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whatsnewalycat · 2 months

Text

RUTHLESS

Stepdad Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 5.1k+

Warnings: DDDNE, literally just a fucked up stepdad/mom's bf fantasy, could read "mom" as tess but I don't name her or assign physical features to her or reader, post-outbreak, reader is def over 18 but not by much so yeah age gap, NON-CONSENSUAL, power imbalance, unethical d/s dynamic, slapping, spanking, punishment, orgasm delay/denial, humiliation, degradation, face fucking, anal sex, little to no aftercare

A/N: Category is "That old man would fucking never... but if he did..." Please be mindful of the warnings and don't read if it might trigger you. Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.

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Within the secluded world of your big noise-canceling headphones, you scan through silence on the CB radio, pausing for a few seconds on each channel before moving on to the next.

Channel 11: Nothing.

Channel 12: Zilch.

Channel 13: Nada.

When you turn the dial to channel 14, though, you pick up chatter and start transcribing.

Channel 14 7/17/22 19:56

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew? Over.

Got enough for the kids? Over.

And leftovers. Over.

I’ll be at Margie’s around supper time. Over and out.

The air goes silent.

After a minute goes by with no follow up transmissions, you glance at the clock. 7:58. Almost time for check-in.

You tune the radio to channel 32 and review your transcription.

Many people speak in code, encrypting their messages in seemingly benign conversations. To the untrained ear, they’re normal exchanges, people making small talk about jobs and rations and kids. Goodnight calls and check-ins that use predictable inquiries to convey messages.

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew?

Most of it you can translate from memory. The drug traffickers that use channel 14 have frequented the same lingo for years. Likely because of the high turnover rate of personnel. There’s less confusion that way. Confusion in communication raises more alarm bells for eavesdroppers than using the same code words across the board.

You flip through your cipher for channel 14, searching for budaydas, but find nothing. Scrunching your nose up, you say the word out loud, “Budaydas. Buh-day-das.”

Carrots, onions, budaydas in a stew.

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, then jot down your translation, muttering under your breath, “Fucking Boston accents.”

(Someone) picked up tranquilizers, benzos (budaydas = potatoes), and opioids. The caller wants to meet up and trade as previously agreed.

The rest of it is easy enough to interpret without the use of a cipher. You probably don’t need to write down the translation, but do it in case your mom or Joel need to reference the notes at a later date.

There’s enough to distribute product across their network of dealers in Boston QZ, plus more to stockpile. They’ll meet at their hub in Area 1, Margaret St, at midnight.

You exhale through slack lips, glancing at the clock as it ticks over to 8:00, then pick up the microphone and hold down the speak button.

“Radio check.”

A few seconds go by before you hear a familiar gruff voice crackle over the radio waves into your ears, “Loud and clear. Over.”

Your nostrils flare when you hear him. Joel Miller. The bane of your existence. Your de facto stepfather, only because you don’t really remember life without him by your mom’s side.

This isn’t to say he’s a father figure to you by any means. The two of you never shared the kind of heartwarming paternal bonding moments you read about in books. That would require warmth and vulnerability, which he distinctly lacks.

Once, when you were maybe 11 or 12, you made the mistake of calling him Dad. The way he looked at you made you feel like dirt. Fire burning behind his dark eyes, he corrected you with one stern syllable that taught you your place: “Joel.”

You sit up straighter and take a moment to gather yourself before responding.

“Did you get your message from Uncle Paul? Over.”

“I did. Over.”

“How’s the weather in Kansas City? Over.”

“Cloudy. Over.”

Fuck.

You swallow around nothing, then clear your throat and ask, “And Grandma, how’s she? Over.”

“Fine, just busy is all.”

You exhale a sigh of relief that melts the tension between your shoulders. Joel continues.

“Anything new with you? Over.”

Tapping your fingers on your notes, you answer, “Rumor has it the market is gonna be busy tomorrow. Harvesting time, I guess. Other than that, same old same old. What about you? Staying out of trouble? Over.”

It feels strange, having a casual conversation with him like this. Even if it’s just a data exchange dressed up as a casual conversation.

There’s a long pause, then he says, “Fine, yeah. Well. See you soon. Over ‘n’ out.”

Stiff as a board. Cold as ice. Joel Miller, everyone. Round of applause.

You snort, rolling your eyes as you unplug the headphones and toss them on the table. It takes a moment for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings.

The dingy two-bedroom apartment is quiet and still. Outside, the setting sun casts the world in a dark golden haze. A FEDRA patrol vehicle roars down the street, broadcasting the curfew alert from a loudspeaker. Faint shouting from a few units down momentarily piques your curiosity before you decide it’s none of your business.

You stand from the chair and reach your hands above your head, lungs expanding in a powerful yawn, then take a lap around the apartment to stretch your legs.

Something catches your eye when you walk by the entry. A note slipped under the doorframe. On the outer fold, your name is written in a familiar scrawl.

Your heart skips a beat.

You pick it up and unfold the paper, revealing an invitation.

I miss you. Come over when you’re done surfing the airwaves. XO, Bert.

Warmth trickles down between your thighs. A smile spreads across your face. You glance up at the door, then to the CB radio and scanner on the desk.

Indecision churns in your belly.

You are explicitly forbidden from leaving the apartment while your mom and Joel are out on runs. A safety precaution you’ve protested dozens of times to no avail. They expect you to stay put and warn them if you notice any signs of potential danger. In return, you receive a cut of the profit and a roof over your head. Security, in short. Which is more than most could say.

That being said… You break this rule from time to time, when the circumstances allow.

Like when the Fireflies and FEDRA have been quiet for weeks and there are no smoke signals in sight. Like when you’re five nights into a seven day seclusion and think you might die of boredom if you don’t get the fuck out of here. Like when your boyfriend slips a note under the door and asks you to come over.

You look down at the paper in your hands, re-reading the words I miss you.

Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen?

—

Just before midnight, you wander down the hallway to your unit, jelly knees wobbling with each step. As you absentmindedly trace your tingling lips, still puffy from kissing, you unlock the door and push it open, then frown.

The lights are on.

They were off when you left, you’re sure of it. When you step further into the apartment, your foot catches on something. A backpack. This faint buzzing starts behind your ears as you blink at it, wishing it would go away.

Motherfu—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when you hear his voice. A thick knot of panic tightens around your windpipe as you look up to find Joel standing just a few paces away in the living room.

He stares you down, dark eyes glowing with fury, and questions you again, “Where were you?”

“N-nowhere.”

The blatant lie sits sour on your tongue. His lips purse, so you fumble out another, “I went for a walk.”

“A walk,” he repeats, tone disbelieving, “You went on a walk after curfew wearing that?”

You look down at your clothing. A short skirt and tank top. Your throat bobs in a guilty gulp, then you meet his eyes again and nod.

“And when did you leave on this ‘walk?’”

Your mind whirs as you try to come up with an answer. It feels like a trap. You try to calculate an answer that will provide minimal blowback.

“I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes ago?”

“Try again.”

The electricity humming through you takes on a red, frustrated edge, and you snip, “I don’t fucking know, dude. It was a while ago, I wasn’t paying attention. Where’s my mom?”

“Your mom sent me here to make sure you were alive,” he says pointedly, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, “We’ve been tryin’a reach you for three hours. I got here an hour ago. That’s a helluva lot longer than twenty minutes, ain’t it?”

Shrinking into yourself, you search his face. Jaw set, eyes boring into yours. Waves of anger roll off him as he approaches, and you remember all those rumors you heard about him on the radio. The fear you heard in grown men’s voices when they recounted run-ins with that bitch and her guard dog.

You remember what Bert said about him: He’s fucking ruthless.

“You aren’t supposed to leave the apartment when we’re outside the QZ.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you?”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage.

Joel has never directed this kind of outright anger towards you. Sternness, sure. Contempt, maybe. But this is different. You’re in fucking trouble.

There has to be a way out of this conversation.

You drop your gaze to the floor and ask, “Is my mom ok? Did something happen to her?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Righteous indignation straightens your spine and wills you to meet his eyes again, “I’m not saying shit until you tell me what happened to her.”

“She sprained her ankle, but she’s fine. She’s safe,” he tells you, then takes another step forward, “Why did you leave?”

You respond by rolling your eyes.

“Answer the question.”

With an irritated sigh, you search his face, then tell him, “You don’t know what it’s like to be here. Isolated for days or weeks at a time. I fucking hate it. It’s so lonely and boring, I feel like I’m losing my mind—”

“Oh, cry me a goddamn river.”

You scowl at him, staring him down, “Fuck you.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, you disrespectful little shit.”

Red flashes through your field of vision, hot and angry and defiant. You gather the moisture in your mouth on your tongue and spit at him. It splats on his cheek.

His face twists up with fury for one second before he charges, closing the distance between you. The impact pushes your back to the door with a thud.

He grabs your jaw, fingers digging hard into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes are hot coals, burning into you. The muscles in his jaw twitch, nostrils flaring, breath shaky.

When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what it’s like out there.”

“No, because you won’t let me fucking leave—”

“You should be fucking grateful, you know that? Being here is a fucking cake walk. Your mom ‘n’ I have seen things, done things—horrible things you couldn’t even imagine,” he husks, searching your face, grip tightening so hard it makes you whine. “We keep you safe, and all we ask is that you stay put and keep a lookout for us when we’re gone.”

Even if you wanted to respond, you can’t. The vice grip he has on your face renders your mouth immobile.

All you can do is stare back at him, studying his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Full lips pinched thin as he glowers at you.

You notice how close his broad body is to yours. The heat radiating off his tightly-wound muscles onto your skin. His ragged breath scatters across your face and wafts into your open mouth. You taste the bootleg whiskey on his breath and your pulse jumps.

Warmth drips down your spine and pools at the center of you, a horrifying sensation that makes you squirm.

“Were you with your little boyfriend? Hmm?” he asks, eyes darting around your face, trailing down to your body for a moment before returning, “That boy downstairs? Figure you musta been, on account of how you’re dressed.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not really a question.

“Abandoning your post to go out and get fucked, is that it?”

A whimper slips from your throat as heat swells beneath your skin.

He wouldn’t be treating you like this if your mom was here. He wouldn’t say these things or be this close to you. Knowing this, you understand that whatever is happening right now is wrong.

You also understand that you like it.

You hate that you like it, and hate him for making you like it, but you like it all the same.

Letting go of your face, he demands, “Answer me.”

“Fuck you.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, you feel a sharp, hot sting on your cheek and yelp.

He fucking slapped you.

“Wrong answer.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you retort, bringing your hand to the welt forming on your cheek, “I’m gonna tell her.”

“Yeah? You gonna tell her I found you sneaking in at midnight, too? That you compromised our safety to go out ‘n’ get dicked down?”

You harden your gaze on him, lips pressing together with disdain.

“She wouldn’t like that, would she?” he asks, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “She’d probably kick you out on your ass.”

“She wouldn’t. You guys need me.”

“And you need us,” he counters, searching your face, “So what do we do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Hmm?”

A dozen inappropriate images flash through your head, each more lurid than the last. An electric, tingling feeling shoots out from the base of your spine and works through your extremities.

You swallow hard and shake your head, “I won’t do it again.”

“If I don’t punish you, you will. You’re fucking disrespectful. Selfish. You need discipline.”

Again, a flash of frustration taints the world red. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scoff, “Just because you’re fucking my mom doesn’t mean you’re my dad. I am an adult and you are not the boss of me.”

He sighs and takes a step back, planting his hands on his hips. His gaze drifts around the empty apartment, jaw gnashing back and forth for a moment before he returns to twist the deadbolt closed and grab your arm.

“What the f—” you swat at him and dig your heels into the floor, but it does nothing as he drags you by his steel grip, pulling you stumbling along behind him into the living room.

He sits on the couch and forces you to lay over his bent knees, one big hand securing your wrists behind your back while the other flattens against the swell of your ass cheek. As soon his touch leaves, it returns, a sharp snap tingling across your skin.

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe the chaos throbbing through you.

“You’re right, you’re an adult. And I’m not your dad,” he asserts, lifting his hand. Your whole body clenches in anticipation. “But as long as you live here, I am the fucking boss of you,” he slaps your ass again, “Do you understand me?”

It surprises you when you hear yourself sob, “I’m sorry—”

He does it again and again, hissing, “Yeah, you’re fucking sorry now, aren’t you?”

Each firm slap he lays down is firm, unflinching. Ruthless.

It overwhelms your senses and becomes the only thing you feel. The universe world narrows down to just his palm on your skin. The reliable and exquisite pain ringing through you. Smack. Smack. Smack.

Every time he draws his hand back, you don’t think you can handle it again. But you do.

Soon, you start to crave the impact. His skin on your skin. You can’t feel the start or end of it. It’s just him and you. Pain and pleasure. Sobs and moans, all blended together.

Far away, you hear him chide you for not wearing underwear beneath your skirt. Then he asks, “Are you fucking enjoying this?”

Too ashamed to admit it, all you do is whimper in response.

Smack.

He sucks in breath through his teeth, then grabs the meat of your ass and rumbles, “You do, don’t you?”

When his grasp on your wrists releases, you pull your elbows beneath you and look over your shoulder at him, watching as he spreads your cheeks apart and stares down between your legs. You’re probably shiny and wet with the evidence of your desire.

His lips form an ‘o’ when he kneads you back together and spreads you apart again. The motion teases all your hungry nerves and makes you moan. It feels so fucking good.

You realize then that he’s grown stiff against your belly, hard cock leaving no mistake.

“You fucking like it, too, don’t you?” you ask him, your voice breathy and amused, “I can feel how turned on you are.”

Slipping a hand between your bodies, you press against his strained zipper. His cock jumps at the contact, and he groans, dragging his fingers through your slick lips.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you nod in approval. He works your clit in steady, firm circles while you smooth your hand along the big bulge in his pants, letting out a string of whines at the bubbling pleasure inside you.

You lose yourselves here, both of you squirming and panting and petting the other. So wrapped up with how fucking good it feels that you forget to feel ashamed.

When he smacks your ass now, you croak through clenched teeth, “Fuck yes.”

He likes that you like it. You can tell by the way he groans and throbs beneath you. This knowledge inspires your pulse to pound and your muscles to tense.

“Joel,“ you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his heavy-lidded gaze, “I’m gonna fucking come, don’t stop—”

“Did I give you permission to do that?” he asks, slowing his touch to a torturous rhythm, “Did I say you could come?”

You shake your head and whine, “Please, Joel, please—”

“Are you sorry for what you did?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“No no no, I won’t, I promise, I’ll be a good girl—”

He groans, tossing his head back as you frantically rub at the bulge in his pants. Your palm chafes against the stiff denim, but you don’t stop. You would do this for eternity if it meant he’d let you find your release.

“Oh yeah, you’ll be a good fucking girl for me?” he asks, touching you just soft and slow enough to twist your nerves ragged, but keep your orgasm out of reach.

“I will, I promise. Please, Joel,” you whisper, holding his gaze as your face gets all hot, “Please make me come, please please—”

“Show me you mean it.”

He doesn’t need to explain what he means. While he takes off his jeans, you scramble off his lap and kneel between his spread knees. His eyes stay glued to yours as you slide your hands up his thighs.

Batting your lashes at him, you wrap your lips around his swollen cock. He fills your mouth. He feels smooth but hard against your tongue. He tastes salty and heady and when you inhale the musk of him, you moan around his girth.

Nodding, he anchors his grip behind your head and bucks his hips, forcing his dick down your throat. When you gag, he doesn’t let up, but thrusts into the sensation, grunting, “Fuck. Yes,” before letting you pull off, gasping for air.

You wrap your hands around him, all shiny and slick with drool, and pump his length for a moment while you catch your breath, then take him in your mouth again.

This time, you sit up taller. You relish the stretch of your lips as you bob up and down. Savor the tug of his fingers curled tight in your hair. Memorize the sound of his huffs and grunts as he fucks your face. The wet squelching gurgle of his cock squeezing down your windpipe.

“Look at me,” he orders, so you do.

He’s all blurred from your watering eyes, but you can make out the dark irises and stay locked onto them while relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him easier. When you make an enthusiastic humming noise, he groans. It’s wanton and lusty and lights a fire in your belly.

Joel has never treated you this hard or soft. His regard for you has always been callous. Closed-off. Indifferent. With your assistance on the radio, he treated you like a tool for survival. Before that, or even in-between smuggling runs, he treated you like some kind of a household pet he had little regard for. Your mom’s responsibility, never his.

For years and years, you ached for more.

When you were younger, you used to sit up nights and wonder if he’d ever consider you his daughter. He wouldn’t, though. He won’t.

But this is something.

Distinctly, you want to please him. Be the best he ever had. You want to sink your claws into his brain and leave your mark for years to come. You want him to look at you after this and feel a flicker of desire and self-loathing. You want him to think of you when he fucks your mom. You want him to hate how you made him feel.

When you pull off him and start to work his soaked length with your hands, you pant, “Does that feel good? Am I doing a good job sucking your cock?”

“It’s good,” he nods, lets out a groan that pinches his eyes shut, then meets your gaze again, “So fucking good, Jesus Christ. Is this what you were out doing tonight? Sucking cock?”

“Not tonight.”

“But he fucked you, didn’t he? That boy?”

You nod, stroking him slower. His eyelids flutter.

“Did he fuck your pussy or your ass?”

The question sends a jolt through your middle. You recall the sex you had with Bert. Barely an hour has gone by since he pulled out of your cunt to shoot his load on the mattress, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

“My pussy,” you answer, then gather a thick, hot wad of saliva on your tongue and spit on his cock. You spread it with a slow churning motion, watching Joel’s face twist up with pleasure.

“Were you bein’ smart about it at least?” he asks, studying you, “We don’t need you getting knocked up.”

“He pulled out,” you shrug.

He grunts in acknowledgment, then sits up and pulls on your arm to join him on the couch, “C’mere.”

You follow his guidance, lying back on the cushions as he strips off his shirt.

The only times you’ve seen him shirtless were accidental and slightly embarrassing for both of you. But now, you notice how his smooth chest glows in the dim light. Now, when you drink in the sight of his big arms and broad shoulders, heat bubbles up your spine.

While you pull your tank top off over your head, he tugs your skirt down your thighs, asking, “You ever taken it up the ass?”

You shake your head.

His eyebrows jump a little like he’s surprised. A sadistic kind of smirk plays across his lips as he pushes your knees up to your chest, then spreads you apart, the head of him nudging at your backdoor.

He doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t ask if you want it this way, or if you want him to be the first. He doesn’t even warn you about the initial shock and pain you experience when he rocks his hips forward and breaches the tight hole.

You yelp and try to lurch away from the sharp pain, but he grabs you and holds you there.

Sitting up on your elbows, you cry, “That fucking hurts, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if it didn’t hurt a little, would it?” he murmurs, disinterested, watching your asshole stretch to accommodate the head of his cock.

The sensation is overwhelming. Like being stabbed or split open. At first, you hate it. You sputter and gasp and shake your head as he pushes himself in further and further.

Then he pauses the invasion, releasing his steel grip on you to tilt your chin up and meet his gaze, “Just relax.”

His eyes burn into yours, making your pulse jump. You bear witness to his heaving chest and parted lips and feel him twitch inside you. Sparks sizzle across your body, but you still scowl at him.

“It hurts, I don’t like it.“

“It’ll get better, you just gotta relax,” he coaches.

“Why can’t we just have normal sex?”

He grunts, thinks about it for a moment, then tells you, “First off, this is not normal sex,” he points between your chest and his, “This will not be a normal thing, you understand?”

It stings a little, if you’re being honest. But you nod, “I understand.”

Nodding, he licks his lips. He throbs inside you, hips jerking a little in reaction. This time, the friction feels good enough to make you whimper.

“Second, we don’t need another mouth to feed around here,” he says, searching your face, “We’re stretched thin enough as is. You know what I mean?”

“But if you—”

“Pulling out can still stick. This way’s tried and true, trust me.”

“Trust you,” you scoff under your breath and roll your eyes.

“What’s that?”

You meet his hardened gaze, feeling emboldened enough to ask, “Do you fuck my mom in the ass?”

“That’s none of your business,” he warns.

“So, what, you can interrogate me about my sex life, but I can’t do the same?”

“That’s right,” he barks, “Know why?”

In response, you glare at him.

He takes this moment of bitter silence to drag his knuckles up your slick, swollen lips. The light touch branches out beneath your skin and makes your heart pound. You gasp a little, but try to hide it. He clocks it immediately.

“There we go,” he murmurs under his breath, almost as an aside, smoothing the pad of his thumb in soft circles on your clit. Pleasure churns beneath the touch, hot and hungry for more. When you whimper, Joel’s eyes go wild for a second, then he says, “I am the fucking boss of you, understand?”

You swallow a moan as he arches forward and starts to roll his hips. It feels better now. Good. Fucking amazing, almost. Electric and gooey. He fills you so completely with each thrust, you wonder how you can even breathe.

“So if I tell you to be home, that’s where you’ll be. If I ask you where you’ve been, who you were with, what you were doing—you tell me the truth. Understand?”

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand.”

