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#he does not show any interest in anyone but himself
chilschuck · 2 days
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beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333
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— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.
꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k
✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33
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— LAIOS:
✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.
✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.
✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.
✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!
✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.
✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.
“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.
In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”
You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”
Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.
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— CHILCHUCK:
✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.
✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.
✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…
✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.
✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…
✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.
“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.
“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.
You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”
The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.
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— FALIN:
✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!
✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.
✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.
✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.
✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.
“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.
“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.
“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.
“Let’s stay a little longer.”
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— MICKBELL:
✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.
✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.
✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.
✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.
✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.
“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.
“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.
“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.
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buddiebeginz · 2 days
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I’ve made posts about this before but I’m gonna keep on about it. Please if you love Buddie (when you have time) you need to be posting about them on every social media platform there is. Also liking and commenting on posts especially ones that are on official 911 accounts like the main ABC one or the actors or when interviews come out.
If ABC posts about Buck/Eddie or Ryan and Oliver you need to remind them in the comments we’re rooting for Buddie. I know Buddie fandom is bigger and louder than B/T fans but I keep seeing them all over. There's no reason that pairing with two eps of build up are getting anywhere near the level of attention as Buddie does.
I’m not saying as fans we have all this power over what is going to happen on the show but we have some sway. It’s part of how bi Buck has even happened. So us being so vocal and supportive of Buddie all these years and even more now while the story is still unfolding matters.
I don't want Tim or anyone else getting the impression that we want T*mmy sticking around any longer than necessary at least not as a love interest.
I know there's been a lot of talk about how the show needs take their time and build Buddie's story if they're going canon and I know some want Buck to be with T*mmy so Buddie can have that slow burn towards getting together. While I do think it's important that Buddie's story is not rushed and handled with care that fact is we really have no idea how many seasons the show even has. I wish some of you would realize we are not living in the golden age of tv anymore. We are living during a time when tv shows get canceled even when they are successful just as a way for networks to cut costs. It's why Fox canceled 911 before it was moved to ABC.
So as much as I do want the show take all the time in the world with Buddie I also want us to actually get to see them go canon. I also feel like we've been in a slow burn with them for six years especially those of us who have watched the show for its entire run. I want to see the show make some progression in moving Buddie's story further along. I'm not saying I want them to be in a relationship tomorrow, absolutely not. But I do think that moving into season 8 I'd like the show to have given us some kind of canon sign that both men feel something for each other beyond friendship. We know they do but I mean something that can't be taken any other way like say an almost kiss at the wedding for example. I'd also like for Eddie to be dealing with his own sexuality storyline by next season.
Back to T*mmy in all honesty the main reason I don't want to see him sticking around much longer is because of his fans. I'm tired of just how much the B/T fans have taken over our fandom. All the tags even ones on other social media platforms are being overrun by B/T and worse by negativity towards Buddie and Eddie and the complete minimizing of the importance of Buddie going canon. I'm glad that T*mmy has helped Buck with his bi awakening but he is so clearly not meant to be an endgame love interest. I just want to see him gone or have the storyline at least move on to where if he's still on the show it's as a friend for Buck, which I personally think he needs more than a relationship right now. Someone who is queer who can help him navigate this newly discovered part of himself.
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nonymous-nb · 1 day
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★═━┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈━═★
★ Subspace x Tall!Reader ★
★═━┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈━═★
"Tall ass bitch. — ..my tall ass bitch."
PHIGHTING! | Head-canon | Fluff | Romantic.
Warning/s: [data not found.]
Extra: [brain dead + my brain can't think of anything LMAO]
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ───────────────≺
• Ngl, I feel like Subspace wouldn't really care if you're tall or not..... lemme just write something up rq.
• Okay so, first of all, he thinks he's the tallest working demon in Blackrock. (He likes to intimidate shorter people with his height.. you can't change my mind.) So seeing someone taller than him and most importantly.. HIS OWN PHUCKING ASSISTANT— he was a bit flabbergasted when he wasn't the taller demon in blackrock now. sad lol.
• He does find your height quite useless and useful sometimes.. that's when he needs to reach much higher places that he can't reach that is.
• He doesn't like you nor does he hate you though, you guessed. he just thinks he doesn't need any assistant as he can do anything by himself, plus he has his biografts to order around.
• That's until neither of them could reach a tall ass shelf.
• He once ordered the biografts carry each other to get something off the shelf anddd... they all fell onto him LMAO—
• He did call out for you to get the stuff he needed, until you said something about him getting a chair or a ladder so he could reach it, yeah, he never asked again as he felt dumb of not thinking of that. -5 pts.
• Don't worry, you got him some mechanical parts as an apology that you think he'd like, so he won't kill you afterwards.
• He thinks it was a nice upgrade for his biografts though. +1 pts
• He is still an ass to you.
• But, he actually forgave you after about 3 months as you kept giving him the things he could use for his biografts, and occasionally asks you to buy some things..
• When he's chill and tired, do ask him about his latest inventions, he'll lighten up, he hides his little excitement and talk about it 24/7 and will never stop.. what have you done. +5 pts
• He now does insist that you go shopping with him at times, whenever he feels like it as you have an advantage to look for stuffs he wants. called you a dang giraffe too
• He makes you his personal eye shopping tree as you can see much higher places..
• Oh yeah, you carry everything too lol
• When you're now on his good side, he would repay you with a nod when you do/did something useful or worth his time.
• Don't worry it's gonna change overtime.. wink wink.
• For most parts, he acts like he doesn't like or care about anything, but wants you to get it for him secretly. do get it for him though.. +3 pts
• Oh, right, forgot to say that when you ask about his biografts or his inventions, AND you're actually interested in them??? Just know he's secretly giddy about it. +20 pts
• But now that he knows you're interested in his inventions, he showcases them to you, he never misses any damn details about it. (he talks about how efficient some of the component parts are too)
• Yay, you're on his good side, he's never letting your ass go now.
• Ngl, he dislikes it when you show anyone else with the same interest as you have for him, your interest shall solely be towards him, and him only.
• If he needs you for something and he can't find you? Yeah, doesn't happen you're the 2nd tallest in this building. no he doesnt wanna be on 2nd place.
• He also has this tendency to steal you away from anyone you talk to.. no matter how important it is, he's the boss, YOUR boss to be exact. So you should only follow HIS orders.. you are his assistant after all.
• Yeah, he only wants you to be interested in his doings and no one else. jealous ahh bit—
• [Y'know what, let's skip to when you guys are dating, yeah? I can't think of anymore bs.. why do i even do this..]
• You'll be the one carrying everything, no matter how small or big it is, you're carrying it.
• He uses you as a ladder, he makes you carry him whenever he can't reach crap.
• Also not only you're his ladder, he makes it as an excuse to do less things. Oh he could reach that? he calls for you. Oh no, it's it's a bit high up with a ladder besides it.... calls you anyway. You're his personal ladder now and you can't get away with it.
• He also makes you give him some piggyback rides, his legs are tired.
• Will definitely blush if you carry him bridal style.
• Don't do it in public though, he might present you a certain tripmine. *winks.*
• Also whenever he has some conversations with Scythe and makes him uncomfortable, he makes you as a shield.
• Scythe definitely think he's being babied.
• Overall, you're his.. you can't change that.
• You can't get away nor run now after all, you have him by your side..
≻─────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
[Ngl, I don't think Subspace really cares about how tall anyone is, he just wants his inventions done and stronger.]
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abiiiiackerman · 2 days
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Sexual Health of Corporal Ackerman
Since it's been almost a month till the last expedition, you're being bored. You're doing nothing but lazing around because you don't have much to do. So you start to walk around and find Levi in the mess hall, sitting alone, sipping his tea. You smile wickedly because an amazing idea hits your head.........
Levi was deep in thought, trying to focus on the tea in his hands. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t rid his mind of you, especially in his free time. He would never admit his feelings for you but it is known to everyone how crazy he is for you after witnessing his protectiveness and possessiveness for you.
As Levi watches you as you approach, he forces himself to look away…
"Hey captaaaain! I've been searching for you!"
You say as you  pull a chair in front of him and sit down making Levi look up at you with his blank face. He doesn’t want to give away any hint of his obsession, so he does what any good Captain would do… he tries to pretend he didn’t care about your presence and keeps sipping his tea without talking.
"I've some questions for you. About your sexual health.... It's important."
You ignore his dismissive attitude too and I place your chin on your palm and look at him.
Levi takes another sip of his drink to hide his nerves as you speak that and speaks in an annoyed tone.
“You shouldn’t be so interested in my personal matters, brat. I’d suggest you drop it.”
You speak, as lean on the chair comfortably.
"Oh but I am.... It's my duty to make sure everything is alright with every soldier here.... Including their sexual health. Also don't call me a brat. I'm a grown ass woman."
Levi narrows his eyes, trying his hardest not to let his annoyance show. He tries to change the subject.
”Well, I am a grown ass man that isn’t interested in having his sexual habits scrutinized.”
"When was the last time you released? Answer me."
You ask, sternly as you act like you didn't hear him speaking. You notice a hint of anger flashes in Levi's eyes as you ask such a personal question. His tone is sharp and his words are cold.
“That’s none of your business! This conversation is over, unless you want it taken to Erwin. Leave the room, brat.”
You smile and cross your arms over your chest and speak smugly.
