Okay, mob boss anakin with baby obi wan is chefs kiss, I need more like potentially a full story or more snippets (no pressure of course).
You mentioned its reverse age au. Do you have pictures of how you imagine obi wan and anakin. (Or how hayden and ewan looked in certain movies)
Ooo I don’t have pictures, but in my mind Obi-Wan has the baby faced long hair of early Ewan and I guess the age of Anakin puts him close to what Hayden looks like now!
Now imagining that when Obi-Wan runs after his cover has been blown, he also gets a haircut in the few days Anakin gives him before he comes and gets him—he’d been allowed by the police department to grow his hair out in order to blend in and not look so much like a detective. But since he thought he was just going back to his job, he gets it cut.
Anakin is dangerously disappointed. He…greatly enjoyed pulling on Obi-Wan’s hair.
(Obi-Wan grows it back out because he’s whipped for Anakin in any au but especially this au.)
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Imagine you're Dazai and you're 15.
You've just met this kid(also 15), who is loud and annoying and won't do a single thing you tell him to. Not only has he got a ridiculously strong ability but he has crazy control over it and he can handle himself in a fight. He's the leader of gang. The Port Mafia views him as a serious threat.
And you're forming your opinions as you're being made to team up with this brash annoying kid who keeps trampling on all your good plans with his own ideas. Clearly, he's used to doing what he wants when he wants and it grates on you.
The sooner this is over the better.
But then, it's not all bad. You don't really get to hang out with kids your age. Or kids in general, most of the people you know are adults (who also happen to be criminals). As annoying as he is, it's fun messing with each other. You go to an arcade together and make a silly bet.
He places his stakes, so you have to think of your own. Obviously, you come up with an ingenious idea. If he loses, this kid who does whatever he wants, he has to be your dog for life. It's the kind of dumb bet kids your age would make, right? You've heard that before.
You'll make him carry about some stuff with his ability and lord it over him for a while and it will be funny.
Only then his friends- members of his gang, The Sheep- walk in and he hides from them. Because of you. You are, after all, from a rival gang. You call them over just to mess with him.
And you watch the kid you got to know start to shrink. All his noise goes quiet. All his confidence dissipates. That annoyingly loud kid you've gotten used to, the one who won't do as you say, who argued back all the time, just stands there as his so-called friends chip away at him. You watch as they treat him like-
Like a dog.
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consider this short drabble a thank you gift for 1.5k followers!
mafia!141 masterlist
mafia!Simon x shy!fem!Reader: smut, oral (m receiving), brief p in v
"Can I suck your dick?"
Simon had just lined himself up at your entrance when those words left your mouth and he became as still as a statue when they registered in his mind. Positioned underneath him on the bed, you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes as if your request shocked even yourself. It was something you had thought about for quite some time; how Simon always seemed to give and yet rarely ask for anything in return, and you wanted to change that.
You just didn't think you'd blurt your thoughts out so suddenly like that.
Surprised, Simon leaned back to look at you while his hand still gripped his hardened cock. Shifting under his gaze, you propped yourself up on your elbows as you waited for his answer. You wished you hadn't said it so suddenly like you did, but the thought most likely would have never passed your lips if you had attempted to do it any other way.
"That what you want?" he asked.
Though he questioned you to ensure that was something you wanted of your own accord, you could see the dark glint of want in his eyes. Saw the way his tongue lightly wet his lips and how his hand squeezed the tip of his cock like he already imagined your mouth around him. Eagerly, you nodded as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, mind already racing about how you were supposed to do it properly.
"Yes... please."
After placing a short and heavy kiss on your lips, Simon slipped to the side, reversing your positions. He propped himself up on the plush pillows near the headboard while you sat between his legs where his thick and powerful thighs kept your corralled like an animal. With one hand still holding himself, Simon reached for your face with the other as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.
"Take your time, yeah?" he prompted. His dark eyes looked at you adoringly while his hips impatiently bucked under his own stimulation. "You can stop whenever you want."