“You don’t get to ask me about your mom. You don’t tell your mom. You don’t sneak out to go get fucked by some boy who doesn’t even know what to do with you—”

“Holy shit, Joel I’m gonna—” you gasp at the pressure building at the base of your spine, spreading thick and hot and delicious across your body.

“And you don’t come without my fucking permission. Understand?”

“I understand I understand,” you cry, literal tears burning behind your eyes at the ache of trying to keep the ecstasy at bay, “Please can I come, please please please—”

“Are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again—”

“That’s right, you’ll never fucking do it again. Why’s that?”

“You’re the boss,” you beg, your voice so raw and pleading it sounds foreign. He pounds into you now, a wet slap that echoes off the apartment walls. It takes all your concentration to keep your pleasure contained, to not spill over the edges, but you hear yourself babble somewhere far away.

“You’re the fucking boss. I’m sorry I’m sorry I won’t disobey you again I’ll be a good girl I’ll do anything just please give me permission to come daddy please please please—”

When he moans, loud and depraved, it just about breaks you, but you manage to keep your resolve long enough for him to pant, “Go ahead, let it go.”

With a choked sob, you untether your pleasure and allow it to expand, growing hot and wide and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Every muscle in your body tenses up as the sensation swallows you whole, then spits you back up, sending wave after wave across your body.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he grunts, taking his hand from your clit to hold your knees down and fuck your ass hard and fast and ruthless.

It surprises you when heat starts stretching out from the middle of you again. Your heart starts to race as the feeling grows.

“Ffffuuuuck,” you whimper, “That feels so fucking good—”

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“You did you did holy shit,” you meet his eyes and nod frantically, “I love it I love it—please can you come in my ass?”

“Is that what you want? Want me to come in your tight little asshole?”

A feral noise escapes you, and you sob, “Yes—”

“Do you wanna come too?”

“Yes—oh my god, yes, please please please daddy—”

“Come with me, baby.”

You let the feeling overtake you again, gasping out, “thank you thank you thank you,” as it takes you strong and fast. Pleasure pulses through your body, causing you to convulse and strain against Joel’s grip spreading you open. He releases a moan from his belly and gives you a hard, deep thrust that he holds for a shuddering moment. After emptying himself inside you, he pulls out, falling back to his seat on the couch.

Chest heaving, you prop yourself up on your elbows and study him. He pinches his eyes shut and catches his breath before meeting your gaze again.

His expression goes soft long enough for something dangerous to flicker between you.

Then he turns away and starts getting dressed.

“Get yourself together, I’m gonna go get your mom.”

As you sit up, you fold your legs into your body and watch him button his shirt.

“Joel—”

He looks at you, searching your face expectantly, but your brain goes static and you’re not even sure what you were going to say.

“This stays between us, understand?”

His tone is firm but gentle. You swallow hard and nod, “I understand.”

Nodding, he glances down at your lips, then back to your eyes. He rises to his feet to leave, but before he does, he leans down to press a kiss into your forehead.

“Good girl.”

[ NEXT PART ]

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twstedstoryshop · 2 months

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FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him.

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

#scrawlingquill #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt x reader #floyd leech x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland y/n #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twsited wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland reader insert #long post #long reads

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knuckleblaster · 4 months

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On some level I understand the rejection or outright denial of V2's death: it was jarring and brutal, especially for a character who, at least in laws of traditional video game rivals and the rule of thirds, seemed like it'd stick around for longer. This said, inferring from in-game lore as well as dev statements, I believe V2's death, tragic that it is, is not unwarranted; and that it is commonly pigeonholed into a characterization it does not fit into due to its assumed role within the game.

This is long, so it's going under the cut.

Considering its name, it's easy to assume V2 is a new and improved version of its predecessor; but it is more heavily implied that it's simply a version of V1 with thicker plating, and nothing more. [1] V2 was an attempt at salvaging V1's design after war became irrelevant, to capitalize on the resources wasted on a highly advanced war machine by rebranding it as an adaptable worker, for security and (theoretically) other peacetime activities (...not an innuendo). This was a failure; there's no reason to invest in something so refined when a handful of lesser machines could do the same job [2].

If V2 is contextualized within its backstory, it makes a lot more sense why it ate shit so quickly. It is, out of any in-game machine so far, one of the least suited for survival in Hell. Sentries and Streetcleaners were created for war. Swordsmachine(s) and Mindflayers are scrapheads, constantly adapting to create (and protect) their perfect, lethal body. [3] If anything, it's on the same level as a Drone, able to defend itself in a limited capacity, but not intentionally programmed or built for combat. Faced with V1, something built for perfect, swift destruction, a machine made for peace would stand even less of a chance than normal, even with an equal level of mobility and build.

V2 is also doomed, in a very literal sense, by the narrative. In a meta sense, it does not matter to the game story whatsoever [4]. V1 is the butterfly whose wing flaps set Gabriel's story in motion, but V2 has no such connection to his story, and is thus irrelevant. Even its lore entry is overshadowed by information about V1/its connection to V1. A third fight, as well, was never in the running, not necessarily due to anything in the game lore, but because its first and second encounters are all it needs: a third rematch would be repetitive and messy [5]. The reason for its extremely violent death sequence is to ensure there was no question as to its fate [6].

In regards to its personality; it is oft-headcanoned as loud, irritable, and competitive, but this characterization is more likely due to its color as well as its assumed role as a "rival" to V1; rather than based upon its in-game actions. Although its initial intentions are up to interpretation [7], comparing its actions and mechanics to other enemies fully rationalizes its anger. Although it's fairly easy to enrage in-fight, the criteria for its enrage state is much more specific than other enemies, and it's quite easy to not trigger it at all. Cerberi will enrage after one of its kind dies, Malicious Faces and Mindflayers after a certain amount of damage has been dealt (on Violent). Most notably, as the only other character with a rematch, Gabriel begins his second fight enraged after his first defeat [3], which can imply by extension that even though V2 is taking its second fight more seriously [8], it is still not outwardly angry. Its enrage state is only triggered when its patience is depleted (the player avoids it for too long), or in its second fight when it has been punched with the Knuckleblaster. These can be interpreted as indicators that V2 likes it when the fight is "fair": when it's not being avoided and picked at from a distance, or being hit with its own arm; which is frankly pretty fucking mean. A side note: Returning to its creation, it can also potentially be inferred that V2 was intentionally programmed with a rational, controlled, and even marketable personality, easily suppressed or overwritten for ease of use.

In another game, or if V1 was the protagonist, perhaps V2 would not be dead. Instead, V2 is doomed by its creators, both in-game and in reality. It mirrors V1 in action and Gabriel in mind, but unlike them, it has no place in this story beyond a truly fantastic duo of fights. Although its story has any number of potential rewritings or epilogues [9], its doom was always intended. It's easy to mourn lost potential, and its end is intensely tragic; but I believe it is a tragedy that meshes nicely with the rest of the game's story. V2 is dead, and not a second too soon.

Footnotes:

Along with the lore entry for V2:

V1’s planned production was cancelled and an updated model, V2, was developed instead, using the standardized plating, since durability was far more important during times of peace when no bloodshed was necessary.

twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538313328715513857

3. in-game lore entries, can be read on ultrakill.miraheze.org or here in one document: steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2245904838

twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538336055681863680

6. "And then V2 dies as hard as anyone could possibly die to make sure people understand he's fucking dead and is not coming back" - dev commentary, 05:08:09 (youtu.be/kaImho5JioI?si=v4_m90nfLOY-DyEZ&t=18489)

9. Notably, Dream's End Come True / v2isdead.com.

#ULTRAKILL #V2 #meta #id in alt #finally fleshed this out. V2 death manifesto with bonus personality critique!

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stagefoureddiediaz · 20 days

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Costume Meta 7x04

How we all doing?? have we managed to find some semblance of equilibrium in this new world where we have canon bi buck?? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how to exist in this world but that’s fine with me! I’m still here writing my silly costume metas and having a blast in this bright new world!

No Hen this week as we never see her out of uniform!

The rest is below the cut because you would all hate me if i clogged your feeds with this beast (shes 7k)- you have been warned!!

Actually going to start this week with a uniform out of work section!

Because three times in this episode, we had one of the firefam wearing an element of their uniform out of work and its actually pretty key!

We have Bobby in his LAFD polo when he informs Athena that Harry is wanted for assault and he fled the state.

Then we have Chim at the basketball game in his LAFD hoodie

And finally Buck at the airfield on his tour with Tommy.

All three are playing into the idea of protecting ones self by being in an official capacity in some way. Firefighters (like all first responders) are of course there to 'protect and serve' the community.

Bobby delivers the news to Athena about Harry - he's in uniform because he can inhabit a small aspect of his captain mentality - makes it easier to deliver the news and also gives him the distance to play the 'don't shoot the messenger' card if necessary.

Chimney has to step into paramedic mode at the end of the scene. The LAFD hoodie separates him from everyone else at the court and foreshadows that he will have to 'go to work' its also about chimney being there as the colleague not the almost brother in-law of Buck. An important distinction - it protects Chim from being seen to favour anyone (specifically from Buck. (Buck is angry and not being rational so Chimney has protection from Bucks potential anger for helping Eddie - Buck is already feeling awful by that point so the protection isn't needed but it provides cover if it were) and allows him to go into first responder mode. (this is so badly worded but I'm sure you get what I mean!!)

Buck is at the airfield under the guise of wanting to find out more about becoming an air support firefighter - its the cover under which he is operating to try and befriend Tommy. The jacket also provides him protection from Eddie when he shows up and finds out Buck is not coming to Vegas with him and Tommy.

Bobby

Just the one costume for Bobby this week - a maroon tee that her's wearing to sleep in. we see him in this colour a lot - its a bit of a staple colour for him and I've spoken a lot about maroon tees and shirts representing parental roles in relation to the various children of the 118. Its no different here -we can see from Bobbys face he isn't buying what Harry is saying and the parental concern we see evidenced here plays out with him calling Michael and finding out what is really going on.

Athena

Athena wears a lot of black this week, which is fairly typical from her, although we are in a much more overall muted palette than usual and its missing the jewel tones we're used to seeing her increasingly wear. its a bit of a signal of returning to normality now they're back from the cruise disaster.

She starts off in black and pink pyjamas but I'm going to talk about those at the end in the pink section so we're skipping ahead to this ruffle smocked cream blouse and her gorgons head necklace is back. the ruffling is an nod to her feathers being ruffled when Bobby tells her about Harry and his arrest warrant, and the white with the black trousers is about things being black and white - for Athena as a cop things do tend to be black and white when it comes to the law - of course Athena has always been one to work within the law to bend the rules but in this moment things are black and white.

Then we have her all in black with a red longline cardigan which has a open weave that give the appearance of mesh or a cage. The show has been using Red since day one which makes sense as it is a first responder show and you literally cannot escape it when the fire trucks are red! But they have always been pretty careful about when they use bright red in the costuming meaning its appearance with such regularity this season so far is pretty telling. Its an advance warning of incoming danger/trouble/strife, but it is rarely worn by the one who is directly in danger - they will be involved, but not the centre of it. The best example of this is Bucks bright red broadcloth shirt when Christopher calls him because Eddie is smashing up his bedroom.

Here we have it on Athena in the scene when things are about to properly kick into action with Harrys story. Athena is literally a red net about to ensnare Harry. its the one time in this episode we see Athena in a bold bright colour - something that generally is attached to her being happy or having fun, but not here.

The denim sleeveless shirt/jacket when Athena goes to the hospital to visit the lady who shot her son (does she have a name - I cant remember!) and later to talk to Harry about the reality of his altercation, is quite bulky and blocky. It's far less fitted, structured or flowy that we are used to seeing on Athena. To me this is about playing into her struggles to tread the line between mother and cop - that neither role fits right. That denim is also a fabric associated with labour, it suggests Athena is working hard to figure it out.

Then we get this all black outfit when she takes Harry to the station - it is such a simple yet effective bit of costuming, especially with the silver zips and buckles- it blends her in with the police officers in the station so she can hover the line between mom and cop - and makes it look like an arresting officer bringing in a suspect.

Harry

New Harry comes with a new style!!

I actually can't wait to see how they dress him over the rest of the season because there was a definite colour theme at play here this week with all the beiges, greens and redish browns which is very not how younger Harry dressed (he was much more bright colours).

Not going to lie - my hatred for the copaganda and the fact I've been in Bi Buck land since the episode aired has made it hard to focus on Harrys outfits in greater detail, but I do have a few thoughts!

This first shirt is a map print, maps denote journey's andHarry is on a literal and metophorical journey - the literal being the one he made form Florida to LA. The metaphorical one is all about his journey to become a man, and learning to take responsibility for his actions, so this shirt is essentially setting out his arc for the season - Makes me feel like the storylines with harry we're going to see are going to be about the community service he has to undertake and him figuring things out and growing up a bit in relation to that.

Then next up we have this cream hoodie with an brownish beige pocket. the thing I found interesting about this choice was the fact that Harry played himself off as innocent. lawyers usually instruct their clients to wear white shirts to court, and to avoid loud patterns. The white is because i suggests purity or innocence, and the loud patterns should be avoided because it suggests you're trying to employ subterfuge (that you're lying). So Harry wearing a block of cream is a play on this idea. We see him in the map shirt before - when he is employing subterfuge about his reasons for visiting, and now this cream is him trying to suggest his innocence to his mother - the use of cream rather than white is telling us that he isn't as innocent as he is making out!

Finally we have check theory (my most beloved) in play. harry returns to wearing patterns - this one check and in greens and browns. there is an element of military to the green shades, its a coloour we've seen used on Eddie to show his military background, but it is also a colour frequently worn by Athena - usually when she is fighting for her family in some way. Here it feels like a refelction of that, with the added aspect of green being a colour of growth. Harry shows contrition and is willing to take his punishement, showing his growth, but also showing his understanding of fighting for his family - and Athenas willingness to do the same. its showing us tht he is his mothers son. And of course the check is the pointer towards the fact he is in trouble - that his earlier protestations of innocence were false!

Then we move on the he Buckley-Hans

Chimney

Only the one for Chimney this week, it's a very short scene where he is completely oblivious to the tone of the conversation. He's dressed completely in greys and is by all accounts neutrally costumed. this is intentional - he's not the focus of this scene and when we think that so much of this episode is shown from Bucks pov, the use of neutral grey makes sense - Buck is projecting on to chimney in this scene. Buck himself is speaking his jealousy and fear, while what Chimney says is actually the little voice inside his head that isn't in fact jealous of Tommy, but is impressed by him

Maddie

Again only two costumes for Maddie this week and one of them is her dispatch outfit, but I'm including it because of its place with a mini colour theme for this episode, which both of her outfits play into.

I spoke about the use of red in Athenas section and its representing danger, and it is in play for both of Maddie's outfits, the wearer changes though. In the first scene, Maddie is in blue - dark blue. a tee with 'The Great School' and bobcat logo on the front. I love this, the bobcat is a symbol of inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity, while Maddie is a great source of learning for Buck - he essentially raised him and has been a sounding board for him since she returned to his life. Maddie is the next level wise older sister, her point of view is important to Buck and is grounding for him. She had got him to back down from his spiral over Eddie and Chris, until Chimney came in (and like I said above, that was Bucks inner voice, not really Chimney)

Then we have her dispatch uniform and its red. This is a clever play actually, it allows the costume team to put Maddie into red, a colour we don't really see on her outside of work (a deliberate choice as it helps distinguish work from non work to the audience). Just like Buck was the angry one in the other Buckley siblings scene, her Maddie is the one who is angry (with good reason) and we again get Buck recieving education at he hands of Maddie - in her place of work where she is a lifeline to people and where she holds authority. Buck needed her in a lifeline capacity in this moment and he got it, despite her anger. She gave him the advice and help he needed.

Eddie

Eddie my man looking suave and confident - this Eddie is Bucks version of Eddie so of course he looks cool, well dressed and in a green and black combo. In nearly every scene where Eddie nad Buck have a deep meaningful conversation - one that gets through to Buck on a higher level - that works on Bucks abandonment complex, Eddie is dressed in a black shirt and khaki green trousers (the only exception is the will reveal when he's in navy blue but that is to play in the yellow blue colour theming and its a close to black as they could have a blue!), this outfit is an inverse though, which is actually really clever. Eddie (Bucks version) here is playing into Bucks fear of abandonment - Bucks version of Eddie has spent so long building him up and chipping away at that fear that to invert that colour theme and have green on top and black trousers is a fun way of inverting that chipping away at Bucks fear - this is putting another brick in that abandonment wall

The black tank top!! Its back and everybody cheered! Ok so I wrote this meta about when the show puts Eddie into a black tank top and how it means he's in an emotionally vulnerable place and once more, the theory plays out. Obviously Eddie gets physically injured, but his face when he looks at Buck after he's gone down shows him emotionally vulnerable. Yes there is a little bit of anger and a lot of pain in the look he gives him, but there is also understanding and a little guilt too.

It's the moment Eddie realises that he has unintentionally sidelined his best friend, and the effect that has had on Buck and his abandonment issues. This is Eddie showing his truly deep understanding of Buck and how Buck ticks (and because this is also from Bucks pov, its also showing us Buck understanding that Eddie understands how Buck ticks) we get all of this proven when Tommy comes over to Bucks later and clearly states that Eddie is feeling bad about the whole situation.

It is also worth noting that When Buck has seen Eddie at the gym or being sporty in some way Eddie has either been in uniform or in a black singlet and that he always looks super competent (even if he is working through things when he is in the black singlet). From my perspective, this is an interesting choice to play into because it suggests Buck recognises Eddies emotional maturity over him, even when he's not in a great place (we can discount fight club Eddie becasue Buck didn't actually see him there), its clearly something Buck admires and places as central to how he sees Eddie.

Tommy

Tommys costuming is chefs kiss perfection to me. The wardrobe department have literally dressed him as Eddie and I am living for it.

Its a way to emphasise that Tommy and Eddie are super similar. this serves two purposes - it builds a visual connection for the audience - we don't need to be shown Tommy in the army or fighting/ training in Muay Thai etc, we can mentally make a connection to the ones we've seen of Eddies in the past and accept the information as fact. obviously not all people who join the army or undertake MMA are going to dress the same, but this is television where visual information is valuable real estate, so playing into tropes and stereotypes is a key piece of arsenal.

The other thing about it is the specific Eddies its calling back to - fight club Eddie and to a lesser extent, post breakdown Eddie when he's back in therapy and unrepressing himself.

Tommys basketball outfit is really about making him stand out from everyone else - it makes him seem to appear more because the blue shorts and the light coloured top will catch your eye, even if he's not the focus of the camera at that moment. This is all about the fact that this is Bucks perspective on things - he is seeing Tommy everywhere and feeling like he's taking over/ taking away Eddie and so we the audience feel that same thing in a visual way. The thing the blue shorts do is visually connect Tommy to buck in the next scene we see Buck in - when he is talking to Maddie at dispatch - the blues are similar enough for us to subconsciously connect back to that scene and link Buck and Tommy together rather than Buck to Eddie - who Buck is dressed more similarly too in the basketball scene.

It doesn't hurt that the blue shorts also play into yellow blue theory - especially against the sunsets yellow hues in a scene that is playing homage to a famously queer coded scene from Top gun.

Then there is this outfit from Bucks loft. again is very similar to an Eddie outfit - its the same style of shirt we often see Eddie wearing especially in seasons 4 and 5.

Tommys jeans have always been reminiscent of Eddies Jeans (I mean I know they are jeans, but I promise the significance will become clear when I get to Buck!)

Even Tommys watch is similar to Eddies Christopher watch (every other watch in the show worn by the men is all black - black strap black face and mount only the Christopher watch is different) in that it has a different coloured strap to the watch face and its mount.

The other thing I want to mention quick, is the progression of Tommys costumes in relation to them being similar to Eddies. By this I mean the first non uniform costume we see Tommy in is very stage 2 Eddie, while the one below is very much more stage 3 Eddie.

I also really like the use of a purple/red/black shot tee for this scene as well. If you watch the scene through, the way its lit changes its colour as different sections of the scene unfold. The red tones are there early on, during the apology and conversation around Eddie being allowed to have more than one friend and Christophers adoration of Buck. it gives it that air of danger lurking, because Tommy isn't sure how things are going to play out. and plays into the red/blue theme we saw with Buck and Maddie in this episode - just on a much lower level.

Then it turns this purplish shade as we move into the initial stages of flirting - from the moment Buck moves around the counter to put himself in the same space as Tommy. It gives things an air of mystery, but purple can also be a colour of enlightenment - both elements are in play here and I love they were able to do this with this shirt.

The shirt turns black at the moment Tommy says 'my attention' - the moment he essentially hold all the cards on making a move - he is the one with the power here (as the already queer person in the room) and black is a power colour, so its the perfect choice for the moment he makes his move.

Buck

Buck my beloved bi disaster. His costumes were doing some pretty impressive storytelling this episode!