"Oh please..... I wanna see how Erwin's face is going to be, hearing you complain that I asked you when was the last time you climaxed. Go on, old man."
Levi remains silent for a moment. He is not used to being spoken to this way, especially by a female. So after a long pause, he speaks, his voice colder than before.
“You won’t like what you see when Erwin finds out you were harassing me like this. It’s not your place to ask about my… release.”
"And it's definitely not your place to scare away the guys from me who I wanna date. Now answer my questions and we'll be even."
You say, crossing your arms and Levi becomes silent. His anger rises slightly when he hears you make your demands. And when he speaks, his tone is sharp.
“I haven’t had a reason to release. And my answer is final, now leave me to my tea.”
You flinch as he answers in a unbother tone.
"What? Are you crazy? Never? Even not when you are sleeping? You've gotta be kidding me. It's not normal."
You say in a shocked and tense tone making Levi go tense. It isn’t anyone’s business how he took care of himself, especially not yours. He clenched his jaw as he spoke, biting back his words.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you. Drop it.”
"No, it's important. Though it's harmless.... It may affect your future sexual pleasures and intimate relationships. May cause some infections too! I want the best for you... you know that right?"
You speak in a concerned tone, trying to make him understand.
“You don’t know anything. You don’t know me! You don’t know my past, and you sure as hell don’t know anything about what I feel.”
You sigh and hold his hand as you ask softly.
"Then tell me what you feel. Maybe I can help?"
Levi's entire body goes rigid as you took his hand. The last thing he wanted is to tell you about how it felt to be touch starved and how seeing your soft hands made his heart want to burst. But he couldn’t pull himself away. His body, his mind, everything was under your control as he felt your warm fingers interlace with his.
“Let go of me.”
His voice was cold but there was a definite flicker of emotions there. You hold his hand tightly.
"I will, I promise. If you need your space, I'll give it to you... Just answer a question of mine."
You ask softly and look at him sympathetically.
"You told me once your mother was a prostitute. And you saw her having sex with other men.... Does that affect you?"
You ask in a straightforward way but in a soft tone.
Levi freezes when you mention his mother. He has always felt ashamed that he couldn’t protect his mother from the way she was living. It is a constant weight on his mind to this day. He sighs, dropping his eyes away from you as his shoulders slumps. He doesn’t wanna talk about this.
“Of course it affects me. It always has.”
"Yeah it's stupid of me to ask.... Of course that affects you. I'm sorry."
You say as you release his hand and hug him as you pat his back. You know he needs it.
"You shouldn't let that affect you.... She had to do it... For you and for herself.... I bet she loved you a lot. And she's now proud of seeing you as a captain.... Maybe she didn't hate her life because she got you after all, right?"
You ask softly, still caressing his back.
When you speak, he can't keep the pain from his eyes. A lump of emotions tightened in his throat. He swallows his pain. This time he doesn’t push you away. He let you pat his back as he fights to hold back his tears.
“You don’t know anything.”
"I know.... I don't know that feeling.... That's horrible and scary that I won't even want my greatest enemy to feel that pain. But at least I can try to make you feel better. Even if it's a bit, right?"
You say and release the hug and smile at him making Levi loss for words. He felt you meant what you said and he has to admit, it made him feel better. A lot better.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He looks away as he asks, feeling the urge to hug you again.
You roll your eyes at his question.
"Because..... You're a fucking dumb person."
Levi looks up at you, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. He hates that you have triggered a reaction from him. But he woun’t let it show.
“I am not a dumb person. Just because I don’t want to share my feelings doesn’t make me an idiot.”
His words make you slap your forehead as you speak.
"You're really dumb... I was joking to make you smile, you idiot."
Levi stares at you for a long moment, watching you slapping your forehead. The irritation rises in him again, but he pushes it down. His voice was flat and emotionless when he spoke.
“I don’t find calling me dumb to be funny.”
You laugh at him.
"Fine fine.. I apologise, ok? Whatever, what I wanted to say is....Sex isn't a bad thing you know..... Especially when you do it with someone you love.... It feels good... I haven't had sex just like you, but I've kissed. When I hugged you, you didn't feel bad, right? It's just like that."
Levi stays motionless, he doesn’t know if he should laugh it off or take your words seriously. You're trying to get him to feel better, he understands that much. But you were so oblivious to his feelings that it was almost painful. He kept his face neutral as he speaks. The way you spoke made him wonder......
“You’ve kissed people? I bet they were the dumbest men in human existence.”
You completely ignore his insult and ask him curiously.
"Why do you think so?"
Levi’s face contorts into a frown from annoyance. He doesn’t want to admit he is jealous that you've kissed other men who are not him. He crosses his arms, a slight glint of anger in his eyes.
“Because anyone who kisses such a brat is an idiot.”
You laugh and speak smugly.
"Then you're an idiot too.... Because you let me hug you."
Levi freezes again, his anger is now replaced by embarrassment. He should’ve pushed you away, but he didn’t. Now he is being called out for it. He speaks quietly, looking into your eyes.
“I thought… you were trying to show me kindness?”
You nod as you speak and stand up.
"I was, and I want the best for you. Try to fall in love with someone, Levi. Think about them in your free time. Like kissing them, touching them..... Surely it would take some time... But eventually you'll reach the point where you'll be imagining yourself fucking her hard, making yourself hard too. And if you want any help... I'm always here."
You smile softly at him as you speak in a friendly way.
“I don’t need help, brat.”
He speaks more harshly than he meant to. His emotions are all over the place.You sigh and speak sarcastically.
"Then it seems like even a pathetic soul like me will lose her virginity before you."
Levi's ears burn as he feels that rush of jealousy that came from hearing your words. He takes a deep breath to compose himself, a single thought filling his head 'I won't let her.'
“I’m sure that will be a sad, lonely process for you. If you ever find anyone foolish enough to let you touch them.”
His insulting words make you angry immediately.
"Are you challenging me, captain? If you're, then I'll have sex tonight and show you if anyone wants to let me touch themselves or not."
You say crossing your arms and glare at him. As Levi narrows his eyes even more. He knows if he doesn’t stop you soon, you will follow your words. He can’t afford that.
“I forbid you to do such a thing.”
You roll your eyes and ask angrily.
"And why would I listen to you?"
A cold feeling washes over Levi.
He can’t let you! He won’t let you! Just the thought of someone even touching you makes his blood boil, though he keeps his calm demeanor.
“Because I’m your captain and you have to listen to me.”
You laugh as you keep looking at him.
"Do you even hear yourself how pathetic does that sound, captain? Just admit you're jealous."
Levi clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. Yes, he jealous. But that doesn’t mean he had to admit it.
“Shut up.”
"Tch.... You won't have sex with me or even let me have sex with another person.... Do you really think I would die as a virgin just because of you?"
You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes.
He speaks in a low, harsh voice that doesn't fit his usual calm demeanor.
“I’ll make certain that you are never touched by another man. Your body is mine. No one else but me will ever touch you. And if they dare, I won’t hesitate to make them regret that decision.”
"I'm being kind and ill give you three months, understand? If you can't become normal in this period.... I'm losing my virginity to someone else, captain. End of the discussion."
You say and turn away from him as you walk out of the room with a soft smile on your face.
You know it won't definitely take him 3 months because you're sure he has already started to fantasize about making love to you.
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strawbrygashez · 2 days
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Zero Day Family HCS
Some thoughts I have about how the two would interact with each others families and whatnot..
•In the movie, it seems like Cals family is always doing something & are very family oriented! With how large that one party was and how we see Cals parents interact with Cal a lot more positively than how Andres parents interact with Andre… SO this makes me believe that when Andre does accompany Cal to those big family events, he feels slightly overwhelmed and out of place.
Since Andres extended family is more than likely all back in Germany, it feels so alien for him to see a whole family around like this. Grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, you name it.. he has no idea it feels that’s like. It’s literally always has been just Andre and his parents the majority of his life.
That being said though, I think Cals close and extended family welcome Andre with open arms. They’ll chat with him and pull him either which way at a party to go see something or someone :,)
(Speaking of, wouldn’t it be funny if one of Cals cousins had a little crush on Andre.. and they tell Cal something like, “Yeah your friend over there is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” And Cal just… becomes a total dickhead and is like “Let me introduce you to him :D he’s single!” And drags them along to meet Andre despite their protests. He himself knows that Andre will more than likely not be interested at all but Cal loves pushing Andres buttons and making him uncomfortable every now and then.)
So Cal will walk off after he introduces the two and says some bs like “hey you aren’t seeing anyone right Andre? I want you to meet my cousin.” Andre is dying on the inside because he has no idea what to say to her and it’s just so uncomfortable for them both. He definitely finds Cal after and hits him in the back of his head)
•Cals siblings are obsessed with Andre. They always run to the door when he comes over and show him things they made or new toys they got and unless Cal puts up a fight or Andre is just really not in the mood, they’ll try to pull Andre outside so they can play things like football with him.
Initially, Andre didn’t think he’d like being around Cals siblings because for all he knew, all kids were just annoying and loud but once they started going on about how they like Andre more than their own brother sometimes, he’s making sure he’s the coolest guy they know. He likes the feeling of being someone others look up to and the little ego boost that comes with it :,)
•Again with Cals siblings, I think even they can tell how totally joined at the hip Cal and Andre are.. which leads to some teasing and “Uncle Andre” being said 💀 Andre won’t even take it to heart like he would if anyone his age was saying that kinda stuff to him since their just kids and are genuinely just playing around. He’ll just playfully shove them away or put a hand over their face to make them shut up.
