#I may be thick skulled
weigh-in: 75.8 kg (⬇️ 0.1 kg)
2.45pm: custom subway footlong
crisps, coke zero
total: not stressing about it today/1,000 kcal
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Daily reminder to myself that I’m allowed to like things. Like, I’m allowed to watch, read and draw things and not have to feel guilty about it. Sure, the content I’m consuming isn’t perfect and yes it has flaws but that doesn’t mean I can’t like it. People are allowed to criticize and point out the flaws and I shouldn’t immediately feel bad for liking the thing in the first place.
I’m allowed to like what I like. One day the interest will pass but it makes me happy now by providing some laughs and entertainment. Nothing is perfect, content can be scuffed but I can still enjoy it
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I mean..... To be fair, people have essentially been harassing GF ever since the announcement, so I can’t really blame them for being so blunt about it. They can be aware of who everyone’s favorite Pokémon is either! For all they know it could be Lumineon or something. I interpreted it as them simply reassuring fans that all Pokémon are here to stay, just not for this game. Even if you’re fav isn’t in this one, you can always adapt and use them in old one until new ones come out. But that’s me
Harassment is awful and I don't think it's right, but I do not like the fact GF told everyone to wait until the next pokemon game for a POSSIBILITY that's not set in stone. Dangling that as a possible incentive to purchase future games.
This issue is very easy to fix for a company as rich in resources as they are. A post launch patch is a good remedy for the Switch nowadays than on the 3DS, but it's not even a consideration.
I'm no longer going to be answering asks about this matter.
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When you receive a little gift form your mom following a tiny letter and she writes she'd talked to your dad and heard you're not doing so well mentally and THEN proceeds to ask me not to shut her out of my life and like BISH!!! You're a huge reason I'm not doing so well and I have no interest sharing what's going on in my life with you unless I meet you in person and you ask me directly kindly stfu and don't Word it Like That
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i tried to talk to Yasu and be his friend, but that is like trying to be friends with an evil snail.
“Eh? An evil snail? I’ve never heard that before... Well, we aren’t too close, but... if you want to be his friend, it’s more use to show him than to tell him. He hears things with his own twist on them sometimes and... well. Then he likes to argue. And yell.”
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It’s Vaporwave, not Lofi, and no one can convince me otherwise.
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Just when things seem to be Okay my idiot fucking brain has to find something else to get stressed about
Okay so I'm researching how to kiss my girlfriend and um. Why did they draw this like this
It's supposed to be the flirting step but she looks so deeply uncomfortable
Gemini Feed* — Armin Arlert
Pairing: Dom! Armin x Sub! Reader
Word count: 6k
Content: Modern! AU, OOC! Armin, Established Relationship, Armin being mean, Prediscussed Safe Word
Content Warnings: Smut/ Nsfw 18+ (Dom/ Sub Dynamics, S&M, Dacryphilia, Breeding Kink, Choking, Size Kink, Degradation/ Praise, Begging, Slight Bondage, Marking, Impact Play, Squirting)
Summary: Armin Arlert has always been a kind person, but behind closed doors it's an entirely different story.
minors can read, but please don't interact (like, comment, reblog)
you knew you were in for it when armin's hand came to rest at the nape of your neck as he stood behind you as you sat. his hand cupped around it, his thumb resting right over your heartbeat. you could see him out of the corner of your left eye.
to anyone else, this scene would be rather innocent. but what they don't see is the his other four fingers etching their nails into the skin on the back of your neck that’s covered by your hair. that's how you knew.
your breath has caught in your throat and a twinge of arousal courses through your body. armin’s hand is warm and sturdy against your neck, his hold has a possessive undertone to it, but you don’t mind.
armin continues on his conversation like nothing, contributing and smiling like normal as he traces patterns with his thumb. there wasn’t a hint of visible aggravation on him, not even after what jean said.
it was a childish joke that you now regret laughing at due to armin’s reaction to it. it was something that sexualized you in the slightest and if it wasn’t for the sheer humor of it you could’ve found it offensive, you know armin surely did.
only you could notice the flit of anger that passes through his eyes whenever jean speaks.
his hand is still strong against your neck as the two of you get up to leave. you may be walking in front of him, but his arm was guiding you and pushing you gently out the door and into the passenger seat of his car.
as much as you hate to see him upset, there was something about the clenching of his jaw and fists and the narrowing of his eyes that has you weak in the knees. his knuckles are white as he curls his fingers around the steering wheel, the veins in his hands and forearms protruding from the pressure.
“he say’s anything like that again and i’ll kill him.” armin spits, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of eren’s driveway.
you want to believe that he isn’t serious, but you know he very much is. armin doesn’t fuck around when it comes to you.
“it was a joke, it’s alright.” you smile softly, placing a gentle hand to his closest forearm. you can feel the muscles flex underneath your fingers as he grips the wheel.
“it’s not, it's fucking disgusting. and you thought it was funny.” he drops the arm you hold to place the hand on your thigh.
“it was a good joke. i promise if it wasn’t so good i - i wouldn’t have laughed.” you struggle to form a coherent sentence, his fingers that tickle the sensitive skin on your inner thigh has your brain all foggy. you’re suddenly are very thankful you decided to wear a skirt.
“i don't care. you can’t encourage him like that.” he gives your leg a loving squeeze before returning to the wheel.
“armin,” you giggle, “you’re being ridiculous.”
“why are you defending him?”
“im not i just think —”
“'think' what, y/n? was he right? are you just a dumb slut, no brain in your skull... just a pretty face?” he asks, his tone just bordering demeaning.
you shut your mouth at his comment, knowing better than to argue with him. because in the end, he really was right. he always was right. he was just looking out for you.
“hm?” his hand returns to your thigh, “what do you think, pretty girl?”
“im not.” you mumble.
“im not.” you repeat, a little louder.
he just wants the best for you. he wants you to get it through your pretty head that you’re more than just your face and body... to him and to everyone else. you had a brain in that head, a smart one at that.
“you’re not what?” he teases, pinching the skin on the inside of your thigh just enough to hurt slightly.
“im not a dumb slut.” you’re embarrassed, cheeks heating up as you fiddle with your hands awkwardly.
armin chuckles. then, his hand comes up to your jaw. he grips your face tightly as he turns your head to face him.
“no, you’re not. but don’t think i can’t make you one.” he turns his head every other word to keep his eyes on the road as he speaks to you.
his words fly straight south, just further confirming your earlier thoughts. when he got like this, all protective and possessive, you always were in for a good time. so good sometimes, that you’ve even considered pissing him off yourself.
your mouth drops open when he removes his hand from your jaw and back to the wheel.
the rest of the ride home is quiet, tension thick in the air. both of you were painfully aroused. armin couldn’t help but let his mind wander, thinking about all the disgusting things he would do with you once you’re home. and you the same, preparing to take whatever he has to throw at you.
his hand is in yours for the walk from the parking lot to your apartment building. his grip is tight, fingertips pressing into the back of your hand as if he's afraid you'll get pulled away from him.
his hold on you only loosens when you both step into the elevator in the lobby.
"when we get upstairs... i want you sitting nice and pretty on our bed for me, can you to that sweet girl?" he asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
his pretty blue eyes look down into yours, his pupils are blown wide with lust as his lips turn into a soft smile. his expression was such a contrast to his words, he looks so sweet and so innocent... but you know better.
you give him a little nod in response, shifting your hand around in his to squeeze back.
you're relieved when the elevator door opens on your floor, the anticipation was making you jittery and you didn't know how much longer you'd be able to last in the confined space pressed up next to him.
he opens the door for you and lets you enter your flat first. sheepishly, you hook your bag onto the hanger beside the door and make your way to your shared bedroom.
armin gets lost behind you, sidetracking and stopping by the bathroom for some items you know the exact purpose of.
you slip your shoes off beside the dresser before shaking of your jacket, shirt, and skirt, then taking a seat at the edge of the bed. your hands rest gently in your lap, knees knocked together.
armin pushes past the bedroom door, shirt off and a few things held in his hands. you watch him carefully as he sets the items atop the dresser, tucking your hair behind your ears meekly to not disturb him.
when he finally makes his way to you he takes your chin in the fingers of his right hand, tilting your face up to him as he stands before you. the fringe atop his head falls into his eyes as he looks into yours. the muscles in his chest scatter shadows over him, the warm light of the bedside lamp illuminating his figure.
"you always do what you're told... so good for me." he releases your chin to give your face two pats on your right cheek that came off a little too harshly.
you still keep your eyes on him through your lashes as your head drops.
he takes a moment to admire the scene before him: you're sitting all pretty, hands curled into your lap all submissive like, matching pink lacy undergarments covering the most intimate parts of you, dipping up and over the curves of your body that armin loves so much.
as submissive as you were in this moment, you were collected. he couldn’t see a glint of fear behind those pretty eyes. you’re controlled, together... and he wanted to fucking wreck that.
then, his hand has a strong grip on your jaw, puckering your lips from the pressure, “if you want to be a dumb slut, then you’re going to be treated like one.”
he releases your head roughly before shoving on your chest so forcefully that you fall back onto the mattress. it knocked the wind out of you and before you could manage to sit up his hand was around your throat and pushing your head down into the sheets.
“and you’re going to be fucked like one.” he gets up in your face, speaking through a clenched jaw.
his body felt huge over yours, his large chest just hovering over your clothed breasts, his knees on either side of your hips as he leans over you. you were trapped in by his body and his arms, you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.
most of his weight was braced onto the hand beside your head, but just enough is put into the hand around your throat that you can feel your face pooling with blood.
armin can feel your heartbeat pounding underneath his palm, your eyes were wide and your face darkening the longer he had a hold on your throat.
as terrifying as it was to have your life in the palm of his hand, you knew you were safe. you knew that armin wouldn’t lay a finger on you if you didn’t want him to.
when he finally releases your throat, your gasp of air is cut short by his mouth on yours. you’re gulping and sputtering against his lips, trying to get your blood flowing again. both of his hands are on either side of your head as he cranes his neck down to kiss you.
you’re latching onto his muscular shoulders, nails etching into the bare flesh and feeling them flex with every tilt of his head. the kiss is all teeth and tongue, it’s vicious, feral, like a lion feasting on his prey. you were a gazelle caught in his grasp, submissive to his instincts.
his nips and licks are moved down to your jaw, teeth sinking into the fragile flesh before soothing it over with his wet and hot tongue. his breath is hot against your neck as he devours your skin.
“armin —“ you breathe, back arching up against his torso. one of his hands snakes around your waist to pull your stomach flush against his. your head falls back as he holds you up, still biting at your skin.
“you like me marking you up, sweet girl?” he asks, speaking against the base of your throat.
“yes” you whimper, your entire body twitching, trying to get more out of him.
his mouth continues to mark down your body; teeth indents, dark dark purple bruises against your skin, the saliva of his tongue glistening under the warm lighting. he drops your body back to the mattress as he reaches the tops of your breasts.
“fucking hell.” he seethes, sitting back to straddle your waist as his hands slide up your sides and to your breasts.
he squeezes them, admiring the way the plush fat consumes his fingers as he presses in. he cups the upper sides of your torso, thumbs resting over your nipples that peak through the thin fabric of the bra and just grazing his fingerpads over them ever so gently.
then he was scooting down to sit on your thighs, his face coming to your chest to poke at your nipple with his tongue while his left-hand pinches the other between his pointer finger and thumb.
you were trying to contain your squirming from beneath him, your legs bending and feet sliding against the sheets from the merciless stimulation. if you disturbed him in any sense, you knew you’d be punished for it.
with his lips still attached to your breast, he reaches behind you to unclasp the fabric. as he pulls the lacy fabric off, goosebumps scatter over your skin. the saliva that seeped through the lace and onto your nipple now runs cold with the air.
armin throws the fabric to the side and places his mouth over the neglected nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud. your hands slide up his back and rake through his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you fidget underneath him.
when his teeth rake over your raised nipple, your fingers tug on his blonde locks a little too hard for his liking. his mouth is off your chest and his left hand is in your hair as he tugs you by it to bring you to his face.
“pull my hair again, i fucking dare you.” he hisses, jerking your head around in his hands as he speaks. his grip is tight, the pull burning your scalp.
when your hand falls to your side, he lets you go. he maneuvers his body so your legs are wrapped around his waist when he kisses you softly, immediate contrast from the words and the hold he just had on you.
you cherish this gentle moment, savoring the way his tongue slides over yours and lips move with you and don’t fight against. your chest is pressed against his, still slick with spit as your skin slides against him.
his hips grind his stiff cock against your cunt, taking in the twitching of your body every time his cockhead slides across your clit.
he’s so painfully hard. his dick is leaking precum into his cargo’s, throbbing and jerking with every moan that leaves your mouth and desperate grind of your hips against his.
you’re so delectable when you allow him to use you; allow him to throw you around like a doll and stuff his fat cock into your cunt until you’re crying and limp in his hands, babbling out nonsense.
“armin, please, i —“ you whine into his mouth, taking his face into your hands and looking into his eyes as you pull him away.
“my sweet girl, what do you need?” he says, voice all sweet and saccharine again.
he was giving you whiplash. you were scared to speak, not knowing whether he’d give you everything you wanted or just slap you for asking... but that was the fun part of it. it was exciting and unpredictable, it had your body lighting up like a spark plug.
he kisses your face as you think over your words carefully. his lips press little pecks to your nose, cheeks, and forehead.
“i need — need you,” you say. you’re rather quiet with your words but it’s just loud enough so he can hear you, eyes glistening as he takes in your answer.
“yeah? what do you need? you need....” he slides his nimble fingers down the valley of your breasts and stomach, “my fingers?”
his hand slips past the waistband of your panties, tracing over the erogenous zone just above where you truly need him.
“anything, anything you give me i’ll take.” you were so desperate it was almost pathetic. he had you wrapped around his pretty little finger.
“oh?... how about,” he brings his lips to your ear as his fingers hover over your clit, “i finger your pretty cunt until you’re all ready for my cock, hm?”
his words send a shiver down your spine, your hips involuntarily bucking up into his hand. you were quite literally shaking for him, jaw quivering and legs trembling around him.
“nuh uh,” he lands a harsh smack to your clit, your body jerking in response, “don’t be greedy.”
“‘m sorry!” you cry. tears prick your vision, but not out of pain... out of desperation.
“you’re so needy, aren’t you? sweet girl...” you can feel his smirk against your cheek.
his fingers apply tender pressure to your clit before circling it slowly. the stimulation was just taking the edge off, giving you enough relief to let out a shaky exhale.
“yeah, you are. you’re such a slut for me,” he mumbles, sliding his fingers down through your slick before bringing them back up to your clit.
you’re always such a mess for him. no matter the softest or harshest of touches he gave you, you were always fucking soaked. the effect he had on you was dangerous. if his heart wasn’t as big as it was and one day he decided to grow manipulative, he could easily do it. armin could so easily become toxic and manipulative due to how obedient you are to him and how incredibly emotionally intelligent he is.
but he would never.
you were his entire world. you’re everything he could ever want. his heart was so full of love just for you that it physically hurts for him to think of anything bad happening to you. as much as he slapped you around and was rough with you, he wouldn’t do any of that if you didn’t want him to. the moment you call your safe word he stops, he’s done, he falls back into his soft and protective heart and nurtures you until it’s all okay again.
“more, please,” you’re grinding your hips against his fingers, just trying to get a little more out of him.