We start off at the air field - I spoke at the start about this LAFD jacket and the theme of protection, but I also have other things to say about it and the rest of the costume. We don't generally see Buck out of work wearing uniform (we actually don't see many of the firefam in uniform out of work tbh) so when we do its going to have meaning. T

he thing with the bomber jacket being the choice (they could've made it a hoodie which we've seen him wear out of work more!) is that on one level plays into its name and the fact that its being worn at an airfield, while on another level it low key plays into the Buck cheating arc. which is actually fun - the idea that he's 'cheating' on the 118 by claiming he's thinking about his career options and also cheating on Eddie by trying to befriend Tommy (because at this point that is all it is its only once Eddie appears that things change).

The trousers are also important. I know I've said before about how trousers are less important than tops because they are less likely to get screen time. We not here - here they are really important, but only with the context of the rest of the episode.

These are the short in the leg dark trousers we've come to know and love on Buck - he's been solidly wearing them since season 2 and what we have seen him wearing so far in season 7 so no surprises to see them here. But this is the last time we see them and its super important and telling.

We also have Bucks white trainers - the ones that he wears when he moves forward on his journey - we see him in them the entire time this episode.

Buck and Maddie this episode have a red v blue thing going on in their scenes together. In this one Buck is in red and Maddie in blue. I spoke about the red for danger theme they seem to be using this season for the red clothes above in Athenas section and it applies here - Buck in red is foreshadowing the danger/strife that the basketball game presents as that is what he is talking about and what he is most upset about over Tommy and Eddies friendship.

It's a slightly burnt out red in comparison to Bobbys red shirt from the cruise, Athenas red cardigan, or even the red he wore when Eddie had his breakdown. Its not a full high alert colour, its a more muted and restrained colour - suggesting the danger is going to be less of a big thing, that it's just a part of it rather than the main big thing

We can also see that Buck is now wearing more traditional stonewash jeans - this is the first time we're seeing them on him since Eddies arrival at the fire house. I'll explain them in more detail in Bucks last outfit of the episode, but I needed to point their presence out here.

Basketball Buck in his white shirt and dark blue marl cut off tee - its very Buck posturing at the firehouse gym and its meant to be. Its a direct reference to the last time Buck showed any jealousy towards Eddie. The shorts are different this time in that they're white/light grey rather than black, but I think this is done for two reasons - it creates a pairing with Eddie - they are dressed similarly with dark tops and lighter grey shorts, but on opposite teams/sides.

It also makes him stand out from everyone else at the game - excepting Tommy (and a random guy in a red top with white shorts that I'm living for. When Red = foreshadowing as I've talked about above, this guys actions on the court are precursors of what is about to happen - we see him bump into Tommy - a couple of moments later and Buck does the same thing, then just before Eddie gets taken out by Buck, he gets breezed past by Eddie stumbles and starts limping. Its fun and clever and not something many people will pick up on - its a bit like the role of the bullet in Hamilton!)

Bucks bright blue chunky corduroy shirt with white tee underneath. I already spoke about the visual connection between Tommy from the basketball game and this shirt. It also fits into the red and blue theme I spoke about above - this time Buck is the one in blue and with the combination of Buck in his danger incoming white shirt and Maddie being in red it signals exactly what this scene is going to be about.

The danger, in my opinion, is Maddies wrath at Buck getting physical with Eddie. Its a perfectly valid and important response from her and plays into the growth we get from Buck in this episode that is not connected to his bi awakening - the recognition and acceptance of his bad behaviour in a far more mature way than we saw from s3 Buck.

The chunky corduroy give the shirt vertical stripes and we all know how I feel about Buck and vertical stripes at this point - I wrote about them a lot in my seasons 5 and 6 metas and the blue and white nature of bucks outfit plays into the theming that was at play in early season 6 - where Buck was free from Taylor and resisting buying a couch because he was looking for the right couch etc. (and playing house husband to Eddie nad feeding them!!!)

Here in this episode we kind of have Buck going through a similar process - free from the shackles of death and trying to figure things out - who he is and what he wants, he's still on that hamster wheel in many ways at this point in the episode but he is about to jump off it.

This is the key to happiness and Lev's advice and the year of yes scene 2.0 - the same shade of blue are at play here. Lev figuring it out ('I get it now') just as he's dying and Buck then trying to figure out what Lev had figured out and essentially failing before he died only to now get it and free himself is a blue thread we've been following through season 6 up to bucks death, then the use of this shade of blue in Bucks costumes tailed off - we saw it reappear a couple of times after the lightening strike - specifically around Natalia and his continues flirtation with death - almost like his hovering around death was him trying to grasp what Lev had figured out.

Then the blue had been gone again only for it to reappear here in this episode in a scene that precedes Bucks bi awakening and his comments about being free and 'yeah that works' with their double meanings that play in the same way as lev's 'I think i get it now' just without death coming immediately after. It's a scene when he starts to get an inkling on what his jealousy is actually about. (The fact we know he's going to be back in this bright blue in the next episode in a scene with Eddie - that is very likely a coming out scene also plays into this idea.)

And the stone wash jeans are once more there for all to see!

Then we get this dark navy blue shirt with silvery white dots and yet again those stone wash jeans.

Ok lets talk about the jeans! The fact that we haven't seen Buck wearing stone wash jeans, which if you watch the opening couple of seconds of the dispatch scene, you will see are proper normal length on him and not ankle swingers like we've got used to seeing him in for the last few seasons!

The thing with him suddenly wearing these stonewash jeans is all about imitation - imitation of Tommy (and by extension, imitation of Eddie even though we don't see Eddie in stonewash denim in this episode) because you know that old adage of dressing like the person you want to be , or the idea that you subconsciously start dressing like the person you have a crush one?? Well yeah - Buck has all these new feelings that he doesn't know what to do with, but Tommy is cool and Tommy dresses like Eddie and Eddie seems to like Tommy better than Buck now so maybe if Buck starts dressing a bit like Tommy he'lI get Eddies attention back. So he's pulled out the stone wash jeans so that he's dressed a bit more like Tommy, but he's also dressing a bit like his crush that he doesn't yet realise is a crush.

The other small thing that I think is a nice nod - So Like I said earlier, the last time we see the jeans is in 2x01 - Eddies introduction to the firehouse. This is the moment (on screen at least for us as viewers) that Buck ceases to be the probie - that baton is passed to Eddie, so its almost like a symbol of him graduating and maturing in some way. then we get the jeans back for Bucks bi awakening - we see them the entire time he's navigating all these new feelings he has - he's never been with a man, so he's like a probie again.

The thing is, that the jeans appear to be gone for his date with Tommy (makes sense - he's on a date so he's got to look good for his man!) , and from what I can tell from the (super dark even when brightened) stills from the Buck Eddie loft scene, it would appear they are gone for that scene too. We've had bts of Oliver in the jeans again, so I don't think they're gone completely, but that makes sense, he's still a baby queer after all, still navigating his way through things.

On to the shirt! I wrote a whole meta about this shirt (and the jeans actually!) when we first got this still - you can read it here and I'm still a little awestruck at how close to the mark I got!

What I want to add to what I said, now I have context is that the two previous times we've seen blue shirts with dots are played upon in this scene - the lawsuit is the obvious one and the parallel is showing Bucks growth - he got jealous and worried about being replaced and ended up lashing out and suing everyone, now he got jealous and thought he was being replaced, but as soon as he lashes out, he realises he is in the wrong and verbally acknowledges it.

The diner with Maddie scene is a bit more tricky to parse out, but for me, it ties to Doug - Maddie is quick to call Buck out when he confesses to Eddies injury not being an accident, because of her experiences at the hands of Doug. In the diner scene she is determined to go back to her apartment and her life in the aftermath of killing him - she wants life to go back to normal. In the loft scene Buck is trying to achieve that end too - he's in a new world where Tommy exists as part of his life now (as Eddies friend initially) and he wants to clear the air and move forward - so he's still a part of Eddies life.

I also want to talk about the contrast between this scene and the one where Taylor turns up at his door after the shooting and the difference between being chased and doing the chasing. Its spots v stripes!

Buck is in a similar shirt - short sleeved button up in a dark shade (black) - this one with vertical stripes for the Taylor scene and he thinks he's being chased for the first (ish) time (Abby sort of chased him but he is the one who pushed for it to be a relationship when I think she just wanted a bit of fun and a hook up! so I'm not sure if it actually counts or not). Thing is Taylor only chases him after they've already kissed and when he's then made it clear thats what needs to happen. (as an aside - Natalia does pursue Buck - not romantically, but because he has died - and she is the one wearing vertical stripes

While in this scene he doesn't have to say anything, yes he flirts, but he isn't explicit about what hewants - Tommy is the one who makes the decision to go for it, and so when he genuinely gets pursued, he is wearing dots

Chased verse's doing the chasing - dots v stripes

Then we have the Pink.

Pink is back in full force in 7x04 with it popping up regularly throughout the episode.

I didn't include Athenas pink dressing gown or Bucks pink shorts in their sections because I actually wanted to talk about them here. The context the scenes they were in gave me the information I needed to figure out what I think the purpose of all the pink we've been seeing is.

Lets start with a quick recap of all the pink from the 3 previous episodes then we'll look at the pink from this episode as well as the fact I've already spotted some for 7x05 from the trailer

7x01

Athena's pale pink top in therapy with Frank

Sue at dispatch in a pink cardigan

Christophers pencil is pink when he's sat at his desk - when he reads the letter from Shannon

Marisol in her bright pink strappy top

Lola's Manzanillo outfit is bright pink and white

Norman has pink flowers on his Hawaiian shirt and he later wears a bright pink polo shirt when he's pretending Lola is still with him.

7x02

the woman who is teaching her daughter to drive

the pink roses on Hen's jacket (which I know I said play into the theme of family bonds etc but the pink has a second meaning)

7x03

The cruise ship family nearly all wear pink at various points (grandma and mom are the exceptions)

and now 7x04

We have Ashley C in hot pink at the Bachelor mansion

Athena in her dusty pink ddressing gown (and pyjama pants

The woman who shot her son is in pink

And then there are Bucks pink shorts!

All of these scenes with the pink are scenes about either naivety and or innocence

The pink on Athena is about her being naive about her relationship with Bobby - not recognising that she is nothing to fear about them spending time together.

Sues pink cardigan. Sue's line is about the civilians at risk from the fighter jet - she is representing their innocence

Christophers pink pencil - in that scene his behaviour might be naive (he's a child so of course it is) but it comes from a place of complicated feelings as he does begin to mature - he was the innocent party in the loss of Shannon and he is the one left to suffer.

Lola is naive on the ship about having an affair and thinking she could get away with it and that it wouldn't hurt Norman. She’s also innocent in the plot regarding the bitcoin (or whatever it was)

Norman is also both naive and innocent - not recognising the fact his wife is cheating, for selling up their entire life and he is innocent in the bitcoin plot.

The mother and daughter were innocent in the car crash.

the pink flowers on Hens jacket hint at her being innocent of any wrong doing (from a departmental perspective) at the car accident.

The cruise family are innocent - just in the wrong place at rhetorical wrong time and they are a representation of all the innocent people on the boat who end up in danger on that ship.

I think the Marisol top is an interesting one - it plays into Chris being naïve thinking he can date multiple girls without them finding out. But I also think it’s foreshadowing her naivety in general - I think we might either see her immaturity in some way (perhaps on a date with Eddie) which will prove terminal for her relationship with Eddie. Now we know about this date scene coming up this is possible but it could also end up being about the fact that she is likely going to be an innocent party caught in the crossfire of Eddie unrepressing himself (much in the same way Ana was back in s4/5.

Ashely C's pink dress is a representation of the innocence of trying to find love.

Athena's pink dressing gown is about her innocently and blindly/ naively being excited about Harrys return home to her.

The lady who shot her son is innocent in that her actions were brought about by something out of her control and so she can't truly be held responsible for them.

Then Bucks pink shorts are about his queer innocence and naivety about his feelings the fact that we see them in a scene where Tommy isn’t present, a scene that is meant to inform the audience that his behaviours is all about Eddie and not Tommy - that he’s naively not grasping that part of this internal confusion that he's experiencing.

To add to all of this, we have Marisol carrying a pink bag in the teaser for next week, to me if pink theory is correct then this is playing into the idea that Marisol is naively dating Eddie and that she's going to be an innocent caught up in whatever goes down in that scene (part of this arc) the use of lighter pink here specifically on a handbag is giving me babyish vibes as well (its screaming little girl playing at dress up!). As a quick aside - I am very amused that shes been dressed in a basic black top - she looks like wait staff!

And of course there is Eddies pink ensemble that is connected to either Chims bachelor party or the Madney Wedding. I have no idea what is going to happen in this scene(s) but whatever does go down - place your bets on Eddie being innocent (and or naive!) in whatever goes on - itll be fun to see if I'm right! 🤓

Right 7k later and that is me done for this meta!!! I am handing out the tea, coffee, cake and biscuits (all dietary requirements catered for!)🫖☕️🧁🍩🍪- you've earnt them if you've made it to the end of this monster! Hope you enjoyed reading. i'm off to revel in Bi Buck some more - I can't believe its happened I'm overcome!!! 🩷💜💙

Tagged peeps as always are below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothill @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @tommykinarddd @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine

(if the tags don't work its because people have changed their url (very valid of you!) and I didn't know, so let me know if you want tagging in future in the comments so I can catch the new urls!

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 8 months

Note

Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. 🥺(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)

Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol

Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !

Leonardo:

• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to

• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him

• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."

• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father

• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."

• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside

• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation

Michelangelo:

• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual

• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"

• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home

• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills

• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)

• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.

• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey

• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"

• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)

Donatello:

• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."

• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)

• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time

• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate

• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers

• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it

• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"

Raphael:

• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.

• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go

• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."

• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack

• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh

• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)

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turtledovenycx · 6 months

Text

"Under the stage, below the platform" (𝐁.𝐂)

🎧Chase Atlantic - Heaven and Back

“The feeling of pleasure with the thrill of not being caught was so naughty, so wrong.”

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐮, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭🔞

𝐖.𝐂 𝟒.𝟐𝐤

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠)

“She looks good in that skirt.” Chan’s thoughts were half rational and half PornHub. He was not the kind to lose his cool that easily, being the leader of an unruly but lovable band that behaved like children for half of his life, he was well versed in keeping calm but lord! Were you testing him today?

The crew had given the boys a holiday under supervision. In light of their fame, they had to select an amusement park where they wouldn’t be disturbed too much. The crowd at this park was present but thankfully scattered. It was just the managers, the boys, and a few friends, no cameras, no scripts, and no retakes, they had the freedom to just be themselves without the pressure. However, this was not necessarily a good thing especially for Chan because if the boys were loud on camera, they were supersonic off camera sometimes completely forgetting their idol image. The perks were their VIP passes which ensured they did not stay at one spot for long enough to be noticed.

Some of the boys invited their s/os’ like Chan while the single members of the group took the liberty to bring their closest friends. It was like an extended hangover, after the initial awkwardness of the meet-up and introduction, the atmosphere shifted from bashful laughter to free laughter. Since for some of them, it was a date the team decided to form small groups or go as couples until they regrouped for lunch at the nearby place. This was the most normal they had been in their recent schedules.

You and Chan decided to venture off alone, going through the highlight rides before it got too crowded and then slowly making your way across one end of the park to the other. It was so refreshing as both of you spent time laughing and wandering in and out of stores and souvenir shops. Your laughter increased tenfold when both of heard what sounded like Changbin’s scream as the ride rose into the air and dropped. The ride read DareDevil and Chan's phone lit up with a notification, a selfie - in which Lee Know was smirking wearing a devil horns headband, Changbin crying in the background, and Jeongin losing his shit from laughter. You both stared at his phone the group chat alive from the incoming messages, you sipped from Chan’s drink, his focus turning to yours while your attention was on the phone.

Your eyes crinkled at the edges as the grin never left your face, a soft laugh escaped as the phone lit up with new messages and more pictures of poor traumatized Binnie. Your lips looked so soft, so plump and bright now resting between your teeth as you tried to control your laughter. You took another sip of the slushie your eyebrows narrowing at the cold.

Just like it narrows when-

“Channie, want ice cream?” You asked looking up to find him staring at you, his face so close to yours his nose almost brushed yours when you lifted your head. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. He nodded, his eyes landing briefly on your lips before he pulled himself together. “Yeah.” He said clearing his throat, you smiled before walking forward, hand in his leading him through the crowd. Chan was a gentleman, your boyfriend treated you like a princess in and out of bed. He was never against PDA but he held himself back from kissing you in public given his responsibilities of his image and most importantly he did not want you to feel overwhelmed not that you ever could with how comfortable you were with him.

It had started with your skirt, Chan loved your body and soul, and he urged you to do the same. He was the happiest when you pushed past your insecurities and dressed up… just for him at times. To him you are the most beautiful being in the room regardless of where you guys are. As of right now, The skirt you had on was soft, not as soft as your plush thighs but soft and fell seductively till your mid-thigh. The ruffles and bows drew attention to the material and your legs… oh your legs Chan thought, ‘Mine’.

The top you wore was tight in all the right places, accentuating the curves of your torso and your breasts peaking out from the sweetheart neckline. The two-layered necklace that adorned your neck completed the look, a surge of possessiveness went through his body after seeing the C imprinted on the choker.

“There it is” you chimed stopping abruptly, Chan almost did not hear you. There was a queue in front of the stand, you hesitated ‘What if someone recognized Chan?’

“We can get it som-” he pulled you forward and stood behind a mother and her kids who were waiting in line. You stood a step behind him.

“Chris, what if someone sees you?” you whispered using his first name, his cock stirred in his pants you only called him that when you were serious or horny.

“I’m wearing a hat, plus I don’t see anyone who could potentially notice us, “ he replied after doing a quick scan of the short queue, a few kids, parents, moms and dads juggling toddlers and some teenage couple.

“Okay,” you sighed, slipping your hand into his and interlocking your fingers, Chan brought your palm to his mouth placing a soft kiss on top. You blushed and smiled brightly up at him and Chan wanted to kiss you so badly. Oh fuck!

You guys talked about this and that, you trying to make sure no one saw Chan and him trying not to bend down and kiss you square on the mouth. He successfully distracted you as you recited the latest drama that was going on in your workplace. You rambled on and on pouting slightly at the memory of the argument and Chan found it adorable. He even thought about pulling you in between the stores and fulfilling his wish. But before he had to go to the bathroom.

“Baby, I need to go use the restroom,” he said placing a discreet kiss on your head. You nodded, the line was slowed down because the machine had stopped. Chan walked away from the line as two workers wrestled with it.

When he returned you were on your phone and there was just one customer in front of you. He took a once over of you again, standing there brows knitted in concentration, one hand playing with your necklace before looking up at him, your face smoothed and a smile broke down, your turn was up as he jogged towards you.

“Hi, what can I get you?” the boy behind the screen asked before his eyes landed on you. His eyes too flicked to your lips for a split second as you skimmed the menu. The appearance of your boyfriend next to you wiped the small smirk of the boy’s face replaced by a disappointed frown. This however did not go unnoticed by Chan.

“I’m thinking blackberry or should I get mango?” you ask breaking the glare he held onto the boy as he looked down at you.

“Get what you want love.” he deadpanned, his curt answer surprised you, but you brushed it off.

“I’ll have the blackberry swirl.” you smiled at the boy who clicked onto his screen, “would you like that to be in a cone or cup?” He returned with an over-enthusiastic smile. “Cone please” he nodded.

“And a salted caramel-” you stated looking at Chan for confirmation, he nodded before smiling to himself giddy that you knew exactly what he craved.

“Cone or cup.” the boy rudely asked eyes turning to Chan, he glared back with the same intensity. “Cup.” Chan would have added a please or a smile under normal circumstances but this guy was being rude.

“Could I interest you in any toppings?” he asked eyes trained on you as you were busy watching the ice cream being scooped.

“I don’t know it's an additional few dollars.”

“It’s on the house.” the boy smiled as his co-worker scooped up the blackberry swirl in a generous amount and placed it on a cone covered with tissue.

“Oh really?” you asked, his smile grew brighter, and Chan clenched his jaw.

“Chocolate sprinkles in the salted caramel please,” you said placing the menu down. The poor boy’s face fell and Chan held back a laughter. He was beaming with pride at the guy's failed attempt. Chan wasn’t usually petty and he understood how people would look for an extra few seconds when you were so beautiful. But it’s the way his eyes trailed your torso every time you weren’t looking and the fact that even though it was established that you were taken he would not back off purposely ignoring and behaving rudely to Chan.

“Right it's 18 dollars,” he said his eyes glancing at your chest when you looked away to retrieve the money from your purse.

“I got it,” you said but before you could pay Chan had given his card.

“Make it 20 dollars,” Chan said smirking, holding out the card in his hand in front of your body, covering your chest and blocking the creeps view.

“I could have paid,” you said pouting, he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close as you guys moved to the pick-up counter

“Funny, you think I would let you pay,” Chan said as your orders were done.

“Thank you,” you said grabbing the sweet treat and licking off the top, before helping Chan get his spoon and you were off.

You guys walked in silence before you started. “But still, you are always paying for everything. The trip, our souvenirs even the VIP bands,” you say eating your ice cream while arguing why you should be allowed to get the ice cream you and Chan are currently devouring. Fully paid.