•Andre isn’t particularly close to Cals parents but they like him well enough. Andre doesn’t really know how to deal with parental figures that well because his own parents are kinda just yknow ‘there’ for the most part. He doesn’t particularly feel very close to his own parents besides maybe his mom a bit.
————————————————————————
•Andres mom loves Cal a lot! I feel like Andre never had any close friends growing up so she’s so happy Cal hangs out with him. Especially because he seems so nice and a good influence (💀).
I like to imagine that one day, Cal went to Andres house because he needed to vent and just get out of his own house for a bit but when he showed up, Andre wasn’t there. Like maybe he’s working later then usual or some school thing came up. Usually, Cal would just go up to Andres room anyways to wait for him but Andres mom insisted on making him something.
Cals sitting there at the dinner table dissociating and she notices somethings off so she asks if he’s okay and.. he just starts bawling. He doesn’t even mean to but yknow how just hearing someone ask if your okay can make u cry? Yeah. So she sits down with him and tries her best to calm him down and understand what’s going on.
Hes’s eventually able to calm himself down with a mix of her help and him just being embarrassed he broke down in front of her. Andre comes in soon after and is very confused why Cal looks like he just got done crying with his mom next to him. And is even more confused when his mom tells Andre to keep a eye on him and maybe take him out somewhere.
•Andres dad and Cal barely interact besides Andres dad patting his shoulder and asking about school, girls, what he’s been up to and etc. Cal can tell that Andres dad doesn’t like him that much since Cal doesn’t really act all tough and masculine but it’s nothing crazy. Just kinda a thing where they’ll occasionally chat and nod to each other but that’s about it.
•Andres mom loves to share embarrassing things about Andre so much. Like telling stories about how cute Andre was and how he’d follow her around all the time when he was younger, how’d he pick her flowers, how he still believed in Santa a bit past the appropriate age to still believe in him, and etc. she also loves showing Cal Andres baby pictures and videos too. Andre will straight up leave or put his head in his hands but Cal doesn’t give a shit. He’s SO giddy about seeing this old side of Andre. It takes everything in Andre not to hit Cal when he asks “Where’d that sweet, kind boy go?”
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thranduel · 2 years
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mike being all cute as he excitedly talks about 20 sided dice 🥰
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thebadtimewolf · 5 months
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oh god. they grieved wilf's death together. i cant.
#tv: doctor who#{i. :( made my self sad}#{note: they just told you love interests was never a heal all solution for their psyche. fixing themselves to a 🤎 interest isnt healing}#{why didnt they fix themself to yaz rose sarah jane martha river: they were in the drs eyes friends but remember}#{they only consider them as friends. love interests are friends. donna isnt considered a friend. shes propped up to be his best friend}#{full stop. hell the companion reunion is set up as a group therapy in the show. shes in group therapy for the good and horrors of it all}#{yes this does mean that tentoo is separated from the doctor completely. hes just jackson lake.}#{he actually has a family: what about susan? from susan and down saw him more of a pedestal. it just stayed that way. donna didnt}#{they reiterated this over and over and over and over and OVER again. the dr doesnt need love from someone that sees them like that}#{they need love from someone that is actually willing to make him live day by day to heal to recooperate}#{after power of the doctor and then comics AND TV going back to back IM QUICK SUCCESSION OF NO REST? 14 is at full exhaustion}#{if rose told him to stop he wouldnt if martha clara sarah jane river yaz if any of them told him to stop they wouldnt listen}#{because he uses romantic love as an excuse to burn himself out AND HE DID LITERALLY 9 DOES THIS}#{it was never healthy. and then they kept going. and going and going}#{bill questioned but she couldnt stop him}#{she was the strongest cause of guilt because he retook the role of a professor role a role familiar to ace}#{only it got bill killed because he didnt slow down he didnt talk and decompress. ever. he used trenzalore as an excuse to never confide}#{in anyone and only telling stories so no would ask if HE was alright. yeah they lived but is he actually alright}#{no one talks. except. donna. 15 even states that they do rehab backwards AND THATS NOT HOW REHAB WORKS. YOU DONT GET TO SKIP TO HEALED}#{WITHOUT DOING THE ACTUAL PROCESS OF HEALING}#{he regenerate until he turn into a grain of sand but thats not healing. its just another way of avoid talking thru their grief}#{but they grieved! no they didnt. EVEN IN DW LOCKDOWN THEY DIDNT GRIEVE.}#{penelope garcia's clinical social worker said it best}#{all the things I've survived I have been absorbing trauma since I was really young and thinking I was some sort of hero for doing it.}#{newsflash she wasnt and for garcias 15 yrs vs the dr's billions on billions yrs worth of it: even when u do the right thing even when u}#{stop serial killers (or intergalactic threats) ur body is still absorbing that trauma.}#{they are not a hero for holding on to it because trauma has to be off-loaded. It has to be transformed or ur body will destroy u.}#{end quote.}#{like THATS WHAT DR HAS BEEN DOING THE WHOLE TIME AND 15 SAID: NO MORE! CONSIDER THIS 14S RETIREMENT.}#{i dont like the ending: well i do. 15 and rtd said grief n trauma therapy with donna or bust bitches}
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unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months
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eddie bracken as orville wingait in summer stock (1950)
#don't get it wrong abigail whacking orville upside the head is during their comedy backstage 5 sec to Resolution ending rush#literal last minute conclusion crunch in unsurprising formatting lol; i chose a more peaceful gif to end on. note the prior one's [feet Up]#i hope this illustrates There Is Much Material. more clips than this & truly as good or better a role as any others to choose from here#summer stock#conveniently it's apparently wingait in the movie but via that casting news this (2023) role is wingate#tcm fancam life...we've all been there. akd talking abt meet me in st. louis like maybe i should rewatch lol. have to muddle through someho#anyways there's for sure room to like grab a little thread of plot and enhance it in this story. e.g. orville & abigail could talk Thrice#their B-plot / more idiosyncratic romance there is still >>>>>> the main JUDY & GENE one unsurprisingly even w/o a third convo lol#whoops the main guy is an asshole. judy/jane learns she loves show business so just kinda may as well be in love w/the show guy ig#like girl you don't have to be...but ofc already although her & orville's dynamic is pleasant enough she seems somewhat disinterested#while fascinatingly for our purposes though orville is framed a bit like [this NERD] he can't be too dunked on b/c [romantic B-plot]#meanwhile abigail's Undeserving Of Gene/Joe (she is but she's too good for him) qualities being just that she's been too Indulged so like#in her lack of protestant ethic farm work she's so conceited & sensitive that she wants to rest & not be yelled at???#smash cut to for real judy/jane on Opening Night like asking tentatively like oh romantic interest you're Not gonna yell at me..??#but she's been Hard Working so she will tolerate the physical AND emotional demands. but she's also more Talented than abigail#so joe need not be mean to her Anyways like. okay wild maybe we could rework that but congrats abigail for NOT ending up w/him fr#meanwhile orville's arc (joe has none to speak of save realizing he wants to make out w/this other woman now) is as clear as anyone's#extricate himself from otherwise only getting to be an extension of his father who is generally interfering / directing / demeaning him als#another ''well i don't know about that'' element in that when orville Does tell him to cut that out his dad actually just rolls with that#and becomes more amicable lol like well that does work out & it's unsurprisingly like cmon orv you can't LET him treat you like that...#and if you didn't? he'd just be like ''oh haha okay''...like is abigail supposed to be ''right'' abt uhh romance there but yet she's just#too sensitive to handle Tell Don't Ask / No Apologies? maybe; but they both end up getting to Not Stand For It lol. i think that that would#ofc still be fun to develop. whereas w/joe it's like uh maybe make him Not a huge asshole in the end / judy p much in love w/Showbiz....#abigail & orville out here decidedly Not About Nonsense....but still a bit zany ig such that after the [imagine the foley] hit: it's good#like i'm sure it's ''orville's still enough of a NERD to be chill w/that'' & ''abigail's still DIFFICULT enough to put her foot down''#['50 gender politics] we all know that couple whose flaws & idiosyncrasies allow them to Apologize & Ask & use their inside voices#and be all upset if someone's trying to demean them. unlike True Romance of the man who won't bully his wife if she earns it :')#joe could instead uhh be a harried director who's actually Wrong for being a dick to his gf (if we even include that) w/the various sources#of pressure to make a show Work but there's all this req'd spontaneity / flexibility anyways & he learns that even if he's clenching throug#it he can Not take it out on other people / Make it succeed by Making ppl do anything. & also jane reminds him of Passion for this.
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wheresarizona · 22 days
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but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist - One Shot
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The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
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The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
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Masterlist - One Shot
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honeydazai · 2 months
Text
୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma
content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public
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It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.
He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.
[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”
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CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.
He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.
“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”
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Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.
He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.
[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”
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FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.
He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.
“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”
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It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.
While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.
“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”
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The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.
When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.
“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”
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giuliettagaltieri · 3 months
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Claim the Heritage
Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: The Wife
Warning: casual dominance, marital quarrels, tension, vulnerability, explicit smut, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, body worship, brat taming, self destructive tendencies
Word Count: 4364
6 of 6
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Coriolanus Snow has a knack of pushing himself too far.
