“dude” But Like Romantically

Wait I have no idea how to work tumblr so I might not have asked to be tagged on my account but my user is bokkubeam :)

Lol, it’s ok, we’ve all done this before

I know I have🥲

Sooooooo... I’m guessing this was you then?

I’m glad you like it!! You’ll def be on the taglist☺️

"Red String if nothingness" has me in a bittersweet mood. Kenma is in love with someone else but you never know what the future holds? And maybe in the future the two of them would eventually find each other again, because at the end of that red string you'll always find each other and knowing my dumb ass (speaking from irl experience) even though it hurts if I love that person I'd wait for them even if it takes a long time. It's fine with me as long as he's happy (I'm dumb) even if it hurts me

🤯Spittin facts my dude😤 I’m glad ur seeing the bright side of it, cuz I just hate those angsty soulmate aus where they just dont end up together😔 at the end of the stories I’m always like “tf is this 💩??”

As long as I get food, games, sleep and whatever I want I'm cool... Y'all can leave me be cause I hate going out anyways 😂

I mean same🤷‍♀️

Can we just discuss how hot it is when yandere boys get jealous and go nuts tho😳

Like,,, dude🥵

I want this job

You Told Me So (Sugawara x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: He was right. You should've brought a jacket before trekking outside on a rainy day. You just wish he would say he was right. 

A/N: Should I start watching Avatar: The Last Airbender? Anyways, here’s a lil imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Hope y’all like it!

Word count: 1684

        You made a mistake. 

        “YN, wear a jacket before you go out!”

        “I’ll be fine, babe.”

        You were wrong. Rain seeped through your clothes quicker than you thought possible. All it was supposed to be was a quick run to the store. The day was sunny and the sidewalk could blister bare feet when you had left. Sugawara had repeatedly warned you about the day’s weather report, but you were certain you could beat it out. If only you had listened.

        The short-sleeve t-shirt you wore was absolutely soaked, along with your flimsy black leggings. The tag on your tennis shoes had claimed they were waterproof when you had first bought them; apparently that was wrong. Puddles splashed and your socks squelched with every step you took, and all you could do was feel sorry for yourself. Every few seconds you twitched with an involuntary shiver as you made your way home. 

        Thunder rumbled overhead as the day came to a close. It was around seven at night, and although your boyfriend was sweet, no one could resist the smugness of your situation. He was right. With chattering teeth, you stumbled up the steps to his house, halting only to take a deep breath at his door. 

        Yeah, that’s right, you were nervous. No shame in that…. Never mind, all shame in that. You were never one to back down, even when you knew you were in the wrong, and right now, you were really in the wrong. Fist raised over the door, you couldn’t help but just stand there, biting your trembling bottom lip and sniffling occasionally. This is gonna be so embarrassing. 

        Knock knock.

        Movements inside the house are audible from your placement in front of the door, and you suck in a breath when the lock clicks. As soon as the man on the other side spots you, the entryway whips open in the blink of an eye. 

        “YN,” Sugawara breathes out, but you hold up a hand to stop him from continuing. 

        “I know what you’re gonna say,” you exclaim before avoiding his intense gaze, “but- oof.”

        Air puffs out of your lips in a visible cloud as he tackles you in a bear hug. The drastic change in temperature compels you to sigh, and you tuck your red-tipped nose into his collarbone. 

        “God, you’re freezing, YN!” With one final squeeze, Sugawara pulls away and tugs you inside, sealing away the glacial climate with a slam of the door. He drops his hands on your trembling shoulders and ushers you to his living room, plopping you down on his couch before exiting without another word. 

        You, on the other hand, were frozen in surprise. All you could do was sit blindsided on the suede cushions, arms laying limply by your sides as your shoes oozed rainwater on the redwood floors. The TV across from you lit up your face with your favorite series, all ready to be watched. It was, after all, date night. 

        Footfalls patter back into the room before Sugawara stands before you, holding out a pile of clothes. “Here,” he helps you up off the couch and leads you down a dim hallway, “you need to change before you catch a cold. I just hope you don’t already have one.” You arrive at your destination, his bedroom, where he passes you the dry clothing with furrowed brows. “I’ll be in the kitchen, so just holler if you need something.”

        And with that, he leaves you to change in the comfort of your own privacy. Throughout all of this, the only thing you could do was watch with wide eyes at his actions. 

        You knew your boyfriend, but you also knew basic human instinct. Why is he not rubbing this in my face? You were baffled at his self-control, at his ability to resist the urge to stick it to you. 

        Like seriously, come on! What kind of person doesn’t say “I told you so” after something like this?

