, making sure that whatever he did didn’t push on your wounds at all.

“i love you so much.” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours. so much so that your lips were still basically touching. “when i saw him hurting you, i felt something in me shatter. i don’t know what i’d do without you, sweetheart.” his words struck right into your heart, giving you such a feel of warmth that it spread throughout your whole body.

bringing your lips softly to dean’s cheek, you too left a feather light kiss on his cheek bone. voice vibrating off the surface as you couldn’t find yourself to move away. “i love you too dean. so much more than you could ever imagine.”

both you and dean’s declarations of love brought forth something into your relationship. a sense of love, hope, and security. you knew that dean would always be there to protect you, and dean knew that you would always be there to bring him down. rationalize his brain with comforting words when he needed them most.

the love you two shared was pure. something driven from fresh snow directly fallen from the sky. as the two of you laid down on the bed, you wondered how it was that you got so lucky with a man like dean. a man who loved so deeply and so ardently that it spilled out of his pores.

dean winchester was the man you were sure you would spend the rest of your life with. and as he molded your body with his, hand on the back of your head and making sure you two were as close as possible, you realized that there was nothing to worry about.

for dean would always be there for you, and always love you like it was his way of breathing.

[planetpedri]

hii!!! How are you?? Could you please write smth with angest to fluff for Pau Cubarsi?🙏🙏🥰 Thank you!!

Center of gravity — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Pau had broken up a year ago, but somehow every time he’s stressed, he finds that you are the only thing that can ground him.

Word count: 1.0K

Disclaimer/s: Stressed(ish)!Pau so angst to comfort/fluff

A/N: Hiii!! I’m quite exhausted myself but good nonetheless! thank you for asking <3 I’m making my way through my requests and was listening to this song and was like omgg.

Rain splattered across your bedroom window, casting a gloomy feel across your bedroom. It had been raining on and off all day, which you usually did not mind, but for some reason you did today. You were grumpy all morning, and that only worsened as the day drew to an end.

You had finally gotten home from class, showered, ate dinner, and gotten comfortable in bed when your phone pinged. Picking it up, you exhaled slowly. The name ‘Pau’ lit up your phones screen. He’d had just as bad of a day, or seemingly worse (you assumed), considering he was texting you late at night. Like always.

Quickly typing back, you give him the go-ahead to come to your house. Your parents were out of the country for their anniversary, but even if they were home, they wouldn’t have cared.

Pau and you had broken up nearly a whole year ago, but even then, you stayed in contact. He visits, has meals with your parents while he waits for you to get home, ect. Your house was just as much Pau’s as it was yours since you’d grown up together.

Even then, the breakup still hurt. He was busy, never had time for you, the list goes on. Though, you two still valued each other as friends, and hopefully one day, you could progress past that again.

Lost deep within your thoughts, you don’t hear the door open and close or the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. You only realize he was there when your door cracks open and he says through a tired voice, “you decent?”

Jumping slightly, you let out a hmph. You sit up straight on your bed, scooting to make space for him. “Yep!”

Pau walks into your bedroom, shrugging off his wet hoodie before joining you on the bed. He doesn’t say a word until he’s laid down beside you, his arms looping around your waist as he lays his head on your stomach. “Hey.” He sighs out and you can already tell he’s burnt out, although from what.. you couldn’t be sure.

“Hey.” You hum, fingers finding their way to his hair, brushing a few strands away from his eyes. “Your hair is getting long again.”

You feel a slight upturn of Pau’s lips against your stomach, making a smile grow on your own face. “I kind of prefer it longer, but if you say I need a cut..”

“I did not say I didn’t like it.” You chuckle, twirling of piece of his hair around your finger. “So..” You weren’t sure how to approach the topic, so you trail off, wanting him to start it rather than have you grasp at straws.

Pau lifts his head up to look at you, his eyes fluttering slowly and you watch the way his long, thick eyelashes briefly kiss cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it, tell me about your day.” He almost whispers, his eyes too busy flickering around your face with a hint of uncertainty flashing across them.

“My day was shit, but it’s better now.” You smile, tilting your head onto your shoulder as you meet his gaze. “What’d you do today?”

“Practice, practice, more practice, went home to do homework, did said homework, then…” He licks his lips, “yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

You knew he didn’t want to talk about what was troubling him, but you wanted to know. There was something different in the way he was holding you today, there was something hidden beneath his tired eyes when he looked at you, something you couldn’t recognize but it made you feel warm inside.

“Sounds tiring.” You finally reply, shifting around so Pau wasn’t resting against you at an awkward angle anymore.

“It was.” He murmurs, his hand trailing under your shirt to rest on your hip. He proceeded to draw miscellaneous shapes on it, his eyes solely focused on his doodling.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face, despite how hard to tried to stop it. Memories of nights where you and Pau would skip out on fancy dates just to cuddle together, all the nights he found his solace in your warm embrace. In a way, it made you feel sick. Like this was how it was meant to be, but something was stopping you from achieving it again.

