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#one of them is particularly Not Cute but it's comfy and maybe I can do some cute like leafy embroidery or something??

osaemu · 6 months

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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you and him kiss—a lot—while the stream's still going, but neither of you notice

contents: fem!reader. pda written by someone who doesn't particularly like pda. gets a little suggestive around the end. inumaki tells satoru 'kys' multiple times. not proofread.

author's note: kissin' and hope they caught us, whether they like or not, i wanna show you off, i wanna show you offff

"i swear you guys are really out to get me," satoru groans, addressing the flood of comments filling up his chatbox. he spins around in his chair, tilting his head back and exhaling when he stops. you watch him shake his hair out of his eyes and grin at the camera, just like he does every time he's getting ready to end the stream.

"okay, guys, that's enough, i gotta go," satoru says, right on cue. he partially turns around and shoots a rueful smile your way, taking a quick moment to admire the way you look all cozied up on his couch. and it's only an added bonus that you're even wearing his hoodie—the same one he wore on your first date.

turning back to the screen, satoru stretches his arms and waves. "see ya tomorrow, can't wait. except for you, toji, and inumaki too. fuck you guys," he adds, snorting when he sees their replies just a moment later.

inumaki: kys!!!

inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.

"aw, and we were almost about to set a new streak of one day without me kicking inumaki," satoru sighs, shaking his head dramatically. "maybe one day we'll even make it to two streams, but i think that'll take a couple centuries." satoru laughs and waves offhandedly, clicking the 'x' in the corner of his stream to end it.

he switches tabs to go back to his previous game's stats and turns around again, spinning his chair to face you. satoru opens his arms and beckons you with both his hands, a puppy-like shine in his eyes. "c'mere, lemme hold you for a little," he says, smiling wider when you begrudgingly get up from your spot on his couch.

"i was so comfy," you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk over to satoru. if his stream was still on, you'd probably be on camera now.

"i'll make you even comfier," satoru insists, grabbing your hand and tugging you into his lap. his arms snake around your waist and hold you snugly against his chest, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie. "you look so cute, wearin' my hoodie like that," he smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"satoru, your lips are cold," you grumble, leaning away from his mouth—but you don't put that much distance between you two, considering his snug grip on your torso. satoru ignores your protests and kisses you again, peppering kisses all over the side of your face.

"you're so—fuckin'—cute," satoru murmurs, punctuating each word with a kiss. his lips are soft and you can feel them warm up a little more with each press to your cheek. his minty breath tickles your face as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, decorating your face with his lips.

"what's the occasion?" you ask tentatively, looking at satoru's blushing face out of the corner of your eye. he tilts his head and shrugs, and you feel his chest rise and fall as he does so.

"do i need an excuse to kiss my girlfriend?" satoru replies cheekily, rubbing your tummy through the pockets of your hoodie. "my hands are cold, baby, wanna warm them up?"

"huh—"

satoru doesn't wait for an answer before he tugs your hands into your pockets with his, hiding a smile at the little indignant sound you make. "you're so cute, i just wanna eat you up," satoru mumbles, scrunching up his nose. his white hair falls into his eyes for the thousandth time, and he blows out a puff of air in an attempt to clear up his vision. it doesn't work—his hair just falls right back into his eyes.

so you extract your hands from where they're clasped in between satoru's and brush back his hair, fingertips lingering on the sides of his face. he turns his head and presses his lips to the palm of one of your hands, cold lips curling into a smile at the cat-like look on your face.

"how was the stream today?" you ask, leaning into his chest. satoru shrugs again, kissing the top of your head.

"fine, i won a couple rounds," satoru says indifferently. his attention is on you, only you—right now, his stream and his games are at the back of his mind. "don't change the subject, baby."

you huff in disbelief, nudging your elbow against his chest. "what even was the subject?"

"me wanting to eat you up," satoru replies instantly. he grins playfully, hugging you tighter and burying his face in your hair. "c'mon, you know you wanna—"

the flickering red dot in the top-right corner of his screen catches your eye, and you practically flinch out of his arms. satoru looks at you, confusion evident on every part of his face. "what is it, baby?"

you groan and lean away from him and closer to his table, dragging the mouse over to one of his tabs and clicking it open. and just like that, satoru realizes that this entire time you've been live. to thousands of people. for five whole minutes.

"oops," satoru says with a sheepish smile, scratching his head bashfully. you turn and shoot a venomous look at him, and he laughs nervously. "oh, uh, that's my bad, honey—"

"you're dead," you mutter, grinning when satoru shrinks back into his chair. satoru swallows and gives you a thumbs-up, gently nudging you out of the way to check the comments.

yuuji-itadori: aw they're so cute together :)

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better

inumaki: how does this loser have more streams than me. kys kys kys!!!!!

inumaki has been banned from the stream by satoru-gojo.

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wordy-little-witch · 18 days

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Silly cross guild stuff but focused on my main man, my boy, my blue wet rat blorbo-

Mihawk is absolutely OFFENDED to be a father. He never asked for the parent life, the parent life crashed into his island against his will TWICE and now he can't escape.

Zoro will not admit to it, but it's there. They're both emotionally stoic, but they Understand. They have the vibe. They know. They know each other knows. They know the other knows they know. It's A Thing.

Perona is Mihawk's little girl and she's his goth princess. The parental vibe is there, no doubt about that, they both know (mostly), but their differences in personality often result in fights.

Luckily, Mihawk winds up falling in with an equally flashy and equally emotional person as his daughter.

Perona and Buggy get on like a house on fire.

They can and WILL make it everyone's problem.

At first, there are some points of contention - Buggy's not one for goth looks (#trauma), and Perona doesn't find clowns particularly cute. They very quickly find a comfortable middle ground, where Buggy spoils her rotten with different styles and spa days while Perona helps him experiment with different outfits and aesthetics. It's so sweet, it's so cute, Croc+Hawk are suffering so much cuteness aggression. It's great.

A lot of evenings will find the two dark haired warlords retiring for the evening to find Buggy, Alvida, Perona (maybe Uta too bc I love her), all of them having a spa night. They have masks, nail polish, he's doing Perona's hair and Alvida is doing Uta's nails while the songstress is painting the mace wielder's toes. It's domestic and silly and sweet.

Buggy also really adores doing makeup and hair. It's a crossover from his adoration of performances and performing arts. He helps out when they do ACTUAL performances too, be it Big Top Centric or on Karai Bari, landlocked.

Perona and Uta are his favorite little practice dummies, and Alvida can even be persuaded with wine, hot gossip and praise to do the same.

Perona personally ADORES the basket weaved braids he does for her, suble little flicks of flashy eyeliner that adds a slight touch of a carnival/clownery vibe to her makeup.

Uta is torn between most split styles and this crisscross looping braid Buggy does which turns her hair into a pepperminty-wonderland. ((Also she has been debating bleaching/lightening her red, dying her white.... pink and blue are such comfy colors to her now...........))

It's especially adorable when Buggy teaches them some tips and tricks that transfer from performance to fighting, and they eventually even have a shared performance, hair done the same, makeup complementary but individualistic. It makes hearts MELT because the girls are simply SO HAPPY, Buggy is absolutely VIBRATING in joy.

The day they realize that, by their powers combined, they may even be able to rope Mihawk into it, too..... well.

That's a story for another time, huh?

#buggy the clown #perona #dracule mihawk #sir crocodie #uta #mama buggy #cross guild polycule #silly time

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captain-mj · 8 months

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Can we get a cowboy hat rule one short with a shop of your choice? Or a part 3 for the stripper AU did Ghost finish thinking about Soaps offer of dating? 👉👈🥺

Part 1 Part 2

Stripper au!! I can definitely do that!! They fuck in this one finally

Alejandro threw open Soap's office door before closing it with just as much gusto. "I have a date with Rodolfo!!"

Soap smiled. "That's great!"

Alejandro nodded. "I'm so happy. Something must have changed his minds, but he's finally said yes."

Soap had a funny feeling of a certain Simon Ghost Riley was behind it but he didn't say anything. "Good. Where do you plan on taking him?"

"Nicest restaurant I can. I'm going to be woo him." Alejandro grinned.

Soap nodded. "Have fun dude! I'm happy for you." He watched Alejandro leave, going straight to Gaz's office. Once he was sure he was gone, he texted Ghost. "Thanks for Ale."

"It was mostly for myself. Rudy was upset he hadn't come back in a few days. Said I could pull some strings if he'd finally ask the guy out."

"Well, thanks anyway."

"Of course, Johnny."

Soap stared at the text message for a minute, trying to think of a response when Ghost sent a follow up text.

"I've been thinking."

"Made a decision?"

"You really have no ulterior motive other than getting dicked down. It's funny."

"No, no. Not just dicked down. I want to wine and dine you too."

Ghost took a while to respond. "You a gentleman, huh? Alright. Come to my office."

Soap rushed out and over to Ghost's office. He knocked excitedly and Ghost opened the door. His mask was up and he was in a dark green cardigan that looked oversized despite how big he was.

Simon was... well. Dorky. Soft. Always dressed in comfy but still dark clothing.

Johnny felt such a rush of affection for him. Simon lost a tiny bit of the confidence he had when he saw the lovestruck look on Johnny's face.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Being sappy. Do I have to take my shirt off to seem cool to you?"

"Nah, but I do think it would be nice."

Simon rolled his eyes and motioned for him to come in. Johnny did what he was supposed to and followed after him, grinning like an idiot.

Ghost sighed and locked the door. "Fine. I'll date you. Only because you've been so cute about it."

Soap threw his hands up in a cheer before quickly bringing them back down when Ghost turned to look at him. He got to see him laugh.

Simon took his mask off carefully. "It's okay. If you need to do a little celebration, I'd love to watch." The scarring. It look old, clearly stuff from childhood even if Soap couldn't think of a reason why a child would have a snake that close to their face.

Johnny smiled. "Nae, I'm much more interested in the bonnie in from of me."

"Bonnie?"

"Means pretty."

Soap felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at Ghost's blush. His whole face turned red, all the way down his neck. "Shut up."

"Aye? You're bashful?"

Ghost scoffed but he couldn't hide it.

Soap grabbed his cardigan carefully, not wanting to move too fast just yet. "You do look nice. Thought I'd say it in the Queen's english in case you had any doubts."

Ghost looked down at him and shook his head. "I'm already regretting my decision."

Before Soap could think of something clever or even something smart, Ghost leaned down a little. He kissed Soap's cheek. "Maybe you can give me the lap dance next time. So we're even."

Soap turned bright red and had to look away.

Ghost laughed. "Now who's a bashful bonnie."

Soap swiped at him and laughed. "Oh fuck off. So our first date."

"I was thinking right now. Coffee."

"This is why you're the man for me, Ghostie."

Ghost hit his shoulder but without his mask, Soap could see him blushing. Before they departed, Ghost unfortunately put the mask back on, fortunately though, he did let Soap get a kiss before he did.

Soap followed him like a moth to a particularly bright lamp. He sat with him at a coffeeshop and ordered his drink before talking with him for a few minutes.

Then hours.

Then it hit night and they were still there. Talking.

The poor barista had to gently tell them they needed to leave since the place was closed.

"Want dinner?" Soap asked, smiling at him.

Ghost nodded. "I could eat."

Somehow, they ended up at Soap's place. Soap was pressed to his counter, Ghost kissing frantically down his neck and chest.

Ghost picked him up by his thighs and put him on the counter, kissing him properly without having to lean down. He slotted perfectly between Soap's thighs.

Soap pulled away, putting his hand firmly on Ghost's chest. "Simon."

"Yes?"

"I don't actually know how to lap dance. I'd just sit there like a dead fish."

Ghost stared at him, almost unnervingly long before kissing him. "God you're such a loser."

"Hey-"

Ghost started to unbutton his pants and Soap quickly shut up. He closed his eyes and groaned once Ghost finally got a hold of him. He had been thinking of this moment for weeks. Ever since he saw those leather bound thighs and lovely abs.

Soap had to stop him again though and Ghost glared, clearly telling him he better not be making another joke. "Don't want your hands."

Ghost leaned in, noses bumping each other. He then threw Soap over his shoulder and carried him towards the bedroom. He dropped Soap on the bed, watching him bounce before going through his drawers. "Where do you keep your lube?"

"Bottom drawer."

"Good boy."

Soap groaned and started to kick off all of his clothing. He grabbed one of his pillows and got comfortable on his stomach.

Ghost looked him over appreciatively once he found his target. He got on top of Soap and pressed him down a little. With one hand, he pulled his ass up, squeezing.

His hands were skillful and patient as they got Soap ready. Soap was not patient at all, thrashing and pushing himself back and telling Ghost to please speed it up.

Ghost ignored him, working him open over and over again. He took the rest of his clothing off and set it on top of Soap's clothing. He laid on top of him and pushed in, holding Soap in a death grip.

Soap buried his face in the pillows and groaned. "Holy fuck you're big." He arched his back, determined to get Ghost as deep as he could.

Ghost put his hand on the back of Soap's neck to pin him and rocked his hips gently. "Thank you. People at the club certainly like it."

Soap's eyes flashed and then narrowed. He pressed further back and grabbed Ghost's other hand, kissing it. The two of them moved back and forth in sync, something just working between them.

Soap groaned and his body tightened when he tensed. Ghost pressed tighter against his back and, although he was quiet, he was right in Soap's ear so he could hear him. Small groans and curses.

Soap bit his wrist and he arched. He tried his best to be quiet, but Ghost was dragging out noises Soap didn't know he was capable of making. Every thrust or grind was in just the right spots and Soap was pretty sure he only lasted as long as he had out of the fear of embarrassing himself.

Ghost sped up though and Jesus wept.

Soap came hard, untouched and so flustered he was sure Ghost could tell it wasn't all from exertion.

Ghost breathed gently right next to his ear. "Good lad. Let it all out for me."

Fucking hell.

Soap closed his eyes and felt his cock twitch.

"Is it okay if I come inside?"

He nodded quickly and bit the pillow as Ghost slammed into him. His eyes rolled back as he started to get overstimulated but he wanted, needed, Ghost to finish in him.

Ghost wrapped both arms around him and buried his face in his hair as he came, squeezing tight.

Soap reached up and ruffled his hair.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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fariesoiree · 6 months

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LEMON TART!

caution! mdni! 11k wrdz, bie is a little bit obsessed with you, he is also a bit ooc :3, black reader <3, fem reader, someone tries to steal your car, pet names, sexual themes, fingering, oral ( f receiving ), overstimulation but barely, you get spanked like once, use of the word cunt, cunny, pussy, i mention you having something pink like eleven billion times bc i luv pink, yes i do add links for outfits but you can totes ignore them, think that’s all lmk if i missed smthing pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

The day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

You’re on your way home from your pilates class, blissfully unaware of the interested eyes on you. Dressed in a baby pink athletic set and glistening with the sheen of sweat, you take a swig of water from the matching pink bottle. The keys to your gray Jaguar convertible dangle at your fingertips.