        “God, he’s too perfect.” You shake your head and pick through the outfit he gave you. A large, baggy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Both types of clothing that you often steal from him on a weekly basis. Your heart stutters at the selection, and you laugh softly at his observational skills. “Who the hell am I dating?”

        Damp hair, pruned fingers, and trembling muscles. You were quite the sight to behold, and you actively avoided the mirror on your wall. Slipping on the new, soft clothes, you let out a relieved breath at the shift in sensations. You reveled in the oversized fabrics with ease, flapping the too-long sleeves and cinching the sweatpants’ strings until they no longer sagged below your hips. 

        Still wary of his surprising affection, you hesitantly creep out into the hallway, leaving your damp clothes behind in his laundry basket. You would grab them before you left. On your way to the living room, you pass the kitchen and find Sugawara still inside, rinsing out a pot in the sink. Two mugs rest on the marble counter, steaming and teeming with white marshmallows. The scent of rich chocolate hangs in the air, and you don’t hesitate to join him in the room. 

        Winding your goosebump-covered arms around his slim waist, you embrace him from behind and hum gently. “I hope some of that’s for me.”

        “Of course, baby,” he chuckles, grabbing the hot chocolates before trailing you over to the living room. It’s darker than before, and your show still waits on the large screen, paused just at a recap of the previous episode. Sugawara lays them down on the coffee table before turning in your arms, returning the hug and rubbing your back comfortingly. 

        “You still feel cold,” he places a hand on your forehead and tsks. “Let me go get some blankets. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He forces you down on the couch once again and steps away to search in his hall closet. 

        Every action he does leaves your heart thumping, even though you’ve been dating for a little over a year. He was still so sweet, and you still struggle to comprehend how you managed to catch a guy like him. 

        “Whatcha smiling about?” Sugawara smirks at you, dropping a pile of blankets on your lap the size of Mount Everest. 

        “You,” you reply honestly, almost purring when he wraps the thick comforters around your shoulders tightly. After every single one is draped around you, your boyfriend only grins in response, dropping down onto the couch beside you and winding an arm around your waist. 

        He hands you your scalding mug before grabbing his own, and you allow your frost-bitten fingers to pat the burning porcelain carefully. While taking ginger, intermittent sips, you both bask in each other's presence and enjoy the television entertainment. 

        An hour passes, and you both have moved to lie back against the couch. Your light-haired boyfriend rests underneath you while you sprawl out on his chest, greedily accepting any warmth he has to offer. One hand rests on your hip while the other brushes through your hair tenderly, and both of your own lose feeling underneath his form, but you don’t have the energy to move them. 

        The only sounds in the room are your level inhales and exhales and the show quietly droning on in the background as you embrace each other. Your eyes are barely staying open, but in a split second, a tickle hits you. 

        “Achoo!” 

        Aw crap.

        Sugawara cracks up lightly underneath you and squeezes your hip. “Bless you.”

         The kind gesture brings up all your past grievances of the day. He was just… so nice! Why?! That’s all he had to say? Nothing like “I knew you were gonna get sick.”

        His politeness made you huff and roll your eyes. Plopping your chin on his chest, you flick his forehead to get him to face you. His head turns to you, and his warm, chocolate-colored eyes are filled with an indescribable warmth that just makes you ughhhh.

        “Why?” you pipe up suddenly, dropping your hand to draw random patterns on his cheek. His face tinges pink at the feeling, but his brows furrow at your question. 

        “Why what?” You sigh. 

        “Why are you being so nice about this?” You poke his skin frustratedly, but not enough to hurt him. You could never. Not with those puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t listen to you, or your warnings, and now I might be sick. And all you’ve done is make me hot chocolate and cuddle me!” 

        Sugawara exhales a chuckle at your question and shakes his head amusedly. “Well, what did you think I was gonna do?”

        “I thought you were gonna say ‘I told you so’ and then do all this stuff.”

        “I’m not evil, YN.”

        “I know,” you facepalm, “but the fact that you haven’t said it is kinda creeping me out. It’s like one of those things that humans always do.” Your boyfriend nibbles at his lower lip thoughtfully. 

        “So, you really want me to say it?”

        “Yes please, I would feel much better if you did.” He snorts at this, stroking your silky strands slower now. 

        “All right,” he murmurs, nodding his head, “here it goes: I told you so.” 

        Accepting his words, you mumble a small thank you and allow the room to return to fall into silence. All is well, and the atmosphere grows peaceful once more as your cuddling resumes. Sugawara’s eyes close happily and he smiles into your hair, enjoying the fruity scent it emanates. You snuggle deeper into his solid chest, savoring the warmth he exudes and nuzzling your cheek against him lovingly before scoffing.