He expects too much from himself and does everything in his power to meet those expectations.
As a student and a starting politician, he has done great things, contributing fresh insights to Panem.  And now that he is the President, he has the power to do things with his own hands.  No longer having to need the approval of people of higher status, not when he’s the President, nobody has power greater than his.
You worry that he might be forgetting his other responsibilities.
He is after all, not just Mister President but also your husband.
You see him often in the corridors and you exchange nothing more than sultry glances.  It was fun the first time you have done it but you are left wanting now.
At night, the two of you come home late, too tired to get some action going.
You have needs that long to be fulfilled.
And your unfed desires manifested in your temper.
The men in the room are discussing the recent power outage that paralyzed Panem for a day.  A malfunction caused by severe water temperatures in the hydroelectric dam in District 5 caused a cascading error in the system.  The Capitol and a portion of District 1 and 2 were able to continue their operation due to generators but the other Districts suffered from it.  And the one day pause of labor caused a slight drop to Panem’s stock charts.
All eight of your husband’s subordinates are trying to raise their opinions about the matter, how they will conduct another investigation as they are quite convinced it was human error, and how they will punish the one responsible for it too.
Their voices are starting to irritate you, making you tap your foot under the desk.  Coriolanus seems to be ignoring them as he reads through the report.  How he can manage to focus, you have absolutely no idea.
You try to regain your composure by taking a sip of water but it does not help, not one bit.  Deep intakes of breath also seem to be not working.
Coriolanus is still reading the report, his back against his chair as one of his hands toy with his pen.  His fingers are looking rather breathtaking today.
You look away before anyone could notice your desperation.
“Frankly, you are all arguing about matters that have been resolved already.”  He murmurs and you are thankful for it as the room quiets down.
“What do you mean sir?”
You bite your cheek to stop yourself from berating the man.  But Coriolanus can see that arch in your brow any day.  You are pissed.
“You have something to say, wife?”  He smiles knowingly at you and you look at him sharply but his smile only widens more.
“Well, all of you are being foolish!”  You finally burst.  Coriolanus leans back in his chair as if he is watching a rather interesting show.  “There is a report given, and a very good one at that.  Do you all have poor reading comprehension that you cannot understand that this is not a human error!”
The room falls silent as the men stare at you with their cheeks pinking in embarrassment.
Coriolanus clears his throat and leans closer to his desk.  “I believe what the Missus wants to say is that we must be coming up with solutions to prevent this from happening again rather than point fingers.”
You glare at him again but Coriolanus is not looking at you but the men who are nodding in agreement.  You hear a chorus of apologies from the men and you can’t help your bottom lip from jutting out in irritation.
“We can strengthen the system.  A collaboration with District 3, perhaps?”  A man says nervously, eyes flitting to you for approval but you don’t acknowledge him.
The other men raise their support.  They have to stay in your good graces.  All eight of them are dispensable.  If you talk to your husband to eliminate them, there will be nothing they can do.
They are proud men, but they too are necessary associates, albeit shortsighted at times.
You lean on your chair and swivel it so you are partially facing your husband.  “Another source of power.”
He nods at you to continue.
“A solar plant.”  You say.  “It is a good back up.”
Coriolanus rubs his chin and considers it for a moment.  “Indeed.  May I ask you to write a proposal, my love?”
“Of course.”  You say and you begin tidying up your stuff.  Coriolanus picks it up and addresses the men in general.
“I appreciate your…enthusiasm in helping our great nation.  Good day, gentlemen.”
They all file out of the room, thanking the President and you.  They all seem to sweat when you dismiss them with nothing but a brief nod.
Coriolanus leaves his chair and he eyes the pout in your lips. 
“Have a great day.”  You say as you stand.
“Leaving so soon?”  He raises a brow.
You stop in your tracks to look at him weirdly.  “You asked me to write a proposal?”
He hums at this and presses a chaste kiss on your lips.  “I will be seeing you at lunch, then.”  He guides you to the door and you both exit the meeting room to go to your separate offices.
His behavior is really really starting to irk you.
You are lying if you were not hoping that he would stop you and at least help out with the tension in your body.
But you guess not, he is a busy guy after all.
Coriolanus buries himself more and more with work.
You worry that he might be close to self-destruction.
The crops in District 9 suffered from a locust infestation and it kept him up very late for a few weeks.
You started to miss him very much.  Try as you might to stay awake in your room, it is not until nearly sunrise when he joins you.
It hurts and you hate yourself for being selfish.
One morning as you share your breakfast, you notice that he is barely touching his food as he reads the report about the red tide poisoning in District 4.
“Corio, eat.”  You say before your lips wrap around a strawberry.
He only hums in response as he flips to the next page of the report.
You glance at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, his skin looking dehydrated, and it is evidenced by the cracks in his lips.
“You will die before you turn thirty if you keep that up.”  You say lowly before you suck on your finger absentmindedly, your eyes now scanning your bowl for the next strawberry you’ll eat.
This caught his attention.
“What did you just say?”  There was a challenge in his voice and you hesitate for a moment, heart wanting to submit and apologize but the Swansworth blood courses through your veins and you fear you will shame the strong women before you if you fold so easily.
You look at him dead in the eye.  “You will die before you turn thirty if you keep that up.”  You smile at him sweetly.  “Was that clear enough for you, or do I have to repeat myself again?”
His jaw tightens, his eyes sharp.  He does not take mentions of his death lightly.  Had you been anyone else, you would have your tongue cut off and live as an Avox.
“You really are your father’s daughter.”  He sighs, trying his best to hide the amused smile you put on his face.
You wanted to retort but your words die in your tongue.  Coriolanus glances up at you when you don’t speak.  Usually, you would have bitten another comment at him.  But you were only looking at your strawberries sadly, finger tracing the bowl that held them.
The sound of paper crinkling had you looking up.  He folded the report away, he had the necessary information he needed anyway.  Coriolanus knows you are watching him and he scoops a mouthful of truffle scrambled eggs.  You gave him the sweetest smile he had seen on your face for weeks, and it was motivation enough for him to eat the breakfast that was served to him.  Yet, he still finishes first.
You pout unknowingly when he wipes his lips with the napkin and walks over to kiss your forehead.
“I will be seeing you later for your report.”
“See you.”  You reply with less enthusiasm.
He watches how sadness swam in your eyes and he leans closer to peck your lips and he is off.
You did not have much energy for work afterwards.
The meeting was at 10 in the morning and you arrived in the meeting room at 10:02.  Coriolanus was not pleased.
He did not back you up when the other men in the room asked questions about your presentation.  It was their job to pick apart your proposal and you only show them how flawless it is.  They are finally satisfied with it after a while, your throat burning from how many questions they asked.
You are infuriated with your husband.  You feel like he is throwing you to the wolves.  Not that you can’t tame the said wolves but it made your blood boil.
“I have decided to call this solar plant, Coriolanus 9.”  You attempt a smile and they actually bite.  “In honor of our President, and us.”  You purposefully let yourself blend in with the men in this proposal.  You need to boost their morale from time to time.
All eight of them murmur their agreement, smiles wide as they feel honored just by being included in the project.
After a few more questions from them, your husband finally adjourns the meeting.
His lack of support was not appreciated and you are determined to get out of this stuffy meeting room.
“Gentlemen, that would be all.”  
What about you?
Your lips part in protest but Coriolanus raises a finger at you, making you close your mouth as you narrow your eyes at him.
After the men filed out, you got up briskly, your chair wheeling back in a great speed.
“Careful.”
“Oh, so you’re talking now?”  You snap, your hand placed on your hip.
Coriolanus only leans on his chair as he looks you in the eye, his chin tilted upwards.
“I am…”  he pauses as he scratches his chin.  “upset with you.”
You scoff.  “You are upset with me? I am upset with you!”  You point at him harshly.  “You were the one who asked me to make a proposal and present it afterwards!  But what did you do?  You did not support me or give me assurance!”
“I was confident in your proposal.”  Coriolanus stands up calmly, his hands in his pockets, his thumb jutting out.
You give him one final glare and you huff, turning your nose up as you look away.  “I am done talking to you today.”
Coriolanus grips your arm before you can walk away.
His hand is warmer than usual and you frown.
“Do you need me to put you in your place?”  
The threatening growl in his voice washed away all the fight in you.
You bite your lip nervously, the entire bottom lip disappearing behind a row of teeth.  You shake your head and you tear up from how pathetic you have become for this man.
He smooths your hair and places a warm kiss against your temple.  “Be good.”  He murmurs.
You watch him collect his things and he throws you one final warning glance and he exits the meeting room.  Your hands grip the hardwood table to steady yourself.
How dare he!
You are his wife, not some District whore that needs to be reprimanded, you will not allow such disrespect again!
Coriolanus is not surprised to see you miss lunch.  His assistant tells him that you are having luncheon with Mrs. Plinth.  And that…you canceled all your plans for the day.  And the rest of the week.
He taps a finger on his desk and wonders if he pushed you too far earlier. 
Coriolanus glances at your photo in his desk.  Your smile was brighter then.  
A slight pounding in his head makes him grimace and he groans.
There were two more bills he needed to get through before he could relax.  Coriolanus inhales sharply, forcing his eyes to read through the files.