Truthfully, Hobie doesn’t visit that area much. He’s only there to cure his boredom, in search of a quick fix. When there isn’t a lot of crime to stop or he decides that day he simply doesn’t care enough, he sits in shopping centers. He likes to play this little game and see how many kids he could keep from running into the street without their parents’ watchful eyes.

He has just gotten comfy on his perch after “saving” his third child when he spots you walking out the glass doors of some overpriced gym. The way the sun bounces off your melanated skin almost makes you seem saintly. He swears he even hears angelic singing in the background. Hobie can’t seem to keep his eyes off you while you prance into your car. His chest tugs when you disappear from his sight, seated behind tinted windows. He almost chases after you when you drive off, disappearing into the crowd of other civilians living their mundane lives.

Hobie finds himself having to restrain himself, gripping the ledge of the building. He is already hated in the public eye. No one appreciates his borderline heroic acts, although he wouldn’t call it that himself. They don’t even appreciate the riots he starts in the name of a better world. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s saved the public from disastrous events but they didn’t care and he didn’t mind. Hobie actually prefers to deviate from what was accepted but he fells this would be too far. To follow an innocent woman on her way home? He would never cross that line, in costume or not.

Instead, he opts for visiting this location every Wednesday at 10:27 AM. Just ten minutes before your class would be released and you’d walk out wearing some cute color that made you look tempting. Each time, you’d be glowing with the aftereffects of a workout and each time he’d have to restrain himself from tailing you. It was his routine. He’d always be in his spot and you’d always be in yours, lives never intersecting.

Until.

Wednesday at 10:24 AM, Hobie sits in his spot. Sometimes he’d look off in the distance and daydream about your future together, sometimes he’d stare at the glass windows and hope to catch a glimpse of you on your way out. It’s just as sunshiney as any other day, the birds accompanying his thoughts of euphoria to spend forever with you.

He kicks his feet over the side of the ledge and swings them aimlessly. Time couldn’t pass any slower, could it? Keeping you from each other, from maybe possibly crossing paths just this once. The thought made him smile. As if you’d ever cross paths. Too many risks with that one.

His eyes land on a man wandering in the parking lot. There is nothing particularly interesting about him but Hobie still feels that itch in his palms, the tickle on the back of his neck. He tilts his head to the side and observes the man slowly making his way through the parking lot. He seems to take a particular interest in the cars across the street. The man never actually touches the cars. He just takes a peak at the back of them, maybe the rear window. It can easily be mistaken for searching for his car in the lot but there isn’t that much traffic. Not to mention, Hobie has enough practice to know better.

He watches the man take one final peak at a familiar gray convertible. So familiar he could spout the license plate off the top of his head or point out the Hello Kitty sticker on the bumper in a room full of them.

Sure Hobie would have swung over even if it wasn’t your car but he couldn’t ignore the intense tug at his heart. He fwips his web over to a light pole and jumps off the building without a second thought. To be honest, he didn’t truly have a plan. The only sound he can hear is the rushing blood in his head and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his brain. Hobie knows he has to stop him and that’s all he has going for him.

“What’cha up to here, man.” He lands on the pavement behind the man, hands on his hips and gesturing to the scene. “Anything I can help with?”

The man’s head snaps up to meet Spider Punk's eyes. He licks his lips and his hand drops hesitantly to his back pocket. “I can’t find the keys to my car and I wanted to see if the doors were unlocked, you know? New technology and this whole push to start thing.”

“Mmm.” Hobie leans forward and peers inside the windows. While he already knew the small details you allowed him indirect access to, he didn’t need everyone else knowing Spider-punk has an infatuation. “You drive a car with a pink steering wheel cover and princess sticker on the dashboard? No judgment.”

The man only huffs. He bucks up to Hobie, nearly shoving him out the way to get to the door handle. “Listen man, I’m just trying to get in my car. What’s it to you? It’s not yours.”

“No but it’s mine.”

Both heads turn to spot you, standing a safe distance away. Your eyebrows are knit together and you're gripping your similarly pink gym bag. You’re wearing a gray set today, hair slicked back and tied down with a matching gray scarf. “What is going on here?”

You feel a burning feeling in your heart, accompanied with the bubbling anxiousness prickling your skin and causing you to sweat a bit more. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fucking hell.” The man grumbles distastefully. He doesn’t get a chance to run away, already being blasted against the neighboring car and restrained by thick webs. His body is sure to leave a small dent on the door but everyone knows Spider Punk isn’t exactly neat with his approach.

You look accusingly between Hobie and the perpetrator. Of course the one in the getup wasn’t trying to commit grand theft auto but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt your baby. You paid a pretty penny for her and it isn’t like he has the best track record. “What are you doing?” You restate from your safe spot.

Hobie’s mouth goes dry. Absolutely dry. If he tries to say anything right now the only thing that will leave his lips will be embarrassing squeaks. He is usually so much more composed than this. It isn’t like he doesn’t have women flocking to him constantly and occasionally, he does entertain them. He has enough life experience to run a brothel and here he is, getting cotton mouthed at the pretty girl he’s been watching for the last few weeks.

A breeze blows by and he gets a whiff of vanilla.

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I caught him trying to break in so I intercepted. I didn’t know it was yours. You might want to call the police.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” You reach into the front pocket to pull out your phone. How fitting to have a bedazzled case, pink and silver in a gleaming heart. “Did he get in or take anything or break anything? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had anyone steal my car before. Do I need to call my lawyer? Are we going to court or something?” You’re rambling and rushing, messily punching in the numbers. Your heartbeat is finally starting to dull but the warm rushing has yet to cease.

“You have a lawyer?” He supposes it makes sense. Although most people he knows don't have a lawyer on call, you would be someone who would. You must come from an affluent family with the whole driving Jaguars and having lawyers thing.

You pause, sniffing a bit. “Yeah…?” You sideways glance to nothing before meeting his eyes again.

There is a beat of silence between you both.

“Right. Anyway, no. He didn’t take anything. I’ve been patrolling the area and caught him before he did. Just, uh, finish up calling the police and report this guy.” Hobie felt kind of naked. He may have been fully dressed but he is itching to find somewhere to put his hands. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his jacket to hide them in so he crosses his arms instead.

“No, yeah. I will. Thank you so much. Is there something I can do to repay you? I feel a bit stupid and I left my car unlocked. I could, like, give you cash or something? You could get lunch.”

Oh, you’re just as sweet up close. The slight concern and guilt in your eyes. The way they sparkle and dance across his mask. Maybe you are trying to figure out who he is or engrave this moment in your memory like he is.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t need your money. I don’t take people’s money anyway.” He’s not quite sure if it conveys through the mask but he smiles. Gentle and honest. “Jus’ stay out of trouble and lock your doors, yeah?”

You dip your head sheepishly. How humiliating it is to have a crimestopper tell you something so obvious. It makes your stomach churn with embarrassment and your cheeks flush with warmth but you acknowledge his warning. It’s hard not to when he said it in such a buttery voice. You wonder if he looks as good as he sounds.

Hobie takes this opportunity to make a smooth exit, swinging away into the distance with his heart in his ears and a ridiculous grin on his face. He feels like a kid in the candy shop all over again. Except instead of being presented with a bunch of different options, he is presented with his favorite option.

It’s unbelievable that the previous parallel life lines finally crossed. Sure, it’s due to circumstances Hobie prefer you never experienced but they crossed nevertheless. He saved the girl of his dreams from the big bad monster and saw her smile mere steps away. Got to see the radiant aura you emit and the brilliant warmth that just has to have an effect on everyone around you.

That must be the reason you were targeted today. Even the worst people can’t ignore the huge target on your back. They are drawn in by the invisible tiara on your head and the glow of your cheeks. They can feel there was a princess in their presence and feel desperate to tear that innocence apart. That just won’t do. Hobie has to protect you from their rotten doings. You are untouchable, too perfect to be tainted. He can’t risk their dirt and grime coming near you. Sure, he feels somewhat obligated to protect everyone but there is no one at greater risk than you. No one as flawless, as pure.

You are clearly too silly to take care of yourself and you should be. The world should bend at your will and do what you want. It is foolish to expect you to look over your shoulder or lift a finger for your wellbeing. Someone should do that for you and that someone should be him.

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You appear to be completely oblivious to the outside world, too busy aiding your stumbling friend out of the club and into the Uber with one hand on her back and the other holding her hand. Her heels are long gone and in the hands of your other friend. All of your attention is completely devoted to her wellbeing but you can’t ignore the nagging feeling on the back of your neck.

It’s been there the past few days and only makes you feel more paranoid. There has been a sudden spike in Spider Punk appearances near you, a sudden spike in dangerous situations you have found yourself in. It’s as if you can’t take five steps out of your apartment without Spider Punk swinging through to save civilians from dangers you weren’t previously aware of. In some situations, it’s you.

Once again, you give the world behind you a fleeting look over your shoulder. As usual, you are only greeted with traffic and the night sky, full of glistening stars. See? You’re just being ludicrous. There’s no crazed monster trailing you and there is no need to feel so paranoid.

“☆,” your friend is whining in your ear. Her head is slumped over and rolling, accompanied by her groans. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, please don’t.” You let go of her hand to lift her head. Your eyes met hers, glazed from tears and bloodshot. “It would be so much better if you waited until we got you home.” You pat her cheek in hopes the feeling will distract her drunken mind from the sloshing alcohol in her stomach. It’s a weak attempt however it’s still an attempt. “If you throw up, they won’t let you in the car.”

Lottie can only cry out in irritation. “I am never going to drink alcohol ever again. It feels like Satan’s ass is in my stomach.” Her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her blonde locs are draped all over you and you indulge in the small amount of warmth provided.

“Don’t worry about it, ☆. I can get her home by myself. You live in the other direction and I’m staying over there tonight, anyway.” Rico has to look over Lottie’s shriveled form to meet your eyes. She looks apologetic about her girlfriend’s condition but you shrug it off and shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to make sure you guys get home safe and Lottie is gone. I don’t mind, really.” You’re almost insistent when you tell her. As concerned as you sound, deep down you know it is truly because you don’t want to go home on your own. You can’t shake the feeling that someone has their eyes on you from a distance and the last thing you want was to walk home on a busy night, alone.

Rico pulls the black Honda’s door open and ushers Lottie inside as smoothly as she can. “You’re such a sweetheart but you really don’t have to. We live thirty minutes in the opposite direction and these prices are obnoxious at this time of night. Just go home and call me as soon as you get there.”

You purse your lips. You have no intention of spending any money tonight to get home. You already spent the last of what you could to get in the club. You are just waiting for your dad to send you your weekly allowance. You can admit, you are a bit dumb with your money and your rules but can you really be to blame? You were born with a gold spoon in your month and no conception of how money works. Between lavish parties with socialites and getting anything you’ve ever asked for, you don’t have the best idea of what the world is like. However, your allowance is for fun and your paychecks are for household expenses. Is it your fault that you make much more in your allowance and could blow through it in a week if you wanted? Not at all.

“Okay,” you provide Rico with a less than satisfying tight smile. “Text me when you get home, Ri. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow. And let me know how Lottie is doing. Her hangover is gonna be insane.”

Rico is barely concerned with responding back. She’s both trying to wriggle her way into the car without disturbing the drunken girl and get them both safely buckled and situated. “M’kay. I’ll call you.”

“Bye, ☆! I love you so much!” The producer of the shriek is leaning against the coolness of the opposite window, reaching out symbolically to grab you. “You’re one of my best friends in the entire world and I don’t know what I would do withou –”

“Okay, bye!” Rico glances at you apologetically for the last time. Then, the door is slammed. The last you see is her hand comfortingly patting against her girlfriend’s thigh.

You watch the car drive away and sigh as a chill settles under your skin. Of course you don’t realize how truly cold it was outside until the warmth of your night has disappeared down the street. Not to mention what shots you did consume wore off the moment Lottie went off the rails. No longer could you enjoy your buzz. Instead, you have to get her home.

It ‘s a bit comical. Being marginally afraid of getting home alone on Halloween night. To be honest, this isn’t really how you planned your night to go. You were supposed to go out tonight with your friends and return back home with a guy. You were the tightest top you had with the smallest skirt you could find on purpose but now you are regretting it, standing on the sidewalk in fifty degree weather. And still, that sick, creeping feeling is nestled on the nape of your neck.

You scrunch your face in displeasure before starting your trek home. Fortunately, your luxury apartment was only fifteen minutes away and the city was still very much active. The only reason you feel an inkling of nervousness is due to the unusual feeling.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around yourself and you brush it off. It has to be nothing. There is no way you have such a persistent stalker who follows you everywhere. Sure, that is the definition of a stalker but it can’t happen to you, can it? It can’t. You simply won’t allow it.

You mumble about your irritation and tilt your gaze to the sky. The stars were beautiful but there was just something off about tonight. Maybe not in the sky but it feels like something is going to happen. As if you’re waiting to be a piece in a climatic story.

You grunt when someone brushes against you a bit too hard and meet the eyes of someone caught just as off guard as you.

“Sorry,” you speak in passing. Immediately after you find yourself cursing at yourself for being so careless. Pay attention when you walk. It’s a rule as old as time and naturally, you have a hard time following it.

You stop to take a break, maybe get out of your head. You’re leaning against the brick wall and pull out your phone. Perhaps it would be better to walk with some music. Keep you distracted from losing your mind over nothing. Or maybe not. Walking with noise in your ears while being paranoid, post robbery? Probably not a good idea.

Your fingers are fumbling across your phone screen. At this point, you’re ready to drop an extra band just to get an Uber. Already, you’re shivering from lack of physical activity. Occasionally, you can feel the weird glances from passing men, spotting a nearly vulnerable girl on the edge of sidewalk.

You’re just about to confirm your ride when a familiar tattered suit begins a slow stride towards you. Like a stunned idiot, anxious out of her mind, you squint at him. Not that you need particular aid seeing such a detailed and colorful suit, but it is a bit difficult to tell if that was the true Spider Punk or if a superfan decided to spend their entire savings on a high quality costume.

Fortunately for you, you got your confirmation.

“Yo? Aren’t you the girl with the car? The really nice one?”

“Huh?”

His voice is velvet in your ears, almost melting away your nervousness. Is it because he’s saved you in the past or because you just found yourself especially enamored by the richness of it all?

“Like, two weeks ago. Didn’t I help you out with your car and that guy?” As if you were longtime friends, Spider Punk strolls up to you. His hands are snug comfortably in the pockets in his fashionably tattered vest and for the first time, it truly registers just how tall he is.

You have to tilt your head up to view him, almost completely and it makes you feel particularly shy. Your words get caught in your throat, although you’re aware of the increasing time ticking between his question and your delayed response.

Spider Punk doesn’t fill the silence, however. He simply stands there with his head cocked to the side. His patience doesn’t help your fragile grasp on your sanity.

“Oh, uh yeah. Probably. I decided to press charges n’ stuff.” You wet your lips and turn your head away. At this rate, you are going to explode. This is overwhelming, stressful. You should be home right now. “What are you doing walking around? I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to be in public, like that.”

“Ah,” you see him turn his face to the sky and a chuckle leaves his lips. Even if you can’t see his face, you know he’s smiling. It’s obvious in how his mask pulls. “I never said I was a superhero, sweetheart. I just like protecting the people I care about.”

