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#if you cannot tell i am trying so so desperately not to come off as mean
bengiyo · 5 hours
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Wandee Goodday Ep 3 Stray Thoughts
Last week, Wandee wasn't feeling great after he was forced to call out Ter for trying to gaslight him about his feelings. Yoryak happened to see that and later rescued Wandee from Rain's (LITA) kidnapper and taking him home. Yoryak is managing his own sting at being rejected by Taem, but learned from her perspective to help Wandee. Our leads began their FWB arrangement and got to have fun with costumes (and some help from Kao) and rimming jokes. They set some rules that I expect Wandee to violate immediately. Cher and Oyei continued to be a great team.
Finally, after ten years of this, we finally acknowledge the most reliable act that two gay men can engage in with each other. They were having fun and joking with it! My Stand In, have several seats.
Curious about Yoryak's parents. Seems like there's a tragedy there.
Love that all the friends clocked the necklace on both ends and immediately called it out. Yoryak got roasted by his brother and not-in-law and I laughed so hard.
Kao does not believe the lies Wandee is telling himself.
Why are we spending time on hetero nonsense?
Not these two dancing around how much they're into each other.
I really love the team that Oyei and Cher have become before we met them. I love that Cher is helping Oyei balance these burdens he's taken on and is able to navigate his pride.
I think it's really important that the show gave us time with Wandee doing total care for a sick child and his mom, giving both of them what they needed in a serious situation.
Truly, someone please explain to these. Headed that Ter ain't gonna fuck them either!
Kao! Lie better! It really be your own hoes letting you down.
I'm interested in this boxing-based homophobia Yak has to manage and I wonder if Oyei being with Cher is the reason we haven't seen their dad.
I really love the way Oyei respects the physical limits of his boxers while being real with them about the obstacles they're facing and why they're pushing.
The fact that Yoryak hasn't taken the necklace back even though he's frustrated with Wandee says a lot. The show is using that detail well.
See, this is good writing. We used the seriousness of Oyei and Cher's relationship and their real worries about the gym to make this play from Wandee land properly. They also know that Wandee is the guy he's seeing so they're probably less concerned since they can supervise.
I'm so amped about this fight. I had hoped we'd have an excuse for Yoryak and Oyei to fight. We even get Cher holding his phone in the gayest way possible.
Oyei said he was not letting Cher go home and kicked his brother's ass.
Look at Wandee playing these fucking games. I am obsessed.
I love the no kiss rule and how badly Yoryak wants to break it. In another show I might be feeling things about the closet, but the fact that Yak has wanted to kiss for two episodes makes me trust the show.
I appreciate that despite how desperate he is, Wandee stopped when he reached a hard no.
Wandee completely misunderstood that Yoryak is a simp. All he had to do was be genuinely pathetic and he folded instantly. That's worked in literally episode.
I really hope Wandee appreciates that Yoryak is coming out to help him.
Thinking about that pasta they made in I Only Want to See You.
"You already experienced a bigger bite."
Okay, I love them ending on some soft affection before they fuck off screen.
Cannot overstate how important it is to me that we ended the last episode on Wandee telling Yoryak he needed to pay more attention to his dick and then opening on an enthusiastic 69. This episode was excellent, and I loved how well all of the moments worked with the major issue of the episode. I really love when episodic media feels episodic and I am eating good with this show. I love that for three episodes these two progress any time Wandee is sober and honest with Yoryak.
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wawataka · 4 months
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me seeing the 194716th au where reigen adopts mob (mob has his own loving parents (what about ritsu (reigen can barely take care of himself)))
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inkskinned · 4 months
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there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"
barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.
there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."
do people give a shit now, though?
barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."
1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."
hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?
women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.
and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?
in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."
(right?)
on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.
you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.
but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.
surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.
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kookslastbutton · 9 months
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Baby Maker ༓ kth (m)
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✑ Summary: You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions.
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Pairing: husband!taehyung x fem!reader
AU/genre: pwp, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 2,473
Warnings: light fighting, hard dom!taehyung, slight brat sub!reader, make up s*x, rough s*x, manhandling, bl*wjob, teasing, b**b groping, degradation (taehyung calls reader a sl*t), impreg k*nk, f*replay, penetration, r*ding, d*ggy, d*rty talk, d*ck slapping, taehyung refers to himself as daddy, mention of aftercare, trouble taking off lingerie bc yeah it be a whole process sometimes.
A/N: seeing Taehyung on esquire...you cannot tell me he doesn't look good omg 🙈 anyway this is filthy sooo I'm going to rock myself to sleep now bc i work on the moring, pls enjoy 💞
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"Sweetheart, I didn't mean to be late. I'm sorry."
Taehyung stands in front of you with pleading eyes. He tries not to drop his gaze below your neck, seeing that you're more than pissed at him for getting home nearly an hour later than planned. He feels bad about it, he really does. But he can also easily see his favorite fiery red lingerie peeking out of your silky robe, making him all the more eager to show you how he can make it up to you.
"Well that's too bad Taehyung because I'm not in the mood anymore." You tighten your arms across your chest and stand your ground. If your husband didn't look like sex on legs all the time this would be a lot easier nevertheless, he will not be getting his dick sucked tonight.
"Are you kidding?" He gives you a 'really' look before reaching for one of your wrists. "You're always in the mood for baby making. Been in the mood for months. Come on sweetheart, how many times do I need to tell you I'm sorry? Let me make it up to you."
"No." You swiftly pull away from him. "I'm showering and then going to bed." You head over to your dresser to grab a pair of pajamas to change into. Are you being petty? Maybe. But you and Taehyung have been trying for a baby over the past two weeks. So him being late tonight just feels like he isn't taking any of it seriously.
"Don't even think about trying to come in here," you spit, moving to close the door of the master bathroom. Taehyung gives a small sigh before stopping the door with his hands. Your eyes avert to the motion immediately—damn his fingers for being so long and sleek.
"Baby I know I shouldn't have been late, and I know you're horny but aren't we being the tiniest bit stubborn here?"
"What the hell did you say?" You can't believe your ears. "You think this is me just being stubborn and horny? No, this is me-, you pause, scrambling for words. "I'm punishing you!" You point at him accusingly.
"Punishing me by withholding sex? From being an hour late tonight? I get it baby, I do but is that what you really want? To take a shower, then go to sleep." He pushes his way through the door and walks up to you until he's towering over you. His warm blonde locks drape over his eyes— you know how soft they feel in your hands. "Or," his deep honeyed voice teases near your ear as he tugs on one of your robe's straps. "Do you want to take off this useless piece of material and I'll show you how sorry I am?" He sets his hands on your hips, tracing down the fabric of your robe. "I'll let you ride me," he husks.
You bite the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him. It's not every night that you're allowed to top with a husband as alpha as Taehyung in the bed. And the way his hands are moving so sensually up and down your sides is making you shudder with arousal.
"Fuck you. Fuck you to the moon and back Taehyung."
"Great, let's start that tonight." Taehyung takes it as a go and you pound on his back with your fists when you feel your whole body being slung over his shoulder. He plops you on the bed within seconds and crawls up to you in a straddling position—thighs on either side of your waist. "I swear to god __, our baby better not inherent this stubborn streak of yours." He starts untying the knot of your robe and prys the material open to slip down your shoulders.
"What baby?" You sit up a little to let him remove it. "The only baby you seem to be making is with Park Jimin. You were at his house all day. Or was it Jungkook? Did you have a threesome with them?"
"For fucksake, no I wasn't having a threesome with those idiots who can't even get their dicks out of their pants." He tosses the robe to the side, cock swelling at the sight of you underneath him in lacey red lingerie and black lace garters—this he did not see before. "And I'm not into Jimin, he's too into his porno films. Now enough whining. I said I was sorry."
"You were watching porn with Jimin?!" Your eyes go large as saucers. Apparently, that's all you heard. Taehyung lets out a throaty growl, more than fed up with your attitude tonight.
"No I wasn't! Stop it. I wasn't fucking or watching people fuck." He holds your wrists down on the mattress to keep you from moving about. "You get so goddamn needy. I didn't realize you could get this horny."
"I told you its not about—"
"Shut up and let me kiss you." Taehyung presses his mouth against yours, biting your lower lip like a sin. You squirm underneath his hold but end up moaning when he slips his tongue into the small crease between your lips.
"Taehyung," you let out a breathy gasp when you feel his fully hardened cock brush against your center. Not much else gets to come out after that as Taehyung continues to lick every corner of your mouth, toying with your tongue at the same time.
It's when he finally breaks from your lips to trace wet kisses along the curve of your neck that you can catch your breath again. His firm hold on your wrists also loosen, but you know exactly where they're moving next.
"Did you really expect me to believe you'd put on my favorite lingerie with these godforsaken garters only to not have your brains completely fucked tonight?" He squeezes your breasts and rolls his thumbs around your nipples, feeling them harden with the friction.
You choose to remain silent this time, slightest smirk on your face which no doubt irritates your husband to no end.
"Don't want to say anything anymore Mrs. Kim?" He fiddles with the front of your bra, specifically the tiny hook that's holding the cups together. "Nothing at all? Just gonna lay there and stare at me with those beautiful lusty eyes?"
"You know I was feeling really guilty earlier," Taehyung rasps, leaning back to throw his shirt over his head. "I was afraid you were actually mad at me and at first I think you were. But..." He reaches to unbuckle his belt. "Now you're just acting like a brat to tick me off."
You bite down a whimper when his cock bounces free, practically throbbing to be inside something. You've taken Taehyung many times with tears streaming down your face, each round reminding you of his massive size.
"Fuck," he groans as he takes himself in his palm. "If you want to be treated like a brat so much then it's your lucky day." He straddles your sides again, the head of his cock falling proudly in front of your lips. "Open," he demands, but you bite your lip; feigning innocence.
Your husband is not impressed, however. "Quit acting like you've never seen cock before," he barks. "You're the furthest thing from a virgin so open up."
Rude, you think before slowly sticking your tongue out until it touches the slit of his cock. You know it'll piss him off but you decide it's fun to keep swirling around the sensitive area, collecting the pre-cum dripping out.
"Shit, don't." Your husband groans and screws his eyes shut to keep himself from coming early.
You should take this as a warning but you're far too pleased of yourself so you continue teasing him, making sure a few purposeful moans slip out as you lick around his tan tip.