“oh, you’re so good asking so nicely.” he presses a tender kiss to your cheek before shifting his body so he lays on your right side, his right hand still down your panties.
your head rests beside his shoulder and when his middle finger slips inside you, you bury your face into the crook of his neck and let out a shaky moan at the sensation. your legs already felt like jelly, you were melting in his hands.
“you needed that didnt you? so desperate for me,” he speaks into the hair atop your head, voice low and gravelly, “i love the way your pussy feels, all warm and wet and so fucking tight.”
every last word he mutters flies straight to your stomach, flipping it and making you wetter and wetter, encouraging your orgasm on.
“i can never get enough of you and your perfect fucking cunt that squeezes my cock so well.”
your walls clench around his finger that pumps into them slowly, just dragging against your sweet spot before sliding back out. it was so slow but it was overwhelmingly good. every curve of his knuckles felt so delicious as they slid into you, finger curling just slightly.
you were spread out like a whore for him, your legs spread to give him more room and your head was thrown back as your hands claw at him and the sheets.
he slides in a second finger, his ring finger joining the middle one. it was only a slight stretch, nothing compared to his cock, but a cry falls past your lips as his fingers reach their hilt.
“you’ve got me so fucking hard, y/n. the entire night, all ive wanted to do was bend you over that table, push your pretty little skirt out of the way, and fuck your sloppy cunt until you’re dumb.”
armin was losing his restraint. the clenching of your cunt around his fingers and the pathetic moans that were leaving your throat had him on edge. he wanted nothing more then to fuck his fat load into you, but he needed to wait.
“oh, you like the sound of that? i felt you clench around my fingers, sweet girl. you like being a slut don’t you, being my slut.”
his words were disgusting, but you were warmed from the inside out by his words. even if he was demeaning, he never failed to make you feel special. it was funny almost, you weren’t anything short of proud to be called his slut.
that sent you over the edge. you were crying out a mess of pleas and his name as you came around his digits, whole body spasming as he fingers you through your first orgasm. your whole body was filling with warmth and energy, buzzing with need and desire.
once you’ve come down, he climbs off the bed and to the dresser. he stands there for a moment, body blocking your vision, hands shuffling around as he looks over his choices.
armin settles on the black satin scarf that was laid out all pretty for him. he took it in his fingers, feeling over the silky fabric and running it through his fingers. he tugs on it a few times, wrapping it around his wrist and pulling to make sure it’s not going to be too rough on you.
he kneels beside your weak body on the bed, trailing the fabric up and down the skin of your chest and stomach.
“turn over.” he says.
you flip onto your stomach slowly, finding just enough strength in your arms to do so. then, those same arms are pulled behind you by the wrist. the pretty black silk was wrapped around your wrists snugly and tied into a thick knot. as you lay there, completely vulnerable, his fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and slide them down your legs.
your hands momentarily drop against the base of your spine before they’re being tugged up. armin’s rough with you as he pulls you into the position he wants, pulling on your waist and pushing on your back until all your weight is on your chest and knees as you’re bent over for him
“pick a number between 10 and 20.” he says, his hands grabbing onto and running over the supple skin of your ass.
“14.” you mumble.
“alright, sweet girl. you’re getting fourteen slaps to this pretty ass and you’re counting, any other sound from your lips and i’m leaving you here for the rest of the night.”
you nod your head against the sheets as one of his hands rests steady at the base of your spin and the other smooths over your right ass cheek. when his hand slaps down, rippling the skin, you're sent forward into your face.
“o — one.” you whimper.
“that’s my girl.” he smiles, placing a kiss on the now red skin of your ass.
his hand lands another blow to your skin. a harsh sting of pain rushing through your body.
“two.” you hiss, gritting your teeth and squeezing your eyes shut.
you loved the pain. you loved it especially when he was the one giving it. it made your entire body light on fire, getting all hot and sweaty as your cunt practically drips for him. it was almost embarrassing, the way you could be reduced to a moaning mess by pain. but it wasn’t, because armin was the one giving it to you, and you knew that he loved giving it as much as you loved receiving it.
he loves the twisted expression of hurt and comfort that passes through your face with every slap of his hand. he loves the way your nose scrunches in anticipation as you feel his hand leave your ass before he slaps. and he loves the ragged cry of the number he’s on once he makes contact.
it was symbiotic. you loved the pain and he loved giving it. it was a perfect match.
“fourteen!” you cry, hot tears now streaming down your face.
armin wishes you could see yourself right now. your pretty pussy glistening with the slick arousal that drips down the fat of your thighs, chest heaving heavily as you suck in air through your teeth, ass all red and welted in the shape of his handprint. it was such a wonderful sight.
“such a good girl for me.” he mumbles against the base of your spine, just below your hands, his own hands gripping at your waist.
he continues gentle kisses down the curve of your ass, over the raised, hand-shaped welt, all the way down to land his lips against your drooling cunt. his tongue is gentle as he slides it over you, covering the entire muscle in a sheen of your arousal.
“thank you, thank you,” you babble, tears still dripping down your face as you mumble nonsense of praises.
his tongue was skilled as he devoured you from behind, flicking over your clit and slipping into your clenching hole every here and there. it had your breathing all ragged, the mix between his saliva and your arousal was such perfect lubrication for his finger that slipped inside you.
“oh — my god.” you cry, tied arms thrashing behind you and fingers flexing and clenching with every drag of the smooth muscle between your folds.
he curls his finger and uses the strength in his whole arm to send his fingertip bumping against the sweet spot inside you.
you were climbing your second orgasm and fast. your entire body was vibrating as wretched sobs rip through your throat. and then it hit you like a fucking train. you were gushing all over his fingers as well as his face, neck, and chest. the only thing keeping you upright was his arm that was now wrapped around your waist.
you were completely wrecked and he wasn’t anywhere near done with you.
armin lets you fall flat against the bed as he pushes his pants down his legs. his cock was disturbingly hard, veins protruding and head all red and angry. it slaps up against his stomach as his waistband is pulled over his hips, precum sticking to his abdomen and stringing to the slit of his cockhead.
he needed to be inside you so fucking badly.
he turns quickly to grab the bottle of lube that still rests on the dresser, taking it in his hand and squirting a generous amount over your cunt as you lay there, all fucked out.
he pulls you up again, slotting his cock between your ass cheeks as he does so. he gives a few shallow thrusts, watching the slick of the lube coat his length as you tremble from the sensation.
you were so ready for him, for his dick. so ready to feel his entire fat fucking cock inside you and splitting your little cunt open with every thrust.
“tell me how bad you want it,” he says, teasing your hole with the head of his cock.
“so — so bad — want it so bad. i need it.” you plead pushing your ass against him just to get any of it to slip inside.
“you’re such a disgusting fucking whore aren’t you.” he mumbles, more to himself then you. it was almost said in a laugh as if he found your desperation funny, “look at your sloppy little cunt begging for me.
before you could say anything else, his cock was pressing into you, head slipping into you pussy.
you always forget how big he is. armin was fucking hung. it always was a painful stretch when he first fits himself inside you, not only was it a stretch but you could quite literally feel him rearranging your guts.
“fucking christ, look at that.” he chuckles, watching the way your drooling pussy sucks in his cock, hole stretching around the girth of him.
and you were so warm and so tight for him that once he was balls deep he had to pause. as difficult as the first stroke was, it was the second that had his cock twitching and balls threatening to empty.
“’ so big.” you sob, your hair falling into your face as you thrash around before him.
“yeah, i know. but you love it, dont you?” he teases, reaching over to push your hair away from your eyes.
you could feel the head of him bumping against your cervix as you wiggled your hips around.
“yes, ‘love it so much. i love your cock.” you whisper, voice all strained, looking into his beautiful blue eyes as he smiles down to you.
“yeah, i know you do.” he gives your head a shove into the sheets before coming back upright.
starting slow, he pulls his length out of you, staring at the way you stretch around every thickening and thinning of his cock. your mouth falls open as he pulls himself through you.
he knows you love the pain of the stretch, but he’s starting slow for himself. he was inches away from cumming inside you, for the first part, and secondly, he wanted to savor the way your breath gets caught in your throat.
“please. please fuck me.” you beg, you couldn’t do anything other than that. he still had your arms tied behind your back and you weren’t strong enough to overpower him even on a good day.
“enough.” he gives your abused ass yet another slap, “you move and im going to cum inside you, and i know damn well you dont want a fucking child.”
you know he meant to scare you, but he actually did anything but that. the image of him filling you with his cum as your heart thumping sporadically. the mentioning of kids while his cock is deep inside you sends your pussy fluttering around him.
“a — armin.” you say weakly.
“you’re driving me insane, don’t tell me you want that...” he seethes, but my god does he want it to.
“want it.” you shut your eyes, waiting for a slap, a thrust... anything.
“fuck — y/n... ‘m gonna fuck you so good.” he spits, “gonna fuck a child into you.”
this gets him going. this gets his hips starting a pace of slapping against your ass. his biceps strain as you bounce off his hips, his jaw slacked and sweat slicked hair falling into his face.
pathetic moans fall past your lips as he fills you over and over again, pulling all the way out before sheathing himself to the hilt.
the overly possessive part of him was taking over. he was so determined to have his cum coating your cervix. he wanted you to be stuck with him, he wanted you to be stuck with his child.
the marking, the biting, the hickies... they never could equate to this. he realizes that this is what he’s been missing. he’s missed the feeling of your cum drenched walls milking his cock continuously, despite never getting it before. he’s missed the thought of you getting pregnant, despite it never happening.
his hold on your hips was bruising as he continued, picking up his pace and fucking into you mercilessly. you were jolting forward with his every thrust. the slick of the lube and your cunt were dripping all over your ass and thighs, his stomach and his thighs, making a disgustingly lewd sound as he slapped himself against you.
you could barely feel your arms as he tugged you upright, pulling your back to his chest with a painful arch in your spine. you had no energy to keep your head upright, it just fell right back onto his shoulder. one of his hands remained wrapped around your connected wrist while the other came up your chest and to your throat, holding his lips against your ear.
“’m gonna cum so deep inside you that there's no fucking way you won’t be pregnant.” he rasps, “gonna fill you up so nice that i’ll be dripping down your thighs.”
he’s only egging you on, encouraging your orgasm once more. he doesn’t even know the effect he has on you. he’s got your brain in a fog, the only thought on your mind is him, him, him.
“fill me up, please. ‘want it, i want it all.” you croak, just enough air slipping past his palm to keep you moaning.
“yeah?” he was close, your answer was going to tip him over.
“yes. cum inside me. breed me.”
and so he does.
as your release spills around him, he buries himself as deep as he possibly can and cums hard. he was filling you up, turning your entire body warm as you milk his cock.
his groan was deep and loud in your ear, raspy and broken and just your name.
you’ve never felt so needed before in your entire life. you revel in the feeling of his panting chest against your back, his fat cock pulsing inside you as he cums in thick and hot spurts, the feeling of his cheek pressed against yours as your heads rest on each other’s shoulders. you felt so incredibly close to him.
“i love you.” he pants, finally empty of everything he has. his breath fanning over your shoulder as he rests his forehead upon it. he releases your neck.
through broken gasps you manage to say, “i love you too.”
and when the two of you have finally come down for your ecstasy, he unties your wrists.
he’s gentle and tender when he massages out your numb arms, smoothing lotion over your red and bruised wrists. he’s careful when he picks you up and carries your exhausted body over to the bathroom, kneeling in front of you with a goofy smile. and he’s merciful as he brushes out your matted hair, aided by the hot water of the shower.
he cleans the sweat and release off your body, presses loving kisses to your skin that he toyed with enough to leave marks. you were smiley throughout the whole thing, giggling as he insisted that he would wash your hair for you.
and when he wrapped you up in a towel and carried you back over to the bed that he once was so demeaning and ruthless on... you smile. because the two sides of him are everything you’ve ever wanted.
JUNISFICS © 2021
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test drive : V
featuring venom x reader (f)
rating NSFW / MINORS DNI
content warning slight dub con, pretty much all smut, overstimulation and double penetration
summary you’re used to venom, as you’ve been sleeping with eddie pretty frequently. however, venom has always wanted to take you for a test drive
word count 3k / one shot
attention not proofread, this is an older fic that i am posting from my former patreon, so it may not match my current writing style. do not translate or repost my works ever. full stop. reblog and leave feedback, pretty please! muah 💋
“Hey, you know what, I’m sorry about the, uh-” Eddie gestures to the darkening marks against your skin. they litter your neck in the form of hickeys, and spiderweb over your waist and hips in bruising hand prints. not all his. you’d known about Venom for a long time, even learned to deal with his hefty appetite turning your favorite friend to fuck into an insatiable beast in the bedroom. sometimes, it even excited you, how incredibly sticky the situation could be.
your swollen tiers crack into a smile and you shift on your heels, snaking your arms around him to pull yourself up in his mouth’s waiting embrace. your lips meet in a gentle union, and your purr is lost in his throat, your engine roaring at the physical contact regardless of just coming down from a ferocious orgasm. your lips ache from the fierce kisses from before, but somehow the gentle scrape of his five o’clock shadow is soothing against your cheek. “It’s okay, you know I’m a big girl, I don’t break so easy.” with a playful wink when you break the kiss, your tongue darts out to taste him on your mouth. “Besides, Venom is fun sometimes.”
that look comes over his face. the expression that gives it away, and then a roll of his eyes. you simper, intrigued and curious. “What did he say?”
“He’s gloating because you like him,” Eddie pauses, then scoffs. “Absolutely fucking not, you psychopath. Wha- no, why would I apologize for that? You can’t- no, fuck no.” his tone turns completely on it’s head, and it’s almost concerning.
“What’s wrong?” your own voice reflects your trepidation. “What’s he saying now, Eddie? What does he want?”
“Nothing, nothing. Either way it’s not fucking happening.” Brock takes a deep breath and shakes out sweaty tendrils close cropped to his skull, running a thick palm through them. “Listen, we’re gonna go before this lunatic gets anymore impossible ideas-”
“YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK HER.”
a ripple of fear practically vibrates your spine when you hear Venom’s voice. it wasn’t that you hadn’t heard it before, or witnessed him forming from between Eddie’s shoulder blades, undulating as he curls over his clavicle, a mass of inky black and jagged teeth. you’d even seen his full transformation, when he overtook Eddie’s body every so often. however, he rarely cut into conversations like this. your heartbeat skids for a moment, and you suck in a breath, suddenly too scared to keep your lungs working autonomously.
“How does that make me a pussy?” Eddie countered, eyebrows furrowing as he glared the symbiote in the eyes. they’d spent so much time together, Eddie wasn’t even frightened of Venom, or the least bit intimidated. you, on the other hand, were frozen in place. “What you want is crazy, it’s not gonna happen. If you like her as much as you say you do, you wouldn’t even suggest something so fucking dangerous.”
“Boys?” you cut in, quirking a brow as you take a step back from the scene before you. you rest your hands on your hips. “What’s going on? Venom?”
the conglomeration of raven goo turns it’s attention on you, extension of the matter in the form of lips curling over razor sharp spikes dripping with drool forming a Cheshire Grin. “I ONLY SUGGESTED EDDIE LEAVE ME HERE FOR THE NIGHT.”
you’re dumbfounded, lips parted slightly, and you look to Eddie for an answer. he heaves a heavy sigh and shrugs. “I told you, it was fuckin’ bonkers. And it’s not happening, buddy, we’re both leaving her tonight. Let’s go before she calls the cops on us.”