It was night time when he came home.  He missed dinner again.
Coriolanus had an unsettling feeling in his stomach when he entered your home.  It was dark and cold.
There was enough security outside but no signs of life inside.
Your servants usually retire after dinner and come back only in the mornings to serve you your breakfast.
But where are you?
Coriolanus doubles his steps to check your bedroom, you are not there.
His heart starts pounding, cold sweat dripping from his temple as he runs around his mansion in his tight suit.  He wanted to ask the peacekeepers stationed outside if you are even in your mansion when he catches a glimpse of your sheer robe in your sunroom.  He steps closer and sees you there, asleep in your plush chair, curled up around a book.
For a moment, he just stares at you, calming himself down.  No one has taken you and you did not leave.  Coriolanus seats himself to the identical chair across you and just looks at the rise and fall of your chest.
You must have fallen asleep as you were having your afternoon read.  It appears you might have missed dinner, as none of the lights are on.  The servants must have left it off so as to not disturb your sleep.
The night deepens and he just sits there, still convincing himself that you are still with him.
Coriolanus believes he will be there until morning comes but fate has other plans and your book slips from your hold, the hardcover making a loud slamming noise against the otherwise silent evening.
You jolt awake from the noise and when you reach for it, you catch a glimpse of him and you jolt for the second time.
“Heavens!”  You clutch your chest tightly, your eyes glaring accusingly at him.  “Do not scare me like that!”
He laughs hollowly.
“Apologies.”  He mutters.
You lean back in your chair, holding your book in your lap.
“Have you eaten your dinner?”  You ask just to break the silence.
“Not yet and neither did you.”  He uncuffs his sleeves and loosens his tie.
You purse your lips.  “I had tea and cakes this afternoon.”
“When did tea and cakes pass as dinner?”  He drapes his waistcoat on the armrest together with his tie.
You choose not to answer as you have a feeling the question was rhetorical.
Coriolanus rests his arms on his thighs and clasps his hands as the silence lengthens.  Moonlight was emitting a pale glow, it reflected on your faces and everything else was still.
“My father casts a very large shadow.”  He tells you.
You nod.  You both have that in common.  But you do not want to tell him as his case was different.  You are aware of his struggle while growing up, the things he has done that could have tarnished his name, and now, he has become the President, a leader of Panem, and the footsteps that his father left for him to follow might be too large for him.
“I wanted to do everything right.  To do things how he would have done it.  Maybe even more.”
You play with the edges of your book as you listen, afraid that if you’ll talk, his walls will come building itself up again.
“He was not the best father.  Nor husband.”  He chuckles bitterly.  “I was sure, I would be just like him too.”
You bite your lip as you will yourself not to cry in front of him.
“But I enjoy your company, wife.”  Coriolanus tells you truthfully.  “I love you.”  He confesses, making your chest tighten.  “I do not wish for this marriage to fail.”
You cannot help how a tear rolls down your cheek.
“Come here.”  He commands and you throw yourself to him, sobbing to his chest.  “I am terribly sorry for being a lousy husband.”
Your tears soak his dress shirt as Coriolanus peppers kisses on your head.
“Been neglecting my wife, how awful of me.”  His hand grips on your bum possessively.  “When she should have been worshiped day by day.”  His tone changes ever so slightly into something you hear only inside your bedroom walls.
You do not protest when he lays you on the chaise lounge.  Your sobs turn to sniffles when Coriolanus parts your thighs and bunches your dress until it shows your abdomen.
“Corio.”  You whisper his name like a prayer and he mumbles yours against your skin.  You watch as he plants his lips on your scar.  A scar that you got from taking a bullet for him.
It was not the last time you whispered his name in the dead of the night.
“Your petals always have the sweetest nectar.”  He groans and you feel yourself shy away, hips hiking up and away from him but his arms tighten their hold around your thighs and he looks at you from there, his eyes giving you a silent warning.
“S-sorry-ah!”  You gasp as his tongue darts out to lick the juices off your slit.  His tongue pokes at your pearl and you break eye contact with him when he wraps his lips on your tiny nub.
Coriolanus looks at you with his eyes now lazy but his tongue, the opposite!
He kisses you and in an act of total impulsiveness, starts tracing his name on your clit.  Coriolanus Snow was owning you in every way possible.
He had you reduced to your most carnal self.  Your hands were on his platinum hair, gripping them tightly in your hold, selfishly pulling him in.  Your thighs are resting on his broad shoulders.  And your cunt, it was making a mess on your chaise lounge and on your husband’s face.
Coriolanus groans as he parts your lips so he could kiss your opening.  His thick finger, that you have been craving, sliding on your juices before he plunges it knuckle-deep.  It might have been a mistake on his part given your sensitivity after having to be forced to join him in his self-induced celibacy.  Your lewd mewl brought rouge to his cheeks.
You bring your hands to your mouth to hush yourself and Coriolanus took that as a challenge.  He sits up, sitting on his ankles to press your thigh to your chest as his finger prods at you from the inside.
You are writhing underneath him.  Telling him how good he is making you feel.  Oh, and he reveled in it.  Every sound that comes from your lips, it fueled his desire more and more.
A second finger was added and you shriek from the stretch, it has been a while, he needs to be more gentle!  But Coriolanus cannot help himself when you look so pretty.  Your cheeks wet with tears, eyelashes clumping up, as your hands formed tiny fists.  Any form of his self control has disappeared when you are gushing and pulsating around his fingers.
He knows you’re nearly there, so close!
You pant, closing your eyes as his fingers massaged your walls, coaxing you to climb higher and higher and-
“Coriolanus!”  You yell furiously when he pulls his fingers out.
Your husband grins at you as he wipes his face from your slick.
“I seem to recall that someone was not a very good girl this morning?”  His hands trailed at your hips and you almost tear up from frustration.
He was supposed to be making it up to you!  He had no reason to bring up the events this morning.
In an act of defiance, you huff and you reach your own sex to flick at your clit.  Your fingers are more delicate, making you gasp at the gentle pleasure.
Coriolanus grins as he watches you play with yourself.  Enjoying how you grow more and more frustrated as you cannot give yourself the same pleasure.  You shriek angrily as you pull your fingers away, you slam your tiny feet on the chaise and Coriolanus laughs. 
“Are you done being a brat?”
You are too stubborn to answer but you do not stop him when he maneuvers you until you are on your stomach, you groan softly in discomfort when he pulls your hips so your cunt is presented to him beautifully.
His fingers are prodding your entrance again and you mewl when he pops his tip in.   Coriolanus stays there for a moment as his hands, rough from his time as a peacekeeper, grips on your waist firmly.
“There’ll be no stopping, alright?”  He reminds you.  “We’re done when I say we’re done.”
You lift your head from the plush of the chaise lounge and you give him a nod. 
“Put your head back down, my love.”
You do as he tells you and you brace yourself.
Coriolanus enters you with a sharp thrust, and your whimper is muffled by the cushions.  Your husband thrusts at a steady speed, his eyes watching the impact ripple on your body.
Your breath hitches with every kiss his tip makes on your cervix.  Every slap of his hips against you makes the crudest sound, sending a jolt of arousal through you.  President Snow is a man of the most refined of tastes, the pinnacle of order.  But when he beds you, he is just as raw, just as unrestrained.
“Don’t know why I deprived myself of your wet cunt for so long.”  And his mouth spewing the most vulgar of things.
He uses his weight to push you further in the mattress so he can fuck you deeper.  Your cunt spasms and you moan shakily, almost sobbing.
“Chase it, my love.”  He groans deeply.
And you unravel, lewd sobs spilling from your polished tongue as your back arches, cunt creaming around his cock.
Coriolanus watches you sob, your shoulders shaking as his thrusts do not relent.  His eyes flicker to where your bodies meet, your warm juices are dripping on his taut sack.
“Corio…Corio please!  I don’t think I can anymore….”
“Hm?”  He reaches to grab your chin.  “Thought I told you that we’re only done when I say so?”
You look at him with tears sliding down your cheeks.  You can’t even focus on him, body shuddering when your tummy feels another tight coil.
Coriolanus inhales sharply when he feels the familiar pulsation of your warm softness.
His tip twitches as it bumps your plump cervix.  And when you call his name with your broken voice as you cum, he shoots his seed in you.
“Hah…hah.”  
He is panting from on top of you, his hand placed against your bottom to keep himself up.
Coriolanus gently pulls himself out, watching the gossamer webbing of your arousal on his cock.  He smacks your bum and you tighten your cunt to keep his seed from spilling.  He scoots closer so he is holding you, your back against his chest as your legs tangled together.
The two of you gaze at the moon from the enormous windows of your sunroom.  It was calm again.  Nothing but your heartbeats and the gentle breathing lulling each of you closer to sleep.
“Corio.”  You call his name softly.
He hums in response as he pulls you closer, just needing to feel you against him.
“The people of Panem are not your fucking masters.”
His brows meet and he glances at you, wondering where all of this is coming from.
“They cannot have you always cleaning up their mess like you are some District servant.”
He shifts you so you are facing him now.  His stern brows meet to let you know you are on thin ice.
“You govern your people.  You don’t coddle them.  Let the District officials do their job.  They must learn to solve their own problems and the Capitol Bureaucrats must see to it that they are doing it in ways that align with your judgment.  And you lead them from the top.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
You yawn like the adorable thing you are.  “So Snow lands on top.”