       “God, I knew you were gonna say that.”

Hi ! can you make general headcanons on amai mask yandere please ? (Onepunchman)

hahahahahaha wow i gotta be honest that is not a character I have ever cared for bc of garou's HOTNESS but also remembering his background story and how every girl wants him bc he's like a hot hero or whatver the idea of him being a yandere for yn sounds fucking amazing???

no full hcs but i can give u what's swirling around in my brain for a moment. I'm sure u don't mind, considering this req has gathered more dust than a let's get it on cassette tape, and u probably don't even follow me anymore. yay

this could totally be one of the "starstruck movie" tropes where your friend is in love with amai mask but u dont rly get it so ur not a fan

and he loves this bc u know fanfic bs means that he wants u and only u (explain this in whatever way u so desire) let's just say u were built different for now

so amai mask is like head over heels and ur just like, hehehe he's like rly hot but also eh i could go without

but he can't go without

cue him paying villains and low level criminals to try and like rob u or smth so that he can save you and look rly hot while doing it--ya know, kinda like how birds do mating dances in the wild, this mf will try to have u killed and then gloriously kill your attacker while flipping his lustrous locks.

one day the villain actually goes to far and freaks u tf out so that you're shaking and amai mask just gets uncomfortable bc oh shit he paid for that to happen. he kills the guy (bc this is yandere welcome to yandere bullshit 101) and then he runs over and cradles u in his arms and whispers feather-soft in your ears that he won't let you get hurt again and to "let go, let me take care of you. You're safe with me"

and he guides u back to his apartment and buh-bam u in love he's in love yayy they lived happily ever after.

totally the type of guy to wake u up or bother the shit out of you whenever he wants hugs n kisses btw

bc ur built different

Could you write something nsfw maybe breeding for Sokka?

Baby Fever (Sokka x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You were great with kids, and it just so happens that your husband Sokka wants to give you a few of his own. 

A/N: Aight y’all, someone finally gave me permission and I went off. Seriously, hope you enjoy this cuz 👉👈 it’s a lil dirty🥺. Lemme just say goodbye to a few followers cuz I know they ain’t stickin’ around after this😑. Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: Pure smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected vaginal sex, (slight??) cum play

Word count: 3228

        Giggles erupted from the corner of the ice building Sokka stood near. Whooshes and crashes of water split through the air while he waited for you to finish your daily waterbending lessons with the youth of the Water Tribe. 

        “Now, boys and girls, let’s work on streaming the water,” he couldn’t help but move into view around the cold wall, leaning against it and watching you with a small smile. “First, find your source. It can be the ice, the water under the ice, or the water in the fountain.” 

        You waited with all the patience in the world as the seven ten-year-olds around you dashed towards their chosen sources, often pushing past each other to get there. It was only when an older boy pushed down a smaller, younger female waterbender that you interfered with their competitiveness. 

        “Kole,” you gasped, kneeling down on the ice to help the girl to her feet, “apologize this instant!” 

        The little boy, black hair in disarray and a sneer on his lips, only stuck out his tongue before grumbling, “She was in my way first.”

        By now, the girl was crying as you hugged her to your side, running your hand through her hair comfortingly. “Shh, it’s okay,” you hummed before glancing back up to the Kole with a fire in your eyes. “Kole?” 

        Sokka knew that tone and raised brow of yours from personal experience; it meant stop what you’re doing before I kick your ass to Timbuktu. 

        The submission was instant; in seconds, the little boy was scuffing the feet in front of the girl, mumbling an apology while avoiding eye contact. 

        “Kole?” you repeated, this time more insistently. He understood right away and offered his arms in a hug, as per tradition in your class of waterbending. It was a dangerous art where people often got hurt simply during training, and you had learned early on that a hug along with an apology was key to showing that their desire for forgiveness was sincere. 

        As per usual, the little girl accepted, they split away without another word, and you were able to continue on your lessons. 

        In all honesty, Sokka admired the way you handled the children. Back when he used to travel the world with the Gaang, it wasn’t completely uncommon to see rather abusive benders trying to pass on their wisdom to the younger generation. They would ignore when students became hostile and aggressive toward one another, but you, meanwhile, allowed none of that. 

        You were always patient with the kids, and only raised your voice purely for audible purposes. Not once had Sokka seen a child actually glare at you and mean it. 

        “Hey,” you smiled, shaking Sokka out of his thoughts. You joined him against the icy wall and leaned back, staring at your students alongside your husband. 

        “Hey,” he grinned back, looping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I saw that little altercation earlier. Why didn’t you just let ‘em duke it out?”