"Fuck I'm gonna blow my load in ten seconds if you don't stop. Baby, stop."
You ignore your husband's pleas and wrap your lips around the head of his length, sucking it with determination. As if to counter the filthy action you sparkle your eyes up into his dark ones. You make them as big as you can. Anytime now and he'll-
"I said stop you fucking slut!" The words are barked at you without warning. Taehyung takes his cock from you and slaps it across your cheek. A very sticky substance smears on your face. "Now, get my dick wet or nothing's going into that slutty little cunt."
You widen your mouth to take him deeper at his threat but it's too slow—or Taehyung's too impatient. Either way, his thick length shoves to the back of your throat and starts running in and out of your mouth with a vengeance. You choke at the intensity of each thrust, vision blurring due to the tears building.
"Is it too much sweetheart?' He provokes, beads of sweat line his forehead and a vein threatens to pop from his neck any second. "Too big for your pretty mouth to handle?"
You feel yourself clench as the heavy weight of his length glides faster on your tongue. The anticipation of his release is killing you and though you can't speak, right now, you want your husband to make you look like such a messy whore that his come fills your mouth and spills down your tits. Then you want him to flip you over, prop your ass up, and fuck you until burning hot sensation courses through your body.
While in thought, Taehyung takes the opportunity to slip himself out of your mouth. A string of spit can't help but follow with it.
"But—"
"It's plenty wet now," Taehyung smirks at your obvious distress. He moves to take your panties and garter off next. "Fuck," he swears in frustration. "How do you get this off dammit?" You help him wiggle yourself out of the contraption (which ends up taking a good five or six minutes).
As soon as the lace fabric is discarded, you find yourself quickly being lifted on his hardened member. Taehyung makes sure you're well-supported before roughly thrusting up into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce to the rhythm he sets, tempting him to go faster.
"I promised I'd let you ride me didn't I?"
"Not—what I—had in mind," you pant. "Fuck, Taehyung you're always so fucking big—ah!" You grip his shoulders when his cock perfectly hits your g-spot.
"Good to see you've found your voice again baby. I was beginning to think you were going to give me the silent treatment this whole night."
"Shut—ah shit—yes, Taehyung, right there! Faster, fuck!" You moan, too caught up in the way his cock is making you feel to care about talking back.
"What a filthy mouth on you Mrs. Kim. No one taught you any manners?" He darts his tongue out to gently graze across a nipple. At the action, you start moving with his thrusts; meeting them in sync.
"So good Taehyung." Your eyes flutter shut. "If this doesn't get me pregnant then—"
You squeal when you're suddenly thrown off his cock and turned on your stomach. With your ass positioned nice and high in the air, your husband can see every trace of your arousal.
"Don't worry about that sweetheart." His cock pushes back into your pussy, teeth nipping at your ear ever so gently but enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Daddy's definitely gonna make you a mommy tonight."
Taehyung caves over you to fully cover your back before picking up the same pace as before. "You want my cum baby?" He grunts. "Want me to fill you up and make you round with my child?"
"Yes-yes." You grip the sheets underneath you for leverage. "Want you to put a baby in me Taehyung."
"Fuck—say that again." He growls and continues snapping his hips. The sound of skin slapping on skin is so lewd but you and Taehyung can't be bothered by the noise when you're breathing so heavily in each other's ear.
"I want you to put a baby in me Tae."
"Louder."
"I want—," you struggle to repeat the words when you feel your walls tighten around his length. Your stomach churns too and the way his cock fucks in you gets seemingly harder to take.
"Close baby?"
"Mm." You barely respond, too focused on getting to your high.
"And to think you were simply going to shower and sleep tonight." He circles back to your earlier argument with the cockiest smirk on his face but it's wiped off as quick as it came when you start grinding your hips to meet his thrusts.
"That's it," Taehyung clenches his teeth. "Get yourself off—holy fuck you feel so goddamn tight around me."
"I'm—I'm coming!" Once the cord snaps in you, your eyes roll to the back of your head. Ropes of your cum drip over your husband's length, covering it completely, and down part of your inner thigh. Taehyung's cock twitches in response and his breaths turn into aggressive pants as he starts chasing after his own release.
"Shit baby, shit! I'm so fucking close. Gonna breed this pussy, tell me you want it one more time baby."
"Mm, yes, want it so bad," you let out a strained moan. "Come in me—ah daddy!" His length reaches a little further this time, making you yelp.
"Shit, you okay baby?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Keep moving. It just surprised me."
"If I go too hard, tell me okay?" You respond with the loudest 'mhm' you can.
After a few more broken groans and profanities your husband finally finishes with his cum painting your walls less than thirty seconds later.
A long sigh of relief leaves both your lips when you roll over on your backs—sweaty, sore, and satisfied.
"Wasn't expecting you to call me daddy in bed." Taehyung lazily hovers near your body and presses a kiss to your lips. You allow his tongue to slip in for a minute before shoving him off.
"Don't get used to it, mister. And don't ever slap me with your dick again. I'm all sticky."
"I'm sorry, do you want me to draw you a bath?"
"You best believe I do."
"Yes ma'am." Taehyung goes to get up but he falls back down. "Can you give me like ten minutes first? We went a little hard tonight, I can't really feel my dick."
"You sure about that?" You reach over to gently grip his length.
"Shit—hurts baby."
"Sorry." You grin, not sorry at all. "I'm sure it'll be fine in the morning."
Taehyung looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "Are you kidding? It'll be fine by the time I get you in the bath."
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A/n: ...goodnight 😇
Masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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Hi!! Could you do a Bodyguard!James Potter x reader where he is guarding her during a high profile event and something happens? With a bit of angst to fluff? If you’re comfortable of course! I hope you have a wonderful day, i’m new to your page and ADORED your bodyguard james. <3
Thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: guns, shooting
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You shift your stance a bit and have to bite down on a whimper. 
“I’m going to have to throw these shoes out after this,” you mutter to James. “I’m pretty sure there’s blood pooling around my toes.” 
“You wanna take them off?” he murmurs back, lips barely moving as he keeps his face in a mask of businesslike impassivity. 
You sigh. “I wish.” 
“You could. Just step out of them, no one’s looking over here.” 
It’s true. Every camera in the chamber is pointed to where your mom stands on the podium, her right hand raised as she takes her oath. As much as you hate coming to these things, you can’t ignore the kernel of pride shining behind your sternum. She’s waited so long for this day, dealt with so much opposition, and now she’s finally going to be able to enact some real change. You can keep up appearances for her. 
“I’d better not risk it,” you tell James. “With my luck, the second I do—” 
You’re on the ground before you even register the sound of glass shattering. James’ grip on your shoulder is harsh, almost painful, but the noise that follows has enough adrenaline spiking your bloodstream to forget about that. The loud, rapid popping of gunfire fills the chamber. 
James’ hand moves to clasp around your elbow, but you tear away from him, headed in the opposite direction. The podium is empty. Where’s your mom? Did they get her already? Is she hurt? Did she—
You’re not fast enough to outpace James, definitely not limping around in your heels, and he gets an arm around your waist, hauling you away from the center aisle. You can’t tell where the gunfire is coming from—who has the guns?—but he pushes your head down before you can look. A low buzzing burrows into your ears. You try again to go to where you last saw your mom, but James yanks you back to his side, a cutting “Stop” hissing past his lips. Any other time, a tone like that would have you stilling like a frightened bunny, but you know he’s not the danger here. 
When you don’t listen, he lifts you off the ground. The crowd is swarming, frantic and disorganized, but James maneuvers through it expertly, running down the hall until he finds an unlocked door. The bathroom door swings open for you, and James sets you down quickly, locking it before you have a second to recover. 
You lunge for the door anyway, only for twin bands to wrap around your middle. They pin your arms to your sides and press you securely to James’ front. 
“Stop. Stop it.” His tone is as hard as his grip, dispassionate to your struggling. “You cannot fight me when you’re in danger, understand?” 
“They’re not here for me,” you plead. Your voice is scratchy with desperation. 
“No, but I am. I’m here for you.” His hold tightens, but now it’s less a restraint than a comfort. You can feel his heavy breaths tickling past your ear. “Your mom has her own detail, okay? She made it out before we did, they probably have her somewhere safe.” 
Now you can hear your breathing too. Short, stilted pants that wheeze in and out of you. You think you might be shaking. 
“That’s enough,” James says gently, starting to lower you both to the ground. Your knees give easily, relinquishing your weight to his hold until he settles you both on the tiled floor. “That’s enough, alright? Can I let you go now?” 
You’re not sure you want him to anymore, but you nod. He slips out from behind you, checking the lock on the bathroom door and then removing his gun from the holster at his hip. The sight of it makes your trembling worsen. He checks something with it while murmuring to the people on the other end of his earpiece, convoluted jargon you’ve long since ceased paying attention to. 
“She’s fine,” he says after a minute. “Your mom. They got her into an office, and now we’re all just waiting for security to clear the building before we can go.” 
You drop your head to your knees, relief like a tidal wave washing over you. You hear James’ footsteps move back toward you before his big hand lands on your head. It smooths down your hair as he squats next to you. When you glance at his gun balanced on his knee, he catches the look. 
“I have to keep this out for now,” he says, looking you in your eyes like he’s making a promise, “but the safety’s staying on unless someone tries to come in here. Okay?” 
“Yeah.” You nod, still trying to get your breathing under control. 
James strokes your head again, his touch weighty and reassuring. The noise outside of the bathroom seems to be lessening, but you’re not sure how much sound is blocked by the door. There could be shooting still happening just past it, people hurt or dying in the halls. 
“I’m sorry for fighting you so hard,” you say quietly. 
James blows out a breath. “I get it,” he admits. “In those situations, it’s natural to freak out and head toward the person you want to keep safe.” He flashes you a little smile. “I’m lucky it’s already my job to do that.” You grimace back, but his expression grows serious again when he says, “You just have to keep your head, though, you know? The whole reason you and your mom have protection is to make sure someone else is already looking out for you. You don’t need to worry about her, you just need to trust me.” 
You look at him. His body is still taut, ready for a fight if one comes to him, but his expression is gentle. It’s easy to forget it’s his job to take care of you when he seems to do it so naturally. Caring emanates from James like it’s the core component of his soul. 