Your eyes meet again but instead of feeling flustered, you’re facing him with confusion. Was there an undertone or did he happen to be in the right place at the right time? “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

He doesn’t allow for a second of silence, springing the next question onto you almost immediately. “What are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late and pretty girls like you should be at home out of harm's way.”

“I . . . what?”

There’s another patience silence. Clearly, he isn’t interested in your stumbling and stuttering. You’re getting the point, now.

“I’m on my way home but I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never been in that type of confrontation before.” Admittedly, you haven’t experienced any confrontation. Rich girl living in a bubble and assuming she is untouchable. Pretty typical. It isn’t something you would admit to most people. Had it been anyone else, anyone who hasn’t seen some pretty crazy crimes, you would have just chalked it up to anxiety due to lack of sleep.

“Mmm,” Spider Punk takes a glance over his shoulder. Considering the night, no one is paying any attention to him. Like you, they assume he put a ton of hard work into that costume. “Would you like me to escort you back home? I’m just patrolling, anyway.”

“I thought you do this for people you care about.” Your smile is slow growing, both from the reassurance that he’ll be able to work as your bodyguard for the passing moments and to lighten the mood.

“I do.”

“Oh.” It wavered just as slowly as it developed.

“I can do both. Like I said, I’m just patrolling.” He shrugs. His hands are drawn from his pockets and gently guide you to begin your journey to your apartment. Although you can’t see it, you can feel the size on the small of your back. If he truly wanted, he could probably crush your skull. The thought itself isn’t all that attractive but when it leads to other suggestions on where he could put them or what he could do with them is where the real fun begins.

The walk back is voiceless. Sounds of the city fill the space where a conversation would be. You feel twitchy, hyper aware of the situation. There’s probably a serious conflict happening somewhere, and here you are hogging safety all to yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this. I can make it home myself or get a ride or something.” You twirl a passion twist around your finger, narrowing in on the loose ends slowly unraveling. That nagging feeling is gone with him by your side.

He nods and you miss his eyes lingering on the top of your head, slowly raking over your form and drinking in the details. “You probably can. I’ve been swinging through, though and you’ve been in the same spot for five minutes.” The pale green color of your top looks alluring on your skin, along with the pink flowers decorating the hem. Oh, how angelic you are. “What are you supposed to be?”

Your refusal to look and acknowledge him doesn’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t press about it. In his eyes, this is a rare opportunity to burn you and your absoluteness into his memory. He’s only been able to hear the sweetness of your voice twice now, directed to him. Stolen conversations and hidden glances weren’t truly enough.

“Nothing special. A sprite or an elf or something. I haven’t decided yet.” You’re looking at your own Halloween costume now. A bit silly to not know what you were after parading around in it but it’s cute and that’s all that matters. The night is over, any and it’s not like anyone is truly that curious. “What are you doing walking around? I know you said you’re patrolling but aren’t you concerned about being followed?”

“Eh,” the thought really rolls off his shoulders, “look around. There’s dozens of me everywhere. They’d have to go and target every single one and no one wants to do that. Too busy celebrating with their families or being miserable they don’t have one.”

The conversation kind of dies there. It gets a bit awkward, walking side by side with someone you barely met. Little do you know, Spider Punk knows you like the back of his hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, he planned to insert himself into your life eventually but tonight was not the way he thought it would go. However, it’s better than he imagined. Walking his favorite girl to the safety of her living space, although he already knew where you live.

He’s been there almost every night, perched on the ledge of the roof of the building across the street. He knows he said he wouldn’t but that’s where you are most vulnerable. There, he would sit, watching you walk here and there, dilly dally through your night routine. Finally, when you would get comfortable under the plush duvet and set your phone down on your nightstand is when he’d consider leaving. He’d make his departure only when you are sound asleep, drifting off into your dreamspace.

But tonight, tonight he gets to walk with you. Would it be too much to hope you invite him in? He could fake a cough for a glass of water and take a mental picture of your space from a first person view, only to go home and completely map it out on paper. How would he protect you if he didn’t know every miniscule detail about your life? He is the only thing standing between you and the evilness in this world.

The silence grows oddly comfortable. Spider Punk is too deep in thought but only he knows what about. You’re relishing in the fact that you truly haven’t felt comfort like this in a while. No longer does it feel like someone is watching you from a distance. After a while, you’re both approaching the bright lights in the lobby.

“This is my stop.” You stand with your arms clasped behind your back. It’s evident you need your keycard to get in but digging into your chest to pull it out wasn’t too appealing, right now. “I can make my way in so you can leave now. Thank you so much for walking me home.”

Hobie tilts his head. Under his mask, he’s awfully disappointed. As if he’d let you dance your way out of this. “I’ll walk you to your door. Gotta finish my job completely, ☆.”

You don’t remember telling him your name but he probably got it the last time you saw each other. Maybe superheroes just know that kind of stuff.

“You don’t have to do that!” You only tighten your grip behind your back. “I’m fine and our security is really good. I’m home now so it’s okay.” You shift under his stare and his silence. Is he always like this? Stubborn and refusing to argue back? “So you can go now…”

“Or you can open the door.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his side. You are certain if he didn’t have that mask on, he would be glaring at you right now. This has to be the sassiest man you know. He’s doing quite a bit just to walk you to your door.

You grumble some complaints and turn away, angling your body away from him and the glass doors. Your focus is the doors, though. The chances of you running into the residents are significantly higher than running into Spider Punk, again. You didn’t want your poor neighbors to be scarred with the image of you digging in between your boobs for your keycard. You turn back around to catch him just barely averting his gaze. At his height, it wasn’t too hard to peek over your shoulder and the temptation was just undeniable.

Your lips are pressed into a pout while you swipe the plastic square. The excitement bubbling in your stomach from attention is impossible to ignore but you lie to yourself and insist you’re so deeply bothered, you can feel it.

Like the gentleman he is, Spider Punk takes the door from you. He holds it open, following behind closely through the doorway. “Damn, this is nice.” He lets out a low whistle. His head draws a slow circle at the high ceilings and the floor to ceiling windows. “You really live like this, princess?”

You pout harder at his question. The amazement is normal, of course, but still. Somehow it all makes you feel alien, especially with the pet name attached. “Obviously.” You make a beeline to the elevator in an attempt to avoid the curious gazes directed your way.

With his long legs and therefore long stride, he doesn’t have to put in any effort to maintain your speed. “What’s the attitude for? Didn’t know I was offending you.” It’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s taunting you. It sounds sincere but somehow you doubt it.

“There is no attitude.” You retaliate back. You’re relentlessly jamming your finger on the elevator button. “You asked if I live here, I said obviously. That’s it.” Truthfully, not even you are sure what the bite back is for. First, you didn’t appreciate how he asked about your building. Then, you just found yourself stuck here. Really, this is all his fault.

Spider Punk leans against the wall beside you. His big boots scuff the floor beneath him but otherwise, he seems unphased. “Mmm,” he hums. His head lolls to the side. Your side. You’re ignoring the intense stare he’s giving you and you regret rushing the elevator now.

The door opens with a ding. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there are people already in it. While that means you don’t have to face whatever thoughts he has brewing to your response, you do have to deal with the awkwardness in front of a group of people, some of whom are too nosey for their own good.

As a result, the ride up is quiet. All the up to the fifty-second floor, neither of you speak a word. The door opens and you step out, noting that even in his brooding silence, Spider Punk lets you go first. Had it been any other man, a normal man, you would have ditched him at the front door but a “hero” wouldn’t come in and bombard you in your own space.

He follows you to your door, trailing on your heels. It’s unnerving how silent he is. He doesn’t look bothered but he merely watches you move. Watch you use your keycard to open your door, watch you turn the handle, and watch you turn your head back to his. “Okay. I’m home now.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” He retorts with a hint of a mocking tone. Clearly, he still feels a bit dishonored by your previous choice in tone. “I’m waiting for you to walk in. Like I said, gotta finish my job completely.”

“Oh. Right. You definitely said that before.” You sheepishly smile. The door to your apartment is pushed open, giving him a wide view of the pinked out living room. Not surprisingly enough, there are plenty of pastel colors, sanrio memorabilia, and flowers all over the place.

Shiny, white heated floors, stuffed animals strewn about. Plenty of comforting blankets and a flower shaped floor cushion in the corner. Looks just like you.

“I’d tell you how nice your place is but I don’t want you to bite my head off.”

Your shoulders drop, followed by an exasperated sigh. There is no way to explain he’s the reason you’re snappy and flustered. Him and his deep voice and calming nature. Him and his chivalry and big hands. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Thank you for your compliment.”

Spider Punk turns his head up as if he’s miffed but the corners of his mask pull into a small smile. “It’s fine. Couldn’t stay too mad at ya, anyway. Could I come in? You know, to use your bathroom. I’ll leave right after but night patrolling is a pretty big job and I have needs, too.”

You’re hesitant, glancing over your shoulder. You really shouldn’t. Your better judgment is screaming at you for allowing this to continue this far. Despite his supposed nobility, he is a man and you live alone. Still, he walked you all the way home and saved your baby the other day.

“Um, sure.” You push your door open farther. The much taller man saunters right in as if he’s all too familiar with the place.

He stops in the entryway. Once again, his hands have found their way into his pockets. “Which way am I going, sweetheart?” He’s got a pretty rough guideline of the direction but he couldn’t tell you that. You’d never speak to him again.

“It’s just down the hall, that way. It’ll be on your left.” You’re still undoing the straps of your heels, one hand on the wall to maintain your balance. The last time you checked, the guest bathroom is in perfect order. How fortunate all your friends gather in your room and use your bathroom, instead. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

You linger around just to watch him enter the bathroom before escaping to your room. In an ideal world, you’d be home alone and jump right into the shower. However, with a stranger within your property, you would much rather stick around to ensure he promptly makes his exit.

Once your feet touch the plush rug by your vanity, you begin un-readying yourself. Your butt-length twists are going up haphazardly into a bun. You’re pulling the hoops out your ears and the strip lashes off your eyes. The makeup remained, however. You were never the biggest fan of makeup wipes. They’re wasteful and never really get into your skin the way you want. Your skincare routine is much more thorough than that.

You pad your way over to your closet and pull out one of your pullover robes. With a quick glance casted at the door to safeguard your privacy, you begin peeling your clothes off you. Your top is tossed in the direction of your hamper before you’re moving onto the flowy brown skirt.

That’s when you see him.

You’re bent over, skirt halfway down your legs. Shirtless, braless, tits all out on display. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and frozen. You know he’s looking at you. His mask is pointed directly at you and even though you can’t see his expression, he has to be just as frozen as you are.

You snap back up, skirt coming up with you. You’re refusing to turn around, hands cupping your breasts while you reach for the robe. Your cheeks are burning and you have no idea if he’s still there or not. You didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, any boots smacking against the floor.

“You didn’t have to stop the show, ☆. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease but can’t say I don’t like it.”

You’re bumbling to pull the robe over your head. The fabric rolls and gets caught on itself but you’re persistent, tugging and pulling in all kinds of directions. “What are you doing here? This is the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.” You don’t turn around, not now, not ever. Instead, you tug on your hair next until the bun is loose and misshapen enough to mold and fit under the hood of the robe.

“You told me to tell you if I needed anything. I’m done and I’m leaving. Just happened to hear you make noise and rustling in here.”

You can hear him closing the space between you. Can feel the weight of his boots though the floor and his presence when he is eventually standing behind you. “Don’t gotta be shy about it. I’ve seen plenty in my life.” He knows it doesn’t sound the best or come out as comforting but his thoughts are a bit fogged over.

Sure, sometimes he gets glimpses of your body through your window but it’s nothing like this. You are always sure to change out of view or close your curtains, opening them when you’re finished. Sometimes he’d see the bottom of your ass peeking through your shorts. Sometimes he was lucky enough to see you parading around in tiny tops. Definitely didn’t compare to seeing your body up close.

“Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You scowling and muttering under your breath. You turn, finally, ignoring the burn of your cheeks and the rush of blood throughout your body. You’re ready to give him some sort of spiel about respecting your space and guiding him out the door but your voice is caught in your throat.

“Getting tired of the attitude, darlin’. You’re usually so sweet.” He’s so statuesque, towering over you. With his close proximity, to actually look you in the eyes, his chin is grazing his chest.

You encase your bottom lip between your teeth. If you were an idiot, which you might be for pushing this, you would have noticed the change in the air. Tensions, probably, growing much thicker than they should. “Usually?”

He doesn’t further explain. Instead, his eyes drift over to your discarded top in the corner. “What is with you tonight, ☆? You’re always so sweet. Did something happen while you were at the club? Or was it on the way back before I got you?”

“What? How did you know where I was?” Your eyes grow wide and your stomach churns. That feeling that someone was observing you from a distance, was that him? Who did you just invite in?

He ignores your question. Instead, he has a seat on the ottoman behind him with a sigh. He’s way too comfortable in your home. “Close the curtains, would you?”

You blink slowly. Nothing about this makes sense. His comfortability is unnerving and you hate the way he’s giving you requests in your own apartment you pay for. “I’m sorry? You want me to close my curtains?”

Spider Punk runs his hand down the front of his face. Your constant putting up a fight is exhausting him. He only has but so much unwavering patience, especially when he’s been anticipating this moment. “Yes, love. It would be really helpful if you could close the curtains so I can take my mask off.” He’s resorting to speaking to you like a child, slow and pitchy.

“Wait, what?” His confession to want to unmask right here, right now distracted you completely. You may not know much about his profession but you know that he is never to do. Doing right here in your apartment? That doesn’t sound quite right. “Why?”

“Oh my days!” He groans and in one swift motion, ejects his web to pull the white, blackout curtains shut. “I ask you to do one thing. One simple thing. Had you closed the curtains, I would have told you.” Spider Punk pulls his mask just as quickly as he closes the curtains. Beneath it, he reveals to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Dark chocolate skin as glowy as ever and equally dark eyes. His face is adorned with methodically placed piercings. A spider bite, a nose ring, a couple of ear and eyebrow piercings. Despite the laws of physics, his mask completely hid the length of the bulk of his locs. They fell all around, framing his face and between his eyes. Your knees buckle when he looks at you.

“Come here and please do it without the mouth. I’m doing my best and you’re really getting in the way of that.”

You feel like your body moves on it’s own. What’s possessed you to be so pliant, you have no idea. You know this is wrong, know that there is something unbalanced about this. There’s such a pretty man looking at you though, with the expectation that you can do no wrong. Who are you to deny yourself of indulging in the moment, especially when your earlier plans to get dicked down were foiled when you prioritized the health of your inebriated friend. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You’re suddenly standing in front of him before you realize and his hands fly up to your hips. Gently, he’s pushing you to the ground, only stopping when you’re kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to ask you once. What’s bothering you, pretty girl? You had a weird temperament all night and I know it’s something. You’ve never been this way before.”

You tilt your head, unintentionally pushing your cheek father into his hand. He runs his thumb over the chub of it and you can feel the rough calluses graze against your skin. “I don’t understand. You only met me twice.” Your eyelashes brush against his fingers.