“NO WE ARE NOT.” the definitive nature of Venom’s snarl is frightening, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, rolling it between your teeth as you take another step back.
“Why do you want to stay here, anyways, Venom?” you’re perplexed; unable to grasp why he would want to spend the night with you, or how he planned on surviving without Eddie. then, it hits you all at once. “Wait a minute. You want to… Get inside me?”
“PRECISELY.” the extraterrestrial menace seems to look you up and down, and you feel goosebumps breaking the surface of your skin with everywhere his pupilless eyes travel. “YOU ARE SUCH A TASTY, LITTLE MORSEL AND I BELIEVE THE TWO OF US COULD HAVE A LOT OF FUN. DON’T WE ALREADY?” your face flushes a generous cherry and you hug your own arm, sheepish and completely unsure if you’re flattered or frightened. “THINK ABOUT IT, MY SWEET TREAT, IN A NIGHT’S TIME, I COULD SHOW YOU A WORLD OF UNTAPPED PLEASURE THAT YOU COULDN’T EVEN IMAGINE.”
you couldn’t deny that the very idea has you pooling in your panties, no matter how badly you would like to hide it.
Venom’s rumbling guttural hum of a voice vibrates somewhere deep in your guts when he speaks again. “I CAN ALREADY SMELL YOUR AROUSAL. SHE ONLY GETS THIS WET IF I’M INVOLVED, BY THE WAY.” he’s practically bragging as he curls around to face his counterpart once more. the shift of his features suggest that, if he had eyebrows, they would be raised higher than usual to display amusement. Eddie looks to you, as if expecting you to deny the claim, but you couldn’t, so you flashed him a bashful smile. you’d make it up to him another time. “LEAVE ME HERE, EDDIE. JUST FOR TONIGHT.”
“No.” Eddie turns on his heels, taking a couple of heavy steps towards the roadside. “Goodnight,” the way he calls your name snaps you back to reality and out of the trance Venom seemingly had you in. you force a smile, and wave. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s go find some eats.”
Venom snarls, an angry growl emanating from the morphing ink as it wraps itself around Eddie’s throat. you’d never seen him do that before, and your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat. “Venom!” it sounds as if you’re scolding a child, but this is so much more deadly.
“SORRY, EDDIE.” Venom offers with very little remorse, in contrast to his words, his tone is void of it. “I WAS ONLY ASKING TO BE POLITE. I DON’T NEED YOUR PERMISSION.”
one solid crack echoes as Eddie’s skull collides with the car beside him, and he falls forward, limp.
“Oh my God!” you cry out, stepping forward.
“HE IS ONLY UNCONSCIOUS, MORSEL.” Venom grins again, before he begins the process of pulling himself free of Eddie’s body. he’ll be expecting to take yours over immediately afterwards. “DON’T ACT LIKE YOU DIDN’T WANT ME TO.”
you ponder his words for a moment, almost ashamed at how true they are. “Fine, but can we at least move him away from the road?” you saunter over, squatting down to reach for his hand. “We can put him on the couch-”
you’re cut off by the sickening sound of Venom latching on to your skin, and the sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, but you imagine it’s similar to being attacked by a large octopus, or a squid. the omnimorphous darkness engulfs your entire arm in seconds, and you start to shriek, but then Venom is face to face with you, staring into your eyes with his own unreadable without pupils. his lips ripple over dripping pearly fangs. “SH, LITTLE THING. WE DON’T WANT THE NEIGHBORS TO HEAR, DO WE?” a dark crow echoes from the blob as he morphs into you, all but his serpentine neck, that coils around your girlish hips as you’re lifted, effortlessly, off of your feet. “I HAVE A FEELING THEY’RE GOING TO GET QUITE THE SHOW, ALREADY. WHEN YOU’RE SCREAMING FROM ALL OF MY TALENT. YOU’LL NO DOUBT WAKE THEM.” two, thick strands of him glues you to the side of the car.
“Right here?” you demand, breathless. “Right now? Venom, I’m still pretty worn out from a few minutes ago-” sticky, raven grapplers shoot out from your own body, spiraling around your ankles and spreads you open and vulnerable to the symbiote controlling them, controlling you. arching your back against the restraint. Venom constricts your hips, wrapping around you like an anaconda trying to strangle it’s prey as his undulating head now hovers eye level with your panties. you couldn’t decide if you were kicking yourself for only wearing a sleep shirt and undies out to bid them farewell or if you were grateful for the minimum amount of damage your closet would thank you for. in this position, spread eagle and suspended against the side of a car that didn’t even belong to you, you knew he wasn’t going to make sure to take care and be cautious with your garments.
“RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW.” he barks, peering up at you. you shudder at the visage of his tongue, long, thick, and drooling as it slides from it’s toothy prison and melds against your curve, tasting the arousal clinging to your panties, he engulfs the lingerie and, in return, your swollen sex, with ridged muscle, much stronger than humanly possible. “YOU WANTED THIS, DIDN’T YOU?”
the feeling is too incredible to deny it. your head lolls back and you nod, bleating out a soft: “Yes.”
“SO DO I,” his voice is a throaty rumble, vibrating your core the closer he presses into it. the slick, strong muscle wraps around the weak cotton of your panties, now drenched in saliva and excitement, and tears them from your body as if they’re made of copy paper. “YOU ARE ALREADY SO SWOLLEN AND SENSITIVE, I CAN’T HELP BUT WANT TO BREAK YOU LIKE THIS. EDDIE ALWAYS GETS TO TASTE YOUR JUICY CUNT, BUT NOW IT’S MY TURN, AND THE MORE OVERSTIMULATED, THE SWEETER IT TASTES.” the monster licks a thick stripe from between your cheeks to your mound, slotting between your sticky folds. the knobbly tongue, each enlarged tastebud, massages your intimacy, your most vulnerable area, and the tip of his muscle wreathes your engorged clit, throbbing from the sudden physical contact after having been plenty stimulated just prior.
a lazy moan falls from your parted lips at the sensation, body jerking against the adhesive that is Venom holding you tight. “Venom!” your nails bite at the tentacles on your legs, body screaming at you to get away from the torture, but he’s quick to restrain those, too. one rope-like extension entwines your arms together over your head, stretching them straight up.
“HMM, DELICIOUS.” Venom rumbles against your center. “I KNOW WHY EDDIE IS SO FOND OF THIS TASTE, NOW, MORSEL. YOU’RE SWEET. I KNOW YOU WON’T MIND IF I EXPLORE A LITTLE DEEPER, WOULD YOU? THIS PUSSY IS TOO SCRUMPTIOUS TO ONLY GET A NIBBLE.” a whole new sensation shoots through your body when his tongue splits your folds and begins it’s invasion into your insides. the muscle itself is thicker than Eddie, and your body can instantly tell as you feel the ridged appendage stretching you, slithering against your convulsing walls, forcing you to adjust to the size of the tongue the deeper he travels. “EDDIE WAS RIGHT, YOU ARE VERY TIGHT, LITTLE ONE. THAT MUST FEEL GOOD, THEN? WRAPPED AROUND MY TONGUE, STRETCHED OVER THE GIRTH MUST BE A FEELING EDDIE’S COCK CAN’T GIVE YOU.”
“Ve-nom-” you’re already panting, wriggling helplessly as more and more of his slimy member pushes past your threshold. “Too.. deep! Oh, my God!” you’ve never felt anyone so deep in your body before, and you weakly peer down, breathing jagged, in time to see an imprint against your belly, in the form of his surging tongue.
“NOW HERE’S A PARTICULARLY TASTY SPOT.” Venom’s voice is heavy with amusement, smooth teeth rubbing against your folds as his tongue finds it’s limit, and he’s forced to press his face against your sex. he’s incredibly deep inside of you, deeper than you thought your body even went, and for a moment, you forget the laws of anatomy. you feel as though his tongue is about to curl up from your throat and part your mouth. it doesn’t, of course, but there’s no denying it’s working overtime in your guts, twisting and writhing against your insides. “UNCHARTED, MY FAVORITE THING TO CLAIM.”
your body tightens, your first orgasm hitting hard and catching you completely off guard. perhaps it’s how deep he’s made it inside of you, caressing every muscle from the inside, that you didn’t notice just how the simmering in your tummy boiled over until it was too late. you cry out, wave and wave of euphoria washing over you with seemingly no end in sight, your body spasms as your muscles contract and release is torn from your body. “Fuck!!” it’s the only coherent word in a slew of swears and pleas, accompanied by howls and whimpers.
“YOU ENJOYED THAT?” Venom asks, clearly up to no good again. “WELL, SO DID I. AND I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING THIS EVEN MORE.” a nudge against your backside slickens your maiden entrance, and his tongue twirls against your guts, sending you into another frenzy of pleasure, one lip caressing your throbbing, inflamed clitoris.
“No more,” you pant, shaking your head. “I can’t take anything else, Venom, I’m going to-”
“YOU’RE GOING TO CUM AGAIN.” Venom snaps, finishing your sentence. you knew that he probably didn’t grasp the feeling that you were struggling through, overstimulated and forced into one orgasm after another, but you didn’t think that even if he did, he would care very much. “ONLY THIS TIME, HARDER. RIGHT?”
“You know- OH! Too much about this, Venom-y GOD, holy shit!” the thick extremity at your rear pries your hole open and pushes it’s way inside, not too gently, either. the stimulation at your core paired with the dragging of spit-slick teeth against your clit ensures that you’re plenty compensated for the discomfort, the pleasure helping to ease any pain that comes with being invaded from behind for the first time.
“HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN HOW MUCH I’VE BEEN AROUND FOR YOUR ORGASMS, LITTLE ONE?” Venom teases, his voice moreso in your mind than echoing outside anymore as he infiltrates your body in so many different ways it’s hard to keep up with which appendage is in which hole, his being latching on to your brain. “I’VE WATCHED YOU COME UNDONE BENEATH EDDIE ENOUGH TO KNOW YOUR BODY WITHOUT EVEN HAVING TO TOUCH IT. HOWEVER, TOUCHING IT IS MUCH MORE FUN. NOW CUM AGAIN, I KNOW YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER ONE IN YOU.”
panting, you shake your head, more for yourself than for him, but it’s no use. his tongue is squirming around inside of you, pumping in deep as his mouth remains airtight with your core, and the tentacle at your back has picked up a pace that’s almost unbelievable, thrusting in and out of your once unclaimed asshole. “I-I can’t,” you whimper, needy. desperate to be released from this pleasure prison.
Venom snarls against you, grip around your hips squeezing you until you feel him bruising you, perhaps his way of implementing a punishment. however, the sensations he’s providing alongside are more of a punishment than you’d ever felt, and your body was both enjoying and hating it. “YOU CAN. BUT IF YOU WON’T, THEN I’LL RIP IT OUT OF YOUR FRAGILE, LITTLE BODY.” with that, his pace increased, both tools pounding into your body with so much force that you’re jostled against his tight hold, breasts flopping up and down with buds stiff and chafing against the unforgiving cotton of your sleep tee. your voice breaks on a cry of pleasure as Venom forces the final orgasm your body can take from your body as if it was his job to.
the feeling hits you like a semi truck, convulsions possessing your abused frame as he works on you, both of your holes aching, fluttering, and clamping down on his unique members. your head throws back, your eyes rolling back. your vision would’ve been blurry otherwise; the power of the climax tearing your psyche apart too intense. incoherent squeaking, that just barely resembles pleas and curses mixing into one another falls out of your mouth, dripping into the air like molasses as your jaw slacks, tongue hanging out of the corner of your mouth like a mindless fuck doll. because, that’s what Venom has made you. you realized that as aftershocks jerked your aching body around, and you take deep, ragged breaths. he’s made you his toy, and he’s used you thoroughly enough that you’re unable to move a muscle if not for his influence.
“THAT IS MORE LIKE IT.” slowly, each appendage retracts from your abused canals, leaking your own juices and another fluid foreign to you out of them. you suspect it’s some type of lubrication, the reason the onslaught had minimum friction. or perhaps, Venom’s saliva, tacky and thick. “YOU CAN’T EVEN STAND UP ON YOUR OWN, CAN YOU, LITTLE ONE?” he’s taunting you now as he releases you from your bondage. your feet touch the ground, but you know he’s in control, because your legs wobble like warm Jello.
“Venom,” you pant, stygian consuming one arm as he takes control of it, gripping the still very unconscious Eddie by the shirt collar and dragging him along behind as he forces your figure to move forward. “That was…” you trail off, thinking for a moment about what exactly you felt about the encounter. you don’t have to say it. a cum-drunk smile spreads across your face.
“RIGHT?” he growls in your mind, able to read your emotions and feel your thoughts, being this close to you. “PERHAPS YOU WANT ME TO SLEEP OVER EVERY WEEKEND.”
biting down on your lower lip, you realize you’ve nearly drawn blood, the poor tier is swollen and red. just like the rest of your body. “Perhaps,” you taunt, but your voice is weak, throat hoarse from screaming out for him. “Are you going to actually let me sleep now, Big Guy?”
an impish snort echoes in your brain. “FOR A MINUTE OR TWO. DON’T GET COMFORTABLE, LITTLE ONE, BECAUSE I’M HAVING TOO MUCH FUN RUINING YOU.”
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Hi! Hope I’m not bothering you but I just wanted to say that i really admire your art, especially the way you draw the clones! They truly look like Temuera Morrison, and your unwhitewashed art of the Bad Batch are some of my favourite Star Wars fan art. If you don’t mind, could you do a tutorial on how you draw the clones? I’d love to learn some tips from you! No pressure of course! Thank you and have a nice day! 🙇
aaa thank you anon!!! im so flattered you'd ask me for a tutorial,,, and just so you know, i'll be riding off the high from this for the rest of the week <3 anyway i've done a quick tutorial below, i hope you’ll find it helpful!
explanations typed out below:
1. begin by looking at references of temuera morrison.
being the face of jango fett and therefore all the clones, the most important thing to start with is to familiarize yourself with his features in order to draw an accurate portrayal of him! i really recommend using pictures and taking note of features like: his round, broad nose and prominent nose bridge; hooded, downturned diamond/almond-shaped eyes; thicker, triangular brows; round, oval chin, flat cheekbones, and dense, thick curly hair.
2. start with a circle to position the nose.
once you have an idea of the angle you're going to draw him in, start by drawing a circle to place the nose. the circle helps with shaping the nose and gives you a bit of an idea of the size of the face you're drawing. try to keep your lines smooth, curved, and as natural as you can. (tip: see the clone wars/tbb style? do the opposite of that.) the circle works for any face angle.
3. continue with the eyes.
i usually start by drawing the left eye, or the eye closer to the camera, depending on the angle or whichever is nearer. in this one, i began with the left eye. i like to draw a prominent inner eye line (the medial canthus region) and move outward from there in one sweep to draw the top lid. from there i picture the eye shape in mind, or use a reference, to draw the lower lid. lastly, i do the other eye after connecting the nose bridge to the eyebrow with one line.
remember that his eyes are more deep-set and his nose bridge is prominent, meaning that in some angles, the eye that's further away from the viewer may be easier obscured than, say, someone with a flatter nose bridge and more prominent/protruding eyes. also, remember that the nose and nose bridge is a 3d structure and can cast its own shadow!
4. fill in the brows.
keeping in mind that tem’s brows are more triangularly shaped, with points in the middle pointing up, fill in the brows with short, almost cross-hatched lines. you can plan the shape before drawing (as seen in step 4 in the picture.)