        You snorted and batted him on the arm, ignoring his surprised squawk. “If I let them ‘duke it out,’ then I have to deal with scraped knees and bloody noses. Trust me, I don’t wanna hear those cries and you don’t wanna hear me complain about those cries.” 

       Both of your gazes are drawn back to the class, and just beyond you catch a glimpse of the sky. 

        “Ooh, hold on, let me dismiss them and we can go home.” You pat Sokka’s arm before jogging back to the students. 

        “All right guys, let’s talk about homework!”

                                ===

        The walk home is silent as the moon just barely settles into the sky. Stars twinkle alongside it amongst the black beyond and you curl into your husband’s side more, enjoying the view. 

        Meanwhile, Sokka’s gaze is locked on your face. He just couldn’t shake off the thought of you with those kids. 

        Of course, it never bothered him before, and it didn’t really “bother” him now. If anything, he just kept letting the same thought run through his head over and over again. 

        She would be so wonderful with our children. 

        The thought of you surrounded by little YNs and Sokkas was enough to have his grip around your shoulder tighten. 

        “What’s wrong?” you ask, pulling away just as the view of your home crested in the distance. You took one look at his face and knew he was thinking more than he could handle. 

        “I just…” he purses his lips and grabs your hand, leading you closer to your guys’s hut. “Hold on. Let’s talk about this in private.”

        In an instant, you were tense, watching with slight fear as Sokka fumbled to open the door. Is he breaking up with me? Why? I thought we were happy together…. 

        You sit when he gestures you to, tentatively leaning back onto the living room sofa while Sokka sits on the coffee table across from you. The air in your part of the room is bitter, but his half seems to be sizzling with excitement and uncertainty. 

        “YN,” Sokka finally pipes up, snatching the hands from your laps and intertwining them with his, “what do you think about… um…”

        Playing the waiting game was so much worse than taking the news straight. All bush, no beating. “Well?”

        Your voice is surprisingly impatient but level, but it only serves to worsen the situation as your lover begins to fiddle with your fingers. Oh, come onnnn.

        “Spit it out, Sokka!” That pushes him to act, and in seconds, he’s got your hands turning purple with his nervous grip. 

        “Y-YN, have you ever thought about having kids? W-With me, I mean.” 

        The words, or rather the insinuation of them has you biting your tongue, holding back a surprised hum. You know the noise would only serve to have Sokka sprint out the door, scared to ever look you in the eyes again, so you refrain from even changing your facial expression. He was always so terrible at reading them. 

        “Honestly Sokka? No.” He visibly deflates, but you continue before he can scram. “But I must admit I’m not against the idea. Of course, they’ll probably be little troublemakers, but I think we could handle their— well, I could handle their rowdiness, I’m not so sure you have the- what? What’s wrong?”

        There’s this look in his eyes. It’s not angry, or nervous. It’s not even happy or hopeful. 

        No, it’s… hungrier than that. There’s a hint of desperation tinging his brown orbs that has the pit of your stomach tightening with heat. 

        “Can we try now, then?”

                                ===

        Clothing is strewn everywhere, Sokka having been in such a state of pure eagerness that he hadn’t even moved you to the bedroom. Your back is flush against the carpeted floor, the pattern imprinting itself in your skin as you grip the underside of the couch. 

        His teeth and lips are everywhere, biting and sucking where he can to mark you as his. Your other hand grips the leg of the coffee table, it’s solidity making you feel somewhat grounded as Sokka draws whatever sounds he can out of you with just his touch. 

        “Gonna fill you so much, baby,” Sokka grunts against your throat, thrusting into your thigh at the whine you give off. “You’ll be so beautiful, so full of my children.” 

        “Yes- nghh,” you choke out, hips involuntarily pushing up at his touch. His fingers— oh Goddd— drag your panties down and away from your legs, but they don’t go far. Sokka drops them onto the coffee table you hold onto for dear life before he returns his attention to you, dragging a single, long finger up and down your slit. 

        “Look at this pussy,” he smirks, pressing his other hand on your hip to keep you from squirming. “Dripping wet just for me. You want my cum, don’t you baby?” His grip is bruising and through your fluttering lashes, you can see his muscles straining to keep you in place. The indent and outline of every muscle he’s grown into over the years has your core clenching, tightening around nothing. 

        “Mmhmm- OH!” The sudden press of his fingertip against your swollen bud has you shaking, trying desperately to get away from the delicious, almost painful touch. “Ah fuck!” 

        Sokka eats those naughty sounds from your throat right up, smirking against the skin of your neck before he trails down, down, down to your chest, latching right onto a nipple without warning. 