“Mhm. We’ve only officially met twice. That’s not the answer to my question, though.” His hands leave your cheeks and snake around your waist, rubbing the expansion of your back, down to your hips.

You’re awfully unsatisfied with his reply and nearly push him for more until you feel the harsh squeeze on your ass. You can feel your pussy lips separating and the thin cloth of your panties is quick to stick to the thin layer of slick between your legs. The discomfort makes you squirm and though it doesn’t go unnoticed, it is ignored.

“Nothing is wrong,” you finally say. “I’m fine. Just anxious, I guess.” Your eyes are downcast to hide the lie in your eyes. You’re sure he knows the real reason and will try to drag it out of you but that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

SLAP! His hand rains down on your left cheek. He grins when you whimper and lean forward in an attempt to evade his grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not talking to me like this because you're anxious. What is it?”

Your head hangs low in anticipation. You don’t know how to find the words to say but you’re very aware the time is ticking. “I . . . It’s because . . .” Your following explanation is nothing but a mumble, too embarrassed to say it confidently.

“Didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Gotta speak up.” From behind, his hand yanks down the hood and gives a correctional tug to your hair until you’re facing him again. “Tell Hobie what’s botherin’ you.”

You want to pout and whine. Your stance is uncomfortable but the pull on your scalp is delicious. You can’t decide if you’re angry with him for putting you in the position or enjoying it so much you want to play your role. “It’s ‘cause I don’t know what to do around you. You make me nervous.”

At this, he perks up. It has the opposite effect on you. His grip tightens and the pull increases. He leans forward, his lips ghost over the space between your neck. “Do I? That’s not nice though, is it? Haven’t done anything to you. Didn’t put you in danger. Walked you home, made sure you’re safe and sound. I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No,” Your speech is shaky when he attaches his lips to your skin. Your hands are on his thighs, holding on to what little sanity you have left. It is entirely too easy to get lost in this, in him. Even when he’s doing little to nothing, you can feel him and his warmth everywhere. You press your thighs together to alleviate the gentle throb of your clit.

“Didn’t think so.”

It comes as a surprise to you when you’re suddenly bare. The cloth previously on your body is tugged off without a second thought. Your brain is spinning in an attempt to catch up. The breeze of the air entices your nipples to slowly erect. They’re budding enough to catch Hobie’s attention. He gently rolls them between his fingers, using this as an opportunity to monitor your expression. “When’s the last time someone touched you, pretty? The last time someone had you creamin’ on their shit.”

Your face is contorting in poorly hidden pleasure. You’re doing your best to maintain solid ground, occasionally pressing your legs into each other and rubbing them back and forth. He’s teasing, playing with you slowly and you hated it but you weren’t one to voice your opinion. “Mm, I- I just lost my virginity a few months ago so...”

“You poor little thing.” His voice is dripping with content. Hobie tenderly kisses your forehead. He removes his hands from your body. “Stand up, why don’t you? Let me help you out, doll.”

To no one’s surprise, there is no hesitation or lip service with this request. You’re quick to stand up, disregarding your eagerness and mostly naked body in front of his calmness and fully dressed self. You’re almost beaming when Hobie’s hands find purchase at you again. He’s tugging down both your skirt and black mesh panties. He doesn’t even have to ask you to aid him in removing them. You step out of the materials accordingly and kick them across the room.

He moves you around himself, pulling your body against his. Your hands are moved to rest against his shoulders and your leg is lifted onto the space beside him. “Stay just how I put you.” Hobie looks at you through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of your thigh. really taking his time to draw out the soft gasps as he made his way closer to your core. Hobie nips and bites at your skin on the way there. Occasionally, he leaves teeth marks behind. It’s only proper to leave something to remember him by in case he doesn’t get this opportunity again.

He has a grip with your thigh but the other hand wanders. It brushes up your leg and your stomach. It glides behind your back and fondles with the globes of your ass, pushing and kneading. It comes back around and slips between your legs. They softly run through against your folds and collect your wetness on the pads of his fingers.

You hum, almost ready to push against him. He’s taking this entirely too slow and it’s driving you crazy. “Hobie, please.” You whine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d push his hand in yourself.

He chuckles and pats your cunny. He can hear the moisture smacking and sloshing around under his fingertips. “Patience, angel. I’m gonna take care of her, promise.” Just as he promises, he pushes a finger deep inside you. You’re moan matches, slightly drawn out and slightly wobbly. Just as you suspected, his hands are huge. His fingers are thick and long. One hand could probably cover the majority of your torso. Having them sink so deeply into you is making you delirious.

“Well shit,” he massages your hip. His eyes are trained on your pussy. He’s entranced with the act of it, with his fingers drawing out more and more juices, with your pleas and pleasurable noises above his head. “You’re soaked.” It doesn’t take long for him to work you up to two fingers, slotting it next to the other.

You’re practically dripping down herself, grip tightening on his shoulders. You’re appreciative of his continuous grip on your leg because if it were your way, you wouldn’t be able to stand still. Not when he was constantly brushing against that spot you could barely reach yourself. “Oh my god, ‘Bie. There!” Your body falls forward, barely being held up when he continues to drill into you.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. Rather, he’s slouching underneath your body, tongue latching onto your clit. His eyes are barely lidded at the first taste. He swears you taste like a summer day, of strawberries and whip cream. He could spend all night here, drinking you in. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He can’t hear you. He can’t even hear himself moaning against your skin.

Hobie pulls his fingers out of you, ignoring your dissatisfied whines. In his right mind, he would have shushed you with gentle kisses and reassurance but he couldn’t form the words to. One taste got him pussydrunk and now he couldn’t stop.

Hobie scoots back onto your bed, clawing at your body to maintain the proximity. His eyes are wild and he doesn’t say a single thing. It’s obvious what he wants, though, when he lays back and yanks you on top of him. You shriek in surprise, nearly falling over his body. He has you situated, facing the growing tent in his pants.

“A warning would have been a little helpful.” You speak as if trying to lighten the mood, not realizing just how far gone Hobie really was. He only grunts in response and relocates your hips back over his face. One small taste is not enough. He was determined to get more out of you, as much as he wants. His arms hook you into places before he absolutely dives in.

And he was messy with it.

Hobie didn’t care if there was spit everywhere. He didn’t care if he drowns in it. In fact, he would love to. His tongue licks a fat stripe on your cunt. He can cum in his pants from the taste and your own moans. This is where he is meant to be, he’s sure of it. He’s only been here for a few minutes, seconds maybe, but he’s never felt more right.

He tongue probs around your entrance, experimentally. You gasp with a shaky breath, clenching the sheets. It encourages him to follow through, slurping and tongue fucking you. His vice grip keeps you settled. With how much you were squirming, you would have moved off or too far by now.

“Fucking- gonna-!” You can’t form your mouth around your words. Your brain is fuzzy with the intense bliss building in your core. You’re nearly ready to burst when Hobie begins rapid small circles on your bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, hair whipping free and falling all in his face but that’s the least of his worries. Not when you unintentionally push your hips down, allowing his tongue to push deeper and his fingers to pull more.

With one final nudge of his tongue and jerk of his fingers, you��re creaming all over his face. He’s grateful to lap it up, allowing you to ride through your high. He removes his fingers from what he’s sure is your now sensitive clit and his hands take their place on your hips. You shudder, and despite his wishes, eventually pry his hands off you. “I can’t.” You drag your body off his. Your chest heaves as you get comfortable on your back. You can still feel your cunny throbbing but she’s in no shape to be touched right now. “Too sensitive.”

If Hobie’s face says one thing, it’s that he’s displeased. He rolls over and looms over you, staring you down. His locs fall in his face but he doesn’t look bothered by it. He’s too busy hooking an arm under yours and moving you closer to the headboard. “Nah. I think you got a few more in you.”

Your eyes flash as he lifts you with ease. “Yeah, in a second.” You’re already ready to push him back, glare on deck. Before he even lets go of your side, he’s forced your hands to the headboard and webbed them in place.

“Can’t trust you to sit still and let me work.” Hobie hurriedly pecks your lips. “Won’t be too long so don’t be too mad at me.” He flashes you a smile as he retreats. You think he’s going to leave you until he begins his dance of removing his spidersuit. The stretchy material peels right off him and he’s back between your legs, resting on his shoulders.

Hobie doesn’t bother looking at you. He’s smiling at your cunny, just as glistening as when he left him. “Can’t believe you tried to keep me away from her. Just look at how much she missed me?” He plunges his finger inside you again, only to scoop up some of your cum and drag it out. “Breaking my heart, ☆.”

Your legs nearly close, leg’s drawing together at the knees. He draws out a mewl out of you, your body contorting in all different directions. “You’re so mean to me.” You whine, jerking even more so when Hobie delivers a slap on your pussy.

He feigns an apologetic expression, forcing your legs apart again. “I’m so mean to you? I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He lowers his head against your skin. Like the previous time, he’s pacifying on your clit again but it’s stronger. He’s determined, gaining momentum and pumping his tongue in your slit. You can’t help but tighten around his tongue, back arching against the wood. Was his tongue extra long or were you unable to maintain your composure?

Hobie is understanding, though. He takes it upon himself to keep you where he wants you. Despite your squirming and pushing, he pushes down on your stomach. With full access, he slurps and suckles. It’s an endless stream coming from your heavenly pussy and that’s just how he likes it. Hobie drinks it all in as if he was a starved man.

He pushes your legs wider, farther, curling and compacting your body. He folds you until your knees are nearly touching your ears. You swear you can feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your toes at this point. You’re tugging at the makeshift restraints. “Ohhh my god,” your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your throat when he strikes just the right spot, still spongy from your last orgasm.

Hobie peeks up at you, smirking into your folds. You’re just as pretty as he imagined. Prettier. Even with your eyes screwed closed and your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat.

You tug your hands again, straining to touch him. “Don’t stop! Please, please, please,” you chant. Your own nails dig into your skin, acrylics scratching the surface. The burn is a distant thought. “Let me touch you. I need – I need to touch you.”

Hobie messily kisses your slit when your essence leaks out and smears across your thighs. “Cum and I’ll think about it.”

His bruising grip on your hip keeps your lower body still. Despite his somewhat lanky frame, he’s still adorned with the basic spider-man muscles. Not to mention his habits kept him fit with all the swinging through the city and climbing on walls he does.

Your only surface to find purchase in is your headboard. Your nails scratch the wood and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but it’s the last thing in your mind. Not when hobie is alternating between his tongue and his fingers. He’s bumping against your clit strategically. Your body is fighting against his strength, wanting to arch and wriggle.

You press your head harder into the hard surface behind you, grateful for your hair acting as a pillow. Your toes begin to curl and once again, your legs are attempting to force their way together.

Hobie only forces them open farther. He displays his displeasure by wrapping his lips around your clit. He’s watching you through his eyelashes, growing more irritated with each squirm. You’re moving too much and it’s making it harder for him.

You don’t notice, not when you’re gasping for air. You draw in one big breath, the release prompting the synchronized release of your cum. Your chest is heaving, brushing against tbe tops go your thighs. Your body shakes and shudders at his relentless to fuck you through it.

“You’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be,” Hobie rises from his position between your legs. He kneels in front of your and languidly strokes his fingers inside you. It’s not enough pressure or movement to draw anything out of you but he can’t help it, can’t stop. “Sit still.”

The waterline of your eyes are just barely teary. You sniff, twisting your wrists under the webs. “I can’t. Tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.” You resist a pout by pressing your lips together. “Can you let my hands out now?”

It’s as if he didn’t hear you when he leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips. Hobie’s weight shifts underneath you and your question goes unanswered. You’re committing to your pout, eyes narrowing. “Hello? Are you gonna or what?”

Hobie pauses. His eyes are locked onto yours with his head tilted as if to say are you sure about that? “You makin’ demands now?” He pulls his raging dick out of his boxers. Too nervous to, you don’t let your gaze wander downwards. Still, you can tell his mushroom tip is puffy and leaking down his shaft. He may not have the girthiest dick but it’s long and swollen, craving your tight little cunt.

Your mouth slightly drops open when he rubs it through your folds. You’re silent and pliant, maybe out of nervousness for the situation you found yourself in. Of course he takes advantage of this.

“Hm? You tellin’ me what to do?” He reiterates his question, just barely pushing his tip back inside you, only to slip it out when you mewl. He isn’t surprised when you don’t answer. He’s already moving your legs farther down. He’s hungrily watching the way your pussy envelopes and welcomes him in. “Fuck, baby. You’re tighter than I imagined.” Even after him working you soft, you’re still just as flesh against him.

He can feel your walls spasm when he give an experimentally shallow thrust. You reel, falling nearly limp just from how deep he is. The position, the mating press he has you in gives him direct access to the deepest parts of you. Hobie doesn’t have to try too hard to reach your g-spot, just shy of hitting your cervix.

He massages the backs of your thighs, smugly taking in this vulnerable side about you. “How can I let you out if you can’t even take this. Can’t have you fighting me.”

Even in his best dreams, he didn’t think you’d feel this good. Didn’t think he’d be balls deep in his favorite girl Halloween night. Hr breathes sharply, eyes closing to truly focus on his pleasure. The small amount of sanity and restraint he’s been holding on to all night is slipping out of his reach, especially when he begins slow thrusts into you. You can’t move, not even if you wanted to. Not when he has you caged in, limiting your movement.

His hips stutter the first time you clock around him. “Fuck,” Hobie clenches his teeth. His tidy nails create little crescents in your skin. If he could push you into the mattress more, he would have. He needed to be so deep inside you that your bodies had no choice but to fuse together. He wants your body to remember his, to remember the shape of his cock, to maintain is so he can come back to soften you into putty again.

“Stop tryin’ to push me away.” Hobie spits out. He can feel your legs pushing against his hands and he hates it. It only makes him tighten his grip until he’s sure you’ll forever has his handprints there.

“Too much!” You hiccup. Tears fall over your cheeks as his pace picks up. He’s nonstop nudging your cervix, going way deeper than your last fuck months ago. You could just explode, pulling and pushing to find a position to alleviate the pressure but no matter where you go, Hobie is everywhere.

He doesn’t know where to focus. Your face, your tits, the spot where you were connected. His senses are overwhelmed. “Can’t be. I’m barely doing anything.” He’s vigorously plowing into you. The slap of skin between your bodies is an absolute symphony to him.

Your moans beg to differ, booming in the air of your room. The possibility of your neighbors hearing you is a distant thought. You couldn’t give a shit about them and their discomfort. They haven’t had the sexiest man alive fuck them into insanity.

You also don’t have to tell him you’re on the brink of release, not when you’re damn near cutting his dick in half. He’s forced to still, much to his displeasure. “Poor little thing.” Hobie fakes his pity. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “Look at me when I make you cum.” He demands, waiting until he’s certain your eyes are trained on him to dribble spit on your soaking cunt.

His thumb follows, easily gliding rapid ministrations across it. It’s all over the place, his thighs and yours. The smell of your sex feels the air. He’s intoxicated.