Once again you nodded as you breathed out a simple confirmation before your hand replaced his. While you settled between his legs, you slowly stroked at him as you thumbed over the smooth jewelry of his piercings. Eventually your lips brushed against the warm tip of his cock, wetting your mouth with his precum.
As your mouth gently dropped open, you tried not to think too hard about everything. Simon always told you that type of stuff was supposed to come easy and natural, to not force it and just let your desires take control. So you did just that as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, mouth opening impossibly wide in order to accommodate the sheer girth of him.
He tasted salty, almost refreshingly so, and you couldn't help but swirl your tongue around his glands in an attempt to soak up more of that flavor. Simon's thighs tensed on either side of you, and his breathy sigh didn't go unnoticed by you. You wanted more, to draw out more of those pitchy moans, to make him feel just as good as he always made you, so you pressed forward to take more of him into your mouth. He brushed against your soft palate similar to how he always pressed against your cervix, and the unfamiliar feeling made you gag.
"Easy sweetheart," he warned as he gently pushed you back. "Go slower... yes, fuck just like that..."
Eventually you found your rhythm. Whatever you couldn't take in your mouth you used your hands to make up for as you bobbed your head along his length. Simon's breathing became strained like he had to hold himself back from fucking up into your mouth like a madman, but you noticed that every time your swirled your tongue around the piercings on his glands, it forced his hips to buck ever so slightly.
A tingling sensation settled over your lips the longer you worked at him and your jaw began to ache from the awkward position but you pushed forward. You felt his hand rest gently on the back of your head, carefully guiding you along him as he aided you in setting a pace that felt good but wasn't too much for you. His quieted moans eventually transformed into unrestrained grunts as you brought him closer to the edge. The warmth of your mouth and soft lips around him was enough to drive him to insanity, and just as his stomach tensed, just as he was about to spill into your mouth, he gently pulled you off of him.
Panting, you sat back on your haunches as you gave Simon a glazed yet confused look. A long stream of spit dribbled down your chin and you quickly wiped it away on the back of your hand as you tried to catch your breath in order to ask him what was wrong. His cock glistened with your saliva and it seemed to twitch in frustration at the sudden absence of pleasure.
"C'mere," he said, his voice dark and husky. His hands were already on your waist where he excitedly pulled you closer to him, forcing you to straddle his hips.
"But I wasn't done," you attempted to retort.
Simon chuckled at you as he once more lined his cock up against your heat, drawing a sharp gasp out of you. In an attempt to keep yourself steady, your hands came up to rest on his shoulders as he ever so slowly lowered you onto him, sliding into you with ease due to how well you slicked him up.
"You can suck me off properly another time, sweetheart," he said with a tight jaw. He hissed as your cunt began to swallow him, tight muscles pulling him into you like he never belonged anywhere else. "Did you really think you could make me feel that good and get nothin' in return?"
Your head fell forward and into his shoulder with a soft gasp as he bottomed out, filling you with ease and to the brim. As he began to gently move you up and down, his hips bucked up to meet you halfway where he kissed your cervix with each thrust.
"Fuck... no, no. I reward my girl for bein' good, yeah?"
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The pub scene is even funnier when you consider that poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has likely had this longtime pash on Aziraphale and, like everyone on Whickber Street, he has no idea who exactly The Ginger Goth With The Old Car is. He knows the prevailing theory is mafia but Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has seen Ginger Goth hanging around Mrs. Sandwich and her "Sandwich Shop" and also around the bookshop a bit and also some naked guy was also at the bookshop recently, so... what's the likeliest conclusion drawn by Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets? That the old bookseller's lonely and paying for it.