He clicks his tongue smoothly.  “You are only attracted to power.”
“My love.”  You say rather darkly.  “You are power.”
Coriolanus falls silent, contemplating your words, letting himself process it.
He sighs as he looks at you in endearing defeat.  “You just want a vacation, don’t you?”
You fight back a smile as you smack his chest.
“I am being serious, Coriolanus Snow.”
He pulls you closer, teeth glinting as he snickers.  “I understand that, Y/N Snow.”
“Y/N Swansworth-Snow.”  You remind him and he laughs.
“Of course, of course.”
You lean your head on his chest and your cheek soaks his warmth.
“You know, you are not your father, Corio.”
He winces.  “I know…I’m just-”
“You are better.”
That sinks deep in him.
He now understands why there was something in you that pulled him in.  No one in Panem, or in this world, could understand his soul in its most naked form.  You are his stability.  Someone whom he cannot scare away when he is darkest.
Because it seems like you might be exactly just like him.  Just as cruel, just as evil, with no regards to anyone but each other.
And he is fine with that, even if the world is burned to ash around you.
“My love for you is catastrophic.”  Coriolanus murmurs against your skin and you smile as you close your eyes.
You run your finger on his chest.  “And my love for you is all-consuming.”
Coriolanus and you are obsessive, ablazed with reckless passion, villainous in nature, but it is easy to justify when you are both equally drunk with dangerous devotion.
The people of Panem be damned.  
The odds will forever be in your favor.
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Hunt for Glory
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2K notes · View notes
sflow-er · 9 months
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So many thoughts on the fabulous Barbie film, but especially on how anyone who thinks it’s “hateful towards men” clearly isn’t getting the message.
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
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[Credit for both gifs goes to their makers!!]
I mean... Ken’s arc is secondary to Barbie’s, and rightly so. This is her film, and her message deserves to be the main takeaway.
That being said, I just find it really sad that the people who could’ve definitely used the point of Ken’s arc just let it go right over their heads. Maybe it’s because they aren’t great at reading subtext, or because they just balk at anything presented as feminist, I don’t know.
Because to me, Ken’s arc is about as far from “hateful towards men” as you can get. It’s a multi-layered depiction of how restrictive, outdated views of masculinity can hold men back and make them susceptible to harmful ideologies that promise easy solutions for all their problems but only make those problems worse and hurt others around them.
The first layer is an allegory for real men don’t show their feelings. In the movie, this is represented by Ken’s need to look tough and cool all the time, and to keep his insecurities and sadness bottled up. Barbieland is a utopia where being happy is a social norm, and the main Barbie also starts to struggle with that. The difference is that she eventually tells her friends, and they all support her. Ken just puts pressure on himself not to look weak - in front of Barbie, or in front of the other Kens.
Which brings us to the second level: a competitive and inherently hostile view of the other Kens, aka. toxic male relationships. Some of them are friends, and all of them work together for a while to build the Patriarchy, but they don’t actually bond for real. Even their boys’ nights are mainly about getting back at the Barbies for all their girls’ nights (which really were about bonding). When push comes to shove, the Kens still see each other as competition, which is one of the reasons why the Barbies are able to play them against each other.
Another reason is the third layer: the idea that Ken only has value if Barbie loves and admires him. It starts out as unrequited love that makes you feel sorry for him...until he turns bitter. He basically starts on the path that could lead him down the incel/mra rabbit hole and into a mindset where Barbie owes him love and admiration and the relationship he wants in exchange for his devotion to her. He decides that everything would be better if Barbies were subservient to Kens, but of course that’s not true. None of the Barbies’ newfound admiration for their Kens is real, and his own Barbie still rejects him.
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All this is of course underpinned by the final layer, which is Ken’s lack of self-respect and sense of purpose. He’s got a pointless job, he’s not particularly qualified for anything, and he just feels kind of lost in Barbieland - a society run by successful Barbies who are living up to their full potential. That’s why he gets so caught up in the idea of the Patriarchy, which is supposed to make him successful, get others to respect him, and give him a sense of purpose. (This can be generalised to all kinds of harmful ideologies in the real world, e.g. the alt-right movement.)
However, the success he achieves is superficial and not based on any real passion; he even admits that he wasn’t happy in his new position and already lost interest in the ideology. The (forced) respect of others does feel good for a while, but it only goes so far. At heart, the whole thing is still mostly about his feelings of inferiority and unrequited love for Barbie, and instituting this harmful new system did not resolve those for him.
So what does? In essence, breaking out of all these harmful patterns and internalising the idea that he is enough.
He ends up reflecting on his feelings, finally puts them to words (or rather, song and dance), and manages to connect with the other Kens through those feelings. He even cries in relief and acknowledges that it doesn’t make him weak. He and Barbie finally have a proper talk, he lets go of their (non-)relationship, and he listens when she says he needs to figure out his real self. He starts to see himself not through his job, his girlfriend, or even his competition with the other Kens, but as just Ken, who is enough.
I honestly can’t think of a less hateful message to send men and boys.
4K notes · View notes
yxngbxkkie · 2 months
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showing your 🍒 during an argument (hyung line)
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so, i've been seeing the trend on tik tok where significant others show their chest during an argument, and i thought of doing an ot8! i'm gonna work on the maknae line next, so look forward to that! i do hope you guys enjoy this 🩷
Bang Chan
You're sitting on the couch with your arms crossed. Chan paces in front of you, his hands combing through his dark hair. “I don't get why you just can't listen to me,” he says, halting his movements to look at you.
“Baby, I'm listening to you. I just don't see the problem,” You shrug your shoulders.
“Don't see the problem? Y/N, you're my fiancé. He tried desperately to get into your pants,” he explains with a huff of breath.
You smile softly and stand up from the couch, smoothing out your dress. “I'm not wearing pants,” you sarcastically point out, earning a glare from Chan.
“Can you be serious for two minutes?” He asks, rolling his eyes before heading into the kitchen area.
“Baby,” you call after him, releasing a quiet sigh. “Some guy wanted to fuck me and I told him that I wasn't interested. I wasn't finished telling him that I'm marrying you when you intervened.”
Chan rests his hands on the island counter, keeping his gaze on the floor. “He wouldn't have walked up to you in the first place if you wore something–” His words are cut off when he looks at you, eyes widening upon seeing you topless. “Uhm… if you…”
You giggle and shake your head, not expecting him to lose his train of thought instantly. “If I wore something less revealing?” You finish for him, tilting your head as Chan continues staring at your chest.
“Yes,” he mumbles, dragging his hand across the island as he walks over to you.
His hands find a place on your hips before one of them hesitantly reaches for your breast. You smile at him, bringing a hand to his hair. “Are you still mad?” You jokingly ask with a pout, arching your back to accentuate the breasts.
“Nope,” Chan whispers, dipping his head down to plant kisses on your chest. “You're mine. Only mine.”
You chuckle at his possessiveness, nodding your head along with him. “All yours, baby. I don't need or want anyone else,” you reassure him, cupping your hands on his face.
His eyes meet yours, smiles present on both of your lips. “I love you,” Chan mumbles, nuzzling his cheek against the palm of your hand.
You lean on your toes, capturing his plump lips in a quick kiss. “I love you too, Chan.”
Lee Know
“I don't know why you get like this every time we argue,” Minho mutters, pushing past you to head into the kitchen.
“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, furrowing your brows. You carefully take your shoes off and follow suit.
He pulls a coke from the fridge, quickly opening it up and taking a sip. “The attitude you get. You're all up in my face questioning me about some chick I don't give a shit about,” he explains to you, taking another drink.
“I'm sorry I'm upset about my boyfriend having to work with a girl who's trying to get in between us,” you point out, crossing your arms.
Minho gives you a deadpan look while setting down his drink. “And every time I tell you that, I feel nothing towards her. The shit she does or says doesn't affect my feelings for you.”
“God, I'm fucking tired arguing about this,” you mention, watching your boyfriend look into the fridge again.
He mumbles to himself, and you're not able to make out any words. You do what you do best to try and move away from this conversation. You hook your fingers under your shirt, lifting the fabric up to expose your breasts.
Minho turns back around, ready to say something when he notices. His jaw drops slightly, his cat-like eyes drifting down to your chest. “Shit,” he mumbles, tilting his head a bit as he admires you. “I– What have I done to deserve this?”
You chuckle and take a step closer to him. “I like to see you flustered,” you tell him, adjusting your shirt so you can bring a hand to his face.
He leans into your touch as his eyes shift from your face to your chest. “I'm sorry,” Minho apologizes, one of his hands gently stroking the mound of your breast.
“It's okay. I'm sorry too,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips.
Minho's free arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I can… make it up to you,” he mumbles into the kiss, pulling back for a quick second.
You giggle, moving his bangs away from his eyes. “Oh, yeah? And how are you going to do that?” You ask him with a light smirk.
His hands move away from your chest, resting against the back of your thighs for a moment before he lifts you into his arms. A squeal escapes your lips, wrapping both of your arms around his neck.
“I think you know,” Minho smirks, carrying you to your shared bedroom.
Seo Changbin
Changbin walks into your shared apartment, setting his gym bag down by the door. He stretches his arms over his head while walking further into the place.