        “Mmmfuckkk.” At this point, you’re fairly certain the things leaving your mouth aren’t even words. Your brain can barely form a coherent thought thanks to the harsh circles Sokka rubs into your bud, abusing and abusing the bundle of nerves without a care in the world. 

        Screaming at the pain-fueled pleasure, you dig your heels into Sokka’s back, pressing him closer even though you know your body can barely handle the sensations. 

        With a dirty pop, Sokka pulled away from your rosy nipple, pressing a kiss to the tip before transferring to the other. This one must have been his favorite, because you don’t even get a warning before his teeth are nipping, teasing the tender skin while he hums in delight. 

        “Oh FUCK, please Sokka!” you hiss out, hands leaving the couch support and the table leg only to dig into his hair. Somewhere along the way, his hair tie must have broken because you dig your hands freely into the dark strands that hang by his ears, tugging and pulling in a desperate attempt to tether yourself to reality. “Please.”

        “Please what, baby?” he teases, pulling away and leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses up your body to your lips. “What do you want? Use your words, babe.” His smirk brushes your mouth with every word before he captures your bottom lip between his. By now, the finger kneading into your clit has turned into a thumb, and you gasp at the feeling of his middle and ring finger filling you up. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

        “Please fuck me, Sokka. Fill me with you cum,” you plead, hips bucking against the rapid movement between your thighs. The pace he’s set with his hand is nothing compared to what he has in mind, flashing you a shit-eating grin.

        “Of course, babe, your wish is my command.” Too soon, his fingers have left your aching core abandoned, the only thing staying behind is the thumb on your bundle of nerves, slowing its pace to draw out your pleasure. 

        The hand previously on your hip lands right next to your head, fingers flexing against the carpet as he directs his length to your womanhood. After Sokka leans back to watch his actions, you turn your head and press a kiss to his bare wrist. You don’t see it, but he smiles at the contact. 

        And then you feel it. The stretch. Sokka’s burying himself inside you, deep, deep, deep all the way to the hilt. The burn of it is only lessened by the slow patterns on your bundle of nerves, leaving you gasping. All the air in your lungs escapes in a hot second as you whine, mouth open to form an “oh” as your lover’s length opens you so deliciously.

        The dull ache loses out completely to the pleasure when he begins thrusting, driving, pounding into you at a speed that has your head lolling. 

        “Yeah, that’s right,” he grits out, “take it baby. Fuck, you take me so well.” Each word is accentuated with a harsh plunge of himself deeper into your tight heat. The high-pitched moans you let out only urge him on, feeding into the ego that fuels his dirty mouth. “Take it all. You’re gonna look so pretty with my kids inside you.”

        He sets a pace that you’re almost positive is going to leave your back with a rug burn in the morning. Every time that coil deep in your stomach tightens, every time you clench around him as he delves back into your throbbing core, the force of it all pushes you away. He can only keep you in place by returning your thighs back around his waist; they had fallen away when he first thrusted inside you, your body almost going limp at the quick wave of pleasure. 

        “This little pussy takes me so well. Can’t wait to fill it with my load,” he grunts out, hissing at the burn of your wandering fingers against his scalp. Using your grip, you tug him back down, pressing his forehead against yours and arching your back at a particularly deep stroke against your walls. The hand busying itself against your burning clit falls away to slide under you at the opportunity, pressing your heaving chest against his just to feel more of you, all of you against him. 

        “Ahhhh shit, harder Sokka!” Breathy moans fall from your lips faster than you can take them in, and you don’t notice your hands in his hair have transferred to digging into his back until he groans at the contact. As usual, he obeys your every need, ramming into you harder than you thought possible. 

        Every time he bottoms out effortlessly inside you, you’re jolted back and forth. The heat slowly building inside you is at its edge, ready to burst with just a little more. “Yes, Sokka, more! More! Fuck, you feel so good!”

        The praise spurs him on as the loud slapping of his skin against your own fills the hut, growing into an unsettled pattern as he quickens, pushing into your tight walls as fast as they can take him. “Fuck yeah, YN. Let me pump this tight little hole full of my cum. Let me see you holding my kids like you should be.”

        At his words, you feel yourself fall over the edge, throbbing and clenching around his length without warning. The scream of his name at your release helps him let go too. Plunging himself as far as he can go, Sokka stops inside your quivering core only at his limit, letting himself fill you up as much as you can take. 

        It’s warm, so warm as he releases, face dripping sweat as it scrunches up in concentration,  and it’s only when he pulls out that you realize how much he has given you. You mewl at the feeling of it dribbling, allowing your legs to drop to the floor like your hands at the sides of your head. “Oh fuck,” you sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as Sokka leans away, shifting backwards on the carpet to watch your still-pulsing hole as it leaks. 