5. draw the lips.
start with the top lip. for the lips, i like to fill in the top lip after finding the right shape and width for the lips. i like to exaggerate the cupid’s bow a little because it comes naturally, but do it the way you like. once you’re finished with shaping the top lip, complete the bottom lip. tem’s lips are about equal in,,,thickness? height? as always, refer to pictures.
6. shape the face.
start drawing the face shape with the chin! you can use a circle or an oval to position the chin. remember that tem’s chin points more inward, instead of outward. therefore, his jaw and chin meet inwards (again, pull up a reference). once you’re satisfied with the chin shape, move to the top and sketch out his forehead region, taking note of the flat and round contours of his face. (basically, try to remember that there’s a skull, muscles and fat below the skin; you can simplify the shapes, but normal anatomy rules apply.)
once you’re happy with the face shape, finish off with the ears. there’s not much to say about this one, but tem’s ears come slightly to a point instead of round at the tip, and the earlobes are more attached than free.
7. draw the hair.
you can begin planning hair by sketching out the hairline and head shape. it’ll make it easier to estimate where you want the hair to go, and applies to all hairstyles.
i know the clones have a variety of hairstyles, but they should all have the same texture, no matter the length. practice drawing hair in short, round, tight curls for short hair (like jango’s) and remember to keep that even for longer hair (like tup’s). one suggestion i have is to refer to pictures of afro or kinky textured hair to get a better understanding of what i’m talking about.
once you’re happy with the hair, go ahead and freely add skin details and shadows. then add colour. for colouring in digital art, you can take a dropper to get a basis for the skin tone. remember that lighting has an effect on skin tone, so compare the colour you’ve selected on different backgrounds to see how it changes. if the character is in bright light (e.g. in harsh sunlight or white light), you run the risk of making your character look ashy—or worse, whitewashed. @/dsm7 offers a more thorough explanation in their post here.
one way to fix that is by increasing saturation (chromatic intensity) and decreasing brightness (adding shadow). you can do that by moving diagonally right and down in a colour square. ive demonstrated how to do that in the image above.
once you’re happy with the colour, colour it the way you like! (there’s not much to say on my part, even i’m not too sure how i colour ngl)
and that’s about it! i hope this helped :)
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your friend tries to steal him.
#sakusa, aone, + kyotani.
+ HIIIIIIII I loved your friend flirting fic- could you do it with Ushijima, Aone, and Kyotanii!? THANKS IN ADVANCE!!!!!!!!! (Sorry I put this in the wrong section!!)
++ you may recognize this from here and here!
note: i've already done ushijima in the ones linked above so i decided to just do aone and kyotani and add sakusa!
✰ he wants pretty much nothing to do with her
✰ he isn't comfortable being close to your friend like that
✰ he loves you and only has every for you
✰ and luckily he clocks onto what she's up to pretty quickly
✰ and does his best to avoid her
✰ hes hesitant about telling you because he doesn't want to be the cause of your friendship falling apart
✰ but he definitely will throw her under the bus the second you get any kind of suspicious
✰ because he never ever wants you to think he would cheat on you
"i told you i'm not interesting in speaking to you," he sighs, not looking up from his phone. she sits across from him and giggles like she thinks he's flirting with her. it ticks him off but he holds his tongue.
"c'mon yoomi," she whines, "i know you can't be that blind."
"don't call me that," he snaps, "and what are you talking about?"
"i know you think i'm pretty," she coos, biting her lip.
he sighs, wishing he could slam his head against the table, "i really don't. i'm already dating _____."
she scoffs, "so? that doesn't mean you can't look at other girls..."
she reaches over and places her hand on his shoulder. he's immediately on his feet, pushing her hands off of him with a glare, "yes it does. i love her and the sooner you get that through your thick skull the better off we'll all be. i don't want you, get over yourself."
she has the audacity to look offended before he turns his back to her and storms off, ignoring the gawking states if bystanders as he leaves to find you - intent on getting rid of her touch with yours.
✰ aone doesn't like to have any negative expectations of anyone
✰ he truly believes your friend has the best intentions when approaching him
✰ and although he gets a little uncomfortable with the touches and flirtatious remarks she sends his way
✰ he does his best to brush it off
✰ honestly he feels really bad for you because he knows you're going to be so, so hurt by your friends betrayal
✰ so he tries to keep believing she has the best intentions
✰ but when she starts making comments about how you don't deserve someone like him and things of that nature
✰ he really can't stand for it anymore
the second she sits down, he sighs. she'd been trying to get his attention all day, grinning and waving at him until finally following him here and forcing herself into the seat beside him.
it makes him nervous - he doesn't want her near him and he doesn't understand why she won't take a hint.
aone is the first to admit that he's not the most desirable to women. it took him forever to accept your confession as anything other than a joke. and now he's sure this girl only wants him because she can't have him.
"please leave me alone," he requests softly, but all she does is smile.
"you know, nobu," she sighs, "i've liked you much longer than _____ has. and i have to say she just can't treat you right. she doesn't deserve someone as sweet and kind as you."
he frowns and shakes his head, "don't say things like that. i don't care how long you've liked me," he stands up, "i only want her so just leave me alone."
he hears her call something after him but he doesn't listen - he knows he needs to find you and tell you all about the terrible friend you have.
✰ kyotani is loyal to a fault
✰ hes immediately rejecting all contact with your friend
✰ honestly he doesn't think there's ANY reason she should be trying to hang out with him alone
✰ hes immediately suspicious and on guard
✰ the last thing he would ever do is jeopardize his relationship with you
✰ you are the best thing to ever happen to him
✰ and there's no way in hell he's going to let some random girl he doesn't even tolerate
✰ come in and ruin everything hes worked so hard to build
"i've told you to fuck off," he snaps, glaring, "i've already told _____ about this shit and i'm fuckin' sick of it."
"c'mon taro," she whines, biting her lip, "i could treat you real nice...much better than _______. i bet she can't even suck-"
"finish that sentence and i'll push you into moving traffic," he groans, though it's not the first time shes said vulgar things like that to him, "i don't want you. i don't like you. i don't even tolerate you. in fact i hate you."
"you can't hate me!" she gasps, "you think i'm too hot to hate," she giggles, gazing up at him through her lashes.
"i think mutts on the streets are prettier than you," he snaps, grinning at the offended look on her face, "i suggest you walk away before i really hurt your feelings."
© lovebo 2021. do not modify or repost.
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Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Request: Mando rescues a girl and develops a life-ruining crush.
Warnings: Innocence kink. Age Gap. Smut. Screwing someone to get the other out of their head trope.
AN: This is a drabble for ze 500 followers celebration. Someone just asked for Din anything so I went with this. This is definitely a younger Din who is still a bit of an asshole. Also I low key love when the character has to fuck someone else to get the other one out of their head. To confirm, the reader is definitely of age just much younger.
“I don’t do rescue missions,” Mando grunts as he shuffles through the glinting blue pucks.
“It’s no different than hunting someone down,” Karga replies. “Just don’t kill her.”
“She’s a nobleman’s daughter,” Karga takes a long sip of his drink. “Kidnapped a week ago.”
“Why don’t they just pay the ransom?”
Karga frowns. “It seems like this was more in the vein of revenge. They haven’t made contact since they took her, which means this isn’t about credits.”
Mando stills, his fist clenching on the table top. “Do we have any leads?”
Karga’s lips twitch. “No. That’s why I’m asking you.”
Mando could curse himself. Karga had known exactly how to knead him, how to prod at his stupidly softening disposition. He had few weaknesses and one of them was a kid being potentially abused or hurt due to circumstances outside their control.
There were also a lot of credits on the line. An obscene amount. Enough to make full repairs to the Razor Crest.
Mando shifts in his seat. The Silent Sun cantina is packed to the brim. Loud music. Louder jeering. Purple-blue light that is near-blinding him to the point where he has to switch the vision on his helmet to something more subdued. He needs quiet. He needs stillness. He needs to hunt.
He’d managed to track you all the way to Coruscant where he’d beaten the shit out of enough lowly individuals to figure out that the Black Sun had taken you. He’d actually second-guessed himself when he heard that little piece of information. The Black Sun was nothing to underestimate, a criminal enterprise that had its claws sunk into every political party in the galaxy. Mando had even worked for them when they had needed muscle for a few rounds of smuggling trips.
As a young bounty hunter, the lines Mando had drawn in the sand had been far from rigid or clear. They blurred and blurred often when it came to credits. He had his Creed and his own set of rules, the moral standards outside of those rules really weren’t his problem.
Mando, by self-proclamation, had decided that he wasn’t a good person. He had done horrible things. Violent things. He had even enjoyed them. He supposes that saving a young girl could be one good mark against all that black.
He leans backward, stretching his arms out over the booth. The club goers had given him a wide berth when he had made his way through the room. He’s used to it, used to burning a hole through every space he stepped into. He isn’t even sure if it’s respect. Maybe fear? Those are two sides of the same coin, anyway.
At least, to him.
He watches the head of the group get up from his table. Vigo. A thin man with a skull-like face and hollowed cheekbones. Swept back silvery-blonde hair. Creepy, Mando thinks.
He trails his movements, takes note of the weapons on his person. He catches him patting his hip, fingers grasping at the hidden handle of a blaster. Mando knew they were keeping you, here, in the basement of the Silent Sun.
He’d just have to wait and follow.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t caught off guard the moment he laid eyes on you.
You weren’t a child. Young, but definitely not a child.
You’re tied to a chair, your arms restrained behind your back. Your dress is dirtied, torn and damp as your hair hangs limply around your face. Mando steps toward you, shoving one of his bloodied vibroblades into his belt. You lift your chin and he stops in his tracks.
You’re pretty. Not just pretty in the way, Mando would notice off-hand. Not simply attractive.
You are stunning. He is quite frankly stunned, which never happens to him because he’s a bounty hunter who has not once been disarmed by anyone - monsters included.
“Are you here to kill me?” you ask, resigned.
Your voice, the weariness trapped in it, shakes him awake.
He continues forward before dropping low so he can get a closer look at your face. You flinch away from him and he frowns. He had forgotten that you aren’t a bounty, you aren’t someone he’s going to toss into ice. You’re scared of him and a kind bedside manner isn’t in his wheelhouse.
You’re a fucking idiot, he thinks to himself.
“Not here to kill you,” he offers before he cautiously reaches out to you. You let him, leaning into his palm as he cradles your jaw so he can scan for injury. There’s a scabbed-over gash across your temple and a bruised lip. You’re no doubt dehydrated, but he doesn’t want to push his luck by man-handling you without permission.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He moves behind you, cutting the wiry rope. You gasp when he releases your arms, kneading at your skinned wrists. He’s not about to pry into what you may have endured. The Black Sun is professional in some sects and horrific in others. He doesn’t know how deep your wounds might go and he stops himself from asking you outright. Mando, if anything, is excellent at self-control and fucking terrible at tact.
Your forehead wrinkles as you shake your head. “Is- are they dead?”
He nods. “I don’t think I left anyone ali-out.”
Something cold sears through your expression. Something shadowed and dangerous. It looks strange coming from the clear, sweetness of your face.
“Good,” you hiss.
It shouldn’t turn him on, but it does. Of course, it does. He swallows the unwelcome thoughts that come bursting through his thick skull. You’re a professional. She’s literally traumatized.
He gingerly lifts you up, letting you lean into him. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Beskar isn’t very comfortable.”
You shrug before presenting him with a devastating smile, a half-moon grin that shines bright against your bruised-red lips. It makes him ache. “Better than the chair,” you reply.
He forgets himself, nearly tripping over the dead body of the guard as he helps you back to the ship.
Mando knows that he is not in love.
He is infatuated. He is obsessed. He is harboring the most intense crush of his life.
The trip back to your home planet takes weeks and in those weeks you have managed to ease yourself inside his gut. You’re a young thing. You know little to nothing of the world outside your father’s house. He’s certain that your kidnapping has marked you permanently. It might never leave. The first true terror, the first dose of nightmarish reality, that had sought to scar you when you didn’t deserve it.
You tell him about your life at home, about your tutors and the few friends you’ve been able to make. You tell him how dull it all is and how this is the first time you’ve actually flown through the galaxy.
He studies your expression when you peer through the canopy of the cockpit. You suck a breath in when they swim through hyperspace, your eyes glistening with an unsaid emotion that makes Mando turn away.
“Do you think it’s wrong that I’m a little happy this all happened?”
Mando goes rigid, his hands clenching tight around the controllers. “I’m the last person you should ask when it comes to questions about wrong or right.”
You tilt your head before gripping his wrist, startling him. “I know you’re getting paid for this, but thank you. You saved me.”
After that, Mando takes every opportunity to point out planets to you. He even skips a few hyperspace pathways, decidedly opting to travel the long way back to your home.
He feels gross. He feels slightly perverted for wanting you so badly it hurts.
It’s not even about how lovely you are. You’re just kind in a very simple, straight-forward way. You make him want to protect you - save you - keep you to himself so that something like the Black Sun can never happen again.
He is close to losing his head.
You sleep in the tiny cot while he takes the chair in the cockpit. When you shower, he touches your sheets, lifting his helmet momentarily to smell them like a fucking akk dog. He strokes himself off in the fresher, shoving his brow against the slippery wall as he envisions you spread and open beneath him, taking his cock for the first time. He imagines licking your untouched pussy until your thighs shake, until you soak his chin so he can slip inside you more easily.
Just relax. Just let me make you feel good, pretty.
And all the while he thinks of your mouth parting as you sob: Mando.
Or maybe - fuck maybe - you say his own name. The real one.
It is too fucking much. He is lost to the point of distraction and he knows that he has to do something about it. When they stop to refuel, he tells you he’s going to get supplies and that he’ll be back as soon as possible.
You’re staring at him in a pleading way, your full lower lip sucked between your teeth as you longingly peer out at the bustling streets. Once again, he forgets himself as he cups your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.
“This place is too dangerous for you,” His thumb brushes across your cheek and his stomach twists when your lashes flutter. “I swear I’ll show you around the next stop. It’ll be safer. More to see. This place is a shit hole.”
You soften. “Okay. I’ll wait here for you.”
For you. It hits him in the chest. For you.
He doesn’t know why he’s promising you anything. He doesn’t owe you shit beyond getting you back to your father. But there is guilt bubbling inside him. Guilt at the reason why he’s actually going into town.
It’s entirely because of you. He’s not ashamed to admit that truth to himself.
The brothel owner asks what he wants and he immediately says that he doesn’t care.
Then, he rethinks.
He requests someone with your hair color, your skin tone, anything close to the shape of you. It’s sick. He would actually die if you knew what he was doing.
You’re too fucking sweet for him. Pure and soft and generous and nothing that he’s used to. In terms of lovers, he has always opted for the wilder ones, the ones forged in some form of violence that matched his own. He wanted teeth and scratching and hands around his throat. He wanted pain.
No names necessary. Just open, wet tightness and someone screaming beneath him.
You deserved time. You deserved the kind of pleasure that brought tears to your eyes, that made you understand how damn good sex could be.
Mando steps into the cramped room. It smells like sweat and cloying lotion. The overwhelming aroma of red-wax candles and incense and herb-scented oil.
The girl in front of him could be you if he squinted...from thirty feet away.
It’s not like it matters. It doesn’t. This is literally stress-relief, a solution to the nagging problem of having you burning star-bright through his brain at all hours of the day and night.
“I’ve never had a Mandalorian before,” the girl husks and her voice is all wrong.