“You know,” your voice startles him, looking towards the couch to see you sitting with a book. “It'd be nice to know where my boyfriend is.”
He rolls his eyes at your words, releasing a huff of breath. “You knew where I was going,” he mentions, dipping into the kitchen to grab a drink.
“Yeah, okay, but you were gone so much longer than normal,” you remind him, setting your book down. You kneel on the couch, watching him while leaning against the back of it.
“What's the big deal? Chan joined, and we went longer. Plus, we had dinner,” Changbin explains, shrugging his shoulders.
You lick your lips, getting a little annoyed at his attitude. “Okay, so, if I go out for longer than you're expecting, you won't be worried?” You ask him with a raised brow.
Changbin looks at you, pondering your question. You can see his dark eyes soften a bit, knowing he's always been a little protective of you.
“That's different,” he points out, taking a couple of gulps.
“How?!” You laugh, tilting your head. “Look, all I'm asking for is little updates if you're going to be longer than expected. That's what I do with you.”
Your eyes roam down Changbin's figure, resisting the urge to bite your lip. “You know I have crazy hours anyway, I don't know why you're so pressed today,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear, disappearing back into the kitchen.
You roll your eyes at him, knowing one trick that'll get him to listen to you. You hike the front of your shirt down, exposing your breasts he loves so much.
Changbin walks back into the living room, halting his steps as soon as he sees your bare chest. “I–” he cuts himself off. “What were we talking about?”
A giggle leaves your lips, and he stumbles over towards you. His fingers graze your skin as his eyes roam your chest. “You're going to tell me if you're late from now on, yes?” You ask him, combing your fingers through his curly hair.
He glides his lips along your skin, planting a few kisses. “Absolutely,” he mutters, his hands sliding around your waist.
“I love you, Binnie,” you tell him, hooking a finger beneath his jaw to lift his head. “I love you so much.”
His eyes meet yours, and you can see the love in them. “I love you, sweetheart,” Changbin mutters, quickly kissing your lips. “I'm sorry for being a little stubborn.”
“It's okay,” you remind him with a smile. You run your hands along his biceps, squeezing gently. “Why don't we go to our room, and you can show me what you did on your workout.”
Changbin smirks, and he flexes his arms for you. “Don't need to tell me twice,” he mentions, grabbing your hand before tugging you towards your shared bedroom.
Hwang Hyunjin
“Y/N, where's my paint brushes?” Hyunjin asks you from inside his studio.
You stand up from your spot on the couch, heading into the kitchen to grab said brushes. “I was cleaning up the apartment today and washed them for you,” you say while walking into his studio.
His eyes widen, and he quickly grabs the cup of brushes from you. “What?! You washed them?” He asks, checking the bristles.
“Yeah, I thought–” you frown, getting cut off by him.
“What'd you use? You have to wash them with a special soap,” Hyunjin mentions, grabbing the soap he uses on the shelf beside him.
“Oh, I didn't know that,” you mutter, feeling a little upset with yourself. “I'm sorry, honey. I'll buy some new brushes if they're ruined.”
Hyunjin huffs and walks around the room, gathering some paint so he can test the brushes. You stand in silence, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him carefully.
He pinches his nose after testing it on an empty canvas, and you feel bad for ruining them. “I'll make it up to you,” you tell him, taking a step forward. “I promise, I will. We can go today.”
His eyes glance towards you, noticing the guilty look in your eyes. “You don't need to, it's okay,” Hyunjin mentions, knowing the price of his brushes are expensive.
“Please,” you almost beg, reaching out to grab his wrist. “I know you're worried about the price of them, but it's for you.”
He smiles to himself, shaking his head at how generous you are. “I love you, angel. You really don't have to, though,” he tells you, lacing his fingers with yours.
“Hm, then how about,” you pause, tapping your lips a couple of times. A smirk replaces the smile you have, an idea popping into your head. You hook your fingers underneath your shirt, pulling the article of clothing off.
Hyunjin's eyes widened, and his lips parted in surprise. “Angel,” he trails off, reaching a hand out to you. “Shit, you're so pretty.”
Your cheeks flush at his compliment, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Hyune,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.
“Hey, hey, don't hide. Let me look at you,” he pulls your hands away before taking a step back. You lick your lips as you watch Hyunjin admire your body. “Can I paint you?”
Your heart flutters in your chest, nodding your head with no hesitation. “Why don't we…” you trail off, walking closer to him again. “Go get your brushes and some food, then come back here.”
Hyunjin nods his head, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss. “Sounds splendid, angel.”
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
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lixie-phoria · 4 months
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bff!stray kids and the little things they do when they have a crush on you
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pairing : stray kids x reader | genre : fluff | warnings : none
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🧿 ┆ CHAN - he stalks your pinterest saves to see your latest interests
He doesn't do it in a creepy way, i promise. he just likes to go through your latest pins and find out what you're into and surprise you without you even having to tell him!! He spoils you so much :(( You recently saved a really cute fit inspo? He's going to order it for you. Saw you saving pins of pretty bouquets? You'll find the very same one in his hands as he picks you up from work. This man is such a sweetheart you're so lucky.
🧿┆ LEE KNOW - purposely forget his hoodies and tshirts at your place so you can wear them
Is it really an accident that he forgot his hoodie at your house for the fifteenth time even after you reminded him multiple times? Of course! Or at least that's what minho insists. He's never going to tell you that he intentionally forgets them at your place because it gives you an excuse to wear it. he will never tell you how delusional he is and how much it plays into his fantasies of you dating him when he sees you in his clothes. He's such a simp lmao please.
🧿 ┆ CHANGBIN - will buy anything that reminds him of you
He misses you so much on tour and can't stop thinking about you :(( even the smallest objects remind him of you. He goes to a beach in Australia and sees a shell whose colors match those of a really pretty dress you have? He's going to take it without a second thought, somehow managing to make a hole in it and looping an expensive chain through it because the shell may be simple but he loves spoiling you rotten with expensive gifts too. He sees a potted plant in some foreign country that looks somewhat like the one you have at your place? Of course he's going to buy it. Please don't ask him how he plans on getting it through airport security. He's too busy thinking about you to worry about all that!!
🧿 ┆ HYUNJIN - he lets only you paint his nails and do his make up!!
He's going to be sooo whiny as you drag him into the cosmetics store at the mall but anyone can see the stars in his eyes as he looks at your excited smile. The second you're in he's going to be all over the place, picking out items he thinks would go well with your features. And if you want to try out any of the products, he's offering himself before you can even pick the samples. Loves to have you paint his nails, try a new shade of lip gloss on his skin or the texture of a new blush. he will do anything for you. he does not care about the looks he gets as he proudly walks around with all 10 finger nails painted in mismatched colours.
🧿 ┆ HAN - He always let's you have the first bite of food
lover boy is so whipped i cannot stress enough. whenever you guys go on dates hang out, he purposely orders a starter he knows you like and insists you have the first bite. always. if you accompany him on set he remembers to carry snacks so he can share them with you and fights any member who tries to take some hahaha
🧿 ┆ FELIX - always takes your input when getting ready for a comeback
you see all those funky hair colors felix sports every comeback and pulls them off every single time? yeah thats all you. never once has he failed to ask you what colors you'd like to see him in. and he won't listen to you complain about how it might potentially damage his hair. you want to see him in blue? he's already texting his hair stylist l. you've been into purple lately? he's already discussing the different shades with you. it's so sweet and he loves it when he can finally show you the new look.
🧿 ┆ SEUNGMIN - "accidentally" takes your stuff so it gives him an excuse to drop it off at your place and see you
seungmin being upfront about his crush on you? of course not. he's such a baby lmao will never have the courage to tell you but he also doesn't know how to explain why he always wants to be around you. so he comes up with a (supposedly) fool proof plan!! he takes your stuff whenever you guys hang out so it gives him an excuse to come over and give it you later on. if you're ever missing a clutch clip or your lip gloss best believe he has it. and watch him laugh it off as an accident. he gets so embarrassed when the other 7 see right through him hahaha but he'd rather be teased because its worth seeing you
🧿 ┆ JEONGIN - aggressively confesses his love for you
he's so adorable. he isn't really sure how to navigate your relationship because its all so new to him but he also wants you to know that he genuinely likes you. so he sticks to saying i-love-you's at the most random times and so aggressively it nearly scared you the first time. so many of his good morning texts read along the lines of good morning i hope you're up or i will splash water down your pretty face. don't forget breakfast because it's important for you. if you forget it, i will fight you. i love you 😠😠😠😠 but once you catch on it's obviously got you giggling and blushing because it's such a jeongin thing to do and honestly how could you not fall for him when he's just awkwardly trying to confess how much he's in love with you
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tags : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)
©lixie-phoria, 2023
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ceilidho · 5 months
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 2. (read part 1 here) tags: dubcon
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There’s a photo of you taped up on the inside of his locker. 
The glimpse you catch of it is quick. Not like you aren’t meant to see it, but more like Johnny’s so unconcerned with whether you see it or not that he doesn’t bother to make a show of it. Just reaches into his locker to grab his lunch and shuts it while you’re still gaping at the polaroid of someone that looks suspiciously like you in your store uniform. You hear someone clear their throat and you glance up, flinching when you meet Johnny’s eyes.
“Missing me already?” he teases, winking. “I’ll be back on the floor as soon as possible. ‘Promise, hen.”