        You don’t acknowledge what your lover’s doing until it’s too late and you moan at the too-soon intrusion. “Sokka-”

        “Shh, relax baby,” he soothes, collecting the combined remnants of yours and his release with two fingers, pushing it back in far enough that he’s sure it’ll stay. “You’ll look so pretty with our child in your stomach. Just hold it in, baby. Keep it inside.” 

        When his hand accidentally brushes your overstimulated bundle of nerves is when you try to squirm away, only to be stopped by his hands on your ankles tugging your bottom flush against his knees. “Sokka…” you trail off in surprise when he actually pulls your lower body up on the lowest part of his thighs.

        You never knew he was so serious about having children. Of course, you wanted it too, but seeing the childlike excitement in his eyes as he allows gravity to do its work clues you in that you had underestimated him a bit. 

        “Hold it in, baby,” he repeats quietly, snagging your panties off the coffee table and sliding them back up your legs. In an instant, they’re damp with both of your releases, but he still presses the fabric against your slit like it would somehow seal the combination inside you. 

        Your heart warms when he gently lowers your bottom half to the ground, grabbing your wrists and pulling you flush against him in a hug. Your back, just as you had assumed, is rubbed raw and sore from the carpet below, but suddenly the twinges of pain are more bearable when Sokka massages the skin with gentle hands. 

        Your arms wind around his neck, leading to your fingers delving into his knotted hair as he grins into your shoulder, pressing slow kisses against the skin. 

        “God, I really, really hope that worked,” he mumbles excitedly, hands dropping down to wrap your legs around his midsection. 

        “Me too,” you giggle, holding on for dear life when he stands and carries you to the bedroom. Kicking the door shut, he totes you all the way to the mattress. The cold fur of the bear pelt serving as your blanket is a stark contrast to the hot carpet of your living room. It soothes your back as Sokka reassumes a position over you, hair hanging in his face as he settles on his knees between your thighs. 

        “So how soon can we find out?” he asks, pushing your body up far enough that he can lay completely flat on top of you and not leave any limbs hanging off the bed.

        “Mmm, I’m not sure. I think Katara said she found out after about two months.”

        “Damn.” Sokka curses as he nuzzles into your skin, sighing at the sensation of you untangling his dark strands with tender fingers. “That long?”

        “Maybe more, maybe less. Pretty sure every pregnancy is different.” Your slow combing through his knots stops when he lifts his head, flashing you a bright grin. “What?” you giggle in confusion. 

        “Pregnancy, babe. You could literally be pregnant with our child right now.” Between your thighs, he’s practically vibrating with excitement, hand slipping out from under you to brush against your stomach. 

        “Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing his hand away and rolling your eyes. “I know for sure it doesn’t happen that fast.” 

        “Oh really?” he raises a brow.

        “Yep.”

        “You’re sure?”

        “One-hundred percent.”

        “Well then,” Sokka taps his chin in thought, “why don’t we do something while we wait?”

        “Like what?”

        “Oh, I don’t know,” his darkening gaze darts down to your bare chest, only covered in a single love bite right in the valley of your breasts. It dashes back up just as quickly, but the damage is done; pupils enlarged, you can already feel him getting excited all over again. “Maybe we should… try again. Just in case it didn’t work the first time.”

        You’re still sore from the first round, but a couple wandering fingers already gliding down to your thighs once more leaves your first answer in the dust.

        “Sure, why not,” you shrug.

        “HELL YEAH!” Sokka thanks you with a swift kiss on your nose. “Now let’s make some babies!”

Did you have a quotev under this same username at some point?

Hmm I don’t think so, but then again I made like a bajillion accounts when I was younger. Who really knows🤷‍♀️

Fake Marks, True Love (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: The hickey was fake, but the pain Oikawa felt when he saw it? It was real, and it hurt like a bitch. “Who touched you?”

A/N: Angst! Angst! Angst (and fluff)! Also, another prank fanfic? Wow! Who’d have thought? Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this fake hickey prank with Aoba Johsai’s cocky setter!

Word count: 1341

        The dark splotch on your neck was perfect. It was slightly below your ear and couldn’t be easily covered by hair or clothing. I could be a makeup artist. You dipped the brush into the powder and dusted it over the mark as a final touch, making it seem more natural and subtle. 

       “And now we wait,” you mutter, packing up the eyeshadows and foundations around you before settling down in the living room. You bundle up in a thick sweatshirt and yoga pants, hopping onto the couch and preparing for Oikawa to come over after finishing practice. 