“I do trust you,” you tell him. 
His mouth slants, expression unbearably fond. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll work on those instincts, okay? I get that it’s not an easy adjustment to make.” 
“Have you ever had to do that? Run away from the person you cared about the most?” 
He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m lucky. I always get to run towards you.”
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kingtomura · 4 months
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Good Girl
Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off. 
Bad idea. 
Word count: 4k
part two is here!
Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry
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You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. 
“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”
“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”
Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins. 
There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way. 
“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating. 
He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse.  “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.” 
This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.
And Tomura was going to be upset.
In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in. 
He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.
You text him.
You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 
It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.
There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off. 
And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window. 
A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts. 
You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick. 
Tap. 
There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination. 
Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.
It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.
Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work. 
You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here. 
You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you. 
Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.
“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear. 
“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki. 
He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”
You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”
“He can't do that.”
You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse.  “I don't want it to be this way.”
“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”
Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.
Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up. 
You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment. 
You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist. 
Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn–  the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.
“Get on the bed.” 
And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver. 
“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”
You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again. 
He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away. 
The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room. 
“Be quiet for me, yeah?” 
Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”
The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you. 
This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and  sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over– 
Knock knock.
“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.” 
It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference. 
Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both. 
“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”
At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit. 
If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”
You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet. 
“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.” 
His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave. 
“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.” 
It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”
Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you. 
He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock. 
“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm. 
Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” 
Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip. 
“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it. 
His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you.  You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.
Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets. 
The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy. 
“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.” 
You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”
“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.” 
There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”
You are so fucked.
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the-likesofus · 2 months
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Buddie Fic Recs
This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS
where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k
After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend. 
i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k
Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.
meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k
A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??
The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k
Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx
can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k
Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.
We Found Each Other (Over There)  by @thekristen999 | T | 46k
Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again. 
the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k
AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family. 
like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k
Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!
find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes  | M | 19k
The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!
and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k
Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.
he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k 
APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious. 
every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k 
Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.
left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k
Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending
ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD. 
endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k 
Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.
don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k
Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC! 
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wen-kexing-apologist · 2 months
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Unknown Ep 7 Brain Rot Moments
First of all, this show is incredible. 
Second of all, I haven’t stopped thinking about certain parts of this episode and that means I want to write about them. But I have absolutely no idea what there is to say besides “!!!!!!” 
So I guess here are the small movements of the episode I cannot get over:
The way Qian’s hand hits the couch and bounces on to his lap when San Pang asks him if he has feelings for Yuan. And I honestly can’t tell how much of what I love about it comes from the motion itself, this loss of strength that drops his arm limp beside him when faced with such a question, or if it is the sound of his hand hitting the couch that really sells it for me. The sound when Qian’s hand hits the couch is short and sharp and for some reason that noise feels like an answer to me. Especially because it is followed by silence from Qian. For me, Qian’s hand hitting the couch is his admission.
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I don’t think this line was an intentional call back to last week’s episode and it certainly isn’t structured for peak emotional impact, but that does not mean that hearing San Pang tell Qian to stand straight didn’t immediately give me war flashbacks to Qian telling Yuan to stand straight in the midst of Yuan’s confession in Episode 6
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Just so many parts of the phone call, probably like all of the phone call scene is just gonna be burnt in to my skull for a considerable time, but especially the way Chris is so legible in expressing Qian’s hesitation, and the way that Kurt is so legible in expressing Yuan’s desperation. I loved the initial panic of Qian feeling the weight of what he was about to do and trying to bail out, the way that Yuan immediately calls him back because he is not going to let this opportunity sneak past, the way that Qian is breathing, how tense he is, how much he has to breathe to steady himself, to mentally prepare to answer the phone and have this conversation.
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gifs by @ueasking
How tiny Yuan’s voice is, contrasted with how big his eyes are when he says hello because he can’t believe that this is actually happening. 
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How awkward Qian is here, this may perhaps be the most awkward I have seen Qian act. There is so much uncertainty in this conversation with him, the way he has to pull the “how have you been?” question out of his own head, the way he chews his lip as he listens to Yuan’s life updates.
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The way Yuan’s lower jaw moves when he is desperately trying to find other topics of conversation, other questions he can ask Qian to keep this conversation going longer. The way that his silence goes on just long enough for Qian to get the “anything else?” question out. The way his jaw moves and his eyes widen and he leans forward when Qian says “bye bye.” It’s exactly the type of reaction I would see from someone trying to physically reach out to someone that is just beyond their grasp. He can’t yell wait to a dial tone.
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gif by @ueasking
The way Qian starts to notice Yuan. He fully has not see his face at this point, he hasn’t heard his voice, or his name. But he is staring at Yuan’s shoes with his mouth slightly agape, because he recognizes them.
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The way his eyes eventually work their way up in his disbelief, to look at Yuan’s head. The way that he immediately reaches out to Yuan, puts his hand on Yuan’s shoulder. It makes me think about how much Qian wants to, needs to be connected to Yuan. Because the time between when he figures out who is standing in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder is near instantaneous.
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Following that, the way Yuan slides Qian’s hand off of his shoulder when he is talking with the businessmen. I do not know what it is about that moment, but considering the preview for Episode 8, it feels very in keeping with a character that is playing hard to get. Even if that isn’t the case here, in front of all of these coworkers is definitely not the place for intimate touching between brothers.
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
I am also thinking about how that does not dissuade Qian, who then reaches straight for Yuan’s neck. Something tells me these side of the neck/side of the face touches are not platonic or brotherly… but I regardless I appreciate the way that Unknown affirms Qian’s reciprocated feelings for Yuan by having him be the one initiating a lot of physical contact after barely being around much less touching people. I think the only time we see Qian initiate physical contact before Yuan’s return is when he grabs San Pang’s arm to stop him from contacting Yuan.
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
The way that Yuan cares for Qian once they are in the taxi and heading home, the gentle removal of Qian’s glasses, tucking Qian’s tie in to his left pocket, right over his heart. The way that the tie sticks up just a bit so you can see a piece of Qian poking through
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
The way Qian does not resist at all when Yuan reaches over and slips his arm behind Qian’s neck. The way that Qian lets himself slide further and further until his head is resting against Yuan’s shoulder. Yuan did not pull Qian down, Yuan didn’t push, Qian fully moved THE WAY YUAN RUBS HIS THUMB AGAINST QIAN’S UPPER ARM.
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gif by @aejeonghae
The way Yuan breathes in this scene to regulate himself because a lot has just happened, because Qian is Right There, because Qian reached out, because Qian is touching him, because he is back home after four years with a lot of uncertainty hanging in the air.
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
I don’t know about anyone else, but I will be thinking about Yuan putting his hand around Qian’s waist as Qian walks towards the bed. This is an entirely unnecessary action from a movement standpoint as in Qian is able to walk on his own, and Yuan slides this hand to settle at Qian’s waist as they walk, so he isn’t using it as a way to support or steer Qian. That feels like a stolen moment for Yuan, and opportunity for him to hold Qian in ways he has wanted to.
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The massage Qian is getting from both Lili and Yuan, this is such an interesting moment for me because it places Yuan’s action here firmly in the familial, siblings category since he and Lili are performing the exact same action. And not only that but they are bickering like siblings do while they massage Qian’s shoulders. Unknown does not and will not stop reminding its audience what this story is about, who this romance is between. Yuan being adopted, Yuan being sent away for four years does not make Yuan any less of a brother to Qian or Lili. They did this earlier in the taxi too, Yuan tells the businessmen that Qian is his brother, Qian tells the businessmen Yuan is his little brother. The time and the distance has not changed how they view each other, they do not lie about the nature of their relationship to one another. There is no fresh start here.
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THE EYEBROW QUIRK. GOD I THINK THIS IS MY FAVORITE MOMENT OF THE EPISODE. I literally cannot even explain why, I could not tell you what Qian is reacting to here. Personally I think it is an attraction to Yuan thing, that it’s as much of an admission of his feelings for Yuan as the sound of his hand hitting the couch was.
This tired, but genuinely happy smile, dimple and all, hearing Lili and Yuan bickering in the hallway. Yuan and Lili are here. Yuan and Lili are being ridiculous. Yuan and Lili have fallen right back in to their dynamic despite the time apart. Everything is as it should be. Yuan is here. Everything is going to change. Yuan is here. Yuan is here. Yuan is here.
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gif by @ueasking
I have said it before and I will say it again that I am not a fan of incest plotlines, I especially have a lot of qualms around romantic and sexual relationships between adoptive siblings, partially because I think it undercuts the fact that they are family. It bothered me in The Fosters, it overwhelmingly bothers me in Umbrella Academy, it bothers me when “we may actually be related” plotlines are added to things (looking at you Shadowhunters series). I recognize a pattern with the ones that I hate being all heterosexual relationships, and I think some of that hatred stems from the fact that a lot of these plots exist because there aren’t enough women in those stories. 
I find it interesting that I had no problems with Ai Di and Chen Yi in Kiseki: Dear to Me because we never see them being raised together and thus there is a massive separation. And I currently don’t have any problems with Qian and Yuan inevitably getting together, for precisely the opposite reason. Unknown has really put the time and effort into showing the dynamics, into building the childhood, in to seeing where these characters came from, into turning these characters into siblings. Yuan understands from the beginning why he should not confess to Qian. Qian reacts to Yuan’s confession in a way I think is realistic. They have four years of no contact, they have four years to reflect on what happened that day, how they feel about each other. They have four years to see what life is like without the other person there, if they can survive it. And Qian cannot. 
But Unknown is not going to let us forget that these are brothers. San Pang knows it is wrong but doesn’t have the words to express it. His aparpent relationship to Lili will serve as an interesting parallel to Qian and Yuan’s relationship because San Pang considers them all family, considers Qian his brother, and yet here he is dating a member of that family. Idk I guess I just feel like they are handling the contents of this show very well, and I am going feral for the physicality of these actors. 
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fettuccin-e · 8 months
Text
A Kind of Demon
Kinktober Day 3: Monster AU
Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, Incubus!Din Djarin, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, Din has a demon dick lol, force sex? yeah pretty much, fingering, overstimulation, making up my own demon lore as I go (w/c: 1.7K)
A/N: SO I have never, ever written something like this so this was way way out of my comfort zone, but I wanted to try it out! I really like incubus!Din, so I might come back to him again, who knows. Din does have like "force powers" in this, but since it's not the Star Wars universe, it's just like demon magic lol. (I am using prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)
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You should be terrified of the power he has over you. 