“Turn around,” he orders as he undoes his belt. He had to be back to you within the hour.
She slips onto the bed, getting on her hands and knees. “I want you to pretend for me,” Mando growls as he runs his gloved hand over her back, He’d be bare for you if he ever got the chance. He’d take you in the dark so he could touch you with his tongue and every part of him you had yet to know.
“Pretend I’m your first,” he grunts as he sweeps his leather-clad fingers through her folds.
It doesn’t work. He tries for a solid five minutes to handle the girl in front of him like she’s you. It’s impossible. First off, he’d never take your virginity from behind. He’d never just spit on his cock and bury himself inside you.
He’d get you ready, wedging himself between your thighs so he could make you cum in his mouth before gently nudging the head of his cock into the tight clutch of your pussy.
Secondly, he’d never fuck you in his full armor. He would never treat you to the sharp edges and Beskar and leather. He wants to give you softness, which is something that Mando has no experience with at all.
The girl tries. She shoves her face into her pillows, moaning about how she can’t fucking wait to take his huge cock before changing direction and sobbing about how terrified she is.
He definitely does not want that. If he fucked you, it would be on your own terms and it would be because you wanted it. If you told him you were scared, he’d stop and maybe buy you one of those honeyed rolls off a food cart and then worship you from afar until you’d like to try again.
Mando sighs before he just does it like he usually enjoys. He balls her hair into his fist so he can anchor her against him and then slides his cock to the hilt. It’s quick as he splits the girl apart with each harsh ram of his hips. She cries out, clinging desperately to the sheets as he angles himself down so he can thrust deep, hitting the soft, spongy center of her. He screws his eyes shut, letting himself go to sensation, enjoying the way the slick walls convulse around his pumping length. He thinks of you. He thinks of how molten you’d be, how wet you’d get for him. He reaches around to rub at her clit, pinching in time with each of his impatient strokes.
The girl screams and it ruins the fantasy, dousing him in cold water. He slams his palm over her mouth, dragging her body up so that her spine is curled against his cuirass. “Just - just be quiet,” he grits out as he grinds into her. “Fuck - just - just hold yourself like that.”
He rests his helmet against the back of her head as he jars her upward with each sharp snap of his hips. He tightens his hand on her waist, squeezing and kneading as her cunt spasms around him. There’s sweat pooling at his lower back. His throat is dry as the warm hit of his orgasm builds at the center of his belly. It rises, grows quick, and Mando thinks of you when he digs his nails into the girl’s shoulder to bring her roughly down onto his pulsing cock.
He pants your name as he cums, tugging himself out of her and rolling onto his back so he can jack himself off. The warm threads of his spend mark his gloves.
By the time he sits up, the fog of sex and fantasy fades to an unsettling blankness. As he stands, he is overcome with queasiness. He fumbles with his pants before storming out of the brothel. He can’t get his head on straight, his ears are buzzing with a faint ringing. He hadn’t even kissed that girl and yet he can taste her on his tongue. His limp cock is still damp between his legs. His cape is smoky with incense and the stench of wax.
When he arrives back at the ship, there’s no surprise that you’re waiting for him.
He tries to rush past you so that he can wash off what he’s done. There’s the sour rise of bile frothing at the back of his throat. He feels even worse when he sees your lovely eyes shining up at him, your comforting smile as you greet him at the door.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just need to get - “
You reach for him, your fingers locking around his wrist before he yanks it away. He’s dirty right now. He can’t have you touch him.
He gives you a sidelong glance and immediately regrets it. You’re frowning at him, obviously hurt.
“I just - I thought I could help organize the supplies you brought back.”
His stomach drops.
Fuck. Fucking shit. How fucking dumb could he be?
Of course, his hands are empty. He’d intended to grab medical supplies and food for their dinner and he’d just flat out forgotten after leaving the brothel. He stands there like an idiot, his helmet blankly pointed at you as you wrap your arms around your waist. It’s a defense mechanism. You do it when you’re uncomfortable or when you talk about anything upsetting.
He knows this because he knows you. He’s studied you. He’s made it his job to understand you and keep you happy.
You’re not an idiot, he watches you watch him. There’s perfume and sweat wafting off of his clothes and even though you’re not exactly well-versed in intimacy, it’s not difficult to parse where he’d been.
Your mouth parts, your eyes widening minutely. He steps toward you and you jerk away from him.
“Sorry,” you mumble as you hurry to the ladder. “I’m - I’ll be in the cockpit. Ready to leave when you are.”
And then you offer him the most heartbreakingly strained smile before disappearing to the second level.
He...he had just fucked himself. He had just hurt you quite spectacularly.
Mando rubs at his chest as he stumbles to the shower. He manages to hold himself together enough that he can get the door shut. His self-hatred escalates to a full explosion. When he shatters the mirror over the sink, the sound is muted beneath the heavy pelt of the water.
Probs will write a part deux to this bc obvs they gotta bang and Mando needs to redeem himself. LMK LOVES.
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Honey Thighs -
Nanami Kento + Gojo Satoru + Geto Suguru with a female S!o with thick thighs
┗Fandom: Jujutsu kaisen
┗Warnings: Smut, some display of inappropriate public behaviour, face riding, oral (female receiving) ya'know, the usual.
┗A/n: this is self indulgent af but I wanted to try my hand at some short headcanons bc I've been stuck at the WIP's I'm working on at the moment 😩 hopefully I'll be able to come up with a satisfactory ending for them.
There is so much touching. Like he can't keep his hands off of your soft jiggly flesh.
His hand is always on top of your thigh whenever you two are sitting side by side. The place doesn't matter he's not gonna let any chance he gets to feel you up.
He has no shame
Will blow off a few flirty whistles everytime you pass him by or he sees you in public.
Some playful smacks and pinches here and there.
Eyeballs your ass in the most exaggerated way that would make any actual catcallers back off.
The way his large hands snake up your knees and rest just below your hip to give it a good squeeze always leave you turned on.
But being the little shit he is, this touchy feely session always ends up with Satoru bailing out on your flushed needy state.
But on a serious note, if he sees your bare thighs then he will BiTe.
No matter how much you weigh or your stature, he will manhandle your ass and pussy until you're all dizzy.
Totally discovered his asphyxiation kink when you suffocated him with your thighs around him.
Crush his skull, smother him pls sit on his face he'll die a happy death.
The world may think of him as a gentleman, even he may claim to be one but if anyone could see behind his glasses, then they'd know that he actually looks at your plush legs 90% of the time when you are around.
Nanami is still classy in his own way tho.
Staring at the way they move when you walk or how they pudge everytime you sit. It's all so mouth watering.
He won't admit it out loud but he loves it when you sit in his lap.
Something about feeling your weight on him gives him a sense of security and nothing helps him relax as much as having your soft body next to him.
Moving on to the dirtier part, he loves all the positions where he can spread you out the most.
Locking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs flush to you chest gives Nanami the best view of your sweet flesh.
Even before your cunt he licks your inner thighs clean, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses all the way to your wet folds.
He can't help but want to gobble you up like the snack you are.
He lives for the the classic ' head on your comfy lap' thing.
You're his favourite pillow and whenever you two have the time he likes using your soft thighs to take a small nap.
Rip your numb thighs tho
Even if he's a criminal he still has to keep up appearances so he prefers to do the more elicit activities for when the two of you are alone.
If there is any day where you talk shit about your thick thighs, Suguru will be the first to tell you how that is your charm point.
Don't believe him?
Then he'll just prove it using his own body.
Cue a heated session of mirror sex where he fucks you all the while showing you each and every inch of your pretty body.
Cursed are those who dare to catcall you or harrass you or stare at you like a slab of meat bc if Suguru is around he will, quite literally turn them into puny little sewer rats if it weren't for your intervening.
Not that you'll be able to tell, but the barest and tasteful flashes of skin drives him into a frenzy.
His compliments are sweet but as soon as you turn around, his slitted eyes drink up all the tiny details from your ass to your knees.
He had already memorised all of your dips and curves but quietly admiring your body that's just so perfect to him has become his way of appreciating you just as you are.
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One of these days I might just lose it completley
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Requested by: MEEE cause this plot popped into my head the second I watched this episode
Summary: Bucky was just following Sharon’s advice to enjoy the party when he meets *yn*, what he isn’t counting on is that he most definitely won’t be staying out of trouble.
Warnings: THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 3 SPOILERS YOU’VE BEEN WARNEDDDDD, fluff, swearing, violence
PART TWO (NAGEL)
“Lay low, blend in. Enjoy the party.” Sharon spoke as she made her way up the stairs. “Oh and try to stay out of trouble, I’ll see what I can find.”
“Trouble?” Zemo smirked.
Sharon’s words echoed in Bucky’s ears as he made his way through the party. Sweaty bodies were pressed up against him as he ducked and weaved through the crowd. It felt like the pulsating music was drumming against his skull as he made his way up to the bar.
“I’m way too old for this.” He huffed out once he reached Sam, gesturing to the bartender for two shots.
“Old or lame? There’s a big difference.” Sam remarked as the pair simultaneously clinked their glasses together and skulled the liquid. Bucky smirked as he watched Sam cough and splutter.
“Now who’s the lame one?” Bucky chuckled, the liquid burning his throat.
“Maybe we both are. Look at Zemo, the dude may be weird but he’s got game.” Sam answered once he’d recovered.
Bucky followed his gaze to see Zemo dancing in between two women, both giggling and chatting animately. He watched as Zemo suddenly began pumping his arm enthusiastically to the beat as the girls watched him wide eyed, before exchanging glancing and slipping back into the crowd without another word.
“On second thought dude’s just weird.”
Bucky let out a chuckle as he leant forward and grabbed the beer that the bartender had left out for him. He took a swig as he turned back around to face the party. He automatically swept over area, his eyes sliding over the hundreds of faces as he looked out for any threat.
He paused as his eyes fell on a flash of bright red material.
Upon closer inspection he noted that the bright red material was in fact a silk dress that was covering the slender figure of a young woman. It was a halter dress that had a deep slit down the front and was almost completely backless, the silk material falling down almost to her ankles with another deep slit also running up her leg that exposed her thigh.
He felt his grip on his beer tighten as his eyes fell on her face, revealing a pair of eyes framed by thick lashes and lips painted with a deep plum lipstick. She was snaking her way through the crowd, gracefully dodging drunken people as they stumbled their way around on the dance floor.
As if she sensed his gaze her eyes flickered up and locked with his. The pair eyed each other for a few moments. She shot him a small smile before breaking their gaze.
“Now who would you be checking out hm?” Sam’s voice broke Bucky out of his almost trance like state.
“No one.” Bucky answered gruffly, glancing over at Sam to see him smirking at him.
Bucky ignored him and turned his head back to where the woman had been only moments ago. She was gone. He scanned the crowd and let out a small huff when he couldn’t see any sight of her.
“Now, I need you to educate me on this art so I can impress some of the ladies.” Sam spoke up again, dragging Bucky’s attention from the crowd.
“What’s that one?” He asked pointing at a nearby painting.
“That’s the Wedding at Cana, painted by Paolo Veronese in 1563.”
Bucky swivelled around, a breath catching in his throat when his eyes fell on the bright red dress. He had no idea how she’d managed to somehow appear beside him without him noticing. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair as he composed himself before answering, ensuring his face stayed void of emotion.
“I’m pretty sure it’s 1563 actually.”
His answer made her brow quirk up in amusement as she took a sip of her drink, her wrist twinkling due to a very expensive looking diamond bracelet dangling from it.
“Actually I think you’ll find it’s 1562. The copy in the Louvre might say 1563 but I suggest you take a peak at the original.” Her words made his eyes narrow as he studied her features.
“Well maybe I will.”
“Before you do that please feel free to continue educating your friend, I’m happy to sit here and correct you when you make another mistake.” She spoke, shooting him an overly warm smile which caused Bucky to grit his teeth.
Sam let out a low whistle as the smirk on her lips widened. “Damn Buck I think you might’ve met someone more cultured than you.”
“We’ll see about that.” Bucky muttered, taking a swig of his beer as he eyed her.
“So how does someone like yourself become so knowledgable about stolen art?” Sam asked her, his eyes darting between the pair in amusement.
The girl shrugged as she took another sip of her drink before motioning to the bartender. “I know a lot about a lot of things.”
“Really?” Bucky mused, this time it being his turn to raise a brow. “And does ‘miss knower of all things’ have a name?”
“Miss knower of all things does.” She answered as she grabbed the shot glass and pressed it to her lips. Bucky eyed her profile intently, noting the way her plump lips wrapped around the lip of the glass and her eyes screwed shut as she slung her head back to let the liquid slide down her throat.
“I love this song.” She remarked, finishing the remainder of her other drink before she rose from her seat. Bucky’s eyes followed her figure as she begun to make her way back to the dance floor. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, a smirk still present on her lips.
“You coming to dance with me or what Buck?” She queried, Sam’s nickname for him rolling off her tongue, amusement evident in her tone.
Bucky eyed her for a few moments before glancing over at Sam. “Sharon did say to enjoy the party.” Sam grinned.
“Try not to be too lame or old huh?” He continued, patting his shoulder encouragingly as Bucky rose from his chair.
“Thanks.” Bucky muttered as he cautiously approached the woman in red. Her smirk widened as he made his way towards her. “C’mon.” He heard her say as she leant forward and took his gloved hand in hers and tugged him into the crowd.
If she was saying anything to him, he couldn’t hear as he felt himself become engulfed in the crowd as she pulled him deeper into the dance floor. After a few moments she came to a stop and swivelled around to face him. He felt himself grow slightly red as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, swaying her hips to the beat.
“Are you really not going to tell me your name?” Bucky spoke, practically shouting to make himself heard over the thumping base.
“Why do you want to know? You never danced with a stranger before?” She answered back.
“No I just- I usually know people’s names before I dance with them.” He replied which caused her to let out a small laugh. “Back in my day we used to go out to dinner first.” He added silently in his head.
His heart thumped against his chest as she pulled him closer to her and leant up so her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “My name’s *yn*.”
“*yn*.” Bucky echoed, her smile widening at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “And what brings you to a place like Madripoor?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” She observed matter-of-factly.
Before Bucky could open his mouth to respond, *yn* twisted around, keeping one arm slung around his neck as she pressed her back up against his body. Bucky bit his lip to prevent a hiss from escaping his mouth as *yn* began to rotate her hips to the rhythm of the music, the fabric of her dress pressing against the material of his black suit pants.
This certainly beat online dating.
“Just relax, enjoy the party.” *yn* laughed breathlessly, echoing Sam’s words from before as she pressed even harder against him. Bucky let his eyes flutter shut as he felt his hands automatically move to grip her hips as he started to move his own body in time with the thumping bass.
His grip on her hips tightened as she lolled her head back against his chest, her hot breath fanning onto his neck as the pair moved in sync.
If only Steve could see him now.
As he grew more comfortable he let his gloved hands begin to wander, trailing over her lower stomach before gliding down her thighs. “What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?” He heard *yn* murmur into his ear.
He felt *yn*’s body stiffen as his hands crept lower to just below her panty line. Before he could answer, her hand suddenly shot out to grip his wrist and cease his movements but not before his hand suddenly brushed over an unexpected bump on her leg.
A shape that felt suspiciously like a-
A hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder causing him to jerk his hands away in surprise just as *yn* pulled away from his grasp. “I’m sorry to break up the party but Sharon’s found our guy-” Sam cut himself off as Bucky swivelled around to stare at him, his eyes wide in surprise.