       About an hour later, the TV is loud and lit up the room with your show, but you could still hear your boyfriend’s knock on the door along with the call of your name. You had almost drifted off to sleep, so you yawn while rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. 

       “YN!” He rang the doorbell obnoxiously until you whipped open the door with a fierce glare.

       “Was that really necessary?” you hiss, the jingles still ringing in your ears. 

       “Of course,” he scoffed, “I wanted to see you. Be flattered.” He smirks at you before stepping inside, glancing around your house while kicking off his shoes. 

       “The Office? Really?” He raised a brow at your entertainment choice. “You’ve watched that like a million times.”

       “And I’ll watch it a million more, so get used to it.” You stick out your tongue and trudge back over to the couch, Oikawa snagging your waist in the process and following closely behind you. His hands were cold from outside and rough from his practice. 

       “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” He sighs dramatically and flops onto the sofa beside you, plopping his sweaty head on your lap. 

       “Ew, ew, ewww!” You pat his forehead in an effort to urge him to move but he only swats your hand away. 

       “Shush,” he relaxes both arms behind his head, not-so subtly caressing your thighs in the process. “It’s not that bad.” You know he’s right. Sweaty or not, his hair is always soft and calming to run your hands through, so you do it. 

       “See?” His brown eyes glow from down on your lap and you roll your own at him.

       “Fine, you win-”

       “God, I love hearing those words.”

       “Now shut up and let me watch Jim prank Dwight.”

       “Fine, I will. Now you shush and let me,” he pauses for a second, looking up at your face confusedly, “... stare… at… you,” he trails off. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are filled with pain. What’s wrong with him? You glance down curiously before returning your gaze to the screen.

       A hand of his peels out from under his head and reaches up to brush over your face then down under your ear. Smiling faintly, you lean into his touch. He was gentle with his movements and you close your eyes to focus on the feeling. “YN.” 

       You hum in response. 

       “Who touched you?” His voice is tense and restrained. Your eyes fly open and narrow in confusion.

       “What?”

       “Who did this?” He sits up and turns to face you, keeping his fingers against the side of your neck. “Who stole you from me?”

       “What are you-” Oh shit.

       Your hand flies up to feel for the fake hickey, but Oikawa’s is already there. 

       “Yeah, that’s right,” he sneers while his voice trembles, “I saw it.” You’re conflicted between ending it right now by telling him and staying silent to see where it goes. Wait, why did I do this again?

       “How could you?” His Adam’s apple bobs while he pushes your hair back once more to view the artificial mark, only to scoff in disbelief and shake his head. You breathe out waveringly and fidget with your fingers. Should I stop now? God, why am I doing this?

       “It’s not what you think.” You avoid his gaze and mutter more excuses, “I just fell.” He gives you a pained smile and his eyes start to water. 

       “On your neck?” he whispers breathlessly. You nod and he shakes his head once more, loosening a tear from his eye. 

       “YN, please. Tell me the truth.”

       “I am!” you plead.

       “You’re lying!” he exclaims suddenly, pushing off the couch to pace back and forth in front of you anxiously. His hands tug on his hair harshly while he bites his lip. 

       “How long?”

       “Baby, it’s not-”

       “Who was it?”

       “Tooru-”

       “Was he better than me?” he whispers, eyes filled with hurt while he watches you.

       “Tooru, no, it’s a prank!” you shout, standing up and approaching him, only to be stopped by his outstretched hands. 

       “YN, I can’t.” He shakes his head and your heart stops. 

       “Can’t what?” you ask softly, eyes welling up with tears.

       “I can’t stay here.” Oikawa stumbles back, searching the floor frantically for his shoes. “I-,” he chokes back a sob, “I can’t be with you anymore.” 

       “Tooru wait!” You sprint over and slide into the door, slamming it shut just as he opens it. Tears fall down his face silently as you let out trembling breaths. Without a word, you grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom.

       “YN don’t-”

       “Shut up.” Your voice cracks pitifully as you drag him in and switch on the light. You hold him in place with a tight grip and silently turn on the faucet. 

       “YN…” he trails off in awe, watching as you rub away the fake love mark until it is only an awkward rash of purple under your ear. Slowly, you turn your head up to face him in the mirror, dropping his hand and leaning against the counter while you wait. 

       “It was just a prank,” you mumble, pursing your lips and losing yourself in his brown eyes. At last, he seems to hear you. And believe you. His nose flairs and he frantically wipes at his cheeks, hoping to erase the wave of sadness from earlier. Then he lets out a forced chuckle.