You’d hadn’t meant to summon someone like him, something other. He looks vaguely human, or is just human-shaped, but he’s covered in a dark, metallic armor that makes him seem more mythical than man. And the power he exudes cannot be explained as anything other than supernatural. 
He calls himself a Mandalorian, a word that seems made up, not of this world. It’s a type of demon, he tells you, his sentences controlled and short, the type that you’d summoned. A kind of incubus.
“I didn’t summon a fucking demon!” you yell, throwing object after object at him, anything you can find. They bounce off of his dark armor, and he stands stock still, unfeeling and utterly monstrous. He says your name in a way that has your knees buckling on the spot, from fear, of course. 
“I have been summoned to you, whether intentional, or unintentional. Your unconscious needs have brought me to you, and I cannot leave until my duty has been fulfilled.” His voice is clear and deep through the metal helmet shielding his face, and try as you might to peer into the dark visor, all you can see is nothingness.
“What does an incubus even do?” you shout, throwing your hands into the air. He chuckles in a truly demonic way, terrifying and somehow endlessly charming.
“Are you lonely, little one?” he said, stepping forward and looming over you like a fucking predator. You don’t answer, staring straight ahead into his armored chest, lips pursed. Why the fuck would he have to know that? Your, frankly terrible, sex life is none of his business.
His gloved hand reaches forward to nudge your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, even though you can’t see his eyes.
“All of these needs, trapped in your pretty little head, I can feel them. I can see them. Fantasizing in the dark night after night with your fingers in your pussy, desperate for someone to take care of you. I can see everything you want, and I can do it for you. I can take care of you, little one.” You swallow, harsh and painful, like sandpaper down your throat.
Your pussy soaks through your panties as he murmurs darkly into your ear. “You only need to say yes, girl, and I will make you feel so, so good.”
Your head swims, your knees weak and your body aching as you whisper a yes.
God, you should be terrified. Terrified of the way he takes control so easily. How, with only a touch, he makes your clothes vanish like nothing, leaving you bare to his invisible eyes. You should be scared for your life at the way you can feel his power all around you, touching every inch of your shaking body, pressing you backward to lay on your bed. Instead, your pussy leaks between your quaking thighs. A force, his force, you realize, invisible and yet so solid it might as well be his hands, strokes across your body, against your throbbing clit. A choked moan rips its way out of your throat. 
“That’s right girl, let me take care of you,” he murmurs, looming over you as he steps forward to kneel on the bed. “I can take any form you want, just tell me. Is there someone you desire?”
Oh. You’d hadn’t realized it was an option, for him to take the shape of someone else. He could be anything, you realized, a crush, a celebrity, even yourself. The realization makes you stock still, wracking your brain for someone, anyone. But looking up at him, with his dark visor and broad chest, God, you don’t want him to be anyone else. Just the sheer sight of him has you desperate enough.
“No,” you breathe, a little too eagerly. “No, this- this is fine.”
He pauses. All of him, his chest, his mouth, the force he has enveloping you. You both stare at each other, stock still and silent. And then, he moves. 
He’s got you turned over on your sheets in seconds, your face pressed into the mattress as he hikes your hips up. You clutch desperately at the sheets as he sinks two thick fingers into you, gloriously human but somehow not human at all. There’s no way he could be human when he finds that spot so deep inside, the spot that you can barely reach half the time, immediately.
“Holy- holy fucking shit, oh fuck,” you choke on your moans as he grinds the pads of his fingers into you, sending lightning ricocheting up your spine. Your hips twitch back into his hand without your permission, desperate for the kind of touch you haven’t experienced in so long.
“That’s it, girl, take what you need from me,” he growls, fucking his fingers into you at a pace that is truly obscene. His force surrounds you, a warmth that cannot be explained in earthly terms. It ghosts across your nipples, surrounding them and pulling on them in a way that brings tears to your eyes. It moves down and presses hard on your clit, flicking across it in a way that feels like a fucking tongue. You can’t hold back the way you scream.
He sinks another finger into you, stretching you out more than you have been in months, years. Maybe I have needed this, you think. Maybe I did summon him.
He leans over you, close enough that he is able to murmur directly into your ear, “Think you can take my cock, little one?”
The whine you let out is downright embarrassing. “Please.”
You glance behind yourself, to where the Mandalorian has his thick fingers buried deep in your cunt, to where he’s pulling out his cock with the other hand. That, for the first time, is distinctly inhuman. His cock is huge, so big that you have a brief thought about it splitting you in two, right down the middle. Rigid bumps run down his length, and the tip is thick, leaking, and oh shit, you want him in your mouth, you want him in your pussy, you want him fucking everywhere. 
“Fuck me,” you whine, and the demon chuckles. 
“Do you really think you can take me, girl?” He growls.
“I wanna try, oh please, please, I need it, ah-” he cuts off your whining by ripping his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and gaping. It doesn’t last very long before he notches the head of his cock against your entrance and pushes.
The stretch seems fucking endless. You can only clutch the pillows and sob as he breaks you apart on his thick cock, reaching so deep you swear you can feel him in your fucking lungs. It should hurt, God it should hurt, but his force only makes you relax as he pulls you back onto him. You feel dizzy with it, the way that force keeps licking maddeningly at your clit, pulling at your nipples while the biggest cock you’ve ever had settles deep inside.
You cum. Just from the way he sinks into you, fills you like you’ve always been empty, and you’ve only been missing him all your life. You writhe against the sheets, clutching at your pillow as you convulse around his cock. It’s debilitating, destructive, and all you can think of is how much you need more.
“It’s- oh fuck, it’s- I can’t,” you sob over your words, tears leaking down your cheeks, but you can’t help but press back into his body, trying to get him as deep as possible.
The demon snarls, using a thick hand to reach forward and grab your wrists together, pinning them to the small of your back. He pulls his hips back, slowly, so slow that you can feel every bump drag endlessly over your walls, before he drives back into you so hard the breath is knocked out of your lungs, the tip grinding deep into that spot he’s able to find so easily.
Then, the Mandalorian fucks you. No, fucking is too gentle. There is no earthly term to describe how he destroys you in a way that is so pure, so primal. He holds onto your wrists and drags you back onto his cock with every thrust, keeping you at his mercy while you can only moan and cry as he rips you apart into a million little pieces. You feel like a bitch in heat, getting fucked like that is all you’re meant to do. The demon uses you like a fucking toy, his force sucking at your abused little clit endlessly.
You can hear little grunts escaping his mouth with every thrust, tiny uh, uh, uhs that have your head spinning. You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when this man, this demon, is fucking you within an inch of your life, ruining you for anyone, anything else.
Your pussy makes obscene noises around him, echoing throughout the room as your headboard smacks hard against the wall. You can barely even make a noise anymore, overwhelmed sobs forcing their way out of your throat every time he reaches deep, deep into your body. 
“I can feel you clenching for me. Are you going to cum for me again?” He growls. “Go on then, little girl, make a mess of yourself.”
Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you squeeze tight around his cock, your body trembling in his hold. He fucks you through it, prolonging it, and it’s too much, it’s too fucking much. Your vision blurs, your head light and fuzzy, and you can only gasp wetly as the world blinks into darkness.
As your eyes blink open again, you’re warm. Your sheets feel clean, smelling of lavender and chamomile, and your room is blissfully, astonishingly quiet. You sit up in bed, a twinge going through your arms, and you nearly scream as you look across the room to see the Mandalorian standing still in your doorway, unmoving.
“Are you alright, girl?” he says, like he hadn’t just ripped you apart in every way that matters.
“Uh,” you cross your arms over yourself, feeling strangely vulnerable. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
He nods, once. “Good. My duties have been fulfilled.” He doesn’t let you get a word in.
You blink, and the Mandalorian is gone.
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dearsnow · 8 months
Text
ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)
- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)
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word count: 2,647
a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!
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It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.
“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.
Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know for sure. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.
You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.
“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.
Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.
He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.
He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”
You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”
“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.
He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.
It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.
Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.
“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.
“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”
Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.
You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.
He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.
He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.
“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”
Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”
He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.
You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?
“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.
“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.
It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.
By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.
You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.
“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.
You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.
You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.
“What do you think about Y/N?”
Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”
There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”
Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”
Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”
“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”
“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.
Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.
After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.
He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”
You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.
Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.
“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.
“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”
Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.
“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”
For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.
You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”
“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.
“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.
He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.
He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.
“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.
When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.
Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“
He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.
When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.
“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”
He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”
You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”
“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”
“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.
“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”
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jilixthinker · 5 months
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Lee Know with aphrodisiacs. THATS ALL I'M ASKING FOR. LEE KNOW + APHRODISIACS.
anon 💖 this has been sitting in my requests for the longest time! 🤧 but such an honest concept, i have been thinking about this a lot.
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=͟͟͞♡ lee know × fem!reader
=͟͟͞♡ chocolate aphrodisiacs (hard thought)
Minho who is usually the brattiest of brats, always teasing and answering back before giving you what you asked him, until the day you try feeding him special christmas chocolate pralines and he just melts in your embrace while you are watching home alone on your sofa.
You are splayed on the couch, Minho squirming on top of you, straddling your laps and softly nibbling at your earlobe, quiet moans directly on your skin while you caress his plush tighs.
"Uhm... b-baby... I am so hot -ah- why does it f-feel so hot?"
You turn your head to kiss his jaw. His face is flushed and red, and his skin feels very warm against your lips.
"Oh kitty... you knew the chocolate was going to work. but you said you could resist, don't you? Mh... did you change your mind already?"
Minho moves from your ear to start licking at your neck. His tongue is soft and wet and he sucks tiny kisses near your collarbones.
"Uh- mh. Wan' to..."
He stutters while moving a bit above you, his body is feverish, semi-hard cock already forming a tent, the underline of it looking delicious. You move your hand to play with the head over the fabric of his pants, feeling the way it twitches under your touch.
"Want to what, princess? Tell me, I might give it to you since you are so nice and good today."
Minho sighs and looks at you from his spot, nuzzled on the crook of your neck. His lips are still stained with the remains of the chocolate his ate before, collected in the corner of his lips.