Pau’s doodles stop, causing your eyes to flicker to him in protest. You find he was already looking at you, his eyes soft and bright despite the fact that your room was only lit by a dull lamp on your bedside. “What?” You ask, reaching up to move another stray strand of his hair.

“I missed you extra today.” He shrugs, “I’m just thankful you let me come over, that’s all.”

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, and you didn’t bother to hide your smile this time. “I miss you extra all the time.”

A small laugh escapes Pau’s lips, his head dipping down to hide his face in the crook between your waist and arm, where he placed a small kiss on the exposed flesh of your inner forearm. “We’re so extra in general.”

By now, you’re laughing too. The situation was all too ironic. Ex’s who see each other when they need someone to lean on, ex’s who occasionally eat dinner with each other’s families, ex’s who cuddle, ex’s who say things couples say. Ex’s, who are still so obviously in love.

Pau’s head lifts to catch a glimpse of your laughing face, one he’d always adored, and he realizes if he just leaned in a little closer…

“That’s a bad idea.” You point at him, recognizing the look of longing. Your finger was mere centimeters from his face and the only thing separating the distance. But you’re not saying no, you would never say no. At least not to him.

Pau pushes your hand away from his face, “probably.” He whispers. Despite both of your words, both of you lean into each other, lips colliding in a long awaited reunion.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[petalsonmoon]

you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

"it's ridiculous." then he leaned his body foward, his fingers meeting his toes. an elongation you would take embarrasingly months to be able to do that flawlessly.

"and really fucking stupid" he proceeds his thoughts.

"oh please, do go on." you look down to your notes and continue to write your ridiculous ideas.

the sun was far too bright and where its glow met the leaves of the large number of trees around you they were gleaming, like they were immensely happy.

"i hope your little notebook accidently burns to ashes."

"kind of you to say accidently."

"yeah no problem at all"

you glance up to find that he has his knee bended to his chest and quickly look back to the pen in your hand. quite misteriously your hands are stained from it.

"you making the walking sleeping bag one too?" his voice is raspy and angry and very clear. how does he sound so good while doing post training stretching?

perhaps you're looking too much into it. your crush makes you a bit giddy, idiotic in a lot of senses. makes you feel a child just like the word itself is infant. crush.

you sigh heavyly.

"still deciding" you draw a little explosion on the corner of the page.

"might as well do it for class b too."

"if i got a penny for every dramatic sentence that came out of your mouth-"

he had his back to you but he insisted on turning his head to you to send you the most chilling glare for exactly 3 seconds. that's his stupidity. his eyes were already too pretty in your eyes for you to feel an ounce of that anger.

"-only today i'd have like," you scrunch your nose "the amount of money equivalent to the ferocity of all might's powers."

he doesn't bother to look at you again and you smile.

"would you look at that. i should look for the person with this quirk."

he growls. loud. and you're smile is genuine.

he sits up straight, his back to you and starts leisurely move his neck. that's the sign he's almost done.

"putting too much money for those idiots.”

"it's not that much" you reason. "don't feel that way for too long, you're getting one too."

with that, it's over.

he turns to you and when those red eyes meet yours the trees are for sure shinning somewhat brighter.

the response for your affirmation it's a furrow between his eyebrows. his skin glowing a bit but that's not your absurd heart speaking, it's just his sweat.

"uhum" now you're messing with the grass. it estabilizes you. "yours is actually the only one that i drew and painted myself. the other ones i made with suna from the support course"

an ant crawled into your point finger.

"but don't tell them that." you whisper.

the ant made it to your pulse when you feel a literal body falling on top of you.

"you motherfucker! you are drenched-"

"that shitty little brain of yours-" his face on your neck. his words and breathing warming your whole body. you are exploding on the inside. how ironic.

"-and your stupid handmade keychains for the whole class" and then he lighly bites where your neck meets your shoulder.

his hands trails your arms, his fingers are burning pathways in your skin until they meet your hands and they interlock with your fingers. then he finally lifts his head and looks at you and what you're feeling is something words can't understand.

"i was gonna wait unti graduation."

"tomorrow, you mean."

he bites your chin and you're so fucking certain you'll melt any second now. "because of that fucking tone i'm going to burn all of your little gifts."

you smile at him trying to match his damn audacity. his charm? his mind blowing handsomeness? "i'll murder you."

you blink and feel his breath on your neck again. "do it now, cupcake." then. his maddening warm and soft lips leaves a kiss under your earlobe. you close your eyes. "you have the power to."

"don't wait until tomorrow."

he lifts his head again and there's a smirk with a softness in the corner of it on his face. "or?"

"i might die." you whisper. it is serious to you. you need his lips on yours this very second. with his eyes on yours, telling you every adoration you thought about him for the last couple of months before going to bed, you think might. actually. die.

"who's the dramatic one now, brat?"