“You good man?” Sam asked, concern written on his features when he noticed Bucky’s look of surprise.
“I-” Bucky cut himself off before looking back to *yn*.
His brow furrowed as his eyes instead fell on a drunk man currently sculling a beer out of a shoe. He frantically looked around, muttering a curse under his breath when he realised *yn* was no where to be seen.
It was like she had vanished without a trace.
“Oh painting girl pulled a runner? Don’t worry about it man happens to the best of us.” Sam comforted, patting his shoulder once more.
Bucky felt a ripple of suspicion wash over him but he decided against telling Sam about it as he finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd to look at Sam. “Let’s get Zemo. We should talk somewhere private.”
“Alright what have you found?” Sam asked. Zemo, Bucky, Sharon and Sam were all piled into a private coat room located directly above the party. The bass was still so loud that Bucky could feel the vibrations through the tiled floor. The door was locked with a few security guards located outside and on the stairs leading up to the room.
Bucky sighed, his mind swimming with thoughts of *yn* as he ripped his gloves off. He couldn’t shake a feeling of suspicious that was gnawing at him that there was something off about *yn*.
“I’ve spoken to a few buyers and I’ve got a location on Doctor Nagel.” Sharon spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “He was pretty hard to track down but he’s definitely still here in Madripoor. He’s at the shipping yard.”
Bucky stiffened when he swore he head a thump outside the door, a thump that didn’t correlate with the sound from the party. He strained his ears and sure enough, another thump followed suit a few minutes lately.
“You sure no one can get up here?” Bucky queried, looking over to Sharon.
“I’m sure. This is a restricted area, I’ve got all the entrances guarded.” She answered, watching him as he made his way to the door.
“Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam asked.
Bucky held his hand up to signal everyone to be quiet as he pressed his ear against the wood. He held his breath as he listened intently. There were a few moments of quiet until he head another thump and a small moan.
Without warning Bucky ripped open the door and stepped out into the hallway. He nearly tripped over when his foot hit a solid form. He glanced down to see one of the guards lying at his feet, letting out low moans of pain. His eyes travelled down the hall to see all of the guards were either unconscious or were too dazed to get to their feet.
He froze when his eyes fell on an all too familiar red dress.
Bucky locked eyes with *yn*, her lips parted in surprise and chest heaving up and down as she tried to regain her breath. The pair stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, the silence almost deafening as they eyed each other.
“Bucky!” Sam called out, shattering the silence.
Bucky was only distracted for a split second but *yn* took it, turning around and sprinting down the stairs. “Hey!” Bucky shouted, taking off after her ignoring Sam’s shouts from behind him.
Bucky leapt down the winding stairs, catching brief glimpses of the red material before it disappeared around the next corner. Finally his feet planted on the lower floor. His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto *yn*’s figure as she pushed through the crowd.
His jaw locked and he could feel himself enter into winter soldier mode as he stormed forward and plunged into the throng of people. He ignored protests and exclamations of surprise as he shoved people out of the way, parting them like the red sea as he kept his eyes focused on her like a laser beam.
*yn* glanced over her shoulder and the pair briefly locked eyes before she turned around once more and broke out of the crowd, sprinting towards a door with a neon exit sign hanging above it.
Bucky was hot on her heels, shoving the door open revealing another set of stairs. He hurried up the stairs and got to a landing revealing two doors. He noted that the left door was slightly ajar and he pushed through it revealing a large hall.
He sprinted into the centre of it, coming to a stop when he saw no sight of *yn*. He did a 360 of the room, craning his neck to look around. The room was empty except for a few large wooden boxes covered in tarps. Clearly this was where Sharon kept the less impressive stolen art.
“Come on.” Bucky muttered under his breath as he looked around. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop but his senses were telling him that he wasn’t alone in this room.
*yn* was here, if that was even her name.
He let out a grunt of surprise as a sold object hit his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He could feel limbs wrapping around his neck and his torso as slender arms pulled his neck into a headlock. He let another grunt as he brought his hands up to grip onto the arm that was around his throat.
He furrowed his brow in surprise when he pulled at the arms and found them unbudging. He tried once more, mustering all the strength he had but *yn*’s grip remained unmoving. He gritted his teeth and took a couple steps before shoving his back into one of the wooden crates.
He heard *yn* let out a small moan of pain as her body smacked against the solid mass with full force. Sure enough, her grip loosened slightly which allowed Bucky to pull her arm from his neck and throw her body over his head and off him.
She twisted her body in the air so that she landed in a crouched position but still on her feet. Bucky watched her as she rose to her full height, her body slightly gleaming with sweat under the sterile light. She took a few steps back from him and leant down to spread apart her dress, revealing a black thigh garter.
Just as Bucky had suspected on the dance floor, sheathed inside the thigh garter was a small blade. He watched as she pulled it from her thigh, gripping it tightly in her hand.
“You picked the wrong dress tonight doll.” Bucky tutted as he took a few steps towards her.
“You don’t like it? I’m hurt.” *yn* pouted, placing a hand over her heart mockingly.
“Trust me doll, I like it.” Bucky answered, letting his eyes briefly dart from the dagger in her hand to her dress. “But it’s not exactly the best dress for blending in and slipping away unnoticed.”
“Who ever said I wanted to slip away unnoticed?” *yn* answered, a mischievous glint in her eye as the pair began to slowly circle each other. Her words made his forehead crease in confusion as he studied her intently.
“So you know who I am?”
“I do.” *yn* nodded as she twisted the knife in between her fingers. “The зимний солдат.”
Her answer made Bucky’s lips part slightly in surprise. “That is what they call you, isn’t it?” She mused.
“Who are you?” Bucky snapped causing her to smirk to widen.
“What were those magic words again, Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать-”
Bucky suddenly lurched forward, taking *yn* by surprise. She reacted instinctively, bringing the blade up from her side towards his stomach. Bucky gripped her wrist using his right arm, stopping the knife only inches from his flesh. He pulled her closer to him and raised his metal arm to strike her. With lightning fast reflexes her other arm shot up and her hand enclosed around his fist.
He glanced up at her in surprise when she pushed against his metal arm, stopping his fist from colliding with her jaw. He grunted as he mustered up more strength in an attempt to break out of her grasp to no avail. They were evenly matched in strength.
He had no idea who she was but now he was certain of one thing. They both had super soldier serum running through their veins.
*yn* took advantage of Bucky’s surprise and lifted a leg up, kicking him squarely in the stomach, her stiletto heel digging into his skin. Bucky spluttered as he felt the wind get knocked out of him, loosening his grip on her arms. *yn* reacted quickly, knocking his feet from underneath him and jumping on top of him.
Bucky groaned as his back hit the concrete floor and *yn* straddled him, pinning both of his arms above his head with one hand and pressing her dagger to his throat with the other.
“I think I liked you better when I was showing you up in front of your friend.” She remarked as she pressed the blade firmly against his skin.
“And I think I liked you better when you were dancing on me and not trying to kill me.” Bucky spat back as he squirmed underneath her causing *yn* to cock her head to the side, an amused expression on her features.
“Now whoever said I wanted to kill you?”
“Hmm I don’t know, could be the knife you’ve got against my throat.” He growled, wincing as the metal dug even further into his flesh. *yn* let out a breathy laugh as she leant down towards his face.
“Trust me pretty boy, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
The sound of footsteps approaching and Sam calling Bucky’s name made both their heads jerk towards the door before Bucky could answer her. This time it was Bucky’s turn to take advantage of *yn* being caught off guard. He managed to wriggle his metal arm out of her iron like grip and instantly lurched up to grab her around the throat.
*yn* spluttered in surprise, instinctively dropping her dagger to use both her hands to struggle against his vice like grip. Bucky used all of his core strength to push her off him and roll himself on top of her. Now he was so close up to her and under bright light, he could see that her skin was littered with small scars and bullet holes.
*yn*’s face was slowly growing red as she desperately gasped for air, her body squirming underneath him as she clawed at his metal arm. “I’m not going to ask you again, who the hell are you?” Bucky spat, glaring down at her as he desperately searched her eyes for some sort of answer.
“I don’t-” She spluttered, “I didn’t come here to hurt you, please-” She continued, her voice barely a whisper as her airway grew more restricted. For the first time since Bucky had locked eyes with her, he could see some form of fear and desperation reflecting back at him. The pair eyed each other for a few moments before Bucky slowly eased his grip around her throat, just enough for her to regain some air. *yn* gasped at the feeling of oxygen entering her lungs once more.
“Woah, what the fuck-”
Bucky looked up to see Sam, Sharon and Zemo staring at the pair with wide eyes, all three of them with their weapons raised.
“What part of stay out of trouble did you not understand?” Sharon queried, an exacerbated expression on her features.
“Trouble found me.” Bucky answered gruffly as he looked back down at *yn*. The fear that had been present on her features only moments ago had vanished, the cocky and flirtatious mask had been slipped back on.
“Not that I really mind this position, but given that the cavalry’s arrived, do you mind getting off me?” *yn* asked Bucky coolly.
Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unamused at her remark as he studied her. “You’re not going to try and kill me again?”
“I already told you, I don’t want to kill you.” *yn* huffed, rolling her eyes.
Bucky studied her for a few moments before finally relenting and releasing her throat from his grip. He pushed himself off her and rose to his feet but not before grabbing her dagger and sliding it into his suit pants.
*yn* got herself up from the ground, her breathing still ragged as she ran a hand through her hair and tucked her strays behind her ears.
“You wanna tell us who this is Bucky?” Sharon asked, eyeing *yn* up and down.
“Supposedly her name is *yn*-”
“-not supposedly, it is *yn*.”
“-she seems to like not answering questions about herself.” Bucky ignored *yn*’s input. “Oh and she’s had the super soldier serum.”
“Might want to keep an eye on your friend over there, I know he’s in the habit of murdering anyone who’s come within walking distance of the stuff.” *yn* remarked dryly shooting Zemo a dirty look.
“Hello to you too darling.” Zemo grinned causing Sharon to roll her eyes.
“Who are you? Who the hell do you work for?” Sharon quizzed her.
“I don’t work for anyone.” *yn* snapped back.
“The flag smashers?” Sam asked causing *yn*’s face to contort into a look of disgust. “Fuck no, I don’t work with those amateurs.”
“Just tell us what you want or I’m going to have to detain you.” Sharon spoke. There was a brief pause as *yn* studied Sharon before looking over to Bucky.
“You’re not the only one looking for answers, зимний солдат.” She answered quietly, her features softening for a moment as she looked at him.
“Well then maybe we can help each other get answers then.” Bucky murmured back.
The pair studied each other for a few moments before a loud honk suddenly sounded outside. Gun shots rang out from underneath them followed by loud screams and shouts. Bucky, Zemo, Sam and Sharon looked around in confusion as the sound of hundreds of footsteps began to grew louder and louder.
“Sorry kids, that’s my ride. Gotta fly.”
Within a few seconds the door burst open and hundreds of party goers flooded the room, shouting for help as they fled from the gun fire. Bucky glanced over to where *yn* had been only a few seconds ago to see that she was sprinting towards the only window in the room.
Bucky pushed through the panicked crowd, watching helplessly as *yn* reached the raised window. She clambered up onto the ledge and shoved the window open. She glanced over her shoulder and the pair locked eyes when Bucky was practically within arms length of her.
“I’ll be sure to send Doctor Nagel your regards, Buck.” She taunted. “We should do this again sometime, maybe without trying to hurt each other.” She smirked, sending him a wink before leaping off the ledge. Bucky scrambled up onto the ledge and poked his head out to see *yn* sliding down a pipe fixed to the outside of the building.
He watched helplessly as her stilettos hit the ground. She approached a waiting motorcycle, the driver holding out a helmet for her expectantly. She took the helmet and slung her leg over the seat, sliding her helmet on as the driver throttled the engine. She looked up to the window and gave Bucky a wave before wrapping her arms around the driver’s waist.
“Fuck.” Bucky cursed as he watched the motorbike peel off into the bustling street, going completely unnoticed by the rest of the public amid the chaos.
“She’s gone?” Sam queried as the other three appeared beside Bucky at the window.
“Hm.” Bucky grunted, clenching his jaw in annoyance as he watched the motorbike disappear from sight.
“She was kind of terrifying.” Sam remarked matter of factly.
“I thought for sure she was going to gut you, James.” Zemo observed.
Bucky stayed silently, clearly brooding as he stared out into the street as Sam studied him in amusement.
“I think Bucky’s in love.”
PART TWO (NAGEL)
зимний солдат = winter soldier
Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать = Longing, Rusted, Seventeen.
I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!?!? As always feedback is appreciated!!!! Please give it back here xx
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title: got it bad
pairing: levi ackerman x reader
summary: sometimes you need to make a bold statement to get what you want
a/n: this was supposed to be a part of my step-dilf series that i was going to do for 300 but it got lost somewhere in my wips partially because i'm super unconvinced by my take on levi and partially because i suck at organisation. but hey, i already wrote it, didn't i? so i may as well post it <3 i hope you all like it ~
cw!! kind of stepcest (levi is dating the reader's mother), infidelity, age gap, degradation in the form of levi being an asshole, no overt sexual content but it is heavily implied
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
it’s horrible, how badly you want your mother’s new boyfriend. you can’t even begin to count the number of nights you’ve laid in bed wishing that your small, dainty hands between your thighs were levi’s manly ones. but you know that he still sees you as a kid, all dazed and wide-eyed. you’ve tried to get him to change his mind about you by parading around in thin crop-tops without a bra underneath or not-so-subtly brushing your hand against his crotch when you pass him in the hallway but the message never seems to get through his thick skull. or if it does, he does a hell of a good job to keep himself in check.
regardless, you’re sick of it. you need to take matters into your own hands before your mother inevitably moves on to someone new and you lose your chance.
maybe chasing her out of the house with the promise of an all-expenses-paid trip to the salon wasn’t your most financially sound idea but it gets you alone with levi and that was all that mattered to you. there’s no way in hell that he doesn’t suspect that you have something planned what with all the curiously annoyed glances he keeps tossing your way whenever you fidget next to him on the couch. in spite of his obvious displeasure with you, however, he doesn’t make a single move to shift away, just keeps his eyes trained on the television screen.
“um, levi,” you begin softly during a commercial break.
“what do you want?” he asks, tone as aloof as ever.
“can i show you something?”
this piques his interest enough for him to face you, eyebrows raised. “what kind of something?”
you bite your lip to keep your grin from getting too wide. “’t’s a surprise.”
“you know that i don’t like surprises you shitty br-”
“just trust me! you’ll like this one,” you interrupt, which only causes the ever-present furrow in his brow to deepen.
if he’s confused by your getting up off the couch, his face does nothing to give it away. he only stares blankly at you as you move to stand in front of him.
what does get him to react is when you pull off your hoodie and sweatpants to reveal the new lingerie set you bought for just for him. you hadn’t had any sort of idea as to where his tastes ran so you had just bought the first thing that caught your eye. though judging from the way his eyes widen at the garter belts around your thighs, you’d say that he isn’t at all opposed to it.
“what...the fuck is wrong with you? where did you even get that? jesus fucking christ -- did you buy that just to pull this dumbass stunt?” his questions are coming at you a mile a minute, his voice getting louder and louder with each one.
you feel your heart sink in your chest.
“don’t you like it?” you pout.
he barks out a cruel laugh. “are you shitting me right now? you’re half my age! i’m dating your mother.”
“but-” you try to defend yourself, feeling all at once very exposed and, even worse, aroused at his callousness.