You grab his chin with your fingers and you slowly start to lick all over his parted mouth, the sweet taste of the chocolate invading your taste buds together with a little bit of his saliva.
Minho moans directly in your mouth, your hand still teasing the tip of his clothed cock.
"W-wan' to suck, please, please, let me... ah-"
You bite his lower lip and you slide your tongue against it, shoving your hand into his pants and palming him before grabbing his heavy balls and squish them softly.
"Kitty wants to suck but he's so lost than cannot tell me what? Aw, baby..."
You coo condescendingly and you keep rolling one warm ball on your hand, the weight so nice on your fingers.
"W-whatever.. please, I need it - ah."
You crush your lips against his, finally grabbing his cock fully and starting to jerk him off, the squelching sounds so dirty in the room.
"Kitty, you're so wet.. mh- so wet like a girl. My dirty baby."
You circle your wrist against his head, precum gushing out of his slit while minho lets out the most loving sighs on your lips. You start to rub on the sensitive spot under his tip and his tongue lolls out of his mouths.
"I'm gonna decide for you, pretty. Suck on my tongue while I get my filthy princess off, mh?"
Minho nods frantically and takes your wet muscle in between his swollen lips, starting to suck on it messily, spit soaking both of your chins.
When he comes, he lets out the most desperate moan, all shivering and trembling while spurting all of his release inside his underwear.
"Good kitty, so cute and obedient for me."
You kiss his temple and Minho crashes on your body. The smell of chocolate is still in the air.
Oh, you definitively have to do this more often.
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igotanidea · 11 months
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Mine: AK!Jason x reader
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Is it second update today? Yes. But I'm on a roll and I simply cannot keep @thesandsofelsweyr waiting anymore (thank you for requesting!)
Summary/request: "why are you shaking" angst with AK! Jason
Warning: a bit smut-ish, but nothing explicit. (not in this part at least....)
***
„Why are you shaking?” he didn’t even bother taking his helmet off and the distorted voice coming from it really did make her tremble. Not that she was going to admit it, even though he was angry at her.
“I’m… I’m not.” she stuttered
“Stop lying to me!” oh, shit, he was angry. What about? Did she do something? Or did his other mission went south? Again? He wasn’t telling her anything, how the hell was she supposed to guess what got him spinning?
“I’m sorry.” She squealed and took a step back, slouching to make herself smaller “I….”
“What did you do?” he hissed
“No…. nothing, I swear…..”
“Nothing?” he took another step forward, the words hanging in the air like an axe that could fall onto her neck in a second. She had to be extremely careful at the moment. “Nothing, princess?”
“I…..”
“so you are trying to tell me, you weren’t fantasizing about your past life? Hm?”
“Jace, I…..”
“Stop calling me that!” he yelled, grabbing her arm and shaking her violently, getting another broken sob which she could not hold back “it’s not who I am anymore!”
“But you are….” She tried to calm him, but it was for nothing
“I don’t know what little fantasy you got in your head, but let me tell you: it’s not gonna come true.”
“please….” she begged struggling against his bruising grip
“Look around, Y/N. See where you are? This is Arkham. Not Wayne Manor.”
“I know… I know… I…..”
“Shut up! When will it get into your silly little head?! No one, no one is coming to save you!
“I don’t need to be saved….. I’m with you and ……”
“Me?” he laughed viciously “you still think you can save me? Oh, honey.” He raised his gloved hand and brushed her cheek, but it was more threatening than loving and she shook upon the harsh feeling “such a delusional, brainwashed, stupid girl, aren’t you? Batman won’t rescue you! And neither will Robin. And definitely not Nightwing! Oh… “sudden realization hit him “that’s who you were thinking about while touching yourself weren’t you?” those cameras he had all over Asylum were not for nothing. “Did those silly dirty thoughts make you come?”
“Wha….. what? I didn’t …… How…..?”
“STOP LYING TO ME!” he yelled again, this time in full voice and a few tears fell down her cheeks. He still didn’t believe she loved him. HIM. Not his brother. His twisted mind worked in two completely opposite directions. On one hand he was jealous and possessive and wanted her under him, wanted to love her, on the other abused and threatened her, convinced that those were the only methods of keeping her. Jason was simply too afraid of letting her lose, worried that the second he let go she would run away, not wanting to stay with the monster like him. He believed he needed to force her to love him, no matter how much she assured him it was different.
How wrong he was.
And it made her angry and desperate. Determined enough to sacrifice her own health and safety to prove that to him.
“I DON’T FUCKING CARE ABOUT NIGHTWING! I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” she yelled through the tears, not caring about the consequences of that outburst. “I don’t….. it’s you…. It’s…..” her voice broke, as well as her legs and she found herself on the floor, unable to stand anymore.
Well, not for long, since Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her back to her feet, pressing her back to the wall. For a moment they just stayed like that and then he removed his helmet, finally reveling his face, those beautiful eyes conveying so many mutually exclusive emotions. With one hand he tossed it to the floor, not caring anymore and she trembled, suddenly fully aware how close he was and how many pain he could bring her.
Not more than Harley though.
“Y/N….” he whispered “Y/N, Y/n, Y/n…..” her name fell from his lips like a silent prayer.
“I’m ready for my punishment now.” she closed her eyes
“You’re such a good little pet, aren’t you?” he laughed condescendingly “are you scared of me?” he removed one of his glove and traced her trembling bottom lip.
“No.”
“You should be.” he whispered those cliché words and not giving her any opportunity to answer leaned forward and kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t delicate. It never was with him.
It was angry and rough and animalistic and predatory, almost like he wanted to swallow her whole. Y/N moaned at the feeling and locked her hands on his neck, pulling him closer. Since this time he was still in his armor, Jason did not push her away. She couldn’t truly feel his body and scars under all those layers so that he could accept. But it didn’t mean she was off the hook. He bit on her bottom lip. Hard, drawing a bit of blood and the metallic taste of it in his mouth spur him on even more. He grabbed her legs and locked them on his waist, hoisting her up in the process, grinding against her, getting some more of her sweet sounds. “Did it feel so good in your fantasies with Nightwing?” he mumbled into her skin, mouth tracing the path starting on her jaw, ending on her collarbone.
“No…” she whined, tangling hands in his hair, pulling lightly, not strong enough to try and explain that it was never Nightwing in her wet dreams “No…..”
“You’re not getting away from me.” He bit on the sensitive skin, her head falling back in ecstasy. “You’re mine.”
“Yes. Yes. I’m yours. Please….” she wanted so much more from him, but asking would be just so stupid
“You want more, princess?”
“please….”
“too bad I’m not into giving mood.” He smirked and let go off her, causing her to drop to the floor. Again. It was just getting to intimate for her and he couldn’t not have that. “Too bad you will have to take care of yourself. I expect a little show tonight, princess. And you better think about me while coming. You hear me?” he crouched next to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes on him.
“Yes.” She nodded
“I want to hear you moan my name. And then maybe, maybe….  you can convince me to help you. It’s up to you whether I’ll be good for you or not. Just remember….” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear “you’re mine.”
And then, almost like nothing happened, he stood up, collected his helmet and left the room, leaving her panting and gasping and with the sudden urge to give him the best show of his life.  
Anything to have him.
Anything....
.............
@jasontoddsthickbabe - fixing my negligence here 😁😉
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yanderemommabean · 5 months
Text
Venting post (Homelife and abuse I guess)
Sorry for the low energy beans, my abusive grandmas been screeching her lungs out every night for hours on end and demanding the stupidest things, so I haven’t been getting much sleep.
She literally talked to me like a dog today, telling me “Come on, come here girl, come do this for me, come on”. Talk about dehumanizing.
No matter what I say or do she calls me: Lazy, selfish, slobbish, ugly and stupid, and demands that I stay on “her side” when other people tell her to back off in the family. She’ll tell me I’m a piece of shit lowlife even if I do exactly what she wants, or she’ll degrade me and mock me just because she can, and apparently we can’t do anything about that.
She genuinely needs to either die, or go to a mental institution, because my heart can’t take this stress it’s bad enough, and not being able to sleep because she’s a demanding baby is going to end up killing me.
Even if I try to ignore her, being silent does nothing and she’ll threaten more violence or nonsense, or just scream and scream and scream until you’re forced to answer, then acts like she did nothing wrong to warrant your outburst.
Going to my room does nothing, she’s right by me, her yelling and screaming and demanding cannot be blocked out.
I’m aware that I need to leave, but to do that I have to have a place to go, a car to drive, or a friend I trust and I do not have food let alone money and an income to rely on if I moved out. I don’t own a car, I’m trying to get a job DESPERATELY and my friends don’t have any room for me at their place, and have stated as such.
So I’m more or less stressed to the max and wondering why she can’t just be taken somewhere because I cannot take care of her and she refuses to listen to anyone or let anyone rest. Even if you act soft and sweet and caring she’ll spit at you this nonsense and try in some way to threaten or demean you.
There’s no “talking it out” because she doesn’t CARE. She’s never cared, not once.
I’m exhausted and I’ve been putting up with this nonsense for about four or five days now and if I don’t sleep soon and actually rest idk I might be sent to the hospital.
I hate this woman. She’s making me extremely Ill and distressed and for NOTHING.
This was just me venting, sorry loves, she’s up again and so am I so I’m trying to distract myself <3
I love you beans, stay safe and healthy
-Mommabean
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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months
Text
pining & desperately waiting | javier peña
take the weight off his shoulders - chapter two
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Chapter Summary | As much as he’s trying to keep his distance there is just something about you that Javier cannot stay away from. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, so to speak. He's worried about you too, putting yourself in harms way for your work.
Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, mention of smoking and drinking alcohol, mention of drugs, drug deaths and the drug trade, explicit smut - masturbation (F)
Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.2k
Authors Note | When I tell you I love this (specific) man, I am telling you I love him. He consumes me. Thank you to @hellishjoel for letting me scream about these two with her and helping me figure this chapter out! If you like this I would love for you to join me in my ask box for screaming and please consider reblogging to support me! If you enjoyed this, you can make a donation to my Ko-Fi if you'd like to support me that way.
I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist
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You dream of him every night for a week after that night at the bar. They’re filthy, depraved sometimes, and you always wake up, slick pooling between your thighs, fingers working furiously before your alarm goes off to try a satiate you, or at least tide you over until you can climb back into bed that night and really take your time to imagine all the ways Javier would take you apart with his fingers, with his mouth, with his…. 