“Okay first, the trip and VIP bands are from the company, secondly I like paying for everything, not because I have to or I don't think you can pay but because it makes me happy. I don’t want you to pay, just be here with me, I’ll accept that as payment.” He said almost finishing his cup, extending the last bite to you which you gladly accepted.

“That was cheesy and maybe we shouldn’t have ordered the toppings... Does it taste weird or just me?”

“It tastes fine.” He shrugged throwing the cup in the nearby bin, you guys were on this street set of the theme park. The sides are lined with fake stone buildings with wax statues and stores. There were red phone booths and short streetlights on the path you both walked.

“Speaking of weird, Channie did you feel the dude was being a bit rude?” You asked halfway through your cone.

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” he said holding your hand in the process.

“A little huh? You looked like you wanted to shoot lasers at him,” you stated, he looked baffled.

“You noticed?” he asked you giggled at how shy your boyfriend seemed now.

“Baby, he was being weird I honestly wanted to cancel when he was rude to you. I’m not that clueless you know. I saw you glare at him.” you guys had stopped walking, Chan did not how he felt. Silly? Proud? Turned on?

“It was kind of hot.” you winked and that was the last straw, Chan pulled you between two fake buildings into an alleyway.

“Chan-” you gasped but he had his lips on yours before another word. He tasted like caramel without the weird aftertaste of the toppings. His kisses were fervent, hot, and desperate.

“Princess. wanted. To. kiss. From. before.” he said in between kisses, his hands fervently grabbing your body. Your waist, your hips, your butt, your hands, your face.

“Me too,” you said hand grabbing his collar the other balancing your almost finished ice cream.

“I wanted to kiss you too,” you said kissing his soft lips he held the back of your head, angling it so that he could press to you closer. The taste of caramel and blackberry mixing invades both your senses.

The need to breathe broke the heated kiss, Chan placing his forehead on yours and gasping. You had a smile on your face.

“You wanted to kiss me too?” he asked, one of his palms gently holding your cheek, he placed a chaste kiss on them.

“Mhmm.” you nodded, biting your lower lip, “Since we stepped in the park, I was scared that someone would see us and recognize you,” you admitted looking at your boyfriend. His lip now appeared swollen, glistening with your gloss and saliva. His eyes clouded and had a mischievous glint in them.

“I know me too…. I love you,” he told you kissing your lips to seal his words. You giggled as he alternated with loud smooches and soft kisses all over your face. Chan’s love has always been this and it enthralled you, silly and pure.

“Chris…” you gasped as a few drops of ice cream that was left on the cone fell onto your collarbone missing your garments.

He smirked before looking in the direction you all came in, there were people but no one noticed the small nook. Chan grabbed the hand that held the small piece of cone before bringing it to his lips,

“Mmm.” he exaggerated as he ate the cone, teasingly licking and biting your fingers in the process. Your face flushed red, and your breath became shallow. He moved onto your neck next, placing a long lavish lick from the base of your neck to the side of it.

“Ah, Chris…” you moaned hand in his hair as he licked the ice cream off your collarbone, sucking and biting on the skin to leave a faint mark. He kissed the hickey and kissed his way till his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

Your hands found their way to his chest as he teased the skin behind your ear earning a soft whimper out of you.

“We are in public… we can’t ..ah” you whispered as your boyfriend pulled your body flush against his. Hand slithering under your skirt he grabbed handfuls of your ass as he kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped.

“Channie…” you pushed him away to put space between the two of you. Heaving as you guys neglected oxygen. He wasn’t done he had lost half his rational thoughts and right now all he wanted was you, more and more of you. He pulled you towards him by your hands and was about to kiss you when a loud whistle broke the trance you were in, clearing both of your thoughts and reminding you guys that people could see you. No one noticed thankfully the whistle was just a group of friends goofing around.

“I need more,” he whispered in your ear as you straightened his shirt, wiped gloss off his lips, and tended to yourself. Your face felt hot at his submission his hands snaking around your waist. Your boyfriend rarely showed this side of him, but you became excited and shy when it did. He was so demanding and his usual shyness faded revealing a bold man with a filthy mouth.

“We can’t, not here,” you said placing a kiss on his lips and walking towards the front of the alley. A few kids had begun to look into the space wondering.

He pulled you back a few steps. “The restrooms?”

“Chan, it's the holiday season, and a lot of people will be there in the restroom how are you gonna sneak into the women's room.” you laughed as you both emerged from the nook onto the street.

“Wait, why me? I’ll sneak you in.” He protested.

“There is no way I’m sneaking into the men’s room,” you say

“But-” his whine got cut off with a phone call.

“They are regrouping, it's 1 p.m.” He said.

“So fast? Where was the pizza place again?” you questioned, looking at the hand map you guys had grabbed from the entrance, if you both made a shortcut through the stage field you could reach there in a shorter time.

“Come on.” you grabbed Chan’s hand and walked towards the stage.

The stage was not huge but it was big enough for a band of five and their equipment to perform. It was at a decent height and could be viewed from afar. This was the heart of the park, and a local band was set up to perform. Chan zigzagged his way through the crowd, till you guys reached the stage. The platform was raised and the same height as your boyfriend. The guards hadn’t set up the gates yet so both of you slipped in and went behind the stage where people were shifting and moving props.

“Are we allowed in here ?” you questioned as you both speed-walked through the hustle and bustle.

“No, I don't think so.” Chan said, “I thought so, babe we -” Your sentence was cut off again as Chris pulled you under the platform, through the black curtains. The underside was spacious it was filled with backup speakers, wires, equipment, and microphone stands. Boxes and cartons filled one side and a big sound woofer was placed next to it, you could hear footsteps above you.

“What are you doing? we are gonna get kicked out,” you whisper- yelled as the Chan cornered you, you hit the woofers and Chan caged you in with his arms.

“I told you I want more,” he said in his thick accent, eyes falling onto your lips. The dim light and space make that action insanely attractive.

“Someone could walk in.” you tried as he dipped his head between your shoulder and neck placing kisses.

“We have to be quick then,” Chan stated before he shut you up with a soft kiss, you all but melted. The band had begun sound testing and the bass from the guitar reverberated through the platform, to the poles that held it, into your bodies. He bit slightly onto your bottom lip, earning a whimper out of you, and pulled back. Chan looked at you as you seemed to be in a daze, eyes glazed over, marks on your neck and collarbone, and gloss-smudged lips. Gorgeous. The confined space heated up quickly as he lifted you onto the woofer, people ran to and fro -on and behind that stage- but at that moment you couldn't care less, it was like you both had entered a different world. Where the two of you were alone.

His fingers began undoing the ties on your top, pulling the neckline down to expose your breast.

“Ah, Chris-” you mewled when Chan kissed around your nipple, before playing with it using his tongue. The band had begun playing a song as Chan created bite marks around the supple flesh and sucked on your nipple till you couldn’t hold back your moans.

“My girl, so sensitive here,” he said using his forefinger to circle your hardened bud, your body jerking at the action. He kissed you as his hands made their way all over your body, one palm gripped your ass as the other disappeared between your legs and moved your skirt out of the way.

You moaned into his mouth your hands reached towards his bulge, trying to provide friction over the rough denim as he pushed your panties aside and played with your clit.

“You are so wet for me? Hm? All for me my baby…” he all but breathed into your mouth, one of his fingers entering you as you let out a whine. Chan groaned as you reached for his zipper but he stopped you.

“I want to taste you.” He said before he got on his knees and pushed your skirt up,

“Channie-” you tried weakly as he licked a fat strip from your hole to your clit. Repeating the action he grabbed your hands and placed them on his head, silently asking you to hold his face to your cunt before he dived in under your skirt, the material covering his head partially, holding your panties to the side.

Chan ate your pussy with fervor and passion like he was quenched and needed water, he sucked on your clit before moving towards your hole and teasing the entrance. Your moans were drowned out by the music and commotion outside, and you let out a gasp as your man placed one of your thighs on his shoulder. The new angle allowed his tongue to enter your cunt, and you almost lost balance at the sensation. Your arm tired of holding yourself up so Chan wouldn’t have to bear your whole weight and the other playing with his tresses. He was relentless, slowing down to look at you and smirk before speeding up again. Surrounded by the pleasure you did not quite register two of his fingers entering you until you felt the beginning chills of your orgasm. His fingers scissored you open as his teeth grazed your swollen clit, fingers curled to hit that one spot that had you throwing your head back. Chan gazed to see you your top half undone, tits covered in his marks and spit, hair disheveled, lips between your teeth as you held tried to hold back your sounds. One of his hands reached up to your tit and kneaded the flesh.

“Chris…. Chris.. ah … oh Channie I can’t. Ah..” your foot dig into his back as broken moans and incoherent babbles left you as he fingered you, kissing your clit. "The feeling of pleasure mixed with the thrill of not being caught was so naughty, so wrong." You began moving your hips in sync with his head. The taunt feeling in your stomach snapped when his fingers pinched your nipple and your orgasm washed over you. Your hip jerked and Chan guided you with his hands on your hips as you rode out your orgasm. You tried to pull him up and return the favor but he declined. “It’s okay baby, you can pay me back once we are home.”

“But I-”

“If we start now I don't think I can hold back,” he admitted kissing your pussy once more before he placed your leg back on the ground and got up dusting his knees. Your legs felt weak and you needed a minute to catch your breath resting your head on his shoulder. Chris wrapped his arms around you placing kisses to soothe you on your head, eyes, and neck. You lazily kissed him as he tried to knot the strings of your top. You giggled and then fixed your top yourself. He held you, his arms around your waist while you rested yours around his neck. You fixed your hair and then smiled at Chan who was busy admiring the faint post-orgasm blush on your cheeks. The music continued outside oblivious of the atmosphere under the stage below the platform

“I love you,” you whispered in his ear not wanting to break the little bubble both of you found under a stage during a band rehearsal.

“I love you too,” he said kissing you again, your lips felt fuzzy.

“I love you,” you repeated and he chuckled. “This because I didn't get to tell you at the alley. And this-” you placed a long kiss on his lips smiling against his lips, Chan feeling dizzy “for always taking care of me.” Before Chan could reply someone entered the space both of you jumping at the intrusion.

“HEY! WHO ARE YOU? YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE?!” the woman yelled as someone else entered under the stage. Springing to action, you both ran out of the stage into the crowd. Chan grabbed your hand as he pushed through the crowd yelling out ‘Sorry, excuse us, pardon me mate.’ you guys did not stop till the stage disappeared behind and you were close to the pizzeria. You both stopped laughing and tried to catch your breath, you fixed yourself as Chan discreetly adjusted himself in his pants. You send an apologetic glance to which he just winks and kisses you briefly. As soon as you entered the restaurant you spotted your friends, the loudest in the bunch, it was remarkable how people had not recognized them when they doing everything but laying low. The shouting and hollering intensified as the two of you approached the somewhat private tables.

“You’re late!” Jisung yelled, he was in a mid straw fight with Seungmin. “Yeah, we took the long route,” Chan said slipping into the booth after you.

“Of course you did.” Lee Know said smirking, he noticed the flushed expressions, Chan’s messy hair, and faint marks on you before his eyes met Chan’s. You blushed and turned away from them engaging in something Felix said.

‘Not a word’ Chan glared at Minho. He smiled shrugging before turning away to share a knowing look with Hyunjin. The fuckers had bet on why you were late Minho won clearly as Hyunjin extended a five-dollar bill to him. “Guys, Changbin Hyung cried.” Jeongin reminded again as Changbin groaned.

“In-ah! For the last time, it was because of the speed” The laughter and shouting ensued and Chan placed his hands on your thigh. The clock on the wall read 1:50 and you hoped the day would not end.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰��𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘤𝘹 ©

A/N: it was a bit long right? This is my first time writing smut so excuse any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed it. follow @turtledovenycx for more.

_nyx.☽༊˚

#skz x reader #bang chan imagines #chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids #skz #kpop fanfic #kpop #straykids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader #nyx writings.☽༊˚

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yestrday · 6 months

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do u have any more crumbs abt crazy, tiny, will scratch and bite me if provoked (kinky....) housewife scara? 🙏 LAWDDD ABOVE, ur writing is too good.

notes: anything for my babygurlll 💪💪

( jealousy, masochism <- reader, sadism <- kuni, slight blood, slight nsfw mentions, mentions of cheating, no one cjeats, possessive behavior )

"... what else do we need? fish, chicken... ah, we ran out of sichuan pepper just yesterday too... hm, i think our rice is running low too. hey, [y. name], run over to the rice section and get us some—" kuni turns to you, and a scowl etches on his features as puts his hands on his hips. "wipe that stupid look off your face, we're in the grocery."

you don't know how being in the grocery is relevant to anything, but you do kind of know about what stupid look he's talking about. maybe he's referring to the way you're slumped on the grocery cart handle, grinning widely with a hand cupping your cheek as you stare all moony-eyed at your pretty husband. straight from the house with a lilac apron on and clutching a hurriedly written grocery list, he was the perfect image of domesticity. your partner, glaring at you right now through those bewitching purple eyes and—

SLAP! "cut. that. out!" kuni growls under his voice, pulling your hair towards his height and looking all menacing like despite the red blush on his cheeks. "you're embarassing me in public!" you stop the slight moan coming from your mouth, as well as the comment to point out his hypocrisy. some onlookers look like they want to interfere, but one look at your heart eyes and blushing face makes them deter at the realization that you're both freaks.

"sorry, sorry~" you coo, bringing him into a hug and nuzzle your face into his neck. though his hands lay limp at his sides, he doesn't squirm and only buries a pout into your skin. "you're just super duper a thousand times cuter today than usual, y'know~ i couldn't help myself!"

"you said that yesterday and the day before that and everyday before that!" kuni grumbles softly. "now i'm starting to wonder if you actually mean it."

you gasp softly, pulling him away by the shoulders and looking into his eyes. "now how can you say that?"you ask, feigning hurt. "you should know how deeply and madly i'm in love with you, right? my darling cute kuni, who makes me lose all rationality whenever i stare at him..."

kuni rolls his eyes at your dramatic confession. "oh, please—"

"... [y. name]?"

an unsure voice cuts him off, and the two of you quickly glance at the wide-eyed man staring at the both of you with a grocery basket hanging off his shoulder. a spark of realization lights up in his eyes when he finally takes a better look at your face, and he grins happily at you. "[y. name]! it really is you! fancy running into you here!"

anyone talking to you should ready themselves for a beating from kuni, who already has a scowl deeply etched on his face, but you quickly step forward before things can escalate. he glances up at you, and he furrows his brow at the relatively normal demeanor you've put up. "kyle!" you grin with a tone that makes kuni bristle. "good to see you here. your girlfriend got you running errands?"

"h-how'd you know?"

you laugh. "just a hunch. from the way she's been ranting to her department about how she does all the chores anyway." you slap a hand to his shoulder. "help your girlfriend out too. sharing chores is quite a great way to bond. why, i'm actually here with my hus... band..."

your voice trails off when you see kuni staring daggers into kyle. you chuckle a bit nervously, afraid that he might materialize an actual dagger out of nowhere (he was in the habit of being a tad murderous). "well, currently not in the best of moods, but my lovely wife's here with me."

thankfully, kyle's not the brightest man, so he's quite unaware of all the homicidal thoughts running around kuni's brain as he offers a respectful bow. "hello, mr. [l. name]! i'm [y. name]'s junior. they've been a great help to me and sadie ever since we entered the company!" he offers out a hand for a good ol' shake, but kuni only sneers at it and hides behind your back. kyle is left dumbfounded, stretching his hand towards air.

"inazumans... don't shake hands," you smile as you make up a reason. you can feel kuni burying himself in your back, his sharp nails digging into your hips as a warning. you try to maintain your composure and suppress the blush on your face. "anyways, we've gotta run. kuni's still got cooking to do!"

"n-no worries, [y. name], i'll see you this monday. a-and..." kyle nervously fidgets with his basket and avoids eye contact with you. "you can come over for dinner after work with us anytime. me and sadie do owe you a lot... really. it's..." kyle's blush deepens and he bites his lip— a nervous habit you're familiar with. "... it's the least we can do."

when kyle dashes off, you and kuni finish the rest of the groceries in silence. that make syou a little nervous, especially since you were half-expecting (awaiting, more like it) for him to just pin you to the nearest wall as soon as kyle was out of the picture. you two load the groceries in your car in silence, all while you give kuni nervous side-glances.

finally settled in the driver's seat, and kuni stormily cross-armed beside you, you try to catch his eye. "kuni...?" you ask in a breathy nervous half-laughter. "what's wrong?"

hyou flinch at how much venom is in his voice and ignore how it's making you feel down there. "someone tried to ask you out in front of me!" his voice is shaking. "and you're gonna have the fucking audacity to ask me what's wrong?!"

"they're just my co-worker, kuni, i promise," you try to soothe him. "it's not like i was gonna take them up on their offer anyway. why would i, when i got y—"

"liar!" you wince as his voice shrills in your ear. "if you weren't planning to, then you should've just turned them down, right in front of me. no, you were planning to, weren't you?" he leans over and jabs a finger into your chest, glaring up at you with those sharp purple eyes. "you were planning on going with them after work, huh? then what?"

"i had no plans, kuni." you try to reach a hand out to stroke his hair, but he quickly grabs it and digs his nails into you. you stare into his eyes. "i promise."

kuni scowls, and you don't even know why you bother. once he gets into this possesisve, irrate mood, nothing can abate him till he lets all the stress out. "liar," he growls, and reaches over and pulls the handle to lay the driver's seat flat.

you fall back with a hard thump, and kuni wastes no time in straddling you in your seat and grabbing you by the collar. "you filthy, fucking liar. how dare you play around with me, your husband, huh? what the hell were you gonna do with them, anyway?! eat dinner, then what? let them fuck that slutty mouth of yours till you go stupid?" he sneers "i know how good you look doing that. i bet everyyy guy and his wife in your office is itching to get a taste of you."

oh. ohhhh. oh gosh, car play? your heart is beating a thousand miles per second, and your blush deepends as kuni's other hand digs into your torso painfully. oh archons. kuni mistakes the blush on your cheeks for something else, and his eyes become positively stormy.

"filthy bitch," he spits, digging even deeper until he draws blood. you whimper in arousal as you feel the familiar warm trickle from your torso. "what, you get off to fantasizing about your whole office fucking you?" you try to shake your head, telling him that it's him making you like this and no one else, but he swoops in to steal a kiss before you can say anything.

it's nothing like the sweet kisses you steal from him when you walk out the front door. it's feral, animalistic. he's biting on your lips till he draws blood and sucking on your tongue until your brain goes numb from the tingling. he lets out a haughty smirk as he pulls away, the trickle of drool connecting your lips till it breaks.

"thaat's better," he sighs, slumping back and getting a good look at your blissed out face. "just a little kiss and you're all fucked out for me just like this.

"just like how it should be."

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere scaramouche #yester.writes #yester.au — househusbands 💍

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thinemoonshine · 2 days

Text

⋆ ˚｡𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓈 ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem! member x enhypen ot7 genre: fluff, slight angst (the members get upset and protective) type: oneshot word count: 1.3k

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: in which (y/n) is given a clothing much too revealing and restrictive that it evokes the members’ protectiveness and heroic sense to win her justice ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“Alright, idols! Please head into the dressing room for your fittings!! Stylists, please pay close attention to the new sets we brought in— check all their details and sizes and make sure nothing is wrong!” The head stylist reminds as she walks across the room and out into the corridor to grab some other stuff required for Enhypen’s stage.

Heeseung and the boys howl and sing in deep bass voices as they march into the makeup room in a messy line, all dressed in their new stage fits as they still need to check their practicability during dance.

"I nEEd tHe lIGh—" Heeseung freezes entirely at the doorway, causing Jake, Jay and Ni-ki as well as the other members behind to collide with one another's back.

Jay furrows as he flips his hair back before tidying them again with his fingers while Jake who's in front of him stares at the back of a frozen Hee's head.

"Why'd you stop?" He asks their oldest but when he follows the shocked gaze of the wide-eyed bambi, he too mimics his expression— jaw falling and eyes growing twice in size. "(y/n)?? Wha...what are you wearing?"

(y/n) lifts her head to them and instinctively crosses her arms, a feeble smile on her clearly strained expression. "Hey... It's my new set."

The sound of discomfort in her voice breaks their line as the members pour into the room like pool balls scattering across the board.

And as if witnessing a scene right out of a horror film playing right in front of their eyes, they express different forms of fright.

Sunoo with his hand flying to his mouth as a large gasp escapes, Jay and Ni-ki who are completely petrified with the former expressing evident displeasure and the latter just looking onto his shoes before the walls then, at (y/n) before back to his shoes; Sunghoon whose thick brows are scrunched and knitted yet lips tightly pressed and finally, Jungwon with a similar expression but jaw tightened.

In front of the standing mirror in the makeup room is (y/n) who's wearing a pink camisole top with frilly black trims and a thin satin ribbon in the centre of the sweetheart neck line. The fabric around the chest is elastic, hugging her tightly while the cloth that runs below it that reaches just slightly above her hip is sheer.

Her stomach can be seen faintly, blanketed by the translucent material and to make matters worse, it's paired with a low-rise pleated, black miniskirt that seems too short to even be called a miniskirt. Is there such thing as a mini miniskirt? Because that's how it looks to them. It looks more alike a frilly swimsuit than it is a stage outfit, at least where they're from.