Your eyes are barely open but you’re doing your best. Your heartbeat races as you wind up tighter. Your mouth drops open but you can’t speak. Can’t say a thing. It’s all too paralyzing. The only sound you can make are hums of encouragement until one final thrust pushes you over the edge.

You convulse, a water stream comes flushing out your cunny. The webs over your wrist are the only thing that keeps you from clinging onto his chest when you jerk forward.

It comes so quickly, Hobie is yanking his cock out of you. He hovers over your body, furiously fisting it until ropes of his own cum flies out and decorates your chest. He’s out of breath, expectantly. It took all of his efforts to devour you as he really wanted.

You’re just as exhausted, lying limp and silent. At some point, your legs are softly placed back on the mattress and he removes the sticky web keeping you in place.

In an ideal world, he’d do it again but there’s no way you can handle it. He reckons he’s already pushed you past your limit.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” He massages your side. In contrast to his previous behavior, his hands are gentle. They soothe the dim ache settling into your muscles. “There you go. Come back to me.”

Hobie waits until you’re settled, waits until you’re smiling weakly. “Where’s your towels at?” His limited view from your window never showed him your linen closet. All he knows is that it’s somewhere in the hallway.

You shake your head and push yourself into seating. “I’d rather just shower.” You say. Your face contorts for a second at the feelings of your legs recovering from that punishing stretch. You don’t even have a moment to react before Hobie is grabbing at you again.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I help you?” His hands are at your waist again. You quizzically stare at him while he fusses over your frame. It’s not like it changes anything. He know what he did to you.

“No, no I’m just but . . . how do you know my name. Or where I was today?” Flashbacks of your conversation play through your head. You suddenly feel gross with the possibility that you just fucked a creep despite said creep being extremely attractive.

Hobie pressed his lips together. He tilts his head away while his eyes bounce off your white walls. He pushes his locs out of his eyes, seeming to weigh his words. “Well, mm, ever since we met that one time, you’re just everywhere I go.” He’s totally lying and he knows that but you don’t need to. If he told you the truth, you’d probably beat his ass in.

“What?”

He peeks over at you before becoming super interested in the fabric of your pink sheets. “Yeah. You don’t notice but I run into you a lot and your friends are kinda loud, y’know?” He picks off a piece of lint. “So I just caught it one day, I guess. ‘Nd like I said, I was patrolling the area. Saw you come out.” His story sounds bad, oddly strung together. He knows. But he also knows you’re a bit dumb, a bit too trusting. You let him in your apartment to pee, for christ’s sake.

“Oh,” you nod. Just as expected, you believe him. At least enough to let it go and ignore what concern you may feel. “And you did this because? I mean, you don’t do this with everyone you just meet do you?”

In your defense, you are just a civilian. You live a somewhat normal life. This sounds like a completely reasonable explanation, although you are hyper aware of the fact that you were are it naked. It bothers you that Hobie doesn’t care.

He’s lax, rubbing the silk cloth between his fingers. The corners of his mouth are upturned and you have to fight the urge to ask him what’s funny. “No. Just you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

You suppose it could be, though it doesn’t make sense to you. Maybe you aren’t sure how to wrap your head around the situation. So you don’t say anything in return. You just hum and nod because what were you supposed to say? This isn’t an everyday occurrence and you certainly weren’t expecting Spider Punk himself, tonight.

“Listen,” Hobie starts, “this is a lot, I know. Weren’t expecting it or whatever but at some point, you’re gonna miss me.” He grins all wide and smug. He is smug. He knows the impression he left behind. He knows what you like, what gets you going. You’ll miss him. “All I’m going to do is leave my number here, ‘kay? It’s completely up to you.”

You don’t like his arrogance. You don’t like it even more when he stands and strides right up to your nightstand. As he scribbles his number on your stack of sticky notes, you swear to yourself that you’re gonna throw it away. He’s too confident your your liking, too sure of himself. It’s almost as if he knows you’re not gonna get the memory of him plowing into you in a few weeks.

Not to his surprise, you don’t. It only takes him a few days before he’s hearing from you again, all hesitant and precious when you invite him over. And of course, he goes. Who was he to deny your right? Especially when the day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#partially edited #didn’t edit the smut bc i can’t read my own smut #it makes me CRINGE #but it’s done c:#may come back and edit it laterrr #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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nockfellblues · 1 year

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Integra with a partner who is an artist (painter/ singer/ all around performer) :D

Yes! I’ve always envisioned Integra as a lover of the arts- especially traditional art? She seems like she’d enjoy a peaceful trip to an art gallery or museum. Sorry for the delay on this one, between work, the Summer games showcases and being sick I didnt do much besides veg out whenever i was free this week lmao Anyways! Have some Integra being soft because, dammit, she deserves it 😤

Warnings: None

Integra definitely reworks her entire study so there’s room for her SO to work in the same space as her

Artist!SO will get a whole art corner with a beautiful custom easel and comfy desk space right next to the windows for optimal lighting and an inspiring view- whatever they need to spark and stoke their creative process

Would immediately say no if her SO asked her to model but secretly is super flattered. If they draw or paint her anyways, she’ll pretend to be annoyed but will cherish the hell out of it- They’ll find the work later tucked away in a safe place, framed safely so it wont smudge or crack.

Keeps a portfolio hidden in her desk of sketches her SO deemed not good enough and meant to toss. Alucard and Seras have caught onto this and actively keep an eye out for other loose drawings- they sneak them into her study between paperwork and folders like a fun little surprise. Seras finds her reactions soo sweet- its so hard to not say anything when she sees Integras eyes soften at the half-hearted sketch! So cute!

Integra finds the sounds of sketching comforting- that little scratchy noise as her SO absently hums to themself is like catharsis, especially when she’s dealing with a lot of stress

If her SO is sighing or muttering, having a tough time with conceptualizing something or is going through art block of some kind? She does get a little annoyed with it, but she understands.

Sets her work aside and comes up behind her SO to wrap her arms around their shoulders from behind. “If you sigh at it anymore im going to toss that canvas out the window. What’s the matter, love?” She means this entirely lovingly, but will absolutely do it.

Musician!SO would absolutely have a space in her study too- She’d move offices to a whole different room if the acoustics are good enough, she doesn’t care.

Maybe not the biggest fan of hearing her SO practicing a new peice of complex work- the repetition of practicing the same sections over and over to perfect them would get on her nerves after so long.

“Love, I adore you, but if you play that part one more time i’m going to lose it. Please, play literally anything else.” She means this with the utmost love and care, but hearing the same section over and over is killing her.

Adores when they play free form compositions. Just starting with a generally familiar melody and letting the music develop a life of its own? She could listen to them for hours. She will listen to them for hours.

Definitely will lose track of time listening to them play- Sometimes gets a little too distracted and zones out to the melody when she’s working on a particularly boring bit of paperwork. Before she knows it, its nearly dusk and she’s gotten little to nothing done. Honestly? worth it.

She cherishes her SOs hands so, so much. She knows how much of their passion is dependent on them and how devastating their loss or degradation could be.

In quiet moments Integra will softly trace the callouses on their hands, massaging their palms and wrists, setting a gentle kiss to the back of their knuckles- absolute reverence for the beautiful hands that can create so much that she loves.

Integra being soft with an SO makes my brain go fuzzy- I just want her to be happy dammit 😭

#Hellsing x reader #integra x reader #sir integra x reader #hellsing fanfiction #my writing

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the-roo-too · 1 year

Text

candy -> oh haewon ver

aka the fluff alphabet

admiration (what does she absolutely adore about you)- the fact that you stick with her through the goofy humour. i feel like she might’ve been worried she’d scare you off with the sarcastic-ish behaviour. every time you laugh along with her at something very haewon, she falls in love with you again

body (what’s her favourite body part of yours)- a thigh girl, she loves to squeeze them. no matter what figure you are, she adores your legs. personal pillows on the occasions she’s laying on you

cuddling (how she likes to cuddle)- she likes every way, but her favourite is just spooning you. she’s the leader and she likes having things in control :( also she can draw cute lil shapes on your tummy or thigh that way

dates (what’s her ideal date)- go dance with her please :(( really her ideal date would be her sitting in the studio, you come in with coffees for the both of you and you letting her teach you some silly dance <3

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you)- haewon 👏 is 👏 open 👏 with 👏 you👏 although her demeanour makes a slight impact on the way you interpret her

family (does she want one)- she already has it all planned out, you will have two sons, both of which will be cats

holding hands (does she like to hold hands)- your hands need to be swinging. it’s a physical need. bonus points if you’re jumping with your steps. but that’s only in your dorm 😭 she won’t ever jump around near her members or the teasing would get higher than her ego

injuries (what would she do if you got hurt)- she kinda stops in her tracks. my girl needs to process what she just saw. if it’s a minor thing she just pats your head 😭 ‘ur fine bby’ and walks away

jokes (does she like to joke around)- she’s naturally funny like 🤭 i don’t think she would go all out and spill some goofy ah jokes, she just relies on her natural charm

kisses (how does she like to kiss you)- anywhere to be honest. she loves kissing you! <33 wonie kisses your forehead, cheeks, nose, hands, etc. if she’s feeling particularly playful she’s give you a smooch and pull away with a loud ‘mwah’

love (what’s her love language)- very aggressive acts of service. you’re sitting and watching stars and she throws a blanket at you (also climbs to hog you under it). you mention you’re thirsty? haewon disappears for ten minutes and comes back with three different drinks that she knows you like and makes you drink them all so you’re not dehydrated

memory (what’s her favourite memory together)- it’s a bit mean, but when you were visiting her once during practice, you tipped over one of the girl’s water bottles. that made her laugh and she brings up the incident every couple weeks, of course only if you don’t mind it

nighttime (how does sleeping with her look like)- haewon is a teddy bear. soft and warm <33 you can cuddle up to her, she can cuddle up to you, she doesn’t really care. as long as you’re both comfy

oddity (what’s a quirky thing about her)- the goofy ah faces she makes. that’s it, i’m not explaining this one 🥲

pet names (what does she like to call you)- honey! because she’s a bear yk. also maybe bee, if you’re shorter than her. she uses love passively-aggressively ‘ma love 👹’

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)- she would love it if you wanted to dance with her. doesn’t even matter if it’s nmixx’s dances, she just wants to vibe together. but if you learn tank or o.o, haewon is gonna show you off to every living soul in jyp ent

rush (does she rush into things)- haewon? rushing something? nah. unless you say you want to learn her dance or something. she rushes into studio then

secrets (how open is she with you)- my girl physically fights her members if they give you comeback spoilers 😭 other than that, no secrets, you’re both very open. she drops facts from her day randomly so you know everything always

time (how long did it take for her to confess)- she made you confess 😭 in the sense that she was playing around with you, playfully jabbing at you so it looked like ‘you like me, don’t you~?’ ‘what if i do!’ ‘awh, i love you too!’

upset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset)- haewon just hugs you :(( if someone made you upset, their days are counted, but if you’re just having a bad day, she has all the hugs to give you. will probably also send little encouraging messages so you remember she loves you very much <33

visibility (is she afraid of the public opinion)- she will f i g h t and i am deadass serious. if you both come out and there is a single soul saying something bad about you, haewon has got some suspicious team tracking down their ip

warrior (how often do you fight)- haewon is naturally sarcastic so sometimes when you start fighting her over something, at first she might think your joking, especially because you don’t argue often.

x-ray (is she able to read you)- to some extent. as i said before, she sometimes doesn’t get if you’re both being serious or joking around, but she tries the best to always read the room. please give my girl bonus points for the effort :(((

yes (how would she propose to you)- she already proposed to me sorry guys she doesn’t actually make it all that romantic. haewon takes you out on a normal date, you’re in some park watching dogs and stuff. she suddenly says if you’d like to adopt a pet together after you get married and of course you agree because duh. she gets down on her knee and asks if you wanna go adopt a pet right now

zen (what makes her feel calm)- when haewon is stressed, she likes to just feel your presence around. best way if she can wrap her arm around you and just kind of side hug you :((

part of [the fluff series]

#haewon #nmixx imagines #nmixx x reader #bae #jiwoo #lily morrow #jinni #kyujin #sullyoon #haewon x reader #oh haewon x reader #nmixx #oh haewon

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

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Ok but what if mc ends up having one of those huge baby bellies. Imagine how much she’d have to waddle around and how shed just pout if she drops anything cause now she can’t reach it. And the minute she pouts she has all the alphas leaning down to pick it up for her cause god forbid their pup lift even a finger while she’s working so hard at creating their pup. Them going to the beach and digging out a little hole for her belly cause she’s been complaining she can’t sleep on her belly anymore. Them always having her favourite ice cream in the freezer in case she craves it. Yoongi massaging her ankles when they get sore from all the new weight. Namjoon rubbing body oil on her belly to ease the stretch marks while babbling about the baby. Jin giving in to all her cravings because as much as he wants to keep her healthy he just can’t say no to her cute little pout and waddle and cause he is just so happy she’s actually asking for food without thinking about calories. Hobi drying flowers to make into belly masks for her to use on spa nights. Jimin getting her the most comfy shoes and pregnancy pillows and also wanting to subtly (he’s not as subtle as he thinks) lay his hand in her belly and trace little pattens. Tae learning how to braid hair specifically so she can braid MCs hair so that it stays out of her face when she’s having a hot flush or morning sickness, and making sure to have to softest, gentlest makeup wipes for her face. Jk insisting on also getting a pregnancy pillow cause he wants to match her, him growling at the alphas when he can sense she needs space but feels to shy to say so. Them (particularly Namjoon) being so nervous about sex cause now there’s more of mc to accidentally hurt, but they still never say no when she asks cause she’s their little princess and how can they say no when she’s being such a good pup growing their baby. Noodle realising she’s pregnant before anyone else and sleeping on her belly every night until the pup is born. All of them freaking out everytime she gets a fake contraction even when she assures them it’s not time yet. Them freaking out even more when it really is time. Namjoon making them all take prenatal lessons at the hospital so that they are all 100% prepared to do everything for the pup. Them doing a huge maternity photoshoot. Pregnant mc and the pack turning into absolutely love sick puppies for her 🥺☺️ and like the absolute body worship they would give her during sex cause they never imagined just HOW beautiful she’d be while big and pregnant with their pup. (I may have a tiny breeding/pregnancy kink, can you tell?/ hj)

Oh my god this fucking ask~~~ honestly me too like what is it about the idea of being babied and fussed over to this extent. Pregnant bily m/c is something that I think about often especially how cut up the pack would get just when she announced it 🥺 Namjoon and Yoongi in particular are going to be wet lumps for days afterwords ESPECIALLY yoon,

god just imagine him touching her tummy absolutely bawling- unable to sleep just holding her and looking at her with disbelief in his eyes- and Namjoon staying up late just to keep watch over her cuzs shes his pup and she’s carrying their pup and just- ah- he’s gonna burst into tears at random moments, maybe when he just sees her doing her own thing and realizes she’s starting to show a little bit <3 she’d even probably start calling him something cute like “my big soggy alpha” cuz he cries all the time <3

On the subject of a big pregnancy belly just imagine if she couldn’t bend over to tie her does and Hobi bent down to do them for her, they’d fuss over her so much when going out of the house I’m talking zipping up her jacket for her because she can’t see the bottom- even taking her shoes off in the car because her ancles get so swollen <3

Oh my god though can you imagine how much angst morning sickness would bring like- Jin and Jungkook would just about be nesting on the bathroom floor to keep her comfortable. With jiminie and Namjoon staying so so close because their alphas are just about ready to pick her up and take her to the hospital.