“nope, shut the fuck up. don’t wanna hear it. fuck, i always knew you were stupid but i didn’t know you were this stupid,” he says the last part mostly to himself.
you feel your face heating up. “’m not stupid...”
he looks at you, eyes as cold as steel. “yes you are. if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have even thought about pulling this bullshit.” then, when he notices you subtly rubbing your thighs together, “don’t fucking tell me that this is getting you horny.”
you immediately avert your gaze.
“oh, this is fucking great. not only are you a brainless bitch but you’re a whore too. just my luck.” he runs his hands down his face with a groan that you feel go straight to your core.
he stays with his head in his hands for a few minutes, the room completely silent save for the sound coming from the television speakers, before he finally lifts his head to address you.
“if i let you do this just this once...do you promise to leave me the fuck alone?”
“mhm! promise, i'll do anything you want. just w-”
“stop talking,” he reclines back into the cushions, pulling you forward by your wrist and tumbling into his lap. “we’re doing this my way, got it? nod that empty little head so i know you understand. you’re going to yourself off on my thigh. i’m not going to help you. you don’t get to fucking speak. you don’t address me. you don’t look at me unless i tell you to. nod again if you understand, you dumb whore. good girl.” he spreads his legs further apart to give you some room to better situate your pussy over his muscular thigh.
“well? what are you waiting for? you wanted this, didn't you? so get to work.”
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Secret Love Affair* — Armin Arlert
Alternate Title: Cyber Sex
For @murmikaa's 4k Celebration Collab !
Pairing: Bestfriend! Armin Arlert x Reader
Word Count: 5.5k
Content: Mutual Pining, Cheating, Infidelity
Content Warnings: Subby Reader and Slightly Less Subby Armin, Cheating, Smut / Nsfw 18+ (Phone Sex, Begging, Mentions of a Creampie, Mutual Masturbation)
Summary: Reader is Eren's girlfriend, but she and Armin have been pining over each other for so long. And just one late night call from him causes the tension to snap. But shhh, don't let Eren know.
Eren was mean.
You were warm and itchy with need, desperate for something — anything — and he was being mean.
The faint, heart-dropping beep from when he had hung up is still ringing around in your skull, bouncing off the bone, and knocking into your brain with a painful smack!
He hadn’t even said anything to you, that meanie. You had the phone brought up to your ear, twitching with anticipation of his answer, fingers pressing into the edges of the device so tightly like you thought it was going to run away.
You couldn’t wait for him to answer. You couldn’t wait to hear his smooth, velvety voice; raspy thanks to the long hours of the day. His pretty voice that purred so nicely that it had your entire body buzzing.
You were aching for him for hours… hours.
He’s been gone on that stupid vacation forever and left you all by yourself with no one to take care of the dull throbbing between your thighs. And when you had taken the liberty to call him, hoping he’d be so pleased that his sweet little girlfriend loved him so much and needed to hear his voice, he hung up before you even got the chance to tell him how much you missed him.
What an asshole!
You let out a tiny huff of frustration, furrowing your brows together as you stare down at his filed contact in your phone. It was taunting you, cruel and merciless, his pretty face in that little contact photo at the top of the screen just staring back at you.
You wanted to hate him for being inconsiderate, but you could feel the tension in your body beginning to dissipate the longer you look at the smile he sports in the picture.
You had taken it after a long day at the beach with everyone, and his face was freckled and kissed sweetly by the sun and you just couldn’t resist capturing the memory. Such a pretty boy.
Such a mean boy.
A mean boy whose text just flashed down in the form of a banner from the top of the screen.
‘not now. busy.’
That burning in your chest was beginning to return, not the arousal — that never left — but the frustration. It was hot and festering beneath your flesh and threatening to catch fire.
‘miss u so much’ You reply, not bothering with his warning.
Your phone is pulled back into your lap, held in your hands while your elbows rest on your knees. It bounces around as you jiggle your leg, waiting for his response, hoping that your last-minute efforts to gain his attention will work.
But Eren never changes. Eren’s never one to answer fast, never has been one to answer fast. He always took his sweet time. And knowing him, he’s probably already glanced at the message, flashed his eyes over the screen long enough to get a gist of what you’ve sent, and chose to ignore it.
It was almost a running joke in your friend group. You’d all count on your fingers how many messages you each could send him before he actually responds. The record, in one sitting, was fourteen.
That little game ended up bleeding into other people. And while you were all gathered around at dinner or sitting around a firepit, maybe horsing around in someone’s room, you’d make it a competition to see who’d reply to their texts the fastest.
And Eren always came in last, Armin in first.
Oh Eren, why couldn’t you be more like Armin?
Why couldn’t you be sweet like him, show you the time of day like he does, look at you like you’re the most beautiful creature in the world like he does?
You want his pretty turquoise eyes to scan over your figure like Armin’s pretty blue ones do. You want to feel giddy with excited energy with Eren like Armin makes you. You want the tension, the pure unadulterated desire, so thick you could cut it with a knife.
You wish that still existed with Eren.
But that desire was a one-way streak with him.
‘miss u too, can’t right now though’
Another frustrated growl leaves your lips as you carelessly toss your phone back down to your bed.
Your desire was still flickering, embers burning and glowing low in your stomach and refusing to simmer. The yearning beneath your shorts was still embarrassingly present, and your neck was still hot and sticky with sweat like someone had locked you in a sauna.
You needed something. You didn’t know what that ‘something’ exactly was, but you knew you needed it!
You needed something — someone — to tend to your discomfort, to treat you well, and take care of you.
You needed someone to take care of you.
Eren wouldn’t dare, he was too busy. He was too inconsiderate, he took too long and was too inconsiderate — never thought about your feelings.
You needed a someone that would be sweet. Someone that would make you feel needed. Someone who could light that fire ablaze and encourage it to burn red-hot and engulf both of you in it, swallow the two of you whole at the hand of its flames.
Sweet Armin. Sweet Armin would pour gasoline on your fire.
Armin who couldn’t peel his eyes off you and got noticeably hard in his pants when you coddle him and you’d have to pretend you didn’t see it (oh, but you would send him a daring glance once the others are gone).
Armin who you’ve caught in your room, stealing your intimate wear, and you’d turn away with silent encouragement, tugging your door closed until he was out of general eyesight.
Armin, who littered your every thought, invaded your brain and made a home there. He branded himself into your mind and soul, staking claim unknowingly. Armin who you wished you could sneak off with and fuck silly while Eren was oblivious.
You couldn’t stop your hand from wandering south, It was inevitable. It happened every week. Every week you slipped your fingers inside your cunt, scissoring and curling them while his pretty face flashed across the backs of your eyes while you squeezed them shut.
You loved the thrill of it, the electricity that fizzed in your chest at the thought of you thinking and fantasizing about another man satisfying you. And you would almost feel bad if Armin didn’t do the exact same thing himself.
You knew that he was infatuated with you and wanted you as his, even just a little part. You knew that you were on his mind every hour of the day, even now.
Even as he tugged his shirt over his neck to expose his torso to the steaming and humid air of the bathroom before his shower, he was thinking about you. You and your legs wrapped around his slender waist, both your bodies slick with water as he drilled his cock into you and you into the tile wall.
He was drunk and shameless with these thoughts until he got your message, similar to when Eren had first received yours.
‘can i call you, please,’
He almost dropped his phone into the sink. It goes bouncing around in his hands until he gets an awkward grip on it that’s just enough tight so he can shift it around until it’s correctly facing him.
His poor heart has been shocked and restarted and is now thumping against his ribcage, and his gentle hands shake as he texts back far quicker than Eren did.
‘what’s up?’ He sends immediately.
All the frustration about Eren begins to leave your body, because although you can’t see Armin, you know he only responds with the kindest intent. He’s there for you.
‘i need someone to talk to and eren won’t call me’
There’s only the faintest pang in his chest at the thought that you’re only messaging him because Eren’s not available. But he doesn’t have it in him to complain, because you may be messaging him as a second choice, but you’re messaging him as a second choice.
‘are you lonely?’
Your heart is the one to squeeze this time. His question wasn’t intended to feel so genuine and so worrying, but it came off that way. That’s what you needed: someone to care.
‘yeah, please call me’ You say, scooting back onto your bed, still wrist deep in your pants, until you’re resting back against the pillow you stuck up against the headboard.
Armin clenches his jaw tightly at your voiceless plea. He’s lost all care and thought of being your second choice because your asking… begging for him to call you.
‘alright, one second’
Armin quickly maneuvers himself around the toilet and reaches over the side of the tub to turn off the shower. He flinches away from the stray water, pulling away from the tub, and, a little too enthusiastically, climbs onto his bed.
He rests himself back against the wall that his bed is pressed up against with his phone gripped tightly in his hands. He’s almost shaking with anticipation, his thoughts wandering to places he knew they shouldn’t, but the desperation in your texts alone is undeniable.
If only he knew that his hopes were correct.
Your hand was still shoved down your panties, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, wanting to hear his sweet voice and use it to help you cure your need. There were already goosebumps freckled about your skin, and only more sprouted when you hear the ringing of your phone.
You answer immediately, quickly bringing the phone up to your ear. You can only hear slight rustling at first, but then the saccharine smoothness of his voice comes through the line
“Are you alright?” He asks sweetly.
If you weren’t so stupidly turned on right now you would cringe at how quickly you felt your insides turn. The gentleness and sincerity of his words pulled a shiver from you, and although they were pure and sheer, they shot straight south to where your hand connected with your body.
Shaky fingers slide over your clit and send a sharp surge of pleasure through your stomach, a tiny little gasp escapes your lips. You have to swallow hard and steady your breathing before you speak to him.
“No,” Your voice still wavers, “Eren won’t answer me ‘nd I’m so lonely,”
You sounded so needy, so small and desperate, and Armin’s stomach burns once more at the mention of Eren and implication that he’s your second choice. You missed Eren so much, you needed Eren so bad, so bad that you had to call someone else to try and cleanse your heavy heart.
“He’s being mean again?” Armin moves around a little to get more comfortable, “I’m sorry about that.”
He hopes his words don’t come off with half a heart because he truly did feel bad at your distress. He was just upset that Eren was the one making you feel this way, and if you were with Armin himself, you wouldn’t be so distressed.
Armin would never let you feel unwanted or alone.
His words only cause another wave of sadness and desperation to flow through your veins, and your furrowing your brows at the feeling of your throat getting tight frustration. You were so conflicted; so angry at Eren, yet needing him so bad.
“‘just miss him so much,” You whine, fingers bumping against your clit again as you try and picture his pretty face in your head — Armin’s not Eren’s, you were mad at Eren, “Need him.”
And although your words didn’t convey it, you needed Armin almost just as bad.
Armin could groan at those two little words and what they imply. He takes his bottom lip tight between his teeth and lets his head roll back on his shoulders until it rests against the wall, his free hand twitching and threatening to shoot to palm his cock through his sweats.
You can hear the struggle on the other side of the line, the knocking of his head back against the plaster, and the rustling of his body against the sheets. If you weren’t so frustrated you would smirk against the phone.
But you only feel over yourself more, savoring the hitches in his breath with your every word.
“How can I help you?” He asks, keeping his tone light despite what he’s intending to get across.
He wants you to need him, he wants to cure your desires and get you to beg him to answer your calls.
You choke back a moan as you slide a finger through your slit, feeling your cunt pulse inside and out every time he speaks. It was an involuntary reaction, you couldn’t control it, but you needed more.
“Jus’ talk with me, please,” Your voice is strained.
“What - what do you wanna talk about?” Armin asks, pulling away from the wall and maneuvering his body until his back rests against the headboard.
“Anything, ‘wanna hear your voice…”
He can hear your voice shrink gradually throughout your sentence like you’re shy and scared of what you’re saying. It was a sweet confession and it made his heart flutter against his ribcage. His dick twitches as well, but he tries to ignore it.
“Want me to tell you about my day or something?”
“Yes please, please,” You beg.
Armin's hand shoots to his pants like grabbing his cock would somehow stop it from pulsing, but the pressure from his palm only has a groan climbing up his throat and he has to swallow hard before responding.
He does just as you asked; tells you about his day. He starts with the beginning, how he awoke and went to an exam that he’d studied forever for, and then he tells you about his lunch with Jean — purposefully skipping over the part where he and Jean had talked about how you deserve better than Eren — and Jean was so kind to pay.
You don’t hear a single word he’s saying. Well, you do, but not in the way you had made it seem. Every word was going in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t make out a single one or what they meant. They all sounded like jumbled sounds in an arousing octave that made your entire body shiver. Nothing he said stuck, only how he said it.
Every breathy laugh he lets out, or a frustrated groan when he brushes over a typically annoying subject, had you biting back mewls and gasps. Your hand was still cruelly toying with your clit and your little hole that was practically dripping for God knows who at this point.
You thought you were sneaky and quiet, but Armin could hear every particularly loud catch that escapes. You weren’t being careful enough. You couldn’t even think, his voice alone was making you stupid.
“... and now you’re keeping me from a shower by calling me,” He finishes, a teasing tilt in his voice.
The gentle playfulness doesn’t hit you one bit. All you can think of is Armin, naked and dripping water in the shower. Hot steam wisping around his body, drinking up his milky skin and flushing him pink.
You didn’t even notice the whine you let out at the thought of it until he was calling your name with an ounce of concern. But he knew what was going on now, it was far too obvious for him to both miss it and ignore it.
The sensual sound travels straight to the tip of his cock, and his hand grasps it harder — squeezes the shaft through his pants and allowing his thumb to smooth over the tip. His entire body is on fire now, and not from the former warmth of the shower steam,
You sounded perfect. You sounded so needy and desperate, presumably for him. You were touching yourself while he told you about his day, and he was far from mad about it.
He calls your name again, but this time his voice is tight with arousal and not concern.
“Armin,” You whimper, teasing your entrance with your finger, feeling it clench and flutter against you, “‘want you. ‘want you so bad,”
Your eyes are squeezed shut now, lips parted and glossy with your own saliva. Your knuckles are hurting from how tight you’re gripping your phone, but you barely notice due to the anticipation you feel from your finger pressing against your hole.
Armin’s hand feels over his cock gently, slowly jerking himself through the fabric almost subconsciously. He had his jaw clenched tightly and his bare stomach was clenching with his every breath, begging him to please himself.
“Fuck, you - you can’t say that,” He seethes, coming to an internal conflict of whether or not he should feed into your need.
He wants to. He wants to so bad. But the guilt would kill him
“‘s true,” You almost sound choked up, “I think about you all the time,”
Armin doesn’t halt his palming of his cock, because although he knew he would feel guilty, he would never ever forgive himself for passing up the opportunity you’re currently providing him. Hesitantly, he encourages you to continue.
“What - what do you think about?” He asks, his voice quiet but tight with hesitation. He allows his fingers to slide over the bulge in his sweats and up to the waistband.
You suck in a tiny gasp, your restraint running thin now that he’s only adding to your stimulation.
“‘think about your hands…. ‘nd your eyes… your voice,” Your voice is tiny again, and you know you sound absolutely stupid — pathetic, even.
“What about my hands?” Armin prods. He can feel his ego swell in his chest at your confession.
Because even though you had a boyfriend — a boyfriend that was his best friend — he still consumed a part of your mind; a part of your mind that Eren would never own, a part that would always be Armin’s.
You squirm under your own touch of your finger pressing inside you, “Your fingers. I… I think about them inside me. ‘so long and so pretty — they’d feel so good.”