It's tiny to the point that her safety shorts seem like normal shorts and at that moment, the Enhypen members are beginning to question the rationality of their staff— and the whole company.

"..W…Wow! Such a cute combo...!" Jake exclaims, trying to be supportive as to not offend or discourage their lone female teammate as he approaches her with an awkward grin. "Where's the jacket? Or a cardigan, maybe?"

(y/n)'s crossed arms lower to her abdomen, trying to conceal it as the sheerness of her camisole isn't doing much. "This is the whole fit, actually..."

"What?" Heeseung blurts as his expression falls and Jay walks over to (y/n), draping his leather jacket over her shoulders to which she quickly slips her sleeves in. "They expect you to perform in this?"

"This isn't practical," Jay comments, now left in his sleeveless shirt as he glares at whatever is in front but his stare softens when he looks at (y/n). "They said this is your new fit? Is there nothing else?"

She shakes her head and both him and Sunghoon emit a heavy sigh of frustration, the latter resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"This is impossible! You can't perform in this!" Sunoo loudly expresses his disagreement to her ensemble as he tightens the jacket around her, angrily fixing the zip together with an evident scowl. "Can't even give you some tights? Or a cardigan? It's not like they can't afford it!"

Jungwon steps forward and runs his solicitous gaze on the features of her face, reading her expression. "You want to wear something else? You should wear something else. You can't dance in this."

He doesn't even give her the opportunity to reply before he looks around the room, searching for any known stylists and keenly spots one blending in with the makeup artists. "Excuse me! Stylist-nim!"

The said staff turns and she walks over to the crowd of 7 that encircle the subject of their worry. "Yes?"

Jungwon gestures to (y/n) who stands uncomfortably. Being one of the youngest with no significant team role and the only female, she always has to tread more carefully than the others. Her position is after all, more vulnerable and she doesn’t want anything to risk it. Jungwon knows that. "She can't wear this."

The stylist turns to her before her lips form an 'O.' "Ah, this? Yes, this jacket is Jay's so this isn't supposed to—"

She's stopped by both Sunghoon's and Jay's hand that rest on her arm and shoulder respectively, directly preventing her from removing the jacket. Her head lifts, meeting eyes with the two and instantly feeling small at their stern gazes despite their lips that remain closed.

"We know that's Jay's jacket. We put it on her because her outfit doesn't seem appropriate for the stage. She can't perform in that," Heeseung interjects as his eyes travel from her head to toe. "Look, she's getting cold already."

"It's the company's decision so we can't—"

"So, you expect her to go out like this?" Jungwon interrupts and the frigid air around them melts from the fire burning in his usually gentle eyes and unmoving, defensive stance but it doesn’t make things better at the slightest. In fact, it feels worse.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"We can’t change her set without prior notice to the company…” The stylist nervously says and Jay nods understandingly although, his soft frown and tightened lips suggest otherwise.

“Then, she can wear my jacket,” he says and the members give subtle nods, showing their unanimous approval.

Ni-ki stands closer to (y/n) and offers a small smile, sharp eyes gazing down at her before at the jacket. “Yeah, it looks nice like this too.”

“But—”

7 pairs of daunting eyes slice daggers onto her, unnerving her very being and she takes a small, subservient step backwards. They speak no words, not wanting to appear rude and demanding yet the grim aura that emanates and overpowers from the group is enough to stifle the whole room, enough to perturb, rid one of air with a tension so thick, you can cut.

“Um… I’ll see what I can do.”

She scurries away and after what seems like a frantic discussion, they decide to change her outfit. They keep the top, but pairs it with a matching black sweater knit shrug to cover her bare arms and shoulders, and replaces her miniskirt for a pair of high-waisted bootcut jeans that cover up to her waist.

It’s clear how happy (y/n) is after the alterations so it’s almost comedic and yet, heartwarming to see the boys even happier at seeing her twirl and grin in front of the standing mirror.

“Can’t believe they made her wear that,” Heeseung comments bitterly. “How is she supposed to dance?”

“Can’t believe the company even agreed on it,” Jay adds and Jungwon shakes his head with disbelief.

The sound of giddy chuckles fill the room and the older ones watch as Ni-ki and (y/n) have a hand-slapping match, both having too great of a balance to actually fall so they end up looking like those inflatable dummies.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 29 days

Text

thank u @ckducky for drawing funny art of charlie's silly spear jealously and making THIS mental image pop into my head XD

Vaggie: "Thanks for doing this for us again, Ms. Rosie."

Rosie: "Oh my dear you know I'm just TICKLED PINK to help!"

Vaggie: "Well we really need it."

Charlie: "No we don't. I'm acting completely normally for this situation. I am being Totally Rational."

Vaggie: "Sweetie-

Charlie: "TOTALLY. RATIONAL."

Vaggie: "Charlie, you promised you'd be open minded about this...."

Charlie: "I am open! I just also know Rosie is going to AGREE with me on this!!"

Rosie: "Ohoho I suppose we'll see about that, won't we~?"

Rosie: "Now, why don't we put that spear away, hmm? And then the three of us can settling in for a nice long chat while you tell auntie Rosie all abut it!"

Vaggie: "Uh, actually. The spear has to stay."

Rosie: "Oh?"

Vaggie: "I'm kinda just dropping it off?"

Charlie: "Dropping IT off? Oh thanks Vaggie for coming alllllll this way- for the SPEAR."

Vaggie: "Them. I'm dropping THEM off."

Rosie: "... I'm afraid I don't quite follow? You came here for relationship advice, yes?"

Vaggie: "Right. Charlie's having relationships issues."

Charlie: "IT'S NOT AN ISSUE."

Rosie: "You mean, you and Charlie are having issues?"

Charlie: "THIS IS A NORMAL LEVEL OF FRUSTRATION!"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "I'VE BEEN DEALING THIS THIS FOR Y E A R S AND HONESTLY I THINK I DESERVE A MEDAL FOR IT AT THIS POINT!!"

Rosie: "Charlie and... the spear?"

Charlie: "THAT BITCH!"

Vaggie: "Yeah."

Rosie: "I feel as though I understand even less. Isn't your spear-"

Vaggie: "Inanimate, yeah."

Charlie: "Oh don't let it fool you. It knows EXACTLY what it's doing-"

Charlie: "-SEE? SEE!! Look at it GLEAMING all SMUG in the sunlight, all nice and cozy where Vaggie so very CAREFULLY snuggled it into it's own chair-"

Vaggie: "Anyway thanks again Rosie for helping I gotta get back to the hotel."

Rosie: "I.... darling, I'm not sure this quite my...."

Vaggie: (ignores her) "I'll pick th- I'll pick CHARLIE up in an hour."

Rosie: "Wait-"

Vaggie: (smooching charlie's cheek) "Try to talk things out a bit, okay?"

Charlie: "Hmph! There's nothing TO talk about!"

Vaggie: "Okay. But venting to smeone might make you feel better?"

Charlie: "...maybe."

Vaggie: "Good. That's all I care about."

Charlie: (melting) "Yeah?"

Vaggie: "Yep~"

Charlie: "All you care about huh..." (sulking) "What about the spear."

Vaggie: "Literally just a spear, babe." (smooches her again) "Have fun with this, Rosie!"

Vaggie: (leaves)

Rosie: "......"

Charlie: "......"

The spear: (is a spear)

Rosie: "....right then! For this I think, tea will NOT be precisely what we need!" (pulls out a bottle) "One shot, or two?"

Charlie: "Did you know she RUBS that thing with OIL every night?"

Roise: (smiling and nodding) "Five shots it is then~"

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #rosie hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #VERY incorrect XD #all the stresses in charlie's life #distilling down into a single passionate jealously #over a thing that is incapable of seducing her girlfriend #its a dumb idea #but i do love its so...

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bonnibuckets · 2 months

Text

RED FIGURES ! 18+

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

content. toxic reader, re2 leon in mind, mentions of readers abusive mom, degradation, sub!leon, dom!reader, pinching, slapping, biting, mentions of violence!! WC — 1K (half ass proofread)

synopsis. leon’s pretty face gets him in trouble

note. borders in pinned post! 🏷️ list— @ghostkennedy @adaelines @konigbabe @meowsiee @d34ng3l @redvleanli @rigorwhoring

Red was all you ever saw. A constant state of anger— maybe it was genetic because mommy was the same way. Her anger seeped into you creating a bitchy angry spiteful child who wasn’t afraid to bite, and fortunately for you, Leon didn’t mind being bitten. Mommy never spanked you, she’d pinch you whenever you acted out of line. It made you angry as a kid wanting to thrash, kick, scream, and bite, but mommy made sure you didn’t. Suppressing all that anger never did you any good, it bubbled up and boiled over like when you’d make food and forget about it and now it’s spilling over the pot. Mommy would get mad and pinch your ear and stomach real hard while yelling at you for being so useless. Hot tears and snot would stain your face as you tried to escape her grasp but it never worked.

That boiled-up anger got redirected towards everyone else, it always scared the boys away. They never liked how much of a spitfire you were. Maybe they were just fragile, that's what you told yourself at least. It had to be them because there was nothing wrong with you of course not. Leon only affirmed your belief, he’d come into your life broken and you fixed him right up. He clung to you like a cute puppy, it made you less angry and for the first time, you felt something more than anger. Leon knew about your “outbursts” he didn’t seem to mind too much, he would rationalize it in his head because of your past. He never held you accountable for the things you said or did, he took it like your personal punching back. Naturally, you were insecure, and having such a handsome face by your side didn’t help when other eyes looked at him. It angered you beyond belief and you truly didn’t know why, you chalked it up as normal because you had always felt angry and this wasn’t new.

Red was what you saw as a girl talked flirted with your Leon. “Yeah! Thank you so much” Her voice was gentle, her eyes kind, her skin soft, everything you weren’t. It was eating at you, you wanted to bite back. Gouge her eye out. Marching over pinching the fat of Leon’s arm “Hey” feigning a smile. “I didn’t know you had a friend” pinch. Shove her eyes down her throat. Leon’s face hid a wince— good boy. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.'' Her voice was thin. “Y-yea I do” his hand slithering around your waist. Staple her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Yea, he does” Fucking bitch you literally were around Leon almost 24/7 as if this cunt didn’t know. Of course, she knew she just wanted to test the waters. She wanted to take away Leon, the only person who made you feel normal. “Well, I better get going see you later Leon!” pinch. “Y-yea” pinch. Stab her jugular. Her figure disappears, pinch. “What the fuck” “I’m sorry-'' pinch. “No you aren’t” you spat walking away. You wanted to thrash, kick, scream, and bite something and you both knew Leon was going to be it.

—

Red was what Leon’s skin was scattered with— red welts. His wrist bound as you bounced on him— red all over his thighs and chest from pinching and biting him. His nipples were next on your list, “she was begging for your cock” his hips bucks into you. “N-no” he whines “You wanna fuck��r huh?” you laugh, bouncing harder. “No!” his eyes getting watery, rolling your hips as you pinch his nipple. He moans squirming trying not to cum, your fingers digging into his jaw as your lips ghost over his “If you like her so much go fuck her”. Hot tears roll down Leon's face as he tries to break free and touch you— he just wants to hold onto you like he normally did. Face in your tits sobbing for your forgiveness, poor pup couldn’t get his fix. “No” he hiccups “I-I only want y-you” awe what a loyal boy pinch. “Good boy” you kiss him smiling, his hungry lips try to suck you in for more.

You pinch him again “Calm down”, his breathing and movements were becoming unsteady as his stomach flexes. You could tell he was getting close from the way his eyebrows twitched “You're so pretty” you coe, “but so stupid” Your palm connects with his cheek as he cries out. He was so close and it made you laugh— you knew Leon couldn’t cum without you, you’d shape him to like this. He was so malleable, so easy to mold into whatever you wanted. You say jump and Leon would ask how high— you loved that about him. “Please” he sputters out “please” “heard you the first time” pinch. He was so cute like this, a babbling mess, it was sick that you got off to this but it was also just as sick that Leon could only get off like this. Pressure was building in your stomach as your clit was rubbing against Leon's pelvic bone. Dipping down your teeth sink into his neck— not hard enough to draw blood but enough to hurt. He cries out again as his hips buck up. Pervert. “I’m s-so close” he was so unbelievably fucking cute squirming and thrashing around trying not to cum “Almost” you breathe out sitting back up as your head falls back. The pressure rises as his moans egg you on. “good Leon'' you moan admiring your art— the marks all over his body. Your orgasm was so close to ripping through your body as your lips connect with the marks as you chase your release, slurring out “So cute Leon, such a good boy” before desperately breaking Leon's restraints— immediately he wraps his arms around you and jackhammers into you as you gasp and he sobs slamming into you simultaneously finishing together.

Heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard in the room as you both tried regulating your breath. Cum leaks out as you ease yourself off and roll over next to Leon. Yawning you pull his face into your chest and stroke his head “Don’t ever talk to her again or I’ll draw blood next time and paint the room with her brain matter” “Yes Ma’am” Such a good puppy he is.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy resident evil 2 #leon re2 #resident evil leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy re2 #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon smut #leon resident evil #sub leon kennedy

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tightjeansjavi · 5 months

Text

The Menu | Part 3

“a peggin’ a day keeps the doctor away”

A/N: grumpy, guard dog men like Joel Miller sometimes just need a cock up their ass, okay? Besides, he loves it. He told me so himself ;)

~word count: 5.3k~

pairing | dark!joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel has a request just for you. He wants you to fuck him with a strap on.

Warnings: smut, smut with little plot, dom/sub vibes, fingering (f receiving), anal play, strap on sex, handjob, oral to a dildo, unprotected p in v, possession, degradation, humiliation, some manipulation tactics on both sides, praise kink, possession, orgasm denial (male and female) cockslut, pretty girl, pretty boy, flirting, denial of feelings, some fluff and angst?? Mentions of drugs and smoking, teasing, flirting, gaslighting, insecurities, age gap, Joel is in his 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions such as skin color and body type, readers nickname is Angel, one minor mention of religion, +18, NSFW, minors dni!

What was supposed to simply be a one-time fuck, turned into a normal routine for you and Joel Miller. In fact, you had completely lost track of how many times you showed up at his apartment searching for that vice that only he could supply you. Or the amount of times you’d give him a handy in a back alley, or allow him to finger you under the same table that he would conduct his business. There was something so thrilling about the possibility of being caught while his long, thick fingers scissored your tight hole, and his thumb simultaneously rubbed expertly tight circles against your neglected pulsing clit.

His freehand was occupied with divvying up a baggy of pills, while the FEDRA officer counted out a stack of ration cards and paid no mind to what was possibly taking place under the table just a few inches away.

“I’ll need the baggy back.” Joel spoke gruffly as the heel of his palm completely encaged your bare cunt. His fingers that were buried deep inside of you were dripping in your juices. It was a miracle that none had leaked down the side of his hand.

“Sure. Sure.” The FEDRA officer responded in a monotone voice as he stuffed the baggy of pills into his pocket.

Joel gave him a tight nod that sent the officer on his way. When the door to his apartment finally closed, Joel turned towards you as he curled his thick digits inwards.

“Was that the FEDRA fuck that you slept with before I split ya in two, Angel?” He inquired with a raise of his brow, and a smirk crawling up his lips.

“Mhm.” You nearly mewled and reached for his bare forearm. You sunk your nails into his skin while your other hand was clenched tightly around the side of the chair. “Can I please come now, sir?” You nearly begged him as you gnawed on your lower lip.

“Nope.” He chastised.

“Jooeel.” You whined out of frustration as you tighten your grip around his forearm. Your nails created little crescent moons indentations in his tanned skin.

“You can ‘Jooeel’ me all you want, Angel.” He mocked you, “But y’dont come till I say y’can. Y’know the rules.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits while his shit eating grin only seemed to grow bigger.

So, yeah, you and Joel fucked a lot. You saw his brooding stature everywhere you turned as if he was a lurking shadow covering your footsteps. More like gum stuck to your shoe.

The most irritating part of it all was that somehow, someway, Joel Miller was always there to save your ass. Hell, he was even saving you in your dreams.

And as the months droned by, you were beginning to spend more time in his shitty apartment then your own. A dead giveaway was your backpack that was filled with a change of clothes, toothbrush, and a spare pistol that Joel had personally lent you was inconspicuously placed alongside his bed.

“Y’plannin’ on movin’ in or somethin’, Angel?” He gestured causally to the backpack while he was undoing his belt.

“What are you talkin’ about, Joel? Why the hell would I—” your words were muffled as you tore your shirt over your head in a haste.

You swore you heard him snicker as his chin turned towards the direction of your backpack. “Mmkay. S’then what do you call that?” He tugged his jeans down his thighs and kicked them off to the side.

“Call what?” You played dumb as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Okay, so maybe you did place it there on purpose.

“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb with me, Angel. That wasn’t there the last time you were here.” He grumbled under his breath and reached for your own jeans. He looped his thumbs through your jeans as he yanked you towards his chest. “What’s in there anyway. Your secret diary?” He said teasingly as his fingers moved swiftly to pop the button on your jeans and yank down the zipper.

“My secret diary? Really, Joel? I ain’t a teenager.” You scoffed and reached for the hem of his shirt.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re just a bratty little—”

“Slut.” You deadpanned.

“Correct, but c’mon, whad’ya got in there?” He pressed with obvious curiosity as he tugged your jeans down over your hips.

“A change of clothes, toothbrush, and the pistol you lent me.” You responded casually while you slipped your hand beneath his tight briefs, grasping him firmly as your thumb swiped across the tip of his cock. “Y’got a problem with that, Miller?”

His breath caught in his throat as he lurched forward into the palm of your hand. His lower lip caught between his teeth as he suppressed a grunt from slipping past his lips. “Nope. S’not a problem at all.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You muttered under your breath just as you felt his fingers brush against your chin and tilt it upwards. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw ticked. Tension filled silence engulfed his unadorned bedroom. His eyes flickered down to your lips in contemplation.

Your hand stilled against his hardening length as you stared directly into his eyes. “I thought you don’t think about kissing bratty little sluts like me, Joel.”

“I don’t.” He scoffed before dragging his thumb across your lower lip. His nose scrunched under your scrutiny at the thought of kissing you. He wouldn’t. He’d never, so then why was he leaning in?

“Guess you do now, huh?” Your words were soft in comparison to the way that you were looking at him. Eyes hungry and twinged with curiosity to see if he actually would do it.

“Shuddup.” He grumbled low. His lips brushed yours before you found yourself reaching for his jaw to pull him in closer. Soon enough he was licking hungrily into your mouth with only one thought on his mind; asserting his dominance over you.

Your fingers tangled through the soft curls at the back of his neck as you pressed his back right up against the wall. Your teeth sunk down into the flesh of his lower lip as he shoved his hand between your thighs. You were a mess of symphonic moans by the time he redirected you to the bed.

He loved when you were pliant with his desires, and you loved the way he took what belonged to him.

Sweat tangled limbs, a hint of laughter when he accidentally pulled his hips back a bit too far and slipped out of your sopping cunt. He apologized with his face buried between your supple breasts as you grasped the base of his cock and pulled him right back in. Nothing was off limits on his menu. Doggystyle, missionary, reverse cowgirl, (one of his personal favorites) neither of you really had any complaints with any of the positions you partook in. Somehow, someway, Joel just knew how to fuck you stupid in all of them.

You thought that by now the older man would be fucked out as he lay panting on his back. Beads of sweat shine like polished diamonds on his skin. His eyes are closed, lips parted as puffs of air slip past them. You’ve made your mark on his body tonight. Long, red scratches raised on the scarred skin on his back. Teeth marks littered across his chest like constellations. A lovebite to his jaw, right between the patches in his beard. Another under his ear and at the base of his throat.

He hisses between his teeth when he feels your lips dance across his hip bone, teeth scraping the sweat soaked skin. Your tongue darts between your swollen lips as you soothe the bite mark with an open mouthed kiss.

He hums in satisfaction. His arm reaches lazily towards the nightstand as he plucks up one of the cigarettes he freshly rolled this morning and places it between his lips.

His eyes lazily drift down to your face where your cheek is now resting along one of his strong thighs and your fingers are lightly tracing across his stomach creating random patterns along his skin.

Joel would never consider himself to be an intimate man by any means, but whatever this was, he liked it more than he was willing to admit.

He reached his arm out once more, snatching up the rusted lighter before igniting the flame against the unlit end of the cigarette. He shifted slightly as he deeply inhaled the tobacco smoke before exhaling towards the ceiling. “C’mere.” He rasped low and deep.

Your body worked on autopilot as you pulled yourself up towards his chest. You flopped down beside him with your cheek pressed against his chest, right where you could feel his steady heartbeat. His arm dropped to his side before wrapping around your frame. Joel Miller did not hold hands, but his fingers laced through the top of yours. The sheer size of his hand encasing yours completely. He took another long drag from the cigarette as the familiar stench of tobacco smoke and post-sex filtered through the air.

Your lashes fluttered as your fingers subconsciously squeezed his own. Your thigh came to lazily rest across his hip as your foot gently brushed across his softened cock that laid against his thigh. He grunted low from the feeling before he offered you the cigarette.