“Are you even listening to me?” 
You want to answer honestly and say no, you were busy daydreaming about getting railed by your dad’s buddy, but when you look across the table and see your boss practically glaring at you, you realise it’s probably for the best to lie a little. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, picking up your pen, “Didn’t sleep well, what were you saying?” 
“The fundraiser tomorrow,” She speaks, “For Dylan’s foundation, would you be okay to cover it?” 
You nod, because it makes sense for it to be you. Dylan had overdosed just over a year ago – seemingly on top of things, doing well in school and incredibly bright, found slouched over on a street corner, dead from an overdose before he’d been able to leave the small town for whatever bright lights he was destined for. He was just one of a string of drug-related deaths over the past twelve months – an ‘epidemic’ as they had coined it – the town too close to Mexico to escape the trade that Javier himself had worked so hard to quell. Dylan’s parent’s had set up a small foundation after his death, hoping to help other young kids who could be lured into this stuff to have other opportunities in their lives. 
“What kinda thing are you thinking?” You ask, starting to jot down notes as she speaks. 
“Just some reaction from people there, why they’ve decided to come out and support, maybe try and grab one of his parents, just the usual really, and we can run a story in the following days, might help drum up some more support for them if nothing else.” 
You nod, doing your usual with your notes of underlining the important parts, making notes on the kind of questions you’ll ask when you speak to people, “How many words have I got to work with?” 
“I think we can give them a page,” She says, looking to her boss who nods in agreement, “So whatever you produced for last month’s story, that should be good.” 
You nod, making a note of that too, and then continue to zone out for the rest of the meeting as everyone talks amongst themselves, mind going right back to Javi and what he would feel like putting his weight on you, settling between your thighs. You really needed to get a grip. 
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“Oh, isn’t it so nice to see such a good turn out today?” Your mom gushes, looking around at what feels like the whole of Laredo milling about a number of stalls that are selling all sorts of different things. 
“Sure is good to see,” Your dad agrees, putting his hands on your shoulders to give them a squeeze, “You want us to leave you to your reporting, pumpkin?” 
The nickname makes you wince a little, a moniker from your early days, before you’d filled out into your body. It was cute, but at twenty-five years of age, you do sometimes wish he’d find something else to call you. 
“I shouldn’t be too long,” You turn around and smile at him, “I can come and find you in a little while.” 
You wander around, introducing yourself to a few people asking them questions and jotting down notes. You’ve just finished speaking to Martina, famous throughout town for owning her own candle business, about why she’s supporting the foundation, when you step back and feel two sturdy hands holding onto your waist. You’re about to turn around and slap whoever it is for touching you, when that deep voice hits your ears.
“Careful, querida,” Javier fucking Peña, “Almost stood on my foot.” 
You whip around, mainly to put a bit of distance between the two of you, because it felt like his lips had been inches from your ear. He drops one of his hands, but keeps the other ghosting at your side, maybe to keep you steady more than anything as you wobble from the speed at which you’ve turned around. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t stand too close then?” You offer, making sure it comes out more playful than anything, because actually, all you really want is for his body to press against you more often. 
“Fair point,” He shrugs, “Thought I recognized you so I wanted to say hi,” He finally lets that other hand drop from your waist, “So hi.” Is... Is he nervous? 
You chuckle a little, “Hi,” you respond simply with a smile, “I didn’t expect to see you here,” You say honestly, this wasn’t his kind of scene before, you can’t imagine it’s any more appealing to him now, “Didn’t think it was your kind of scene.” 
He rubs a hand nervously over the back of his neck, “It’s not, I’ve been made to come,” He nods his head behind him where Chucho is talking to a group of other ranchers, “Apparently I’ve got to start showing my face more.” 
“Well, it’s a nice face,” your mouth speaks before your brain can catch up with what it’s saying, you inwardly cringe when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, I’m sure people are happy to see you around.” Is all you can think to say to try and get him to forget the weird compliment. 
He seems to smile, but like it had been across the table almost two weeks ago, his smile seems forced, “Just wish I could skip the bullshit about everyone being proud of me.” 
“But it’s true,” You shrug, moving away from the stall with him so other people can in front of you to look, “You did really good things out there.” 
He scoffs now, shaking his head a little, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, querida,” He speaks, “Surely you should know that more than anyone.” 
You don’t know what he’s actually trying to say, but you decide to play it light, “Are you accusing me of lying in my stories, Peña?” You say with a smirk. 
“Perhaps not you,” He offers, “But I know plenty of journalists who know how to twist a story to get what they want,” He looks down at his shoes, kicking at the gravel a little, “Just don’t want you thinking I’m something I’m not.” 
“Been gone a long time,” You muse, “You might have to spend some time reminding me who you are.” 
It’s flirting the lines of maybe being too much you think, but you’ve not said anything that’s not true. He has been gone a long time, and if what he’s said is anything to go by, he will have to remind you of who he is or show you how he’s changed. 
“Not sure you’d like who I am now very much, querida.” He says simply. 
You’re about to open your mouth to respond, tell him you’re pretty sure that wouldn’t be true and that there isn’t a thing he could do on this earth that would make you think he was a bad person, but before you can, Chucho is coming up behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder. 
“Ah, mija,” He smiles at you, “You here alone?” 
“Hey Chucho,” You greet with a smile, “Mom and dad are around somewhere, I’m just here working on a story.” You hold up your notepad and pen.
“Let’s see if we can’t find them, huh Javi?” Chucho muses to his son, “Get you a nice cold lemonade for when you’re finished?” He motions to the blazing sun and then back to you. 
“Sounds lovely, thank you,” You motion over their shoulder to where Dylan’s parents are stood, “I just need to speak to them, and I’ll come and find you.” 
Javi doesn’t say goodbye, just follows closely behind Chucho as they disappear into the crowds, leaving you to wander over to Dylan’s parents. They’re not strangers to the paper, your boss had written a story with them not long after Dylan’s funeral, trying to spread awareness as to just how deep the drug problem ran in town. The Laredo Morning Times had always been supportive to them, so you didn’t feel the same anxiety you normally did when gathering information for stories, cold calling or knocking on doors trying to introduce yourself before doors are swiftly shut in your face or phones are hung up with a ‘no comment’. 
They’re warm with you as you speak to them, thanking you for coming, thanking the paper for agreeing to cover the event, they even smile, which for a pair who lost their only son in such a horrible way still shocks you for some reason. Their loss hasn’t defined them, only made them stronger, made them determined to stop their pain from happening to anyone else. You make a note to write something equally as poetic in your article. 
The crowds are thinning out a little as the midday sun does its worst. You can feel beads of sweat gathering behind our knees and you curse the fact you hadn’t remembered your hat. You can feel the heat prickling your skin as you spot your parents, sitting on a picnic bench with Javi and Chucho sat opposite them. When you’re close enough to the table, you can see everyone has plastic cups full of lemonade, but there’s one, put in front of the spare spot on the bench next to Javi, that is pink in colour instead of the cloudy yellow of everyone else’s. 
“You get everything you need?” Your dad asks, as you try and fight your legs over the bench in the most graceful way possible. 
“Yeah,” You nod, “Think it’ll make a great piece, Dylan’s parents seem really positive about it all,” You pick up the cup and take a sip, pink lemonade, your favourite, “Thanks for this.” You nod in the direction of your dad. 
“Don’t thank me, Javi got these,” He smiles, “Remembered you preferred pink lemonade and everything.” 
It actually makes your heart swell in your chest. He was always thoughtful, even before he left. Observant almost to a fault. But even after all these years, all of his stress, everything he’s seen, he still knows you well enough to know you prefer the sweeter pink lemonade. You turn your head to him to find him already looking at you with a little smile on his face. 
“Thank you.” You say quietly, sipping through the straw. 
“You’re welcome, dulzura.” 
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Javier Peña is doing a piss poor job of staying away from you, even by his standards. He lasted less than a week before he was waltzing over to you, hands on your waist, buying you pink lemonade because he knows you prefer it. There hasn’t been a night where he hasn’t wrapped his fist around his cock and made himself cum over the thought of you. He finds it easier to drop off to sleep once he’s done it, but his nights are still fitful, full of nightmares, tossing and turning, waking up to sweat soaked sheets and a heaving chest. He wonders briefly, when he lies awake watching the dawn arrive through his curtains, whether your body next to him would ease his nightmares? But then he thinks what if it doesn’t. What if you have to wake up, look at him with those innocent doe eyes and see him for what he really is?  No, he can’t let his darkness cloud you, you don’t deserve that, you deserve someone that going to be gentle with you, someone softer, not him with all his jagged edges. 
He's currently sitting in his truck, just outside of the liquor store, contemplating how badly he wants that packet of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he’d driven out to buy. He’d done alright so far, chewing on his Nicorette gum, but his fingers are itching for the familiarity of a cigarette between his fingers, and he’d finished the bottle of whiskey last night. 
Then, almost like he’s being punished by God, which would make sense really, all things considered, you’re in his eyeline, walking down the street with a woman who is a little older than you, with your notepad and pen clutched in your hand. It’s late and he wonders where you must be going to report at such a late hour, and then he worries, because in his experience, nothing good happens after dark that worth making the newspapers. As the two of you approach him, he leans further out of his open window, holding his arm out to catch your attention. 
“Hey Javi,” You smile, coming to a stop in front of his window, “What are you doing in town?”
“Just picking a few things up,” He answers simply, because this isn’t about him, he needs to know where you’re going, “Where are you going this late?” 
You turn to the older woman you’re with, tell her to go on ahead and you’ll catch her up, “There’s been some kind of drugs bust a few streets over,” You explain, “Sounds like it might be quite big so we’re just going down to see what’s happening.” 
“Your dad working it?” He asks, because if he is, he knows you’ll be okay. 
You shake your head, “Nah, he’s not on nights right now,” You’re shifting back and forth on your feet, clearly itching to get going, “I’ll be alright though, sounds like plenty of dad’s officers are down there.” 
He turns his head back to the steering wheel and then back to you, “Be careful, alright?”
You smile at him again and if he’s not careful, he really could get used to being the person who draws that from you more often, “I know what I’m doing,” You chuckle slightly, and he doesn’t doubt it, not really, “Been covering this kinda shit for a while.” 