Armin mutters a near-silent fuck. He knows, he knows that whatever you just did to yourself on the other line must have brought you pleasure thanks to the way your voice began to stutter and catch in your throat.
“Or around my neck,” You’re cut off by a breathy moan, “In my hair. Down my throat,”
“Fuck,” His hand slips beneath his waistband to tease the soft skin below his navel, “Tell - tell me what you’re doing,”
Your chest gets tight with excitement. This tension that’s formed between both you and Armin, and with yourself, will finally be taken care of.
You push your finger in farther, mouth dropping open at the sensation of something finally filling you. Your arms go lax and your eyes almost cross with the sensation. It was absolutely embarrassing.
“Touching myself… and - and wishing it was your fingers instead of mine,” You explain, your knuckles finally reaching your pelvis.
Your fingers weren’t nearly as long as Armin’s were, nor as thick, but they would have to do. You still fucked them in as deep as they would go until your wrist was sore. But you didn’t curl them how you wanted just yet.
“Jesus fuck,” Armin hisses, hastily shoving his hand down further until his cock is grasped bare between his fist, “How - how’s it feel?”
“‘feels good,” You breathe, your eyes flutter shut, “They’re so deep,”
“Fuck — are you wet… for me?” Armin stutters, wrapping his lithe fingers around his shaft and slowly tugging upwards until they slip over the tip and smear pre-cum over the head.
“Yeah, ‘s all for you — just for you,” You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “Want more,”
Armin’s hand tighten’s around his dick, but then he takes the liberty to pull his hand off and out of his pants to shove the waistband over his hips and down his thighs to free himself. His dick sits pretty against his lower stomach, dripping precum and his tip red and needy. He takes himself in his hand again.
“Take more. Do - do whatever you want, just tell me - tell me what you’re doing.” He begs.
At his words, you slip your finger out of yourself slowly with your breath getting caught up, and then you replace it with two — middle and ring finger.
“‘just put in another — there’s two now. It’s tight — ‘can’t,” You whine, feeling your legs twitch and cunt flutter around your fingers.
Armin strokes his cock to your voice, trying to keep it slow and steady so he doesn’t prematurely cum. He pulses in his hand with every syllable you speak, sending another pathetic drip of precum leaking out of the head.
“I wish I could feel you — ‘wanna feel you around my fingers and - and make you cum on my tongue,” He grits, “‘bet you’d taste so good,”
“Armin - Armin, I want you inside me. I wanna be filled,” You confess, finally allowing yourself to curl and press your fingers against that sweet spot inside you, “Oh fuck, I want it so bad,”
“I’d give it to you, I’d give you anything - anything you want,”
A stiff cry leaks from your throat and then you ask, “Are - are you hard for me?”
Armin realizes that he hasn’t told you that he was mirroring your actions on the other end of the line. He hasn’t told you that the hands you love so much were fisting the cock that you want to be filled by.
“God, yes - yeah. ‘so fucking hard for you, fucking my hand and everything — fuck,” He speaks quickly, worried that he’ll let out a groan if he doesn’t.
“I want your cock; want it in my mouth, wanna feel you inside me,”
“Yeah? You’d want that?” He asks, but his voice isn’t nearly as teasing as his words seemed to be. He was equally as submissive as you were to him. He was asking you as a form of reassurance and not dirty talk.
“Yeah, ‘bet you’d fill me so well... with your fingers and dick and - and with your cum,” You’re cut off by a moan, and your fingers begin to pull out and push back in compared to the former.
“Oh my god,” Armin whines, his hips bucking up into his hand and for a moment he has to lift his hand away to edge himself, “Whatever - whatever you want. I’ll give you anything.”
“‘just want you,” You breathe, “I don’t want him, I want you,”
Armin’s head feels full, and every last confession that you give him only stuffs more cotton inside until he’s absolutely dizzy with it. He knows you don’t mean that, you would never give up Eren, but it still swells his heart and has him beaming with pride.
“You don’t - you don’t mean that,” He breathes, trying to ground himself a little before he gets too carried away.
“I do, I do — I mean it. I’ve always wanted you — whole time,”
Armin groans, allowing his hand to return to his cock and he grips it tightly before pumping his hand over himself again.
“Me too,” He whines at the contact, “Made me… so fucking angry to - to see you with him,”
You already knew that. It was hard to miss the way his blue eyes turned dark with envy whenever Eren laid a hand on you, or the way his fists clenched when he would kiss you. You also never missed how his entire face lit up when he would get an opportunity alone with you, only if he knew that yours would do the same.
“I could - I could treat you so much better — so much better than he can.” His voice rumbles slightly with anger, frustration, desperation.
“‘know you would. You wouldn't leave me alone and - and needy,” You try and catch your breath but you can feel it slipping away, and your occasional gasps grow frequent.
“Mhm, I’d take care of you,” He swallows, “‘nd I’d give you what you want.”
“Anything I want?” You ask, pausing your movements for his answer.
“Fuck yeah — anything. What - what do you want?” He prods, searching for a specific answer, a specific confession that’ll make his entire body run warm.
There are a million things you want from Armin Arlert: his love, his time, his energy, his hand in yours. But only one could come to your lust-drunk mind right now, and only one sticks out from the others.
“Want you to fuck me,” You almost mewl at the thought of it “and make me yours,”
Armin’s hand stutters, his entire body twitching, and he lets out a broken-up moan that is so clear it almost sounds like he’s laying right next to you. It was lovely.
“Yeah?” He whines, knocking his head back against the headboard, eyes squeezing shut tightly like he’s trying to visualize it.
“Yeah, ‘want it so bad — so bad. I need it, ‘need your cock,”
To him, it sounds like you’re getting choked up. Like the pleasure and the idea is almost too much to handle. You’re overstimulating your brain as well as your body.
And his assumptions were absolutely correct. Your brain was going a mile a minute, but every single thought that ran through it was him, him, him — Armin.
“I’ll give it to you. ‘fill you up so good, ‘fuck you like I need it,” He seethes as he tightens his grip around the head of his cock particularly harder than before.
You’re shaking against your sheets now, chest sucking in staggered breaths as you listen closely to his airy groans. You always loved them, even going so far as saying that you savored the moment when he’d hit a limb on a table or something and let out a whine.
They were masculine, obviously, but there was this beautiful feminine and airy tilt to them that ensured that they would go straight to your center and make you warm all over. They were fed into your ear so gently, so sensually, but hit you so hard.
“I need it. ‘need you all over me.” You breathe, “On me, in me, under me — ‘need it all,”
Armin’s hips jump up against his hand again, his thighs flexing, and he pulls his phone away from his mouth to prevent the noise he let out from being too loud. But you heard it anyway, deeper and raspier than the ones from before, but so fucking hot.
“Whenever you want it — give me the word and I’ll give it to you,” He speaks through each breath, panting audibly.
Oh, but you want it now. You want him in your bed with you, beside you, feeling over your body, pushing you forward and over your high. You want his hands on your hips, in your hair, tugging you against him while he fills you over and over.
But that would never work — it would never work. Eren would know. Eren would find out so quickly. Even now, over a phone call, your brain still fleets for a moment and wonders if he’s already got an idea.
“I want it all the time but - but Eren could never know,” You’re almost sobbing now, completely overwhelmed with the idea of getting caught, paired with how strung up Armin has you.
It was frustrating. You needed Armin. He’s got you drunk off his voice alone and you needed him like a fish needs water. But it could never ever happen the way either of you wants it to.
Your words over the phone could never be reciprocated in person nor mentioned ever again. You couldn’t let Eren see the shifting dynamics between you two, you couldn’t even allow him to sense them.
Eren would catch on to every lingering touch and hushed whisper like it was nothing like it was a sixth sense. And the second he learned the truth, both of you would be done for.
“He won’t — promise. ‘just need you so bad.”
Yeah, and you needed him too.
“Armin, I’m — fuck — I’m so close,” You choke, your jaw dropping open as the warmth in your stomach begins to spread all around. Your wrist was cramping, and only later will you realize how long you were actually on a call with him.
“Let me hear you. I wanna hear you when you cum,” Armin pleads, growing hasty with the pumping of his fist over the length of him.
Both of you were getting sloppy with your actions. The fucking of your fingers was quick and rough, and if you weren’t so wet you would sweat it would hurt. And his fist was frantic, he was desperate to reach his high the same time you would reach yours.
You both would pretend it was real. That he was actually inside you, pounding his hips against yours and drawing you closer and closer. He’d groan into your ear as he tells you he’s cumming for you, and you’d tip over that edge together; releasing all over each other’s bodies and letting out pathetic moans into the skin beneath each other’s jaws.
“Wanna cum with you — want you to fill me with it,” You admit
“And see it — fuck — see it spill out of you,” Armin adds, choking up halfway through at the thought.
God, he’d kill to be able to see your cunt filled with him. To see his release spill out of you when he slips his dick out, coating his own cock in it — all milky white and his. To see you shake and tremble in the aftershocks of your orgasm, cunt still clenching for him and squeezing his cum out of you.
The thought fills both of your heads, and that’s the thing that finally tips you over.
“Oh God, Armin I’m - I’m cumming,” You sob, phone dropping down to the mattress as your now free hand grips ahold to the sheets beside it.
Your entire body gets tight, trembling under the pressure in which you’re flexing it. That buzzing, white-hot pleasure surges through every vein in your body, stemming from your stomach and fanning all the way to the tips of your fingers until all you feel is it. It makes your chest feel like jelly even though it’s taut, and it makes your legs feel like numb static even though the feeling of tenseness is quite prevalent.
“Fuck - fuck, me too. Shit,” Armin cries, head knocking back against his headboard and eyes screwing shut as tight as they can go.
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs, completely emptying them. They seemed to be tied shut at the pipes as well because once they were emptied he couldn’t seem to suck any air back in.
His mouth opens and closes as he gasps to fill his lungs, his entire body spasming as he releases all over his bare stomach that flexes beneath the milky white of his cum.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” He breathes as the final spurts of cum dribble down the length of him.
His chest rises and falls quickly as he finally gains back the ability to breathe, and he sucks in those breaths so hard. In through the nose, out through the mouth, Armin. His release remains dripping down his stomach as he lays there in the aftershocks, panting for his life, gripping onto the phone like he’s worried someone will steal it away from him.
His poor brain is all fogged and his eyes are still glassy from his orgasm. He’s a little disoriented, taking a few moments to process everything. He has to blink a few times to make out the scene before him.
It’s all still a little blurry. It all hit him like a truck and now he was trying to stand up in street.
He thinks it was the risk that made it all hit differently; the risk of getting caught by Eren, sneaking in this one call with you by secrecy. But on top of that, there was also you. You had played into his fantasy and made the hand clasped around his cock feel enough like your cunt that when he came he almost got knocked unconscious.
He grabs ahold of the sheets with his now spare hand, trying to ground himself. It helps a bit, and his breathing finally begins to slow after a good couple of minutes. But before he can even get out a word, he hears a series of beeps coming from your end of the line, followed by your voice.
JUNISFICS © 2021
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Hi, it's me Rei, to specify on what kind of comfort and example could be something like how s/o is feeling upset, tries to avoid/distance from Scara, and at some point, he has to confront them what's wrong, I'm not really sure how to explain it, but I hope this can give you an idea of what the story could be? I've seen lots of other prompts from stories like how all genshin males react to their s/o crying etc. This is kind of what I'm thinking, thanks again hope this helps - Rei
💌 — I hope you didn't feel like I forgot about you, very sorry I was kind of relaxing so I left this in my inbox for like a month and a half, also I didn't know how to continue so I just cut it a little short. 🙏
THE balladeer is a puppet, his master being the professor who constantly toys with the strings attached to his limbs. giving him the power to do whatever, one word of affirmation from the tsaritsa is enough to let dottore to do whatever he likes with him.
though he is a special case, the prototype who once lived a once peaceful life before the fatui saw him as a valuable asset, who wouldn't? it was already in their powers to twist his mind and leave him with the capability of little struggle and choice to obey.
he's yet another individual the tsaritsa can play around with until he has no more further use, it was always that. the tsaritsa has no more love for her people, nor do they.
scaramouche will be damned if they strip him off his feelings too, if so happens then he wouldn't feel the euphoric feeling he desperately tries to rid of when with you. in the end, he's just another boy who wishes that he could live a normal life as a normal person but if only a hollow shell of a body could only do so.
with his little emotions still in tact many would guess that he's perfectly capable of taking care and understanding basic human empathy however he wasn't even human to begin with. along with the fact that people barely approach him for a talk other than business, he's basically a lonely fool who drowns himself in denial.
his 'unlikable' character is a persona he put up to avoid getting attached to meaningless things such as friendships and perhaps love. even if he verbally shows how much he's against the idea, his heart soars in longing to fit in a crowd without being feared or even being held by a special someone.
thankfully you'd shown him how much important love is to a developing person. be it platonical or romantical love, one should always feel the love of someone. the feeling may even change throughout time and grow stronger.
as much as he hates to admit it, frustrating is the only words he'll form when faced with an unknown situation such as this.
lately, you've been more quiet and admittedly gloomy. scaramouche disregards it as a normal occurrence, negative emotions heavily impacts a character. it may drive them to a wall however it is yet another obstacle one must face head on, overcome and grow stronger.
everyday is a lesson, as time passes and years go by one will think back on their life, their embarassing moments, the mistakes they wish to change, regrets, so much more.
now he's realized, a little push by a loved one is enough to overcome problems, move on and become a more mature, and better person than yesterday.
"is there a problem with you?"
scaramouche stands infront of you with crossed arms, in his face. the resting bored look is present as usual, though he looks more... infuriated than usual.
your lips thinned, the familiar growing headache is already pumping in the back of your skull. "excuse me?" you mumble in feign ignorance, he scoffs.
he sighs, closing his eyes and reaching up to fix the slight tilt of his hat. "don't play as the idiot, you're obviously distressed or something and you keep avoiding me instead of being a whiny brat for my attention."
ah, so he's noticed? what a time to down your mood more.
the patience within you is less thicker by the growing seconds. so you do the first thing that comes, an instict: avoid.
"look, I'm sorry but I just have some stuff on my mind. If you mind, I have other matters to attend to." your mother wouldn't be proud at all when she sees you lying straight through your teeth, it wasn't a whole lie. maybe a half but still a lie nevertheless.
she'd be disappointed with you not letting your own lover help.
as you attempt to walk over, he briefly sends you a glance before gripping your arm not necessarily loose, but tight enough you keep you in your place.
"hm, I do mind."
there it was, the frustration.
you furrow your brows in a mix of confusion and annoyance. "what is your problem?"
"what is yours? you have something on your mind, and it isn't anything good. keeping it in won't help you, trust me." he huffs, rolling his eyes and finally letting go of your arm.
you pause, is he trying to console you? unfortunately for him, you're not exactly in a good mood to poke fun at him for doing such an out of character thing.
"leave me alone, please." he stares at you through narrowed eyes, deep in his... technically non-existent heart if it weren't for dottore. he feels it, your frustration.
"...stop, just tell me you idiot. I order you--"
the rope that ties your heavy, whirling emotions break and you're reduced to a sniffling angry and sad mess, he's taken aback when you burst into tears, releasing quiet hysterical sobs.
he's quiet when you lean your body against his still one for support, there isn't anything he can do much but letting you release it.
scaramouche places a hesitant palm over your back and he can only hope that no members or recruits happen to enter the particular room.
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