“Still can’t break that nasty habit I see.” He broke through the silence as his eyes watched the way your lips wrapped around the tip of the cigarette.

You inhaled before exhaling to the side. “Mm. Nope. Picked up another nasty one along the way.” You murmured soft and sweet as your lashes fluttered shut once more.

You felt his chuckle rumble from his chest and up his throat. He knew exactly what that other nasty habit was.

After he finished what was left of the cigarette and doused butt-end of it into the ashtray on his nightstand, you felt his lips ghost across your forehead in an intimate sweep. “Got somethin’ I wanna show ya, Angel.”

Your immediate response is to groan because the mere thought of moving sounded godawful. “Joel, c’mon. Can it wait, please? I’m real comfy right now.”

“Y’dont gotta move, baby. Y’just gotta lay there and look nice and pretty for me, kay?” His freehand came to rest around your calf as he hiked your thigh up higher. “Or, I can just slip right back on into your little fucked out hole if y’dont wanna cooperate with me.”

God dammit.

“But, you’re my pillow.” You huffed out of annoyance.

“Gross.” He quipped back before gently releasing you from his grip. His fingers slipped out of your grip before he was sitting up and forcing you out of your comfortable position.

Despite your soft protests, he swung his legs over the side of the bed before standing up. You got a front row view of just how much you really shredded up his back, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. “Come back to bed, Jooel.” You grumbled into his pillow as your foot kicked out at his bare ass playfully.

Before you could even make contact, his hand grabbed your ankle firmly like the way a snake strikes at an unsuspecting mouse. “Watch it.” He warned with a glare.

“You’re no fun.” You pouted with mock disappointment

“And you’re annoying.” He scoffed before releasing your ankle from his grasp.

“Asshole.” You muttered before rolling over so your back was facing him.

“Brat.”

You thought about reaching for your discarded panties from the floor as his footsteps faded down the hall. You never once spend the night for unspoken reasons. It was the apocalypse after all. What was the point of attachment if there was no guarantee of survival? Seemed like a waste of time and energy.

With a heavy sigh you dragged yourself to the edge of his mattress and scooped up your panties and shirt before sitting up along the comforter.

Joel’s footsteps paused in the doorway when he saw you slip your panties on over your ankles.

“Y’dont have to leave y’know.” He had his own backpack in his hand as he leaned against the doorjamb.

“No, but I should get out of your hair and go home.” Your back was still facing him as you slipped your shirt over your head with a sigh.

Yeah, but I don’t want you to leave.

“C’mon, Angel. Jus’ stay a little longer, alright? Still got somethin’ to show ya. Aren’t you a tad bit curious?”

“Alright, show me what it is that you gotta show me, Joel. And then I’m heading home.” You finally agreed before turning on the comforter to face him. Your legs were crossed like a pretzel as he joined you on the mattress once more.

“So, Tess and I went explorin’ the abandoned mall. Y’know, the one at the farthest part of the QZ?” He unzipped the backpack while he spoke.

“Yeah, the one that is all boarded up because y’know, you’re not supposed to go in there because it’s crawling with infected? What the hell were you—”

He cut you off with a stern warning look and a tight shake of his head. “It ain’t crawlin’ with infected. FEDRA pushed ‘em all out of the QZ years ago. Now, as I was sayin’, we were explorin’ the mall. Which, by the way, you’d be amazed to see how much shit was left behind.”

“Well, yeah. I mean I doubt people were grabbin’ dildos and lingerie at the end of the world, Joel.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, Angel. Aren’t you just one smart cookie?” He snorted under his breath.

“The smartest. Joel, you didn’t fuckin’ get me lingerie, did you? I swear to god—”

“Fuck no. Y’think I wanna be seein’ you in that crap? No way.”

Now I know exactly what I’m not getting her next time.

“Well, you don’t need to go and be a dick about it.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay, so you went to the mall and got what exactly? Just spit it out, Joel.”

“Y’really ain’t have one single patient bone in your body, huh?” He shook his head with a tight grin before he reached into the back. “Close your eyes for me.” He requested.

“Are you serious? Ugh, fine.” You decided to play along mostly because he looked pretty eager to show you whatever the hell was in his backpack. There was no harm in playing along.

Once he was satisfied that you weren’t going to peek, he shuffled around in the bag before pulling out a few items. One of the stores that was not raided at the end of the world was The Body Shop. It was stacked full of soaps, shampoos, and lotions. Shit was expensive, too. Joel couldn’t believe the amount of money that people would spend on this crap.

Tess made fun of him, of course as she watched him stuff his backpack with the fragrant soaps. “The hell do y’need all of that for, Texas? Are you trying to smell like a baby prostitute?

He glared at his female counterpart as he zipped his bag up. “It ain’t for me, Tess.”

“Alright, you can open your eyes now, Angel.”

You peeked your eyes open slowly because you really had no idea what the hell Joel Miller was about to show you. You raised a brow at the spread of body care products laid out on the bed. The older man looked pretty pleased with himself as he awaited your reaction.

“Soap? Oh, because you stink! Like, really though. How many times do you shower a day, Joel? Because seriously, you stink.” He really didn’t smell all that bad. But any opportunity you had to tease him a little, you pounced on it like a cat.

He was less than impressed. His jaw ticked and clenched as his eyes narrowed in on you. “I. Do. Not. Smell.” He enunciated every syllable to get the point across. “And they’re not for me, you idiot. They’re for you.” He grumbled in annoyance.

“For me?! Are you tryin’ to tell me that I smell Joel—”

“NO! You don’t smell—goddammit. I jus’ I don’t know! Thought maybe you’d appreciate some sweet smellin’ things in this shit hole! Is that so hard to believe?! He threw his hands up in the air exasperatingly. Before the outbreak happened he made no time in his personal life to get to know someone romantically. Between Sarah, Tommy, and his job, his hands were pretty full. That didn’t erase the fact that Joel was a natural giver.

“So, you got me soap and body care stuff just because..you felt like it?” You finally met his gaze. The gesture was sweet, there was no denying that.

“Yeah. Just because I felt like it. Sure.” His response falls flat as his fingers twitch at his sides. Maybe this was stupid. Soap? Really, Joel? He can feel his anger begin to bubble and simmer in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t even really sure why he’s allowing your words to affect him this much. Who the fuck cares? You were nothing to him. Just a tight wet hole for him to occasionally stick his dick in.There was nothing else going on between you and him. It was strictly just sex.

So, if that were the case, why did it hurt?

“Joel, hey man, c’mon. I’m just fuckin’ with ya.” You lightly joke as a way to bring him back down to earth.

You try to peel back the layers of tension that are creeping in. This is exactly the reason why you were planning on leaving in the first place. You couldn’t handle the complications that came with sleeping with someone this frequently. Someone in the end would always get hurt inevitably.

“If you’re gonna ditch me, then just fuckin’ ditch me already. Don’t hold your breath, Angel. Jus’ do it.” He snaps under his breath. Feeling that bubble of anger begin to morph into something more.

“What the hell is your problem, Joel? You’re so hot and cold.” You fight the urge to scoff.

The muscles lining his back and shoulders clench. You can see them flexing under the lowlight from the table side lamp that occasionally flickers. His mouth quirks, but he doesn’t smile, he grimaces.

“And you ain’t?! It’s just me? Right, cause you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He snarls, and you’ve had enough.

“Oh, absolutely not. I am not going to get into a screaming match with you right now, Miller. You know how fuckin’ pointless that is?! For fuck sakes. Are we really about to do this right now?!” Your hands rest around your hips as you shoot daggers with your eyes at the side of his face. You’re unknowingly taking the bait that he constructively laid out for you.

His nostrils flare as he lets out a heavy exhale. “So, then put me in my fuckin’ place. C’mon. You have it in ya, don’t ya Angel?”

“What the fuck are you—”

He turned to face you. His grimace turned into his classic Joel Miller smirk. His brow cocked as he watched your brain process right before his eyes exactly what he was insinuating.

“Y’heard me, Angel. I want you to fuck me.”

The tension in the room was palpable. It was as if a thick fog of lust saturated itself into your skin. You visibly swallowed the nerves that were bubbling in your throat. Joel’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes drifted down to your lips just as they parted.

“You want me to put you in your place by..fucking you? Well, with what exactly? I know you’ve got your kinks and all, Joel. But I sure as hell am not shoving my fingers up your ass. Why don’t you ask Tess—”

His hand reached out suddenly, fingers grasping your chin in a tight grip. “I don’t want Tess to do it, Angel. I want you, my sweet, filthy girl. Don’tcha want to hold some power over me? C’mon. Ain’t that what you desire? To get back at me? To hold me at your mercy?”

You could feel the heat begin to rise in your cheeks as you struggled to tear your gaze away from his searing one. Sure, Joel could have easily gone to Tess to fill that itch he was feeling, but no. He wanted you to be the one to satiate his needs.

“O-okay, but like I said, I’m not sticking a fucking finger up your ass, Joel. That’s where I’m drawing my line.”

“My sweet, I never said anything about you havin’ to stick your fingers up my ass. Listenin’ ears, Angel. Use ‘em. Do you really think I risked my skin goin’ to that mall with Tess just for some measly soap products?” He questioned.

Ah, there he is again.

“Frankly, I still don’t understand why the hell you’d do something as fucking stupid as that.”

“Course you don’t, Angel. That’s ‘cause you ain’t me. Why would you think about upholding my own desires?” He tuts before reaching back into his backpack.

“Lucky for you, the mall has more than just perfumey soaps to offer. Conveniently, there was sex shop that was fully stacked. Guess people weren’t thinkin’ about needin’ lube and condoms durin’ an apocalypse, eh?”

“You didn’t.” Did he really bring home—

“Oh,” he chuckled, “but I did.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of Joel pulling out a strap-on with an extremely pink, sparkly silicone dildo on the end of it. The dildo itself was average in size, but you couldn’t help the pleasurable tingle rolling down your spine at mental images of Joel Miller on his hands and knees just for his Angel.

“Get on your knees.” Your thoughts were brazen, running wild as you yanked the strap-on from his grasp before discarding your flimsy panties in a haste. Joel Miller was about to become your little cockslut, and he had no idea.

“Now, hol’ on jus’ a minute there. Let’s not—”

You cut him off swiftly with a second demand. “On your knees now, Joel. Don’t make me ask a third time.”

His cock betrayed his grasping for control as it twitched against his thigh from your demanding words alone. He didn’t dare defy you as he slowly sank down from the comforter and onto his knees.

You never felt a power quite like this until you had Joel fucking Miller on his knees for you. You were going to drag this out for as long as possible, that was for damn sure.

“There’s lube in the—”

You shook your head to the side with a smirk crawling up your lips. Your entire body was vibrating with suspense. Excitement. The nerves had dissipated as you stood above him with the velcro straps now secure around your hips.

“Nuh-uh. We don’t need lube when you have a perfectly cable mouth for me to use. You’re gonna suck on my cock and get it all nice and wet for me, pretty boy.”

Joel nearly whimpered through his gritted teeth as the blood flow in his body trailed downwards. The second he heard you call him “pretty boy,” his tip weeped a bead of precum. Oh, he really wanted to be put in his place.

When he went to wrap his hand around the base of the silicone dildo, you slapped it away with a warning glare. “No hands. Just your mouth.”

He retracted, recoiling like a snake as he instinctively brought his arms behind his back.

“Yes ma’am.” He complied graciously.

“Good boy. Now, c’mon. Get to work, Joel. It ain’t gonna suck itself, remember?” You questioned as he scooted himself closer to situate himself between your thighs. You could feel his hot breath fanning your skin as his big brown eyes flitted upwards to meet your gaze. He had never looked more beautiful than he did right now. Even more so when he obediently wrapped his plush, pink lips around the head of the dildo.

His tongue dragged along the underside of the shaft as he blew out a puff of air through his nose. His actions had you thinking that maybe this wasn’t his first time.

He let out a tiny whimper of unabashed appreciation when your hand slid down to his hair, gripping the tendrils firmly, nails scratching his scalp.

“C’mon, pretty boy. Somethin’ tells me that you can take a bit more than that. I want to see you gag on it.” You crooned before yanking his head upwards with one swift tug.

A hum vibrated up his throat from the pleasure mixed with pain. He relaxed his jaw as a bit of drool ran down the side of his mouth. Tears soon brimmed his waterline and leaked down his cheekbones. His eyes never left yours as little gagged whimpers slipped out when the tip of the dildo hit the back of his throat.

“That’s it. That’s my good, pretty boy. Such a little cockslut you are, hm? So pretty, gagging on my cock like this.” You pressed your hips forward as his nose brushed against your pubic bone. He hollowed his cheeks, creating a vacuum with his lips as he bobbed his head.

You were soaked. Absolutely dripping between your thighs at the little sounds he was making. His whimpers, his tears in those big brown doe like eyes.

You slipped out suddenly, watching the string of saliva that connected from the tip of the cock to his wet, glistening lips.

You bent down to his level, grasping his chin between your fingers before you kissed him deeply, licking into his mouth as he let you have full control.

“On the bed, pretty boy.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Y’gonna fuck me now, Angel? Gonna fill me up with your cock?” He mumbled into the kiss. He wasn’t quite ready to detach from the embrace, but you left him with no choice in the matter as you pulled away. With a loving slap to his cheek you pointed in the direction of the bed.

He was like an obedient dog on a leash as he pulled himself up from the floor and sauntered over to the mattress.

“On all fours, pretty boy.”

He loved the feeling of humiliation just as much as he loved the carnal need to own you. He loved that he could openly explore his desires with someone who was just as filthy as he was. That’s why you were perfect for him, after all. Not just a sweet little Angel, but a devil between the sheets. He could see your two little red horns popping up from your brain cavity now to match his own. Hell had room for two more sinners.

You were kind enough to grab the bottle of lube from his backpack as he situated himself on all fours with his back slightly arched.

“M’ready for you, Angel.” He rasped deeply as he felt the mattress dip and faintly squeak from your knees pressing down on it.

He lurched forward from the familiar cooling sensation of the lube being poured over his puckering hole, followed by your warm fingers rubbing it in generously.

“Gonna fuck you now, pretty boy. You’re gonna take every inch of my cock like the good little cockslut that you are. I know you can be a good boy for me, Joel. You want to be good, right?”

“Mmhmmph.” He pushed his ass back towards your hips as he pressed his cheek into the scratchy fabric of his pillow. Someone was mighty impatient. “I wanna be a good boy for you, Angel. I wanna make you so proud.” His voice was muffled, but you could still make out every word.

“That’s right, pretty boy. All you want to do is be good and make me proud.” You squirted a bit more lube around the dildo and his tight hole.

The seconds seemed to tick by before he finally felt the familiar stretch that sent his heavy cock twitching between his thighs. As you sunk further into his warmth, the more Joel had begun to unfold.

“Fuuuck.” He whimpered pathetically into the pillow when you had completely bottomed out.

“Please move, Angel. Please. Please. Please.” He begged with a wanton moan as he wiggled his ass back against your hips. He was on the verge of desperation and you couldn’t get enough of it.

You pulled your hips back slightly, before thrusting them forward. His cheek was pressed deeper into the pillow with each heavy calculated thrust that you gave him.

He liked the feeling of your breasts pressed against his back and the way that you seemed to encase him the same way that he did. His moans were strangled as he chased after that high.

He hoped that all of his neighbors could hear just how good you were making him feel.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ come without my say, pretty boy. You hold it in for as long as I tell you too, you got that?” Your lips were at the shell of his ear where you could literally feel his pulse point skyrocket.

“Angel, Please. Please. I’m so c-close! Please, let your pretty boy come!” He cried out.

“No.” He could feel your devious little smirk against his skin. The skin of his knuckles turned stark white the second you had slipped out. He could have pounded his fists into the mattress, but you were quicker than that as you grabbed ahold of his hands and forced him onto his back.

His skin was red hot, slick with sweat as his eyes locked on yours. His brows were furrowed tightly together. His cock was painfully hard and desperate for release.

“I want to see your face when you come, pretty boy. I wanna see all of it.”

Not one single shred of rational thought could be seen in his darkened irises as you grasped a hold of his strong thighs and bent them towards his chest before you slipped right back into his fucked out hole.

As you ground your hips forward into his ass, you spit into your hand before wrapping it around the base of his cock, giving it quick tugs as he threw his head back against the pillows. The prominent veins in his neck visibly protruded against his sweat stained skin. A mixture of slurs and profanities tumbled past his lips as he thrusted his hips into your hand.

white hot pleasure coursed through his veins as your freehand wrapped around his throat, pushing him further into the mattress.

You owned him entirely. More than he even had begun to realize.

“Come for me, pretty boy.” You demanded.

He crumbled in an instant as his thighs quivered and tensed followed by hot ropes of cum shooting from his tip. He painted his stomach in his release as you squeezed out every last drop he had to offer. Before he even had a chance to breathe, your mouth was around him in an instant, licking up the salty musky flavor along his skin.

His breaths came out in a labored wheeze as he went off into his own little post-orgasm world. His eyes fluttered shut as your warm mouth enveloped his softened cock deliciously.

It was only when you moved your head back to slip him out, did his dominance return from the haze.

“Daddy’s tired, Angel. Why don’t you keep it in your mouth for me, baby. Keep it nice and warm for your good pretty boy.” He rasped.

Even through your glare at his request, you could see the lazy, relaxed smile grace his features when you reluctantly obeyed.

His hand reached down to gently hold your face in his palm. His thumb stroked against your cheekbone lovingly.

“That’s my good pretty girl.”

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cinnamonest · 10 months

Text

Yandere Profile - Kaveh

Happy birthday baby boy. Angel. Blessed boy. I want to hold his face in my hands and squish. I love a man that's just a lil bit pathetic, as all men should be. If I can't occasionally point at a man and laugh what's even the point

(Also I added a question to the list that I'll be using in all future profiles as well ^_^)

//dubcon/noncon, yandere, fem reader, manipulative behavior, n/s/fw section + implications/mentions of not sfw throughout

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Kaveh falls head over heels, face-first, and he tries so, so hard. It's pitiful, really.

He's somewhat on the milder side in terms of what he'll actually do to you and others, provided you comply with him and don't give him reasons to become worse. He's just... very, very intense. In lots of ways, he's a very ideal partner to have, so much so that there's a very good chance you'll end up together of your own volition, making him more of an over-attached boyfriend than a stalker from a distance.

At the very least, even if not a romantic partnership, he will surely become an active part of your life very quickly. Which you likely won't mind, given his pleasant disposition and empathetic nature. What's not to like? Compared to a roster full of individuals ranging anywhere from unhinged and violent to cold or cruel to prideful and infuriating, Kaveh feels like a breath of fresh air. He's considerate, he's empathetic, he really likes making you happy. He recognizes his feelings very early on and has no trouble understanding them, so there's not a lot of time that passes between meeting you and trying to get closer to you. It doesn't take a lot to get him infatuated, either, namely just showing him some kindness.

A waitress or bartender that he sees regularly that's always sweet to him, a stranger that calls out to him to give him something he dropped, a former classmate he still sees around sometimes, pretty much anything, he just latches on to any gesture or display of kindness or affection. Kaveh has the same vibe as a stray cat -- you feed it once, and watch it come back again and again until it just decides to permanently stick around you, only he feeds off of smiles and nice words and gestures. He's always conveniently showing up where you are, trying to brush it off as if he's surprised to see you there.

And again, it's head over heels, boy is in love, the sort of love where he's going around in this smiling daze all the time, mind off somewhere else to the point that he hmm?'s every time someone is trying to talk to him. He asks around about you to people who know you, starts showing up a short ways outside your door and greeting you in the mornings (you never told him where you live, though), starts making small mistakes in his work that he has to go back and fix because his mind was preoccupied with you. He also starts following you around a bit, just to a degree that he feels is still normal. He's not, like, some creep or anything.

Which is how he rationalizes things to himself -- he's well aware of his own feelings, yes, and he's not really a full-blown delusional type per se, but he does have a tendency to rationalize abnormal actions to himself, convince himself that certain things he does are okay or normal or reasonable when they very much are not. Or sometimes, he can acknowledge something is in fact not normal or okay, but he lies to himself that it's just this once and he won't do it again (he will), that everyone makes poor decisions or does some not-so-good things every now and then, or that he's doing what he does for good reasons, which justifies the action itself. It's a specific sort of delusion wherein he maintains lucidity and objective perception of everything else -- he doesn't think that everyone else who likes you is actually super evil and has malicious intent if they clearly don't, nor does he convince himself that you must love him, or anything like that -- it's limited to rationalizing his own actions.

And even then, it's fairly weak, not so much true delusion, because in the back of his mind, he doesn't actually believe it, it's just what he tells himself for a time to feel better about what he does. Even so, it can't last forever, and eventually he gives up and just has to live with the guilt. Thus, it gradually progresses to following you more and more, taking some things that won't be missed, and maybe he might or might not have climbed into your room and laid on your bed for a while because you left the window unlocked. Which is bad, but he won't do it again, it was just a one-time thing, really.