Jin would definitely get her on a diet of jk’s special protein shakes full of electrolytes just to keep her body upto correct weight- so so nervous expecially if she actually lost weight in the first few weeks of pregnancy. Maybe they figure out one of the only ways that she keeps the food down is if she can’t smell the food and only can smell Yoongi’s scent which leads to a lot of sitting in the betas lap and keeping him close when she feels nauseous <3

On the subject of pregnancy sex…how bratty do you think the m/c would need to be to actually get fucked because I have a feeling that the whole pack would be like “nope our baby is too fragile to take a knot right now 🥰” meanwhile the m/c might have gotten a little addicted to Namjoon’s knot and now can’t go a week without it 🥺 he’d have to give it to her so gentle.

maybe he’d even get a little bit over protective and not let the pack touch her while knotted because his instincts make him go a little feral- I’m talking not even Jin’s muzzle would work on him. Also what if she complained about being too heavy but Namjoon sorta just picked her up and fucked her back down onto his cock anyways 🥰

Thank you for sending me this ask now I’m gonna nap thinking about how cute she’d be all pupped <3

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levmada · 2 years

Note

Can we please have more of fem!levi? (smut and fluff headcanons)

yes. male coded reader

//mentions of sexism

– I'm not saying you can't do this with regular Levi... but it's so easy to manhandle fem!Levi, and even if she makes a sour face and pretends she doesn't like it, it flusters her too: scooping her up in your arms when she's all marked up and sleepy after several rounds in bed... the way your fingertips sink into her thighs when you heft her up onto the counter to reach the high shelves. She's so flexible it's easy to bend and spread her into all sorts of positions... and give her piggy back rides if you beg.

– fem!Levi isn't that feminine presenting. She sometimes puts on a little bit of makeup when you're going out somewhere... but her complexion is so pale and her lashes so thick to her it renders eyeliner/mascara and blush unnecessary. If you want to talk about natural beauty, fem!Levi is IT.

Sometimes she wears a simple white summer dress that's all wavy around her lower thighs, maybe a cute ruffled blouse, but most of her closet is practical and in simple muted colors. The most she'll dress up is for you. Garters, kneesocks, pretty lingerie that makes her perky nipples just visible through one of those soft seamless bras... giving you a generous peek at her soft breasts. Her favorite lingerie is silky and white.

– Because it's... Levi, and as a woman, she sometimes gets told to smile more often by crusty old men. Because it would be tiresome to get an assault charge, she either spits out something sarcastic and rude or puts on one of those uncanny creepy smiles. Whenever she tries to make herself smile a little in pictures it turns out creepy (in her opinion... and yours too) anyway, and this method always scares the shit out those men, so it works nicely.

– Her hair isn't styled as an undercut, but it's still short, chopped and neat. She doesn't really care to do anything with it, but if you want to braid it or something, she melts back against you as you touch her hair. One of her favorite things is her hair being played with.

Same thing if you want to paint her nails or give her a cute facial. I just picture her keeping totally still as you grasp her hand and drag the tiny brush around as the stinging scent reminiscent of alcohol rises up from the nail polish bottle. She has short nails, and pretty, dainty hands. Small wrists too... but everything about her is small.

– She will never admit how much she likes being the little spoon. Her chest gets all warm with you cuddled up behind her. But laying on top of her is nice too. Her fingers rub your scalp while you rest your head on her soft breast.

She doesn't sleep well most times, but she's capable of falling asleep right on top of you with her face tucked under your chin when she's comfy around you and particularly exhausted.

– Any version of Levi is sensitive to touch and affection... as well as a bit of a brat. Fem!Levi gets so wet just from playing with her nipples. Flicking your tongue and god suckling gets her pressing her foot down on your lower back as a demand to get between her legs.

She's not hairless, but fem!Levi does like to keep up a feeling of neatness by shaving under her arms and her legs. Between her thighs she has a small bush (which is more healthy than being hairless anyway). Her clit peaks out of her soft folds, and as soon as you press a finger inside her, her pussy clamps down and you hear a tiny sigh. One finger curling inside her while you suck on her clit is enough to make her come. Especially if your nails are digging into her thighs to pin them open.

It's embarrassing for her to be loud, but any version of Levi again means she can't help it. Soft sighs and raspy gasps turn into sweet moans and hitched commands of faster, harder, I'm closeI'mclose shit that's so—

When being female is added to Levi's crazy stamina, you can make her come shaking and gasping so many times before she's too tired/sensitive to go another round. Which culminates in hours of sex if you have the time. Her favorite is laying underneath you pressed down by your full weight on top of her while you move deep and slow inside of her, almost lazily. Where you're not having sex to climax as much as to enjoy the intimacy of it.

– Levi is small. Fem!Levi is small. If she's smaller than you, even though she has never bought things oversized for herself on purpose, she would for you. It doesn't matter if you even mention it; she'd buy a big sweatshirt/sweater or three and conveniently plop it in your lap when you're cold. She likes to see you wearing her clothes.

– If you thought Levi was malewife material, just like the expectation for her to smile, she would be popular among her co-workers/friends because she's wife material. Levi doesn't give a shit about gender/relationship norms, let alone fitting into them: cleaning is simply her favorite thing (and she is very picky about doing it well), she likes to sew after a childhood without many clothes, and same with cooking. You support each other's hobbies. It's perfect.

It's the other people that bother her (mostly because the flirting and jokes bother you whenever you hear about them), even though she easily brushes them off. It's pretty sexist also.

Kuchel owned a lot of jewelry before she passed away when Levi was young, which she inherited. Levi starts to wear a simple silver band around on her left ring finger to work so people will leave her alone—the whole thing makes Levi not want to trouble you with it, but when you hear from a mutual friend that you and Levi apparently got married, you go ahead and surprise her with a real promise ring :')

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi x mc #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi x gender neutral reader #aot fluff #levi imagine #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman drabble #fem levi

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hybbart · 2 years

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thinking about that dark ranchers comic you did and it’s got me so mentally ill . In a good way .

Did you have anything else you wanted particularly to share about that? How do you think that would end? would the hermits eventually go looking??? would someone on empires find him????

I just wanted to share that I see you all in the comments enjoying the concept and some people talking about it being interesting for a fic and I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT BACK I REGRET MY ACTIONS PLEASE DON'T MAKE THE RANCHERS DARK AND SAD I'M A BIG WIMP I WANT THEM TO BE FLUFFY AND HAPPY 😭😭😭😭

The actual answer is that I'm also a hypocrit and have been thinking about evil ranchers and especially evil listener jimmy a lot recently since I watched One Piece Film Red... Please go listen to the playlist of Uta's songs by Ado.

My idea from the songs was Jimmy who is loved dearly by many going a bit insane from everyone eventually leaving (as aligned with the headcanon going around of him having abandonment issues) and slowly hunting each one of them down and keeping them in ironic prisons so he can have them all forever. Scott would be buried in a grave in a poppy field, Lizzie's would be in a conduit built at the bottom of the sea, Joel would be turned into a doll, and Martyn, Scar, and Fwhip I never decided, maybe the tumble town prison (but that seems less intense and interesting as the others you know?). I think the only one who would be able to stop him is watcher Grian but Grian is also on his list as his beloved brother and I imagine his would be stealing his eyes and trapping him in the void.

This has nothing to do with the comic other than that being Tango's prison in that case. I genuinely didn't really think any further about the comic, it was mostly based off the weird slightly guilt-trippy inflection Jimmy briefly had in his voice in the video before he realized how he sounded and who he was talking to. Everyone else was so wrapped up in the cuteness of the scene, I thought it would be funny to scare people a bit but instead everyone liked it and now I'm the only one scared!!

I imagine Scar or Grian would be the first to stumble on the situation. I think especially if it's Scar though it would just make Jimmy more upset and try to burn him. Of course, in the end, Jimmy really isn't all that great at the game and I imagine the others would easily overpower him. And there isn't much of a way to save a relationship after attempting to imprison them for eternity, y'know? Kinda a no possible happy ending scenario everyone just leaves traumatized type situation. (Which is why I don't care to think too hard about it for the pair that I specifically like cause of how comfy and supportive they are.)

#ask

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mamamittens · 2 months

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Well, we have a game plan but the coming weeks will be quite illuminating about if we'll need to take out loans to consolidate pre existing debt.

The "Oh Shit Sale" is still ongoing btw, which basically means half off commissions and the chance to sponsor a chapter of a fic I haven't updated for $20 bucks (ABSOLUTELY A LAST RESORT FOR ME AND NOT IN ANY WAY GOING TO CONTINUE ONCE I FEEL COMFORTABLE IN MY CURRENT FINANCIAL STRIFE).

I will be very glad to announce the sale has ended but for the moment, it is still very much active.

Anyway, time for something less depressing! Like rambling about my new pokemon OC until I feel able to go to sleep!

So, I have a very definied look for Edna during work hours. Very... Althetic chic? Idk, she's wearing leggings and sleeveless mock turtleneck, it's very much A Look. So I was trying to figure out what her 'comfy' wear would be.

Personality wise it would make sense for her to prefer comfy, soft fabrics. She doesn't like conflict despite being very fit, as her workout routine is stress relief, which is why her normal outfit is so athletically inclined. My roomie suggested sweater dresses? But I'm not committed yet.

Whatever style it is, I want it to be cute and very... Soft? Like, cuddling would be so fucking amazing. Perhaps sweats and thick sweaters. Like a lazy librarian?

And her hair... It's already down for her main look, save random braids from her Pokemon friends. And that much hair would be heavy as shit so idk if she'd pull it up. Doubt she'd bother wearing her Togapi beanie though. Maybe one big braid with little braids throughout since she has time to let them actually do her whole hair. Just a thick, chunky braid lol

I also put some thought into how her job works. I doubt they'd be so slave driving she'd drop off a package and immediately return. She'd likely have a bulk delivery to a region she needs to complete in a certain time frame and as long as she's not late, it's fine. So in her off hours she'd likely be cleaning out whatever housing she owns in the area of her aunt's personal affects, saving them for her folks when it's sentimental or donating. I like to imagine her ordering local, sometimes with her most recent troublesome client as an apology for making her jump through hoops to deliver a package THEY ORDERED.

I imagine all of her aunt's properties are decked out for housing pokemon and eggs. So she's well prepared for the shenanigans her aunt's charm brings.

As for why she doesn't do pokemon breeding, well aside from ruining the egg gag if it's on purpose, she just doesn't have the eye for it. Edna really loves pokemon so she wouldn't have the heart to critically evaluate a Pokemon's worth the way her aunt did. She could absolutely do it if given time, but she'd just end up adopting all the 'failed' attempts, which isn't viable. She also wouldn't be able to stand people that would pay for such services as they'd likely be very dismissive of any perceived lack in a pokemon.

For sleeping arrangements, Yolky has preferential treatment as a rule. And also because they wind up as the smallest in her party, even by Togepi/Togetic/Togekiss standards, being slightly smaller than the smallest known measurement. (I may fudge numbers a bit cause it's infamously unclear how tf these professors are measuring these pokemon, so maybe Yolky's final form is measured by wingspan?) And Baby and Danny sleep nearby depending on where they are. For storms, Danny likes to keep watch with Helper (who never really sleeps to begin with, literally keeping ghostly vigil and watching over any eggs) and Baby likes to sleep on Edna's legs if Danny is present. Particularly once they evolve into an alpha Sylveon (as yet another joke on Yolky's expense, he's so mad about that).

Parcel has insomnia so they often stay up with Helper but do enjoy napping as they travel on trains and such. If they can manage, they like sleeping against Edna's back/hair.

As part of the universal weirdness concerning people casually carrying around incredibly heavy pokemon, there are many times where Edna doesn't even notice one of her Pokemon are asleep in her hair, using braids as footholds or securing points. Usually Yolky, especially once Danny starts braiding her hair with his poison spit to prevent frizz. Accidentally boosts all of their poison resistance with this stunt but he's not sorry, just embarrassed.

If it's Yolky in her hair, he's often mistaken for a massive bow, not helped by his unique, shiny-bred appearance.

Ah, for reference, Baby is a shiny Eevee that evolves into Sylveon. Danny (Cadenza) is a shiny Toxitricity. Parcel is a shiny Delibird (from work, she doesn't hatch or find this one). And Helper (Little Helper) is a shiny-bred Chandelure from her aunt that she inherited with many properties and a 'Happy Egg Charm' that unbeknownst to Edna, spawns increasingly rare eggs on top of determining viability of eggs, compatibility of two pokemon, and if an egg is shiny.

It's the main gag, it's a whole thing and I'm having a blast imagining it.

Edna usually gives the Pokemon or eggs to local professors, fueling a massive conspiracy in every region about how tf she gets these rare eggs. Only the professor from her home region knows the truth cause he's familiar with her family and aunt. But he just never seems to get the chance to explain. Whoops.

#mittens update #mittens rambles #pokemon oc

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cptnleviackerman · 3 months

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em i have to know!! strawberry + raspberry swirl ♡♡

eeee thank u so much for sending these chloe!! <3 im gonna answer these for me and jean bec im really enjoying exploring and developing our lore tehehe

strawberry: before getting together, how did your F/O realize they had a crush on you? How did they act around you once they realized they were head over heels?

we've been friends for quite a long time, in the group and outside of it, so we used to hang out with eachother quite regularly—movie nights, zoo + aquarium trips, theme park trips (mostly w the group), coffee + dinner dates (we used to call them dates bec even though we were just friends we used to joke that it seemed like we were the only ones in the group who never dated anyone, so at least we had eachother lolol). you get the idea haha, you name it + we were probably doing it—just as friends

i think my feelings had been bubbling to the surface for maybe 3/4 months, but all it took from jean was one smack in the head from sasha and a chat with connie and he was like 🧍"oh shit i fancy her" and then he spent a week obsessing over whether or not he should ask me out. it was like he suddenly realised all at once that 1) he liked me, and 2) that even though we saw eachother all the time and did date-like things, they weren't actually, technically dates, and he really really wanted them to be dates. so there wasnt really a long period of time when he actively knew he was crushing on me and us officially dating lol but in the week or so before he asked me out he was definitely acting different lol it was so strange watching his cheeks redden whenever eren or someone teased us about how often we hung out. he even turned down my invitation to go get coffee after a lecture because he was so nervous to be alone with me ajsjsjsk hes so cute

raspberry swirl: how does your F/O cheer you up when you are feeling down?

he makes me laugh, i don't even know how he manages to do it every time im sad but he always puts a smile on my face. i just love that theres some things that he can do that make me happy no matter what. he also likes to hold me if im feeling particularly down, he'll hold his arms open for me and i practically dive right in everytime—its not my fault his chest is so comfy.... but he always takes the time to listen to me if im up for talking about what is making me sad (ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣ ہ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ✿) i love him

questions from this selfship ask game!!!