He sees them come into the pub and thinks Aziraphale is classy like that and is taking the sex worker for a drink first or maybe that's part of it-- he's gone the whole 'boyfriend experience' route. Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets sees Aziraphale with that chest stroke of that Thin Dark Duke he's paying and while Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets, just FYI) isn't here to judge and gets it as he's lonely, too... and while he does think the bookseller picks some hot ones... he wants to give Mr. Fell the real thing. The kind of love you can only get between two middle-aged, still-sorta-closeted queers like they are. He'll be someone the bookseller can talk to and find some genuine chemistry with, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets will be, so he decides to shoot his shot and knows the bookseller is skittish from their past interactions, so he goes for the meeting option. He'll have to come over to drop off the chairs, of course. Give them an excuse to talk more, alone, when Mr. Fell is not, erm, entertaining.
And poor Mr. Brown--President of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is-- fine, upstanding, boring as all holy fuck fella... He's met by Crowley coming over with drinks and a greeting that says this is neither the first time, nor, he doubts, will it be the last that he's had to Husband the bookseller but again, Mr. Brown of Oh, You Know By Now thinks this is a bit, so he's not intimidated.
"I was just absolutely hitting on him for real, unlike you," is what he basically told Crowley when explaining what they were chatting about.
And Crowley's like lol you got him flustered enough to host this meeting. Good on you, Mr. Whoever the Fuck You Are from Whatever Shop You Run. Look at you *go*. 😍 I've got a new favorite human, Aziraphale.
He's all "you astonish me" to Aziraphale, teasing him like you're leading the poor, balding bastard on, angel. I know it's hard for you to reign in your divine sex appeal but you should maybe try. His heart is only human, after all.
Mr. Brown still thinks Crowley's a sex worker though so he doesn't give up and is all like remember, Mr. Fell, our date is right after work on Thursday in a group setting to set you at ease but I'll see you first to set it all up because I want you and I want to make sure you know I'm not just here for the business meeting.
Crowley: That's it-- I'm adopting you, Ballsy Mr. Carpet. I like your style. But you'll never wear my angel down. We've been married for 6,000 years. I am definitely up for saving you from some demons on Thursday though and making it rain on you and literally any fruity, single shop owner in the greater metro area next season. You're on the deck after my shop lesbians. Now piss off, Mr. Barnes. We haven't been to the pub in ages and you're in my seat.
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Danny wasn't sure what to do. Was this legal? He knew the bats were part of the Justice League and whatnot but surely they can't just pick him up off the street after he got into a brawl with some creeps trying to mug him!
Sure, Nightwing had jumped down to help and Danny, still in his living form with its crappy human vision, thought he was another mugger because of the dark and attacked him too.
Now he's sitting in the back seat of the batmobile with his hands in wierd bat handcuffs.
Was everything these guys owned bat themed? Yeah his parents put there last name in all the titles of their inventions but they had a brand to sell so it was excusable. Batman however, is clearly living out his bat shaped dreams. Usually Danny was all for the furrys doing thier thing, one of his best friends was a proud furry and Danny 100% supported him, but there was a line you don't cross and tall dark and fuzzy crossed it when he kidnaped one 14 year old Danny Fenton.
He couldn't Go Ghost right in front of Batman and Nightwing but he could use the one thing his mom made him take with him everywhere since he was a little boy.
His panic button.
It was powered by ectoplasm and could get through signal jammer with no problem. If he pressed the button his parents would drop everything to come save him. They made sure to put little sirens and flashing lights in thier own hazmat suits to make sure they didn't accidentally miss it. Sure they looked hilarious the few times he had seen it go off in his life but it was highly effective.
So he pushed the button and his parents were charging torward them in record time, the GAV playing chicken with the freaking batmobile. Suddenly his mothers voice came from the panic button, "Are you in the front of back, sweetie?"
"I, uh." He stuttered, looking up at the shocked face of Nightwing before answering, "The back."
"Perfect." He mother said darkly.
A trio of high mechanical whines filled the air and Danny didn't need to look through the windshield to know the buzz saws were out.
----
Bruce just wanted to know why Danny Fenton, youngest of the Fenton Family and son of Jack Fenton and Madeline Walker, two people whose marriage brokered peace between thier prospective mafia syndicate families, was doing in Gotham beating up low level thugs.
He was not expecting overprotective mad scientist parents.
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