While he does rationalize acts he knows are considered "bad," he also engages in other behaviors he isn't quite as self-aware of, including both clingy tendencies as well as other behaviors that aren't noticed by anyone else, but he fails to stop and realize how abnormal and unwell said behaviors are. For the clinginess aspect, the closer to you he gets, the more comfortable he gets with complaining about his frustrations and stressors onto you, and frankly, he can get a bit whiny. It's not intentional, it's just that he doesn't have a lot of outlets, and he's under so much stress and you're so nice to him and you don't stop him from drinking so he just starts to go on and on and on, eventually leaning over onto you as he continues on about his woes. Sometimes for very long periods of time, if you don't stop him. He likes the attention and sympathy you never fail to give him.

Which tends to happen a lot anyway, since you notice the poor thing seems rather prone to misfortune and mishap, at least whenever you see him. There was that time he showed up to you all scraped up, forearms covered in little cuts because of, when you inquired, apparently helping that traveler friend of his fight some common criminals as part of some mission or another. He didn't bother to take care of the wounds in any way, seeing as they were fairly minor, but you started fussing about infections and insisted he come over and sit down and let you wrap them up and treat it to the best of your ability.

You poor thing, you said. He can recall the softness and concern in your voice. You said something about how he should be more careful, that he could come back to you if he got hurt again, that he must be rather brave and strong to get into fights like that. He doesn't remember all the exact words due to the dizzy fuzzy warm feeling all over. You only recall that he started to show up to your home within a few days with significantly worse wounds, which you once again worried and fretted over and tended to for his sake. It becomes something of a routine. You think to yourself that it's sweet that he smiles the whole time despite being hurt. You assume it's forced so as to not make you worry more.

Also, Kaveh has a drive to learn about the things he likes, more intensely so than the average person. He's been academically successful for a variety of reasons, such as being both naturally suited for at and passionate about his craft, but also possessing the general ability to intake, retain, understand, and apply information. And when it comes to you, he undergoes an experience very much akin to how he used to discover some area of special interest in his field while studying, he'd come across and become fascinated by a certain style or era of architecture or the like, and spend days on end absorbing information on it.

Similarly, he feels a compulsion to know you, to learn everything he can in relevance to you. He takes any available avenues to do so, be it from others, from quietly observing you and your behaviors and habits, normal things... and maybe some more intrusive things. It can't be that private of a conversation, since you know he's supposed to be in the other room, so it can't be that big of a deal if he just quietly shuffles his way over and puts his ear to the door, just to listen in on who you're talking to. And if you wrote things that were really that private or secret, you wouldn't leave your journal sitting right there on your desk, you'd hide it away somewhere, so it can't be that bad to read it.

Regardless of those more secretive behaviors, his outward, non-secretive behaviors are a lot more obvious than he realizes, so much so that you're not at all surprised when he finally does muster up the courage to say something to you. He's also rather nervous and consequently awkward, at least when sober. He's like a little schoolboy trying to confess to a playground crush, stumbles over his words, lots of nervous smiling.

Still, you're fairly inclined to accept. He's always been so sweet, he's pretty, you see no reason not to, and he seems positively elated when you agree. The poor thing is in such a daze that he walks headfirst into a lamppost after walking you home and parting for the night (you laughed, but you still ran over to help him back up). Sure, he's a bit clingy, that much is already obvious, but you figure he'll calm down at least a little bit once you start seeing each other more.

That, however, turns out to not be the case. Quite the opposite.

The most noticeable behavior from the get-go is that he is almost a bit too attached, and he develops a bit of a dependency very quickly. Now, it's more acceptable for him to know where you are and be around you and all that, so he makes sure to do so at every opportunity. To an even greater degree than before, which turns out to be somehow possible. He moves very very fast, in terms of a relationship. You've heard the phrase I love you within a few days, he wants to move in together within no time, he's spending what little extra money he has on you at every opportunity from the get-go. Sure, there's a "honeymoon phase" where it's normal to be super clingy to each other, but it quickly becomes clear his is not dying down any time soon.

And he cares about you so much, so it's okay for him to want to know where you are if he can't find you, to get a bit upset and frustrated with you when you disappear for fifteen minutes because you went to the store to pick up something and didn't tell him (or, ideally, take him with you). Which you can dismiss and blow off as him just being stressed or anxious once or twice, but it soon becomes clear you can't so much as leave his line of sight for a few minutes without him going to look for you.

Then starts the isolation from others. Sure, you could go out with your friends, but he forgot you had that planned and may or may not have gotten takeout for both of you, so you can miss it this once, right? And then the next time, it's that it's just that you all are planning to meet so late at night, and he doesn't feel comfortable with that kind of risk... so on and so on. You soon realize you haven't spent time with anyone else in quite some time. Whenever you do talk to someone, he always wants to know who they are and what you talked about. He doesn't demand to know, or sound angry or anything, he just... asks. Just out of curiosity, you know.

He just wants to be with you, spend time with you, talk to you, be involved in the little aspects of your daily life. It's just that that means... everything. All the time. Every single second of every single day. Even the phrase "every waking second" doesn't quite cover it, because he'll be there every second of your sleep as well, clinging to you tightly. He wants to be there when you wake up, and when you get ready in the mornings, and when you walk to your daily routine of work or school or whatever, and he'll linger and talk and talk until the last possible second, until you remind him for a third time that you're both going to be late if you don't go your separate ways, where he'll finally relent and wish you a good day. Then he starts to make sure he gets to eat lunch at the same time as you, so you see each other then too! And then he's right there to greet you as you leave for the day, and then you can walk home, and then he'll be there the whole evening, clinging to you both emotionally and physically, talking and cuddling and staying right there by your side, and then he'll ask if he can stay over for the night as he always does these days, and then you'll go to bed and he won't leave your side all night long. And of course, he'll bring up the idea of moving in with you yet again, that he could pitch in for the rent and it would save you both money, and you'll give a vague non-answer because you're not quite ready for that but don't want to hurt his feelings, deflect and try to change topics again. And then the cycle repeats.

Day after day. Without relent. Endlessly. To say it's starting to affect you psychologically would be an understatement.

Of course, with all the unfavorable aspects combined, you might just start to think that maybe you made a mistake, maybe you should think about suggesting you take a break...

Except he seems to kind of sense that. Even if it's just subconscious, he sort of detects your body language and recent behaviors and realizes something has you unhappy or discontent or just distant from him. It makes him feel this awful pit of dread in his stomach, the mere notion makes him sick. You wouldn't ever leave him, though, would you?

He was already attached to you beforehand, but now, his entire happiness and sense of purpose depends on you. You become his entire world, the only thing that really matters. The only thing he really thinks about or cares about. If, for whatever reason, you were to suddenly disappear from his life... well, then he would have nothing left. His passion for his work alone can't keep him going, now that he's had a taste of the euphoric feeling of such intense emotion towards someone. Nothing else will ever compare. You wouldn't do that to him.

But just in case. Whenever he gets this feeling like you're getting distant or like you're going to soon tell him something he doesn't want to hear, he makes sure that he has something prepared to prevent the worst. Expensive gifts he scraped enough together for, planning some big night that will make you happy, doing some significant act of service or favor for you. Something that wins over your favor, makes sure you remember you love him and don't ever think of leaving him. Or maybe even just holding you close and reminding you that you're everything to him, that he needs you, that he wouldn't know how to keep going if he didn't have you. Just to make sure you know how much you'd hurt him, how awful you would be, if you ever got any ideas about not needing him as much as he needs you.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Kidnapping is something that would only ever be a last resort. Kaveh ideally wants something very close to a normal relationship. In his mind, what he wants is a normal relationship, he's just... maybe a bit clingier and more protective than most. But otherwise, he's very normal!

Nothing unusual, he just wants to... move in together. Get a place together that he can pay part of (eventually he'll make enough to pay for it all by himself, so he promises). Or you can even just move in with him where he is now! It'll be, uh, awkward, but Alhaitham will probably be okay with it. You've already spent a lot of nights there, and he's only told Kaveh to go over to your place instead so he can 'get at least one night without having to sleep with earpieces in for once, you do realize I can hear literally everyth--' well, anyway, he's only been driven to the point of saying that a handful of times, so as long as you're careful with the, uh, timing, it should be fine.

The whole moving in together thing does get sprung on you very fast, like, a matter of maybe a week at minimum. A bit too fast, so you can gently put him down and try to hold off for a while, but he'll take the first opportunity you allow, and with enough pushing, you're bound to agree eventually.

Which makes him very happy. Now he can be around you that much more.

He does have some ideas, though, to gently suggest to you, on your future and how the relationship should work and all that. He saves up enough to decide that you don't need to work or have a job, you can stay at home and take care of domestic stuff and not have to worry about ever leaving. Oh, well, you can leave to get groceries and stuff, just... don't go by yourself, okay? Let him go with you. That way you'll never have to be alone outside without him, that's all. You know, he read this headline on a public news board the other day, said pickpocketing and theft in the area has been rising, so you know, just to be safe, you never know who's out there. Best to just not go out in public alone. And if you really do have to go meet someone or get something alone, just be sure to let him know. In fact, here's a fun idea, how about each morning you give him an hour-by-hour plan of what you anticipate doing that day? Just so he can have an idea of where you'll be, just for safety's sake. And be sure to be there at this and that time, since he'll use his breaks to come back and check on you, and he would get really worried if you weren't exactly where he anticipates you to be, you know?

As long as you can mutually agree to be safe by following those little guidelines, everything will be fine, he won't have any reason to worry, and he'll be content. Should you disregard his suggestions, though, he might get a bit more paranoid. Check on you more often. Try to talk it out, just let you know that, hey, he would really appreciate it if you could do like he asked you to and stick to the plan, he just worries about you is all. You understand that, don't you? He'll have to continuously bring it up the more you deviate from that plan, and maybe he'll have to, in is own words, 'get a bit annoying about it, haha...'

There is, however, one way that could potentially get you truly imprisoned in the classic obsessive-lover sense: attempting to go through with those thoughts of yours about leaving him.

You don't actually get to finish your spiel, when you try to bring it up and lay it on him as gently as possible. It's very obvious where you're headed, what you're about to say, so there's no need to let you finish talking, to make it all too real and actually be forced to hear the words he'd rather not. You can already see his face fall, his eyes get wide. It's... it's actually kind of creepy, unnerving and unsettling in a visceral way, a way that sends a genuine chill down your spine, like some instinct telling you something is very, very wrong. You find yourself trailing off and going quiet before you can even get the words out.

You instinctively take a step back when he moves towards you, but he's faster. Locks his hands around your wrists with a crushing grip. His face is completely blank, pupils small from having widened eyes.

You don't... you don't mean that.

HIs voice is eerily quiet and soft. You try to pull back, but his grip is unrelenting. You say something else, but he acts as if he doesn't hear you. Pulls you along as he starts to walk. Doesn't respond when you ask what he's doing. You feel a sense of alarm growing heavier in your chest. He pulls you into your shared bedroom.

I think we both need to just calm down for a while.

His voice is still ominously quiet, devoid of emotion. You try to step back, but he pulls you forward again. Lays down, takes you with him. Holds you tight, runs a hand up and down your back, slow soothing motions, totally silent. A moment ago you were trying to end things, but you suddenly feel very, very nervous at the thought of saying anything further, some instinct telling you that trying to break away or insist on leaving would be a very, very bad idea. You don't like the thought of that, the implications of the fact that you're pretty sure it's your innate danger and self-preservation instincts telling you to stay quiet. You find yourself trembling in his hold.

And after a while like that, he finally says something.

I really love you.

You know what the appropriate response is. Even if you're filled with resentment and irritation, those same self-preservation instincts force out the correct response. He sighs when you say it, like he was afraid of hearing something else.

I'm... glad. See, we just needed to relax for a moment. That's all.

And when he stands up, smiling again, you think the moment is over, that the eye-opening momentary episode of whatever the hell that was is done and you can escape. But then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed.

I think... you need to stay in here for now. I'll be back in just a little while with some food, okay?

Once more, the instincts tell you not to resist, at least not now. O-oh, uh... okay...

He hums in response and smiles, and for a moment, you think everything is fine now, that maybe he's just emotional and in a bad state of mind, maybe he'll come back and apologize, maybe he'll finally agree that this isn't working out and wish you the best... but when he shuts the door and you hear the distinct sound of heavy furniture scraping against the floor as something is pushed in front of the door, a sinking feeling of dread swells in your stomach. Another instinct, somehow even worse than your prior fear, tells you you won't be leaving this room for a long time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Because he doesn't really want to restrain you much in the first place, the only thing really holding you in any given place, at least initially, is his gentle suggestions on where you should or shouldn't be, and specifically some very strong urging to stay away from certain places or people. Really, the biggest hurdle is his presence, seeing as he clings to you so much, it's hard to get away, and he'll do everything in his power to stop you from leaving if he's right there, namely standing in between you and your path, trying to change the subject or stuttering to find something to say to distract you and deter you from leaving.

Should you try to slip away and get a little bit of time to yourself, it probably won't last long. Firstly, he notices your absence near-immediately, and seems to have some innate ability to find you, like a bloodhound or something. You didn't give him any hints or implications as to where you'd be going, yet somehow he manages to show up there as his first guess of places to look...? The only possibility that actually makes sense is that he's obsessively learned your own mental process tendencies to such a degree that he was able to predict your own conscious choices, which frankly terrifies you in its own way, so you choose to believe it's coincidence.

He always calms down once he does find you, but he stays quiet as you head home (he insists you go home right now, and the unusual, almost out of character intensity to the command makes you nervous enough to comply). Once home, he'll go through his usual cycle of being cold and quiet, then expressing his feelings all in one frustrated rant. Holds onto you, buries his face in the crook of your neck.

This is where one of his talents comes in -- albeit largely a subconscious behavior, he's masterful at guilt-tripping. Keeps talking about how he was so worried, how he doesn't understand why you want to hurt him like this, he cares so much about you and it feels like that means nothing to you, on and on it goes. Any irritation on your part is met with more and more guilt-tripping, sucking you down until you can't be mad or express your own frustrations that led to this for long because come on, look at him, he's looking like a wounded puppy and talking about how much he loves you, how can you be so mean? It's not asking a lot, is it? Are you really mad that he cares so much about you...?

No? Now you sigh and shake your head and get out something about how you're sorry, but-- You don't get to finish the sentence, though. He's already wrapped his arms around you, smiling and assuring you he'll try to be around more so he can take you wherever. Just... don't do this to him again, okay? The way he grips your shoulders like he's trying to break them when he says it makes you inclined to stutter out an agreement out of impulse, even if you regret saying it a moment later.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

It's easy enough on a purely practical level, but honestly, it's hard to not feel guilty for doing so, given how sincere and loving he is. He's pretty gullible, it's not hard to fool him. He'll just get really sad once he realizes you did, in fact, lie to him. Or, if you lie about something like where you'll be or what you'll be doing because you didn't want him to get all worried and paranoid (such as going out with friends, which always makes him very paranoid), he gets nervous. If it's bad enough, it might be one of the few occasions where he really raises his voice and gets upset, asking you what you were thinking and why you didn't listen to him, why you couldn't just talk it out, and so on. But his anger very quickly gives way to being rather hurt and bitter, resulting in him isolating himself and sulking for some time. He takes a few days to get over the sense of betrayal, but his recovery is expedited if you try to make it up to him or apologize for it. Apologizing is especially a wise move -- even though he tries to be understanding and often tries to agree to whatever you want to make you happy, when it comes to things like this, where it's a matter of your wellbeing or a moral issue, he really toughens up and becomes much more firm in his resolve, even stubborn, when it comes to things of that nature.

And as easy as lying to him is, manipulating him is even easier, you barely have to try. Just give him a little bit of affection and talk to him in a sweet cooing voice, and he'd walk off a cliff if you asked him to. You hold a lot of power in your hands. If you end up abusing it enough, he'll eventually realize he's being manipulated... but even then, he can't bring himself to stop. He just loves you so much, he lives for the high he gets from hearing you thank him and hug him and kiss him for doing things for you. You can even convince him to do morally bad things for you, if you push him enough, although he'll be sullen and sad afterwards, so if you have a heart, try not to abuse this power.

And another thing. The moment sex is involved, he becomes somehow even more manipulable than he already was. An inch of bare skin or a few sweet suggestive words in a sultry voice will have him going red in the face before bending over backwards to do whatever you want and performing requested tasks at the speed of light, often without even thinking through what it is he's been roped into doing. It's rather cute and amusing, really. Again, please be careful with the power you hold.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He would like to allow you to do anything you want -- and he'd never force you to not do something you want, of course! -- but obviously, anyone who cares for someone has certain limits and boundaries, which are there because of love for someone. After all, if you love someone, you won't let them do something reckless and stupid or dangerous. If anything, allowing someone to do whatever without regard for safety would indicate apathy. That's why it's understandable -- you should be glad, even -- that he's very conscious of your well-being and risks thereof.

You can do pretty much anything, so long as it's inside. He'll spend whatever he has buying you anything you want to do, supports any non-dangerous hobbies. It's just... you can't go outside, not without him at least. He'll gladly take you anywhere you want as long as it's when he has free time, though! Just... just abide by this one simple request, please? That's the only thing he takes an issue with. You can dress however you want, act however you want, do whatever you want. He just doesn't want you putting yourself at risk is all.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Again, it's pretty much entirely about staying inside and not going out, and he would really appreciate you do that one thing for him. It's not asking a lot, right? Well, then there's all the checkups throughout the day and insistence on communication, but that all ties back to the same main rule. But to be honest, he really doesn't like thinking of it as a "rule," that word has this... authoritative, controlling connotation to it that he really doesn't like. It makes him feel guilty to think of it like that, like he's doing something wrong. He'd be really hurt if you referred to it that way.

Likewise, punishing you for not following something you both agreed to sounds a bit harsh. He'll try to talk with you about it, of course, communication and mutual understanding is important, and the key to a happy relationship. The only issue is you might not come to that mutual understanding. But even if you don't agree, he can't just let you do as you please, and put yourself in danger, as well as give him constant anxiety. If you can't seem to reach an understanding, he might just have to get an extra lock from the outside. You may call that unnecessary or absurd, but he's very insistent, and if confronted on it, will get huffy and cross his arms, say something about how it's incredible you're getting mad about him caring about you. He's good at overdramatizing like that to deflect from his own actions, to sort of shift the blame onto you. The more you try to bring it up, the more he'll talk over you, keep distracting and refuse to acknowledge the actual problem.

While he also doesn't call it a rule either, he also is really insistent that you communicate. He gets very paranoid if you won't talk to him, if you try to give him silent treatment or something like that. So if you pull this behavior a few times, he'll try to sit down and have a talk with you about how communicating is very important, and how when you refuse to speak to him it makes him really really nervous and he feels so sick to his stomach and his mind assumes the worst and the paranoia eats away at him and... well, just, can you both maybe agree to not do that? That when you're upset, you'll just tell him you are and why? Please?

He'll be very relieved if you agree, but do note that in practice, this rule actually only applies to you. He, on the other hand, will very commonly get quiet and refuse to elaborate on why he's upset without coaxing. But he tells you eventually once you give him the attention he wants, so, it counts as compliance with the agreement, in his mind.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaveh would strongly prefer to avoid homicide if at all possible, and will go to great lengths to avoid it. He's not a particularly confrontational or aggressive person at all. He's also self-aware enough to know that starting any actual up-front conflict with someone else would just be embarrassing himself, and you as well.

It's not as if there isn't a brief second where the thought does cross his mind, though. That it would be so much easier to deal with everything if he could just permanently get rid of someone.

But he's just not that sort of person. He's rational and empathetic, he's not the sort of obsessed that will convince himself the other person is committing a transgression worthy of death just by liking you. He knows that killing them would be an incredibly selfish, abhorrent act... and, of course, very much a crime, one that has the potential to ruin his life if found out.

He does try roundabout ways. He's a sweet person and most people like him, so he has heard his fair share of talk and gossip that circulates around the community. Ideally, he can find someone else that likes the person who likes you, encourage them to go for it and pursue the one they want, and everything works out perfectly. Well, that's how he envisions it in his head, but he knows it probably won't be that easy.

He puts himself to work trying every other angle he can. Digs around for information on the individual, trying to find some negative thing to use against them — a violation that could get them expelled or jailed, a secret he can post on a public bulletin and ruin their reputation, anything. He feels bad, of course, but it's the morally superior option to murder, and that thought helps him feel less guilty.

If worse comes to worse, he can still cause inconveniences. They're going to go meet up with you? Not with their keys hidden they aren't, preventing them from locking their door. He'll find countless little ways to sabotage, all in the hope that it will somehow ruin the relationship between the two of you... he'll feel bad, but it's worth it.

For him to ever actually, truly reach a point where killing is a realistic possibility, it would require a lot of pushing and desperation. He would have had to exhaust every other possible option, and feel that he's at a point where he'll lose you permanently unless he takes some form of drastic action. Even then, the downside of this is that he actually doesn't plan a murder, he ends up doing something spontaneous and impulsive out of a sudden panic response. There's an opportunity — they're standing at the edge of a railing they would die if they fell from, he knows which drink is theirs and there's pest poisons just sitting right there so temptingly, or something of that nature — and he just takes it on an impulse, only to process his own actions a second too late.