#aaaaa #im too obsessed with these:(((#PLSSSS #the questions are so cute #and i actually love having excuses to selfship lore all over the place tehehe #ESP with jean<3 i feel like i never speak about us #asks #jeanboyjean #ask games #mutuals #jean.boy

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m-jelly · 2 years

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Can you write a Levi x reader modern au where Levi’s a househusband and the reader is in the military and sometimes gets deployed for months at a time and it’s just a fluffy reunion with Levi and there kids after reader comes back from a particularly long deployment (maybe some *I missed you and I’m glad your back smut at the end)😏

Sure thing, I will do the beginnings of some smut instead of full smut, or it'll turn into a really long fic.

@kenkopanda-art <3

Home at last.

Pairing: Househusband!Levi x Military!Reader

Genre and tags: romance, fluff, cute, family, married life, serious talks, love, the start of smut at the end.

Concept: You finally come home after being deployed for months with some news for your husband and two kids. You first talk to your six-year-old about school and then your three-year-old about playing with daddy. You all have an important talk where you reveal some news, which changes your lives. During nap time, you both celebrate and start reminding each other how much you missed the other.

Warning: Suggestive content at the end and talks of sexual things.

Tag list: @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @levisbrat25 @strawberrybunny123 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6

You climbed out of the taxi and grabbed your bags as you felt a flutter in your heart. You were home, finally. You had so much to tell Levi and your two kids. You were excited about your news and knew it was a long time coming, but on top of that, you had one other thing.

You put your keys in the door and opened the front door. You quietly closed him and pushed your bags to the side. You snuck around the house and peered into the living room to see Levi with your youngest, Kuchel, on his lap as he read her a book. Evan was on the floor doing some homework for school. You couldn't believe your six-year-old had homework, but it was what the school wanted.

You went into the kitchen and made snacks and drinks for everyone. You walked back into the living room and placed everything down. "Snacks and drinks for your three."

Levi hummed. "Thanks honey."

Evan jumped to his feet. "MUMMY!"

Levi flinched and looked over. "Bunny!?"

Kuchel reached for you. "Mama!"

Evan ran straight for you. "Mummy!"

You picked him up and spun around with him. "Hello, my little man." You covered his face in kisses. "I missed you. Have you been a good boy?"

He nodded. "I have."

"How's school?"

He pulled at your military uniform. "Lots and lots of fun."

You kissed his cheek making him giggle. "I'm so glad." You put him down. "Let's say hello to Kuchel." You laughed as she jumped on the sofa and held her arms out. "I got you."

Kuchel hugged you tightly when you held her. "Mama. I missed you."

You gave her a tight cuddle. "I missed you too. Have you been having fun with daddy?"

"Yes, lots!"

You hummed a laugh. "I'm glad." You covered her face in kisses. "I have a certain daddy to say hello to." You placed her down and smiled at your husband with tears in his eyes. "Hi, bear."

Levi yanked you into his arms and held you so tight it knocked the wind out of you. He clung tightly to your body as he let the silent tears fall. "Welcome home."

"It's good to be home."

Levi pulled back a little before crashing his lips against yours. He smiled against your lips when he heard his kids giggling. He pulled back and looked at them. "Oi, what are you two up to?" He stalked towards them. "I'll...GET YOU!"

You giggled as your husband ran around the living room after his kids. You hummed softly and left them. You grabbed your bags and walked upstairs to your bedroom. You unpacked everything in the right places and put other things in the wash basket.

You pulled your things off and grabbed your comfy clothes. You paused a moment and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your body was covered in scars, but the one thing that stood out was your baby bump. You blushed and rubbed your belly. You'd been gone for three months and during that time, you'd not had your period.

The month before going, you and Levi had been very active. Levi usually went on a lovemaking marathon when you got the word you had to go. You were sure you got pregnant then because you were supposed to have your period before you went, but nothing happened. When you got to the base and got shipped off, you still hadn't gotten it. You alerted your medic and got put on watch and moved off from being a commanding officer on the front line to a commanding officer at the camp. You didn't tell Levi in your calls to him because you knew he would panic.

You dragged on your baggy clothes and turned to the bedroom door to hear Evan crying. "Evan?"

Levi walked in holding Evan. "He thought he dreamed you coming home."

"Aw, baby." You took him from Levi. "I'm right here. I was just getting changed. I'm so sorry."

Evan clung to you. "Don't leave again."

You sighed and rubbed his back. "I'm sorry I upset you."

"Don't go."

You kissed the side of his head. "Evan."

Levi hugged himself. "This happens a lot you know? I don't want you to feel bad, but both of them cry for you."

You whined a little. "Yeah..."

He gulped hard and looked away. "I do too."

You sighed. "Where's Kuchel?"

"Hugging a picture of you in the living room."

You welled up. "Right." You walked down to Kuchel to see her talking to your picture. "Kuchel?"

She looked over at you. "Mama?" She welled up. "You are home!"

You knelt down and hugged her. "I was just getting changed. I'm sorry." You sat on the floor and held her against you. "I'm sorry, both of you."

Levi sat behind you and hugged you. "I'm glad you're home."

You leaned back against Levi. "I am too. I actually have something to tell you all."

Levi leaned around and looked at you. "What is it?"

You sighed. "Well, I have been moved."

Levi whined. "Where?"

You smiled softly. "Here."

His eyes lit up. "What?"

You hummed a laugh. "I've been moved to the military base near our home. I'm no longer going to be sent away for months. I asked to be moved back because I miss you three. They said they've been thinking of it and offered me a training position at the camp. So, no more being sent away."

Evan gasped. "You're staying?"

You nodded. "That's right."

Kuchel squealed. "Mama stay!"

You laughed. "You're right. I will no longer be sent away. I now work at the base and will be training the new soldiers."

Levi nuzzled the crook of your neck as he shook a little, his tears of joy running down his cheeks. "I'm so glad."

You giggled. "I'm glad as well. I missed you three so much when I was gone. I hate being away from you for months. I just want to be home with you and now I can."

Levi leaned and kissed you. "Congratulations on the job."

"It's a pay increase too."

"That's amazing."

You hummed a laugh. "Thanks. I mean, we need the extra money."

Levi frowned. "We do?"

You nodded. "Yeah, with the baby coming, we need more money to pay for diapers and things."

Levi's eyes sparkled. "Baby?"

You nodded. "I found out when I was stationed. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd worry. Don't worry, I stayed at the camp and went nowhere near the fighting."

He rubbed your belly. "I understand. I freaked out when you found out you were pregnant with Evan. So, you made the right call." He smiled. "A baby."

You hummed a laugh. "That's right."

Evan lifted his head. "Baby?"

You nodded. "I have your baby brother or sister in my belly."

He gasped and placed his hands on your belly. "Baby!"

Kuchel clapped her hands. "Baby!"

You giggled. "Together again. One big happy family."

Levi kissed your shoulder. "You're right. I hate to break the moment, but it's nap time."

Kuchel rubbed her eyes. "Okay."

Evan pouted. "Mummy."

You kissed his forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

He smiled. "Okay!"

You picked up Kuchel and Evan making them giggle. You carried them upstairs and put Kuchel to bed first. You tucked her in and kissed her cheek. "Sleep well, my little angel. I'll see you in about two hours, okay?"

She nodded. "Night mama."

"Night."

You carried Evan to bed and tucked him in. "See you in a bit. Sleep well, my love."

He yawned. "Night mummy."

"Night." You left him and went downstairs. You sat on the sofa and sighed. "God, I feel like shit making them cry and making you cry."

Levi sat next to you. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

You looked over at him. "Don't be sorry. I can't imagine how hard it is for you. You have two young ones to look after and a wife out in the middle of a war-torn country who might not come back. It's a lot." You reached over and played with Levi's hair. "I'm so glad I'm home. I'm glad we're together and I'm glad I got the transfer. We can all be together, at last."

Levi slipped his hand on your thigh. He massaged the inside and moved up to your crotch. "I missed you and I'm glad you're home. I have a confession."

You blushed at him massaging. "What is it?"

He cupped your crotch and ran his thumb against your pubic area. "I might have masturbated a few times while you were gone. I thought of you the whole time." He blushed. "I used the clone you made of your pussy."

You smiled. "Well, I used the clone I made of your dick."

He leaned closer to your lips. "So, we fucked clones of each other."

You pushed your fingers into his undercut and scratched a little. You moved your other hand to the bulge in his trousers. "We did. I thought of you every time."

"Me too. You're the only woman in this world I want to fuck and cum inside."

You purred at him. "I love it when you cum inside me. I missed that."

Levi kissed and nipped your neck as he started moving his hand against you. "I have plenty of cum saved up for you. Can I fill you?"

You moaned a little. "Yes."

He stood up and offered his hand. "To the bedroom?"

You stood up and pressed yourself against Levi. "Remind me why I love your cock."

He lifted you up. "Easy."

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #fanfic #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot x you #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #jelly fanfics #levi heichou

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langdhon · 1 year

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𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? He likes to wear perfume and switches between masc and fem fragrances because he's chaotic and goes with what he feels like. It'll usually have an opium note to it, none of those super strong aftershave scents that sting in the nose. Always with a pinch of sweetness to it, less fruity and more vanilla direction. For those supernatural beings who can smell 'evil', he'll reek of decay and burnt flesh. Mmm~

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE? They are unnaturally warm, always, and soft. Given that he tends to leave the dirty work to others, there's no callousness to his skin. He also regularly uses hand creams because he's almost obsessed with smelling good ldkfjg

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY? A lot. His metabolism is a fast bitch, especially since he's such a powerhouse and still in a human body that needs energy. He'll go for something sweet in the morning, but still healthy because, I repeat, energy. Tendency for oatmeal with a variety of fruits, maybe a small spoon of honey mixed in. To that, coffee, of course. Throughout the day he'll go with savoury dishes, though he has no fixed meal times like lunch and supper. He eats when he wants to. He loves pasta. And likes meat, yet often eats fish instead since it has the better fats. Junkfood is a rarity. Michael keeps a balance between healthy nutrition that doesn't get him hungry in 2 hours again, with treats for his sweet tooth. And sometimes you just gotta rip a heart out of someone's chest and take a raw bitey bite too <3 Bonding time with dad included :)

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE? Nope, this would give him too much power.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS? This dude has some lol Especially lying sans shame when it suits him. But his worst habit has to be invading other people's personal spaces, especially when they don't want it. I'm not talking sexual proximity in that regard, mind you, guy has standards! Tied to this habit; the contrast that he'll get mad if someone else invades his personal space when he doesn't want them anywhere near. Brat who generally seems to lack a concept for other people's boundaries— on purpose. As for nervous ticks; he might drum his fingers against a glass/mug/table when within reach but usually tries to restrain himself in that regard. Self-control is the only control he's adamant on maintaining, so nobody around him will get the impression that he doesn't know what he's doing. He may or may not tend to stammer a little when nervous, though.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR? His hair is always down in public, a wee bit straightened too because it'd be a bit more wavy otherwise. When he's at home and has one of his lazy days + bad hair day, he might tie them into a bun because it's just handy. Attire is always black with a splash of red in the accesoires, elegant when in public with suits and long coats. Sometimes leather, others velvet. At home he might be found shirtless rather often, or resorts to throwing a hoodie over. Anything comfy that doesn't scream 'GET ONE WRINKLE IN AND YOU LOOK LIKE CRAP'. He loves to wear a cute little silk scarf when he goes out, either red or black, depending on what he's in the mood for. Sometimes he'll wear black nail polish just for funsies and his signature look will always be that little red eyeshadow. Which, ofc, he doesn't wear when he's staying at home. He wears one ring on the left hand's ring finger and two rings on the other hand (middle finger and pinky).

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO? Very much! If he likes you, that is. While he touches everyone for different reasons, unless they're particularly unkempt and stink miles against the wind, he'll show his affection with acts of service. Michael is selfish in nature, so when he does something for someone else out of his very own motivation... then they have to be special. His affection also includes actual effort at respect for boundaries and he'll even get a little goofy around you because he feels comfy enough. Comfy enough to show more of the child in him that never got to really be a child (namely because he skipped most of those early years in one night). He'll also protect and defend you. Another act of affection is that he won't drag you into his business until it gets inevitable, because it'd paint a target onto your back.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN? Usually on his side, either right or left, doesn't matter.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM? Depends. If he's pissed, he'll want everyone and their mom to know that he is ***upsetti spaghetti***, so he might be breaking something in a fit of rage. That's become rare since he's matured though. Usually, you won't hear him. And he likes to take advantage of that :)

TAGGED: @legacysouls ♥

TAGGING: @butscrewmefirst @bunnyblooded @colorsdevoid @eyeless-smiles @hybrid-royalty @little-elena @monstriiss @melpcmene @pagetorn @ravenskeeper @townwxtch @viiolencia and you!

#⛧ 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙍𝙐𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙎 // study.#that was fun!

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 1 year

Text

Skin & Scale (Part 28)

Lead number one takes them into the heart of the city where the upper class watch their theatrical performances.

Azula can't say that she hates it, she rather enjoys having an excuse to do her hair and makeup up nice and pretty. Mai helps her fashion her hair up into two twin buns with golden combs and jeweled hair sticks that boast floral cascades.

Earth Kingdom formal robes are quite comfy as well, she rather missed wearing silk instead of wool and whatever materials the Sun Warriors cut their attire from. Greens and creamy yellows aren't her best colors but TyLee says that she looks nice. Soft and cute to be exact, but nice all the same.

She always had thought that Earth Kingdom attire made her look more childlike and it isn't something that particularly pleases her. She thinks that it might be the style of headdress, or the way that the robes sit on her frame. The sleeves are so long, it makes her look smaller than she already is.

She dabs on a few more spots of blush. Decidedly, this only accentuates the innocent look. She lifts a rag to rub it away and start over…

"We should get going, the show will be starting soon and we'll need good spots if we're going to try to pick mother out." Zuko says.

Azuka quirks a brow. "Since when are you on time to events?"

"Maybe I found your lecture about council meeting attendance to be inspiring and life changing."

"Well of course." She holds her chin up. "I am a very inspiring…"

"And terrifying…"

She elects to ignore Sokka’s addition, "person."

"Inspiring and terrifying just about sums it up." Zuko agrees.

"What do you think!?" Iroh emerges from the adjoining room wearing a large grin and a ridiculous lion-turtle mask, fixed askew on his head.

She thinks that it is over the top and unnecessary, secondhand embarrassment inducing. But at the smiles and chuckles sounding around the room, she opts to keep this to herself. Perhaps if uncle knew just how much restraint she has, all of the comments she elects not to make, he would see her as such an unkind person.

"I should get a mask." Toph mumbles. "I could sneak on stage and mess with the script. It would be an unforgettable show."

“Don’t do that.” Katara grumbles.

“Oh come on, lighten up! We can become the Earth Kingdom’s best actresses!”

“I think that, that is a wonderful idea.” Iroh beams. He pulls the mask over his face.

“See, he gets it!” Toph spins around and snatches herself a cape. “If you don’t want to join me then Iroh can and you’ll regret it when he’s the second best actress in the Earth Kingdom and you aren’t.”