Without really thinking about it, he leans over, roots around in the glovebox and pulls out the little card he knows that’s in there. He passes it over to you, letting you take it, “It’s got my number on it,” He explains, “I’ve been in this shit and I just…” He trails off with a sigh, “Just, call me before you write something that might get you in trouble, okay?” 
“Worried about me, Peña?” You smirk, and he thinks above your smile, he’d like to make you smirk more too. 
“I’ve just seen too many good journalists write things that ruin their careers,” He shrugs, trying to play it off but probably doing a terrible job of it, “Don’t want you to make the same mistake.” 
He watches as you turn the card over in your fingers a few times, before smiling at him one last time, “I’ll call you if need you.” And he really hopes you do. 
In that moment, he gives up on trying to resist the call of the liquor store, pulling out his keys from the ignition and opening his door, climbing down onto the pavement. He stalls a little, before he puts a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “Go and get your story, reporter.” And then motions his head for you to go. 
He buys a bottle of whiskey and two packs of cigarettes, smokes two of them before he gets home. He thinks if he were a stronger man he’d have managed to quit, but he’s not, especially when it comes to you. Sure, he knew you before, but this new you? He’s known less than a month and he’s already struggling to stick to his own rules. He steps down from his truck back on the ranch, walks in and pours himself a healthy double, trying to convince himself it’ll be okay, he just needs to keep to himself, but when he’s led in bed at night, thinking of your sweet smile, he thinks this might just be another thing he fails at. 
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It’s late. Too late for you to be awake when you have to be at the office in the morning, but you can’t stop looking at the series of numbers, printed on the little card, underneath the words ‘Javier Peña, DEA.’ It’s out of date, clearly, the DEA nothing more than a memory to him. But it’s the principle of it that matters most. He’s worried about you, and he would only worry if he cared right? 
You set it on your nightstand, switch off the little lamp and plunge yourself into darkness, right at the same time as you plunge your hand under your sleep shorts and through your folds. You’re soaked, because you always are when you think about him, it’s actually sort of pathetic. You sink two fingers into yourself, only briefly, letting out a satisfied breath, dragging your slick fingers back you to slowly circle your clit. 
It's new, the way you always need to take care of yourself. The brief relationship you’d had in college with James hadn’t given you much to work with, you hadn’t really felt desperation to get yourself off like this before. 
Your other hand, currently running over your peaked nipples through your tank top, is itching to reach across to your nightstand, pick up the phone and dial that number. You want to breathe down the phone at him, tell him you’re being so bad, that you need him to help, need that deep voice to guide you through it. As you press your fingers harder into your clit, speeding up your circles and bucking your hips, you wonder what he’d actually do if you did call him. Would he tell you to get lost? You don’t think he would, you think he’d do exactly as you asked, talk you through it. 
You imagine his voice in your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You imagine his hand replacing your own, sinking his fingers into you, using his thumb to work your clit, the rough of his moustache running over the skin of your neck as he kisses you there. It’s the image of him looking down at you, smiling as he makes you cum that tips you over the edge. That flood of relief that rushes through you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep you from whispering his name as your body shakes through your orgasm. 
You wipe your slick fingers on the skin of your thigh, roll over in bed so your back is to the phone, trying to get your breathing under control. You drag the covers up under your chin, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without imagining his strong arm around your waist, his broad chest against your back. Does he snore? You wonder as you try and fall asleep. Would he keep you warm? It’s all running through your head as you sleep, conjuring up dreams that come morning have you realizing something has to give, you have to know, you have to have him. You needed Javier Peña more than the air you breathe, no matter how bad it was to admit that, no matter what it meant, no matter what it would cost, you needed him and you think to yourself as you drive to work, that he might just need you as much as you need him. 
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
cold nights // part ten
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summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.3k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: playlist coming v soon!!
series masterlist // playlist
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Coriolanus lets out a scream of anger as he pulls the weight of the cement block down on the boy again, dishing out every last bit of rage he had over the inconvenience he had caused. He had to. He was sure the tribute was already dead, but one more hit couldn't hurt- not when he needed to make sure he was really done; not when it felt so powerful the first time.
He's breathing heavily, staring down at the body in front of him with his curls falling in his face, preventing him from seeing reality. Shielding him from seeing you.
You open your mouth to speak, but you can't. To ask if he's okay, but clearly he is- that final blow was too late to be a hit out of desperation, panic, or pain. It was pure, unnecessary retaliation. It went against everything you stood for. Everything you said.
Coriolanus was Coriolanus indeed; you could see it in the darkness that suddenly appeared behind his eyes. It was like he had done it for fun.
He looks up only when you take a step back, shoe crunching over the rubble underneath your sole and alerting him to your presence.
"Y/N-"
You look between the boy you thought you knew and the battered body on the ground. You take another hasty step back.
The power he thought he felt was replaced instantly by guilt when he saw the look on your face. He wasn't sure your kind features were even capable of showing an emotion so abrasive as disgust- but that was all he could think of to describe what he had to guess was going on behind your eyes. Betrayal, maybe. Horror, even, at something he had done. He moves to take a step toward you, dropping the metal rod in his hand so maybe you'd give him the chance to explain but you were taking off like a bird in the street threatened by a moving car the second he moved a muscle. He freezes, hand extended toward you despite you being too far to reach.
You were scared. Of him.
He very quickly had more pressing matters than your understanding or coping with the idea that you had run from him since he was now hearing the war cry of Coral and her pack as they ran from the tunnels toward the exit he was standing under.
He was grateful you had fled before that, hoping they didn't see you before you hid away again. He hops back over the gate, grabbing Sejanus and forcing him through the front entrance just in time.
"For Coriolanus, when I am gone."
He reads over the words on the outside of the intricately folded note over and over again, sitting at his desk and trying to ignore the stitches pulling at his back. Sejanus had given the note to him when he was discharged from the hospital. A note from you. It was a goodbye, he knew it. Something about your delicate handwriting on the outside felt so sacred to him.
"My Dearest Corio,
For once, I cannot express with words what I need to say to you. Regrettably, Sejanus is waiting so I must find something to say soon. I'll begin with thank you. You told me not to thank you until you had done something for me, but what you didn't understand was that you already had. Having a friend at the end has meant the world to me. I wish I could tell my family about you. When I can't sleep at night, I think of how much they would love you, and how we could sit together in the field at night and look at the stars. I hope one day you get to see them.
I apologize that I have to ask one more thing of you. I admit, I do not know how your mentorship works, but I hope with all my heart that I have done enough for you to win your prize. I regret that I will never know. I'm sorry that you ended up with me, you deserved better. I feel like you weren't given a choice, though I know you would never admit that. I digress. All I ask is that you do not forget me. You don't have to feel guilt, or think of me all the time, I just hope you read Romeo and Juliet one day and guess which parts were my favourite. Or that if you're out on cold nights when the breeze chills your skin, you'll think of us. I also hope that is not too much to ask of you. I suppose, again, I will never know.
If I can take your position for a moment and mentor you; I have some advice I would like to offer. Be whatever you want to be, do what you want to do. Don't let anything or anyone stop you from being good. Your kindness, Corio, was not lost on me while I had the pleasure of knowing you. I've seen who you are, and I will never forget.
I must tell you posthumously that you are the closest thing to my own Romeo Montague I have been lucky enough to have in my life, but our story is different. You get to grow up, change, have a life, and fall in love. Please do. See the beauty in everything and do not let the cruelties of the world change the goodness in your soul.
"Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"
With love and not nearly enough time,
Y/N
He couldn't resist unfolding the page in his hands and reading it. Every inch of the page was covered in your scrawled print, urgent from not wanting to keep Sejanus waiting for too long. You were still very much alive, but he was probably dead to you and he saw that in your eyes as you looked at him with nothing short of fear. He was supposed to be your Romeo, or at least you thought so when you wrote it. And he wanted that for you. He regrets so deeply that he took that perspective from you. It was a mistake- but maybe, if you won, you would see that for what it was and forgive him.
He wanted to crush up the note and throw it against the wall, tear it to shreds and light it on fire and burn away the fact he had ever met you, but he knew he didn't want to. It was all he would have left of you. He couldn't lose it, even if he hated himself for ruining what you could have had.
Instead, he folded it back up and put it on the shelf where his mother's compact once was before crawling into bed and crying until he finally passed out.
"You can explain it to her, Coryo. I know she will be reasonable." Tigris smiles sadly at him, helping him once again with his blazer following yet another back injury.
He hadn't said anything to trigger her sympathies this morning besides having puffy eyes in her presence. Though, the wall that separates their bedrooms is thin- it was likely that despite the muffling of his sheets, she had heard his cries. He had told her everything, he always did.
"Would you like me to come with you today? I can miss just one day of work, no harm will be done." His cousin offers. He wants to decline, her income is all they had, but if Coryo was being honest with himself, he needed someone in his corner.
"Okay." He agrees quietly and she smiles, patting the front of his uniform.
"I'll grab my things, can you wait a few moments?" She asks, already heading for her room.
"Of course." He nods. In another moment of self-honesty, he realizes he doesn't even want to go. But he had to be there. For you. If you had even survived the night.
When you decided there was enough daylight, you crawled back deeper into the vents. Seemingly you were safe there, if you had to guess it was almost noon and no one had bothered you. You were on your way to check on Jessup- that was a better use of your time than dwelling on what you witnessed last night and slipping deeper and deeper into a downward spiral.
You approach the grate in the vent you entered through, peeking in to see if he was still there. "Jessup?" You whisper, unable to see him. Worried when you get no response, you slide the cover off and hang your head out of it to look around. He was curled up against the wall across the room, and he looked distressed. Shaking, crying, skin ashen.
"Jessup?" You call toward him again, beginning to climb down to go check on him.
He's not responsive to you, not as you take a few hesitant steps closer. "Are you okay?"
His head snaps up to look at you. "Y/N?"
You smile a little, surprised he even remembered your name in his state. "Hi." You crouch down in front of him. "What do you need? Are you holding up okay?"
Again, no response.