       “Thank God,” he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if-” Oikawa breaks off with a whimper and pulls you into an embrace, weeping gently into your shoulder. In an instant, you return the hug, but you widen your eyes in an attempt to keep your own cries at bay. The resistance doesn’t last long, and you tuck your head into his neck, squeezing the back of his shirt tightly while you let out your own body-wracking sobs.

       “Don’t ever do that again,” he begs, sighing when you press a kiss to his neck.

       “Never,” you promise, nodding in agreement. Hesitantly, he leans back to look at your face and uses a thumb to wipe away a stray tear. For a moment longer, his fingers stroke your cheek before trailing down to your chin, swiftly pulling you forward for a kiss. Your lips clash together and you both let out a moan at the feeling. His bottom lip is puffy from when he had bitten on it devastatedly earlier, but you don’t hesitate to perform the same job in the heat of the moment.

       Oikawa groans before separating to allow you to breathe. The break doesn’t last long, and you sigh wantonly when he begins to attack the skin of your throat.

       “My marks are the only ones that should ever touch your neck,” he gives you a heated glance while you gaze back dazedly and nod in agreement. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he mumbles, lips brushing hotly against you with every syllable. After a harsh bite, you mewl and dig your hands into his hair, yanking on the brunet’s tufts encouragingly. 

       “Please do.”

Who Dunnit (Kylo Ren x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Someone left their panties in the control room after what must have been a night of fun and Hux is determined to find out who.

A/N: Small lil thing that I’ve had rolling around in the ol’ hat rack for a while. Hope you like it!

Word count: 643

        “What the hell is this?” Hux’s voice when he was angry was all-too familiar, but today there was an added element of pure abhorrence. 

        Curious, you glanced up from your holopad to whatever the general had screeched about only to widen your eyes at the sight. 

        Panties. 

        More specifically, the black lace panties Kylo had torn off you after last night’s mischievous “rendezvous” in the control room. 

        Fuck.         “Oh-” Hux turned his attention to you and maintained furious eye contact while one index finger continued to point at the pair of destroyed undergarments flung directly behind his main computer. “-Oh, my God, how disgusting!” you choked out, trying to avoid the burning of your cheeks. “Sir, I will take care of that right away for you.” 

        You rose from your chair and took two steps forward only to rethink your plan and grab two number two pencils, reaching for the panties and stabbing them ever so precariously. With pursed lips, you lifted them up at just the perfect height to make awkward eye contact with Hux over the torn waistband. 

        One lone eye twitched while the other was so wide you could almost see your panicking reflection in his cornea. “Burn them,” he hissed, “and never speak of this again.”

        “Y-yes sir,” you nodded, “of course, sir.” As fast and discreetly as you could, you speedwalked over to the doors that led into the hallway.

        “YN, wait!” Hux’s back was to you as you flinched and turned to face him.

        “Yes, sir?” 

        Fuck fuck fuck.

        “You hear any word of who might’ve done this, you bring it straight to me, understood?”

        Hallelujah.

        “Yes, sir.” Without another word, you dashed into the hallway, hightailing it as fast as you could run with your two arms precariously holding your own panties between a couple of pencils before you crashed into something solid.

        “Oof,” you coughed, bouncing back and shaking away the disorientation of the collision, only to meet eyes with the very culprit.

        “YN.” Kylo acknowledged your presence curtly as he had agreed to do for the past few months since your relationship had started. With his mask removed, you could almost see his eyes bug out of his brain when he noticed just what exactly you had been holding.

        “Is that…?”

        “Yep.” You nodded with nervous eyes. 

        “Yours?”

        “Yep.”

        “From yesterday?”

        “Mmhmm.”

        “Where did-”

        “The control room.” 

        “Fuck.” Kylo ran a hand through his hair and breathed out a sigh, eyes still locked on the panties you were currently stabbing. “Who-”

        “Hux.”

        “Damn.” He nodded and gestured to you. “Does he know they’re-”

        “No.”

        “Thank God.”

        “Yeah,” you scoffed and shook your head, trying to ignore the way even the sight of Kylo left you feeling. “Well, I better-”

        “Yes, of course.” Once more, he nodded, gesturing to the panties. “You… do that.”

        Awkward silence settled around the two of you as you watched the other over the outstretched pencils. Kylo’s eyes flickered with something more than you could decipher at such a moment while you squeezed your thighs together. 

        Finally, he made the first move to turn away and stepped aside to let you pass. 

        As you did so, a single hand snagged your hip to stop you in place before a pair of lips planted on the skin just above your collarbone. 

        “Same time tonight?” Kylo whispered, kissing the mark you had tried so hard to cover up. 

        “Yes,” you hummed, tilting your head to let his lips travel further up your already marked neck.

        “Same place?”

        “No!”