Azula folds her arms across her chest. “I thought that Zuko said that we were in a hurry. So why are we messing around with silly costumes?”

Iroh’s goofy grin droops into that familiar half frown that she is used to him fixing her with. It is as though she had called Zuzu an embarrassing failure rather than simply making a call–albeit an agitated one–to keep them all on task. Someone has to afterall. Agni forbid Iroh act like a grown man. Evidently she is tired of his silly antics, that false sense of gentleness. Or, rather, the gentleness he can spare everyone but her.

And then he has the audacity to pretend like he is trying to help. At least she herself and Ozai are honest and upfront about their resentments.

“Yes, I would rather like to get on with this.” Shaw says with a yawn. The woman is dressed quite prettily herself. She has chosen a dark green gown with little dragonflies dancing up on the fabric. While father stands at her side with his hand on her shoulder.

This also takes some getting used to–a mother and father who are actually affectionate with each other. A mother and father who stand in agreement instead of a shouting match.

“I did say that.” Zuko speaks up, if only to keep the relative peace.

Mother and father sense her distaste and by extension she can feel their respect for Iroh waning. They bite their tongues if only because of a kinder past. It is hard to imagine that they had taught him what he knows and she doesn’t doubt that it leaves him discontent to have friends turn on him so readily.

She supposes that she can offer him a little shred of sympathy there.

Katara also nods in agreement. “I think that we’re all set.”

.oOo.

Azula finds herself a seat. At first she can't place the source of the flutters blossoming in her tummy. Why her throat is tightening.

She fixes her eyes upon the show pamphlet. 'Underground: Life of a Badgermole.' She can't tell if she is attending a children's show or a show with pooer writing and forced metaphors. Either which way she can't imagine that it will hold a candle to Fire Nation theater.

But, regardless, it certainly reminds her of trips to Ember Island. Shimmering, golden days when it had seemed like their family could be a functional one. Or, at the very least, a distant but tolerable one.

The seat next to her dips but where she expects to see either mother or father she sees Sokka instead. “You look like you’re thinking too hard about something.” He observes.

“I’m thinking about how mother or father should be sitting here.”

Father promptly lifts Sokka from the chair and sits him in the next one over.

“Oh come on! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly enough to draw looks from the more uppity, pretentious theater attendees. She can’t tell if his wince is from the shame of having been handed several harsh ‘sshhh’s’ or from having been so easily ejected by father.

She is inclined to say that it is the latter. “Hey!” He declares just as loudly and the glowers intensify. “I was sitting there first.”

Mother slips into the other empty seat to the left of her. “He is making quite a scene.” She mutters.

“Indeed.” Azula agrees. “He’s got such a talent with that, that it’s almost admirable. Although he hasn’t topped Zuzu yet.”

He is practically bouncing up and down from one foot through the other. “You can’t just steal a man’s chair! Don’t dragons have an honor code.”

Ran cracks a smile. “We have a duty to our family. Do not impede. Your kind have already done that enough.”

“Why do you want to sit by me so badly anyhow?” Azula shrugs.

“Because Toph talks through the whole play, Katara and Zuko always complain about the acting, and Aang always accidentally nudges my seat. I can’t say for sure, but I feel like TyLee would talk even more than Toph!”

“She does yap through the whole show, yes.” Azula confirms. “What about Mai?”

“She’s too unenthusiastic. I want to be able to have an intellectual discussion about art and I think that I’ll find it here…” he points to father. “In this spot.”

“I am a dragon of culture.” Ran nods.

“I’m talking about Azula!” He pauses and sputters a quick, “although you’re also probably a great guy to have in depth discussions with, because she probably gets her…her…” he trails off and points to his own head. “Thinking brain stuff from you.”

“Thinking brain stuff?” Azula quirks a brow. “Are yous sure that you can handle a classy, sophisticated discussion?”

“Yes!” He insists. “And we could have a great one if I could sit in the spot that my butt touched first.”

Azula looks back at the pamphlet. “I’m not sure how intellectual we can get with a play about burrowing badgermoles.”

“We can find out.” He gives her a lopsided smile. “If I could have my seat back.” He locks eyes with father. Azula has to admit that she is rather impressed; father’s glare is scathing and unwavering. Although Sokka’s is awkward and tense, he holds it.

“Do you want to sit with the loud human?”

Azula hums, “I suppose that I can.”

Ran gives Sokka a pat on the shoulder and gestures to the now vacant spot.

“Where are you going to sit, father?”

Shaw stands, lets Ran take his new seat, and makes herself comfortable in his lap. “Right here.” He replies.

She finds herself swallowing another lump in her throat. So long ago, she remembers falling asleep, leaning against Ozai during act four or five of Love Amongst The Dragons. Zuko had dozed off during act three and was well into a fit of snores that truly only Ursa could love. She might have given him a good kick had she not been in Ozai’s lap by that point.

She had really felt like he truly loved her.

And maybe he had at once point. Maybe he had cherished her truly when her cheeks were still puffy and round and her hands were still tiny and easy to hold, when her mouth was missing a few teeth. And maybe for a moment, Ursa saw her as a child, a born human child just like Zuko. Because she remembers feeling Ursa’s hand on her back, rubbing in small circles. She remembers the tickle of Ozai’s beard on he forehead and the smell of his robes–ceder incense and ash–as she nuzzled into him.

She remembers waking up in her room the next day asking when they’d get to see another play.

“You didn’t even like the one we just went to.” Ozai had laughed. She remembers that laugh. And Ursa had too. They used to laugh a lot together.

And he had been right, she hated the play. But she loved the atmosphere. How, for just a moment, she was Ursa’s precious baby and Zuko was Ozai’s favorable son.

That was the real act, there in the crowd and not on the stage.

“Are you alright?” Sokka asks.

“I’m fine.” Azula mumbles. “Why do you ask?” She realizes that she had been gritting her teeth, bunching the fabric of her robes in her fists.

“You’re crying.”

“I am not.”

But mother wipes a single tear from her cheek.

“I’m fine.” Sometimes it just hits hard, the life that she could have had. The comforts and joys. The warmth and the love. All of that cast away for something cold and cruel. Mother and father know that she isn’t alright, it still bleeds through their bond.

It is both comforting and mortifying all at once. She can’t hide anything from them yet. She hasn’t mastered the ability. But father retracts himself from her mind and mother follows. They usually do when they start to detect her discomfort.

Though while they retreat mentally, mother cups her hand over Azula’s.

“Your family used to see plays together.” Sokka comments. “Zuko mentioned that on Ember Island. He was pretty somber about it too, especially when Katara found that baby picture of Ozai…”

Azula cracks a smile. “He always hated when Ursa pulled that out.”

“It brings everyone else joy.” Sokka chuckles. His sheepish grin fades with her own. “It’s bittersweet isn’t it?”

Azula nods. “I’ll be fine.” She insists again.

And she will be, because this time when the curtains close the acting will be done. The loving family that she had in the theater seat will be there when they get back to the Jasmine Dragon and remain endlessly after.

“It has just been a while since I’ve seen a play with family.”

Sokka nods, “well I’ll keep my mouth shut then and let you enjoy family time.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “You can talk, Sokka. Just don’t say dumb things.”

The curtains open and, at least for a time, she can forget about the things that trouble her. She thinks that it would do her well to actually turn her mind off for a change and decompress. Evidently she finds that Earth Kingdom theater is just as dull as what the Ember Island Players offer.

Sokka is shaking her awake and the curtains have closed.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Ran & Saw #Dragon Azula #Fanfiction #Zuko #Iroh

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banannabethchase · 1 year

Note

*waves* hi! i have a cute little prompt idea for you! matt's having a self-conscious day and mox decides to spoil him a little with attention and maybe throws his hoodie at him for good measure so he's wrapped up in something comfy. i hope this makes sense lmao

Cut to the Feeling - click for AO3

Mox has noticed that Matt is acting strangely. Well, more strangely than your average Matt. What he doesn't realize, though, is that him realizing Matt is being weird is weird for Mox himself.

Thank you SO MUCH for this prompt. It was exactly the fluffy fun I was hoping for <3 <3 Title from Carly Rae Jepsen's "Cut to the Feeling" because fluff in a song.

Matt is being…well, the only word Mox can come up with is weird, but that feels wrong, too. Matt’s always weird. This is different. He’s fidgeting all through the pre-show meetings. Eventually, Mox is able to figure out the exact move: Matt keeps yanking at this one bit of his hair, right at the top of his head, then pulling out his ponytail and redoing it. Runs his hand over his hair, yanks at it, pulls the ponytail out, redoes it. Like clockwork. Mox is compelled to follow him into the EVP locker room, just to see how long it takes before Matt realizes somebody else is in there.

He doesn’t. He just keeps pulling at and messing with his hair with this little pout on his face that makes Mox want to do something stupid.

“You know,” Mox says, on what is probably the fiftieth ponytail, “you keep pulling at it, you’re gonna just yank it out.”

Matt jumps about a foot, whirls around to see Mox. He wasn’t hiding, technically. It’s just that the Bucks have so much fucking luggage it’s easily for someone to hide behind it, make themselves smaller than necessary. “How long have you been there?!”

“Bout two or three minutes,” Mox replies, stretching out his legs in front of him as he settles into a chair. “Long enough to watch you freak out about your hair. What’s the deal?”

“It’s this stupid cowlick,” Matt grumbles, pushing down. If Mox really looks, he can see it. A little irregularity in the otherwise perfectly smooth head of the best hair in the locker room. “I got it a while back when I fell funny during a ladder match. Scraped off part of my scalp, and the hair grew back all curly.” He pushes down at it again, frowning, like it bothers him more knowing where it came from. “Stupid – usually I can get it under control, but today…” He trails off, growling in frustration.

“Maybe I can help.” The words are out before Mox can stop them. There are maybe four instance in the universe where he could see himself helping Matt Jackson, and at least two of them involve a zombie apocalypse, so he has no idea what the hell is coming out of his mouth. “Yeah, come on. I used to do braids for my sister when my mom was at work early.” He stands, walking over to Matt. His hands settle themselves on Matt’s shoulders without Mox's permission.

Matt’s voice is tiny when he sits in metal chair in front of a locker and says, “Okay.”

Mox works in silence as he works around the bumpy spot. He had a couple spots like this in the back of his head from some gnarly light tube bumps and one particularly interesting encounter with a broken whisk, but he never worried about it like Matt does. Matt does seem to relax as Mox works, though, leaning against the back of the chair and tilting his head as Mox directs. His eyes are closed.

Mox twists the strands over each other, a French braid on either side of Matt’s hair until he’s ready to join them in a single braid down the middle. He looks a little like one of those elves from Lord of the Rings, but prettier.

Oh, fuck. He’s getting fond.

“Okay,” Mox murmurs when he’s got the final tie done, voice too gentle. “Go take a look.”

Matt’s eyes flutter open and look up at Mox with that infuriating cow-eyed earnestness. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I could’a fucked it up.”

Matt practically beams at him. “I don’t think so.” He pulls out his phone, tilting back and forth. “Wow. This is…involved.”

Mox shrugs. “I figured a basic ponytail would make it easier for the bump to stand out. Make it a little more intricate, the curls blend in, you know?”

Matt does a bizarre arm movement. “I can’t see the back.”

“Want me to take a picture?”

Matt nods. “Yes, thank you.”

So goddamned polite, when he’s not being an arrogant prick. Mox is annoyed with how endeared he’s becoming. He snaps a few at different angles, sure to catch the places where the braids come together in what may be the cleanest braid he’s ever done. “Here you go.”

Matt scrolls through the photos, mouth open. “You’re – you’re really good at this.”

Mox shrugs. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“No kidding.” Matt reaches up and presses his hand lightly to the braid, like he’s still not convinced it’s on his head. “I can’t even figure out where the bump was.” He starts pushing around.

“You – quit that! You’ll mess it up!” Mox grabs Matt’s hand, and, fuck, his heart stutters.

Matt looks up at him, big brown eyes so goddamn sweet through long lashes, and Mox decides to make a terrible decision. He leans down, presses a kiss to Matt’s lips, fucks up every good decision he’s ever made.

It’s quick, though, chaste and gentle and definitely does not give Mox chills, because that would be lame.

“Oh,” Matt says, eyes wide. “Oh. That’s a thing that happened.”

Mox won’t be the one to break eye contact first. “Uh. Yup.”

Matt breaks into a grin. Mox feels like he’s basking in sunshine. Matt stands up, doesn’t break eye contact. “I, um. It could be a thing that happens again?”

Mox sighs, because he’s always been a sucker. It’s his fault for sneaking into the Bucks’ locker room, isn’t it. “It could.”

The fucker literally twirls a lock of hair around his finger. “You gonna lean down or are you gonna make me stand on my toes?”

With an eye roll, Mox rests his hand on the back of Matt’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss, a little firmer than before, something with a bit more of a bite behind it. Matt settles his hands on Mox’s waist, thumbs rubbing fascinating little patterns into his skin. When they break apart, Matt looks relaxed, which is not something Mox can say for himself.

“Maybe I should have vanity crises more often, if it gets me this,” Matt laughs.

Mox leans down and kisses Matt, because if Mox gets his tongue in Matt’s mouth, maybe he won’t be able to say anything ridiculous.

A ringing phone is what breaks them apart eventually.

“My alarm!” Matt says, looking, himself, alarmed. “I was supposed to be getting warmed up for my match, like, now.” He starts digging through his stuff, tassels and cans of spray tan becoming projectiles Mox only barely dodges. “Oh, come on. Where’s my hoodie?”

Mox sighs, because apparently he’s back in high school but, this time, he’s the big dumb jock. “Want my hoodie?”

Matt lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree. “Really?”

Mox pulls it off over his head, passes it to Matt. “Yeah. I’m the one who made it so you don’t have time to find yours.” He grins as Matt holds it in his hands. “Least I could do.”

Matt pulls it on without another word, over the braids with delicate precision. Mox gets a little warm with how it’s just the right side of too-big to be cozy and warm. “Okay,” Matt says. “Yeah, we – we gotta talk about this after my match. Like, definitely gotta talk.” He reaches out and squeezes Mox’s hand. He still hasn’t stopped glowing. “Um. Okay. Bye.”

Mox doesn’t let his hand go, though, and pulls him back. “One more for the road?”

“Okay, well. Yeah. I’m not gonna say no.”

Mox pulls Matt back to him for another kiss, and gives himself the luxury of, for once, not worrying about what happens next.

Mini Playlist (just as sugary sweet as the fic): Uh Oh - Junior Doctor Cross My Heart - Marianas Trench Cut to the Feeling - Carly Rae Jepsen Catch Your Wave - The Click Five

Visual reference for the described hairstyle in the fic

#bambihausen #in which Sara writes #MattMox #MoxMatt #WHICH TAG DO I USE WHO THE FUCK KNOWS!#Matt Jackson #Jon Moxley #wtf i like wrestling now???#This is like #Call a dentist levels of fluff #Get yourself a some peanut butter and make yourself a fluffernutter level of fluff #I had so much fun writing this

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