The downside of this is that the homicide will certainly be discovered, so it's not as if it's just a person gone missing, but it's just perfectly done enough that they never have any idea who might have done it, or, it may be written off as an accident, depending on the specifics. Nonetheless, you notice that you haven't seen Kaveh in a few days... turns out he's holed up in his home, with his roommate saying something must be wrong with him, because he's been sick and feverish... it's very unfortunate timing, seeing as you were hoping to go to him for some comfort over the loss of another friend, but you can just wait for him to feel better.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He may be sweet, but it's not really that hard to get him upset. He's rather patient, tries to be understanding. If you have some disagreement, he tries his best to be calm and see things from your perspective and all that. But there is a limit to his patience.

However, his poor moods aren't really what you'd call true anger, he's more prone to this quick cycle where he first gets frustrated and huffy, then sullen and sad and moody. The first stage is lots of heavy frustrated sighs, he crosses his arms and grinds his teeth. He doesn't yell or shout, but he does raise his voice just a bit, and it's clearly audibly irritated. Prone to using those phrases with "if" and "just" -- if you would just listen, or if we could just do that, then, or if they just leave you alone, so on and so on, creating these scenarios where his ideal is the most reasonable outcome, and it's dependent on you or someone else to meet some simple condition, at which point everything would work out perfectly, making you or some other person the only thing inhibiting said ideal outcome. If he's really, really mad, he doesn't want to end up saying something that would hurt you or anything, and he gets the impulse to just go walk it off and cool down, so he actually ends up storming off, muttering something about needing just a few minutes. It's actually one of the few times he ever leaves you alone, funnily enough. It doesn't last too long before he comes back, and that's only on rare occasions that he reaches that point.

After that first stage, after getting out the frustration, it gives way to feeling all sad and melancholy, so he tends to mope. And whine. And sulk. And wallow in feeling sorry for himself. And, if possible, drink the feelings away. It's kind of childish, really, and often overdramatic. If you're present and it's not you who made him feel that way to begin with, he doesn't actually outright say anything or ask for anything, but he goes out of his way to be extra mopey and sad and makes sure it's right within your field of vision, hoping you will give him attention and love and encouragement. Just sort of silently sits there all sad and waits for some attention. And yes, this means that if you haven't caught onto it due to being spaced out or focused on something else, and go into another room, he will sort of quietly trail behind you and go into the next room with you before sitting down and sulking again, until you finally catch on and give him the attention he craves.

If you are the reason he's all hurt, even unintentionally, he might resort to giving you a bit of silent treatment, with a similar goal: hope that you'll give him attention and ask what's wrong and then ask what's wrong again when he says 'nothing' and then gasp and apologize when he tells you and say you didn't mean what you did or said that way and hold him and kiss his forehead and... well, that's how it plays out in his head.

If you're trying to make him mad intentionally, though, he's likely to see through it, and again, he just gets hurt. Why are you being so mean? Did I do something? He actually gets really, genuinely hurt by this sort of behavior, and will likely make you feel so guilty for trying it that you cease and refocus your efforts to a different tactic.

How do they express affection, or attempt to endear themselves to you?

It would be easier to ask how he doesn't. He tries every angle, every means of expression, manages to have every "love language" simultaneously. He's always getting you various little gifts (how is he affording that?), always saying nice things, always doing things for you and helping you with any task you wish, always spending time with you (even if you don't want it), and if you'll allow it, he's very, very cuddly. While he does it all, he's especially focused on getting stuff for you, despite his lack of funds.

Maybe it's because it's just his preferred way of expressing his affection, but perhaps there's also a more manipulative side to it -- he knows that you know that he doesn't have a lot of money, so if you see that he's spending what little he does have on you, it will seem that much more significant, right? You'll notice, and then it will seem like an even bigger, more meaningful gesture because of that. You'll thus be more emotionally moved by the gesture, and you'll surely want to repay him with affection and attention. Whether that's just a natural exchange of sentiments or a subtly manipulative means of trying to win your favor, well, you can think whatever you like.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It somewhat depends on his mood. On better days, he'd like to just disregard such notions as "value" of an individual person, thinks the concept is shallow and meaningless, the sort of thing only either very prideful or very insecure people would even care to think about. Who cares what someone's "worth" is, or if someone is "better" or "worse" than someone else? As long as two people love each other, nothing else should matter, right?

But on worse days, when he's sulking and his thoughts wander to negative places, he starts to feel like you're better than him, to the extent it can make him depressed. When he's not in a good mood, he often lays around wallowing, deep in thought about how you can do so much better than him, there's no way you'd ever choose to stay with him permanently, and even if you do like him, surely someone better will come along and he'll lose you... sigh.

When he's in such a sulking mood, it's very outwardly obvious, he gets quieter than usual and a sad look on his face. So if you just give him a bit of reassurance, maybe a hug and cuddles and a kiss to the forehead and some sweet uplifting words (please), he'll perk right back up. Well, the thought will still be in the back of his mind, but he can't stay too sad when you're giving him attention. He'll just keep feeding off your reassurance for a while until the contentment from it runs out, and then he gets depressed again, and then you reassure him again, and, well, it cycles like that.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

If you haven't accepted him, he's still incredibly determined, in spite of a tendency to sometimes be pessimistic in his own thoughts about the matter. He bounces back and forth -- he'll undergo a brief sad spell thinking about how he'll never make you like him, but he comes out of it with newfound determination that he'll either win you over or die trying. This repeats over and over, at least until you show some semblance of affection or attention, which will serve as a fuel he manages to stretch out for an incredibly long time thereafter.

...And don't give him any ideas, because seriously, he will die trying. This man will put his own well-being at great risk for a chance to impress you. Seriously. He doesn't even really need you to do anything to push him, even. He will do something incredibly stupid and he will get himself hurt if you don't actively stop him from doing so. Over time you kind of develop a sixth sense, a radar where you can feel when he's about to do something stupid, so use it wisely.

If you do accept him and agree to be with him, he'd like to think you already do love him, but to be honest, he gets insecure pretty easily and, while he won't actually ask for it because he deems it too pathetic, he would very much appreciate if you remind him you love him on a regular basis.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

His reluctance to do anything he deems immoral does not combine well with his desire to secure you all to himself. The two don't exactly go hand-in-hand, it's difficult to ensure someone remains around you at all times and never interacts with anyone else without taking some unsavory measures to get to that point. Hence, he takes so many roundabout measures of getting the results he wants, and does so much by proxy -- not only does it prevent a lot of things from being tracked back to him, but it also alleviates himself of guilt. That alone sets him apart from the typical type of obsessive lover and their tendencies to kill, rape and kidnap without much hesitancy.

When he does engage in morally questionable behaviors and manipulative tactics, though, it's really not even intentional. That behavior isn't even necessarily a conscious choice, he doesn't really think about it or intend it to be part of some bigger picture of control, it's just that whenever you mention going out to see other people, or when he doesn't know where you are, or when you're paying more attention to something else than him, he gets this awful sick feeling and acts on impulses to soothe his nerves, which just so happens to be keeping you right by his side and ensuring he has your full attention. It's not malicious, or intentionally controlling or manipulative. He just cares so, so much and loves you so, so much and the behaviors just come out without him really putting any intentional thought into them, nor has it ever occurred to him as an afterthought. It just doesn't really cross his mind, he doesn't reflect on his own actions all that much.

If he was made aware of how manipulative he can be, forced to come to the realization of everything he's done, it would come as a bit of a shock to him, and would leave him more or less a psychological mess for a little while as he comes to terms with the fact that, despite his best conscious intentions, he's actually been pretty awful in some ways. He would come out of it swearing to himself to be better, thinking he will keep better track of himself in the future and think his actions through, that he'll make up for anything bad that he's done before... but, of course, the chances of that resolve lasting in the face of situational impulses is not that great, and in the heat of the moment, any thoughts he has that what he might be about to do is kind of distasteful behavior will be overridden by some momentary justification, which will be reinforced and repeated to himself afterwards to make himself feel better.

On a more wholesome note, Kaveh also gets really enthusiastic about your passions, talents and hobbies. He understands passion and dedication to a craft or art form, having the same experience himself, and gets really into supporting you in your endeavors, should you have anything of the sort. Whether it's something artsy like music or drawing or dance, or something more sport-related or science-related, doesn't really matter, he just really makes an effort to support you and encourage you. He'll tell you whatever you've created is amazing (even if you both know it's not), he'll spend whatever money he gets his hands on to buy materials or supplies or other thematic gifts (even though you keep telling him not to, to save his money), and he always asks tons of questions. It's partially a genuine, heartfelt sentiment, and it's also just partially an obsessive compulsion to know everything there is to know regarding you, but he also does very much hope that you will be happy and appreciate his efforts, and that in turn you'll think more highly of him and have more affection for him. Basically, it's partially yet another means of trying to win your favor. Nonetheless, it's really sweet and endearing.

Finally, in all honesty, Kaveh can be pretty sensitive. Especially in regards to you. It's easy to hurt his feelings, and when he's hurt, he goes into one of his attention-seeking moping sessions. You often find yourself feeling like you can't be entirely honest with him, because he's so sensitive to your words and feelings, so if you're bluntly honest, you'll end up hurting his feelings fairly often. You sometimes have to just find ways to articulate what you want to say in a way to deflect from anything he might take too personally. Regardless, be prepared to deal with a lot of his sad wallowing. He'll be sad (and make sure you see it) until you come cheer him up, preferably with hugs and kisses and sweet words. He can get rather childish when it comes to this, so it's easy to get frustrated by his sensitivity, but it's easier for both of you if you just comply and be all sweet like he wants, or else you'll just create a bigger task for yourself when he gets even more upset.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's incredibly touchy, if you allow it. He's perceptive enough to tell if you flinch or draw away from his touch, so he'll refrain if he feels like it's bothering you, but if you seem to be receptive to his touches, he can't keep his hands off of you. All throughout the day, laying on the couch or in bed, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, always holds your hand in public, and clings to you in some way even just walking around the house. Depending on your height difference, he likes to rest his chin either on the top of your head or your shoulder, arms wrapped around you from behind while you work on whatever you're doing.

He's admittedly developed a habit of masturbation fairly regularly, so he's used to getting to cum pretty often, needs it at least once a day. He's fairly horny overall, but in particular, his drive increases as an emotional response. If he's in a good mood, the slightest of visual stimuli or touches can get him going, and he's very eager. If he's sad, though, he still gets horny over it, the purpose of wanting sex just changes, now being that it will cheer him up. The only time he really can't get easily aroused if when he's under very intense stress, situations that need to be resolved as fast as possible, he's just too focused on whatever the task at hand is to think about much else. He'll still very much appreciate (and not outright ask for, but maybe strongly hint at wanting) a nice blowjob or riding him when he's finished as a means of praising him for getting through his task, though.

He's a mix of reserved and not reserved. He's awkward about it and very new to it all, so he has a tendency to be shy about it, the sort of thing where he can't make eye contact, keeps sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. But the raging hormones and eagerness make him simultaneously still very much unhesitant to participate and discuss, even if he's burning on the inside with embarrassment the whole time.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Of course he cares tremendously. Forcing someone into doing intimate acts against their will is one of the most horrific crimes he can conceive of, and he despises people who would do something like that. Rapists, in his mind, are all strangers, a certain class of bad people who exist solely in certain unsavory spaces and groups.

But people who are in relationships are supposed to be intimate with each other and all. It's natural and healthy. Relationships are said to suffer if there's a sudden drought in that department.

See, Kaveh has a sort of slow descent. A lot of his approach depends on whether or not you've had sex or any sort of intimacy before. Before you've ever done so, he's very respectful of your wishes, would never push anything onto you, would never pressure you, is willing to maintain a perfectly squeaky-clean relationship where you never touch below the neck, will stiffen and turn around and cover his eyes automatically if you start to change or have a wardrobe malfunction that reveals something, won't even talk about such things if you don't bring it up first. Much to your amusement, he even asked to kiss you the first time he did so. The sort of "pure" relationship that you've seen particularly religiously pious or socially traditional people promote.

Things change a bit with time, though. Still, he'd never ever ever force anything, of course, but, you know. There's a lot of space between forcing something and being totally okay with not having it ever.

Once you've gotten somewhat hot and heavy, late at night alone in your place, mouths latched onto each other, but you pull away because you don't want to move too fast or whatever your reason is, he accepts that, really. He just looks very visibly disappointed, might mope a bit... but no, really, it's fine. You can tell how badly he wants it, and he seems to think every night is going to be The Night based on how quickly he seems to perk up and eagerly latch onto you if you embrace him or kiss him or anything of the sort. But no pressure. It's fine, really.

The pressure of the blatant disappointment is not so bad, really, it can be more amusing than anything, but it gets significantly worse after you actually do sleep with him for the first time, because he gets hooked like some sort of drug. And consequently, without even realizing it himself, he gets much pushier. In a more rational mind, he'd probably at least try to stop himself in his worst moments, but one's self-awareness and inhibition are severely compromised when you have a flood of hormones pumping through your veins, and the object the brain associates with that burst of a chemical high right in front of you, complete with visual stimuli. He's still not forceful, of course, just... encouraging. Touchy. Can't get behind closed doors for more than a few moments without pulling you close and holding onto you while you two lay on a couch or bed or whatever at the end of the day, just like you always have, just much more sensual with the places being grabbed and the not-so-subtle tugging on your clothes. If you actually want it, it's rather cute, always strikes you with the imagery of an eager puppy wagging its tail or the like.

But you don't have to, and if you aren't feeling it or something, that's fine... he'll be really sad, but that's fine. Maybe you'll feel like it again in an hour or so. He'll be sure to check. But if not, that's fine... he's just going to be even more sad. And quiet. And mopey. Blatantly so, such a contrast to his usual self you can't not notice it. It makes you feel a bit guilty, makes the atmosphere a bit awkward. But hey, if you give in and give him what he wants, he immediately perks right back up.

It's really not a conscious behavior, not something he's ever really stopped to think about, it's just something he sort of does without ever really thinking about it or how manipulative it is. If you ever point it out to him, he'd feel awful about it and try to stop himself from subconsciously engaging in that behavior... which will last about a week or so.

What is intimacy with them like? What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Poor baby is a total virgin. He won't admit to it unprompted, but it's kind of obvious, and he'll be (albeit sheepishly) honest if you asked. He's incredibly nervous, but also very eager, hands that tremble yet rush to pull everything off of you and run over your bare skin with intense fixation. He pays a lot of attention to you and your reactions, at least in the beginning, and is very afraid of accidentally hurting you or something.

Oral fixation

Kaveh is a very simple boy, he gets off to knowing he's getting you off. He likes making you feel good. He quickly discovers that he really likes having his head between your legs. Loves the way you squirm and moan and fuck it feels so good when you lace your fingers in his hair and pull, when you clamp your thighs down on either side of his head. It gives him such a rush, a sense of pride and excitement at the same time. He can spend literal hours like that, and likes to just do it at random. Expect to be often pushed against the wall when you're home, any of your whining about how you were cleaning or working on something soon replaced by noises of pleasure you can't restrain when he drops down and buries his tongue inside you. He keeps insisting that you sit on his face -- yes he can breathe, don't worry, and even if he can't, he'll be pretty content if that's how he goes anyway, doing what he loves.

It goes both ways, though, not just on the receiving end. If you go to reciprocate, he'll be in total, sheer bliss. He starts off trying to be cautious and worries about your comfort, but quickly gets lost in the feeling, grabbing you by your skull and pulling your head down, jerking your face up and down like a toy until he cums down your throat. Of course, after he does, he'll be apologizing for it over and over, but if you reassure him it's fine, he might just lose inhibition and control like that more readily in the future.

Praise

This probably doesn't even qualify as a kink for him, it's more like a need. He desperately needs you to tell him that he's doing a good job. Moans and other such noises are very nice on their own, but specific verbal praise is very much appreciated. Tell him it feels good, that he's good, that you love him, that you love his cock inside you, that you need him and want him and will never ever leave him. He eats up any positive words you say, depends on them even. It's partially an emotional thing of course, but it also makes him cum that much faster, each word of praise about how good it feels like an electric shock of pleasure.

Oh, and if the phrase "good boy" leaves your mouth, his soul might actually leave his body and ascend right then and there.

Marking

He discovers this because he has a tendency to get rougher than he realizes in the heat of the moment. He'll get more intense halfway in, start thrusting harder and gripping more firmly, nails digging in and even, without consciously intending to, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Only after it's over does he start sputtering all wide-eyed because he sees the marks his actions have left across your skin, stammering out an apology and asking if you're hurt or need something and why is hot, why does it make him feel weird. What is this? This weird feeling, he feels so bad about having done it, and yet, it's... kind of nice...

If you don't mind it, maybe just maybe he can do it again... the thought of which makes him nearly hard again already. He finds himself tracing a finger over the indents of his teeth in your flesh, over the hickeys and scratches... he still feels guilty, but provided you don't seem upset, he finds himself sort of attracted to it. It feels nice, in a way, like it's marking something as his own, makes him feel a sort of prideful swelling feeling that also very much correlates to making his cock twitch. Like he's writing his name on you with each mark. Or, hey, maybe he could quite literally do that instead...

He grows a fast affinity for any sort of marking on you, be it scratches, bites, hickeys, actual writing, or even just cumshots on your face and back. It's rather cute how he still feels guilty about it, mumbles out an apology for it, but it's very evident that he's enjoying it nonetheless.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them? What are they like as a parent?

He'd prefer to be financially stable first, of course, but yes actually, very strongly so. He really likes the thought of eventually having a family, likes to picture it in his head. Just you, him, a bunch of kids, maybe you guys could get a dog or a cat or something, in a nice but modest house, living a peaceful, happy, simplistic life... it's a nice thought. He knows it's a bit embarrassing to be dreaming of stuff like that with someone he doesn't know that well, so he tries to refrain, but the thoughts seep in nonetheless.

It wouldn't be something that would practically, actually happen, though, until later stages, if you've finally accepted him, most likely via an "accident" wherein he forgot (or rather, tells himself he forgot) to wear protection, and one thing leads to another. Granted, he probably won't actually make it to the point of financial stability before it does, but... hey, having love and hope is what matters, right? Sure, maybe it'll be a struggle, but you'll manage... probably.

On the bright side, he's actually a very good father, one of the best you could have. Very caring and loving, and highly involved in every aspect of the kid's life. He's always trying to take care of tasks for you to "give you a break," wants the full Parent Experience™ -- which is rather endearing, seeing as you know a lot of men tend to push the boring or annoying or tedious tasks off on the mother, but Kaveh gladly helps you with a smile on his face and enthusiasm in every second.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

It would be a stretch to call it that, largely because he doesn't really intend it that way. But if you happen to trigger his anxieties when he's already in one of his worst moments, where he becomes more forceful and irrational out of paranoia or panic, the solution his mind comes up with for the issue of your discontentment is to make you feel good. Orgasms trigger a critical part of a bonding process (he remembers learning that in some mandatory class years ago), and you can't have room for too many bad thoughts when your mind is completely consumed by pleasure.

As always, he's not going to force you, of course not, he's just a little more pushy than usual, talks fast enough you can't get a word in, hands on your shoulders with a firm grip and an even firmer push as you get quickly guided into the bed (not forced! If you really didn't want it, you could always shove back), pushed down onto your back. A hand held over your mouth, should you try to talk, not because he's trying to prevent you from getting a word in, but because you're going to get yourself more worked up and distressed if he lets you talk. Just... just calm down, okay? Just let me handle it...

You have the opportunity to say no, despite the crushing grip and frantic voice and the ominous intensity of his stare. Looming over you, light from the hallway casting a shadow over his face that makes you feel uneasy. But you know he wouldn't hurt you, he's sure of that, so if you really wanted something else, you'd just tell him. Your stillness and quietness and wide eyes are an unspoken form of permission in and of themselves. You're clearly in recognition of your own distress and need for him to help you, and he'll do his best to make you feel good, which will in turn make you feel better and relax. Rather, maybe just keep going until you eventually pass out. Get the negative emotions out of you so that you'll be back to normal in the morning... and if not, he can just keep going then, too.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

If you ask, he'll say something really sappy like your eyes or your smile. Which is true, but he also likes all the soft squishy parts. Thighs, chest, anything he can rest his head on after a really long day and blissfully relax on. It's probably the closest thing on earth to what heaven feels like, he thinks. There's something comforting about the soft warmth that just melts his anxieties and stress away. Sometimes, if he's been dealing with a particularly disagreeable or demanding client or been pushed around all day, he just comes home at the end of the day silently sulking, makes a beeline over towards you, flops down and stuffs his face into your chest without a word.

But going back to his affinity for your eyes, over the course of his career, he's become somewhat familiar with certain stones and metals often inlaid into more ornate or sacred works of architecture, and he will definitely at some point get you some form of necklace or bracelet or the like with some stone or metal in it that matches the color of your eyes. He just puts a lot of effort into trying to be classically romantic like that, which is cute at least.

#alhthm staring up at the ceiling laying in bed at night trying to ignore the sounds before just sighing and putting the earpieces in #hes a real one for allowing it though ty alhthm #yandere genshin impact

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