“It’s not—” 
He’s already out the door and on the way to the lunchroom before you’re able to get the rest of your sentence out. 
Johnny seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re about to spurn his advances. Any other day he would have stuck around to listen to the rest of your sentence, but when he has an inkling that those words will be tinged by the flavour of rejection, he’s quick to book it. You privately have to admit it’s not a terrible strategy. It’s not often that you’re able to get the words out. 
It’s one of those rare shifts where you’re clocking in later than Johnny, missing his lunch break. Small mercies. It doesn’t mean much because your schedules still overlap a significant amount, but it does mean that you won’t be forced to choke down your lunch while Johnny sits opposite you at the lunch table and stares you down the entire half hour. 
“Wait, that was so fucking cute,” someone says from behind you. You turn on your heel to find a coworker staring at Johnny’s locker, properly enchanted by whatever she saw. Practically swooning. 
“What is?”
“Didn’t you see the picture he has of you? In his locker?” She says it with emphasis, giving you a significant look. 
“Yeah…I…don’t you think it’s a bit…like, weird?” you ask her, making sure to keep your voice low in case Johnny is still around the corner. You can’t help the way you glance down the hallway.
She frowns. “It’s cute. He’s like, smitten with you. I’ve never seen him with a crush on anyone before and I’ve worked with him for over a year. I think it’s kind of nice. Do you not like him or something?”
“Well, I just…we aren’t even dating and I think…I think he even has a photo of me as his lock screen—”
“Because if you aren’t interested in him, you should let him down now. It’s not fair of you to just string him along, you know. He’s a really good guy.”
You’re not sure about the whole good guy thing. Johnny acts like a nice guy most of the time, but you’ve had the unfortunate luck in getting to experience the other side of him.
The problem lies in the fact that Johnny is, you think, a genuinely likeable guy to everyone else. It’s not like your coworkers are all collectively wrong in their opinion of him—he really is an excellent coworker. A good sport, a funny guy; he lends a hand whenever someone needs help. He helped Jeff move two weeks ago, drove Daryl to the airport last Saturday, and looked after Sonya’s cat while she was away on vacation that one time. 
It’s with you that his good-time nature evaporates; his lazy, drawled predilection for joking around and indulging himself and others in a good ribbing replaced by a weird, manufactured kindness. Almost sickly sweet. He lays it on so thick around others that they think you experience the same friendship with Johnny that the rest of them get to enjoy. 
Not so.
None of them catch the way he’s always hovering, always staring at you. Eyes half-lidded; bedroom eyes in the middle of your shift, in the middle of the workplace. 
None of your coworkers are around when you’re at the register one day and Johnny takes his break to make a couple purchases, coming to your cash with a basket full of chocolate, wine, condoms, body butter, and batteries. No one except him notices the way you pause at the last item.
“Dinnae ken if your vibrator was rechargeable or not,” he says when you look at him funny, a big grin stretched across his face. Blue eyes gleaming almost feverishly. “Thought I’d be prepared either way.”
You scan his items in silence. When you hand him his bag, you try not to shudder when he purposefully glances his hand over yours. 
Worse are the days when Johnny comes in as a customer, the days when he’s off the schedule. When he shouldn’t even be at the store at all. No one notices the way he pesters you the entire time he’s in the store, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. If a coworker does happen to notice his presence (and how could they not when he’s such a formidable presence in any room, when he almost glows from the energy stockpiled in his body with nowhere else to go), he’ll make polite conversation, just long enough to not seem rude, before shifting his attention back to you. 
His conversation borders on interrogation. He asks you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners. He makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed. 
When you rebuff him one too many times, he’s not shy about telling you off. 
“Ye just need a good fuck ta sort ye out,” Johnny snarls when you brush off another invite out to lunch one day. It’s not often that he loses his temper with you, so his anger makes your eyes widen, your pulse pick up. During morning shift assignments, he’d corralled your manager into pairing the two of you up on curbside pick-up orders, meaning that you’ve been stuck with him for hours, nowhere else to go. 
“Excuse me?” you say, voice going up a decibel. 
He leans across the front of the cart loaded with flowerpots and gardening tools. “I get it, hen. No one at home ta play with your pussy, huh? No choice but ta come into work all pent up and frustrated—”
“This is in like, the outer Hebrides of ‘none of your business’—”
“—clit’s probably all swollen too. Fuck.” He breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes darkening. “No wonder you’re always pissed off. I’d be too if I dinnae have a little replacement pussy at home.”
“You’re the reason I’m upset in the first place, Johnny.”
“Aw, I ken, bonnie,” he says with a pout, eyebrows slanting down like he really, truly pities you, the gesture immediately contradicted by his next words. “Promise I’ll make it better. Wanna meet outside my truck in a half hour?” 
You storm off before it comes to blows. Not that it’d ever be a fair fight. Johnny would probably hold you away with his palm against your head while you swung at him uselessly. You try not to think of that too often. Of him toying with you. Most of your interactions feel like that these days. Like he’s a big cat holding your tail down when you try to scramble away. 
When you beg your manager to switch shift assignments, the look you get could wilt flowers. It’s not completely your fault, even if your request is a bit inconveniencing. Johnny has your coworkers and management so wrapped around his finger that no one can even hazard a guess as to why you might be uncomfortable around him. 
It’s the only reason you haven’t complained to HR yet. There are channels and protocols for dealing with his behaviour, but watching people practically trip over themselves to please him reminds you that the likeliest outcome would be them transferring you to another store. It just doesn’t seem worth it.
You don’t think about how frazzled his words leave you for the rest of your shift. You don’t think about it because there’s nothing to think about. 
You know from the second that your manager reassigns you to women’s apparel that you’ve probably made a mistake. Customers buzz around you like gnats, like swarms of flies, and it’s only natural that you’d be compelled to swat a few. You hold on to the fraying edges of your patience with little finesse. About halfway through your shift, you get a stern talking to from your floor supervisor and put on an extra long break. You’re no less irritated when you get back though, somehow still agitated and snappy. 
Big hands clamp over your shoulders and squeeze like he’s giving you a massage, thumbs digging into the grooves of your upper back. He ignores the way you tense up.
“Hen, you’re making the customers uncomfortable with all your huffin’ and puffin’,” he whispers into your ear, a light chuckle falling out with his words. Amused by your attitude this time instead of ticked off. “If ye want, I could take ye ta the back room ta loosen ye up a bit. Make your day a little better. Dinnae think anybody will even notice if we dip away for a bit—’sides management will probably send me a gift basket if ye come back perky after a good shag.”
You shrug him off to go clock out, ignoring the way he chuckles as you storm off. No one knows if you go home and wear out the battery in your vibrator while thinking about Johnny’s words. Thinking about Johnny guiding you to his truck with a palm flat on your low back, pinkie teasing just under the waistband of your pants, before laying you out across the backseat and climbing on top of you.
You come when you think about how he’d have to keep the door open to fuck you in his car.
Unfortunately, you’re more than familiar with his sweet side as well. 
On your birthday, he comes in early with a sheet cake and organizes the employees so that the breakroom is dark when you come in. The entire staff is there when you switch on the lights, shouting your name and happy birthday, decked out in party hats and blowing into noisemakers.
It catches you off guard. Hits you right in the solar plexus and leaves you winded. You stand in the middle of the room like you’re under a spotlight and that spotlight is Johnny’s stare burning a hole in your head. For once, it doesn’t rankle. It leaves you feeling light, feathery, like floating down to earth. A coworker hands you a noisemaker and you smile until your eyes crinkle when you blow into it. 
You’re in a good enough mood that you don’t argue when he insists on sitting beside you. He got you the cake after all. Maybe it’s the least he deserves. Your goodwill lasts until Johnny tries to feed you a piece of cake with his fork; he winds up getting cake smushed all over your cheek when you turn your head away. 
“Johnny, ‘m not a baby,” you complain, wrinkling your nose when cake and icing slide down your face. “I can feed myself. This is so gross.”
“Shucks, hen, lemme get that. Shouldnae have turned your head,” Johnny curses, leaning over to scoop it off with his fingers. He holds them out to you, an offering. “Here ye go, kitty.”
You stare, horrified, until he shrugs like ‘suit yourself’ and pops them into his own mouth. Then drags the same spit covered fingers over your cheek again to keep cleaning you up. 
You can tell that it’s hopeless to complain by the way your coworkers giggle and gossip, eyes drawn to the two of you. Maybe it would be better if you were transferred. You only have so many ‘I’m not his work wife’s left in you. Something’s bound to give. You have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be you. 
On the walk to your car after your shift, which Johnny insists on doing like he does every time the two of you work a closing shift together, he jokingly asks if you’ve gotten your birthday spanks. He says it in that same awkward joking tone, just a bit too excited, staring at you too eagerly. Unblinking. Tuts his tongue when you tell him you’ve never heard of that before. 
You jolt and squeak at the pop on your ass when he insists on opening the door to your car and helping you in. The betrayed look you shoot him hardly penetrates through his shit-eating grin. 
“See ye tomorrow, kitty,” Johnny calls out, walking backwards away from you to where his truck is parked just a few spots away from yours. You think he would’ve parked right next to you if you hadn’t chosen a spot conveniently between two other cars. “More where that came from.”
Your hands shake against the steering wheel your whole drive home. Dreading tomorrow’s shift.
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