"I'll get you some supplies." You whisper to him, knowing that if the microphones pick it up, Coryo would likely send you nothing when you emerge into the open area. He was very clear that you shouldn't share, but Jessup clearly needed help. He'd been down here for over a day without food or water, but now, you didn't know that you had anyone to help. You had Coryo and Sejanus, but now Sejanus hated you and Coryo was never who you thought he was. It had haunted you all night.
"I'll be back soon, okay?" You smile at Jessup reassuringly, standing and untying the scarf so you can get back up into the vents.
Coryo hadn't heard what you said to the boy, but when you reemerged from the vents after checking it was mostly clear, he knew what you were there for. It was decently safe, spare for Reaper who had collected and covered several bodies with a torn flag while you were gone. Making eye contact with him startles you, but you don't move. Neither does he. You give him a nod of understanding as he kneels next to the aboveground grave, which he returns. Lamina wasn't on her beam anymore, and that makes your heart clench. It took you a long time to get from one place to the next using the vents- anything could have happened in the time you weren't watching.
Now that you've established that you're safe, you look to the nearest camera with hopeful and tired eyes. Coryo knows you want to bring whatever he would send back down to Jessup.
He chews his lip, looking between you and the small screen in front of him. He shouldn't enable you to help another tribute, but it did look fruitless. Jessup was not well, not at all, and it would be a waste to even bother feeding him. At the same time, after what he had done last night, after what you witnessed, he would have to buy back your trust. Allowing you to help your friend is his only way to do that, at the moment. So he selects the water and sends it, followed by some bread.
You receive it, giving a weak, almost hesitant smile to the camera with the food and water tucked against your chest. "Thank you." He can only read your lips before you disappear again.
Climbing back out of the vent, this time with a water bottle and some bread in hand as you drop to the ground, you startle your friend. "Hey, Jessup." You say, raising your free hand to calm him. "I brought you something to eat."
You approach him carefully as he stares at you. You hold the items out to him, but he doesn't take them. "Do you want some help?" You offer, kneeling down in front of him. "Here," You tear off some of the bread and try to hand it to him. After not eating enough for so long, smaller pieces would probably be easier. "It may be a little dusty from the vent, but it's still good. You need to eat."
Then, without warning, he slaps the items out of your hand and shoves you back. "What did you do to it?!" He shouts as you fall back on your butt, quickly shuffling yourself back away from him.
"Nothing! Nothing, Jessup, shh, we gotta be quiet down here..." You try and calm him, still backing away.
"You're trying to kill me!" He yells, ignoring your pleas for him to be quiet, reaching for the now empty and broken water bottle that spilled out over the floor.
"I would never, I just want to help!" You try and assure him, standing up and backing away. Clearly, he doesn't want to talk as he's jumping at you, now with a weapon in hand.
You have to run. There's no time to get back into the vent, making a run for the door and throwing yourself through the hole at the bottom.
"Why would you do this?!" He shouts after you as you run down the halls of the tunnel, still trying to stay as quiet as possible through your heavy breathing. "What have you done?!"
"Lyssie- what is he doing?" Coryo asks his classmate next to him, thankful now that you are apparently such a fast runner.
"I- I don't know. He wouldn't betray her like this." She replies with a slight shake of her head, eyes glued to the screen.
"She's fast enough, but she can't get back in the vents while she's being chased." Coryo says, as if either of them could do anything, but he was as helpless as you were.
You slide to a halt in the long, rounded hallway when you see Coral round the corner in front of you. Jessup was sick, he wasn't fast, but you couldn't turn back. You were cornered, and there was nowhere to go but up. You look up, scanning the overhead vent system for a grate but see none. Turning quickly, you look along the ceiling toward Jessup as he makes his way toward you with the broken water bottle. You'd rather try your odds with him than Coral and the others.
Your eyes land on a grate just ahead of you as you hear footsteps and shouting closing in on you from both directions. With shaking hands you scramble to untie the scarf as you run back toward Jessup, throwing it back over the pipe and using all your strength to pull yourself up into the ceiling, hitting in the grate and pulling yourself inside. "Jessup, Jessup! Run! Hurry!" You try and urge him, but it's like he doesn't hear you, jumping to jab at you with the bottle. He misses, luckily, but Coral never does.
Coryo watches with bated breath while you struggle to pull yourself up, abandoning your friend to his fate. He cringes as he watches Jessup fall, the inflicted wounds being just hidden by Tanner's form and the buzzer goes off.
"Oh, and that's the end for Jessup as his district partner climbs into the ceiling!" Lucky's voice sounds distant to him. "Lysistrata, get out of here and Coriolanus, you may want to start packing your things as well."
He wouldn't budge. He's not packing a single thing until you're done taking your final breaths. Lyssie sighs and shakes her head, tears in her eyes as she pats Coryo's shoulder. "If this is it for her, I'm so sorry..." She apologizes before taking her leave.
Your heart is beating out of your chest as you pull yourself almost fully into the vent. You don't make it smoothly, though, crying out in pain as you feel the prongs of Coral's trident plunging into your calf. Your blood drips down your leg and on top of the other tributes as you finally make your way all the way in. You don't have time to feel any pain as you quickly crawl away. They know where you are, she could stab up into the vent just below you and catch you again- you had to find a way up farther.
"Y/N! We know where you've been hiding now, you're not safe in there!" Coral calls after you, and you have to ignore it as you slide through the metal tube, feeling it get slick from the blood pooling underneath you with every movement.
You don't hear them following you, though, so when you finally make it to where you can climb up to the next level, you feel a lot safer. Your chest is heaving as you sit up on the edge of the drop-down to the tunnels, just given enough room in the T intersection of the vents to take a breath and look at your leg.
You hiss as you lift your leg, assessing the puncture wounds. They wouldn't be fatal if you stopped the bleeding. You exhale shakily, pressing down on the flesh with your palms, pain shooting up your leg and into your back. You don't have anything to use to help besides the scarf, but it was Coryo's. You don't want to ruin it.
You didn't have a choice. You grab the material that you had dragged along with you, wrapping it tightly around the skin. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry,.." You cry, knowing he can't see or hear you.
Coryo is already panicking. Just like Highbottom had said, you could be dead in there and he wouldn't know. The panic only escalates when the cameras follow Coral, Treech, Tanner, and Mizzen as they go back up to the main floor, and Treech and Tanner go for the two main vent entrances, all of them too focused on you to even notice or care that Reaper was sat in the same clearing.
You don't hear it for a few minutes. The bleeding in your leg had mostly stopped, soaking the silk material by the time you heard the familiar clang of shifting metal. Someone else was in the vents.
You look behind you, trying to discern which direction they were coming from, but it was nearly impossible to tell with the echo. You had to move, but you could be crawling right into your fate. Maybe you should just stay and wait and let it happen.
As the noises got closer from both sides, accompanied by coughing from the dust, you knew you couldn't just wait. You'd made it this far, and as far as you knew, no one else knew the vents nearly as well. That was an advantage you had sought from the very beginning, and now was the time to use it.
You gently lower yourself down to slide back the way you came, hitting the bottom level with a bang before ducking out of sight and around a corner. It couldn't have been Coral up there, she would be taunting you by now, but she wasn't. It was quiet until you heard whispers up from where you just were.
"There's blood on this side. She must have gone back down." You recognize Treech's voice when you hear it, and you hold your breath as you fiddle with the compact in your pocket. Stroking your thumb over the carved metal over and over again, trying to stay quiet. "Look, there's a trail going that way."
"Down we go, then." Tanner replies, making your heart stop. You couldn't fight them off, you knew that, and there was a trail of your own blood that would lead them straight to you. You couldn't hide.
You slowly pull the compact from your pocket, turning it over in your palm. You swore you wouldn't participate in the games. You wouldn't harm anyone. But maybe, if you 'accidentally' spilled its contents in the vent before you had to move on, they would stop following you.
Before you can think too much about it, you're holding your breath and opening the small clasp. It just looked like salt. Yeah. It's salt. You already believe it as you gently tip the container, making a thin line of the substance across the bottom of the vent. Salt is for protection. The salt will keep me safe.
You pocket the compact again and quietly crawl away.
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taglist: @soulessjourney , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @baybieruth , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore ,
okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry! hopefully for part eleven it'll be business as usual!
also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)
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lovelytsunoda · 9 months
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slumber party // lance stroll
summary: when lances wife gets sick the morning of their daughters sixth birthday party, he offers to step in and play host. but of course, that’s before he finds out that it’s a slumber party, and he’s stuck with an army of six year olds until ten am the next morning.
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the party was planned down to every painstaking detail so that it was perfect
right down to the princess decorations they started putting up a day early to the disney cake that chloe was making herself
it was going to be perfect
until y/n wakes up on the morning of with a blistering headache and nausea
she thinks they’re going to have to call off the party. she’s in no condition to handle a group of children
until lance steps in. he’ll call esteban and mick and between the three of them, they should be able to run a party without a hitch, right?
wrong.
they all arrive at the same time, and when the girls go running into the naive living room and start setting sleeping bags up under the skylight, the panic in his eyes is evident
“did your wife not tell you it was a slumber party?”
“no, she did not.” he bites his lip, running his fingers through his hair. “but how hard can it be, right?”
The other mother just laughs before she goes back to her car
horrible decision, really, but he leaves esteban and mick in charge while he runs upstairs to check on y/n (and get more details on the slumber part of the party)
and when he comes back downstairs, the girls are crying and one of them is hiding under the couch
“i left you alone with them for five minutes, esteban! what did you do?”
esteban looks at the floor, and mick rolls his eyes.
“somebody thought it was a good idea to open the afternoon with scary stories.”
“esteban, they’re six!”
“one of the girls told him he looked like the rat from flushed away and he decided the best course of action was to tell her that the house was haunted and micheal meyers would get her in her sleep.”
“this house was built in 2017 and I’m pretty sure nobody died here!”
he puts on an old barbie movie, and the girls calm down enough that they sit on the floor to eat party mix and gummy bears while the boys go over the game plan in the kitchen.
“what did you like doing when you were six?” lance asks desperately “there has to be something!”
“karting.” esteban shrugs.
“i cannot take ten six year olds to the karting track.”
but that gives him a different idea
which is how they end up in the simulator room trying to load Mario kart instead of the fia approved programming
which turns into an all out war between the girls
well
more like the army of six year olds against estie lance and mick
lance definitely lets his daughter win
chloe drops by dressed head to toe like a disney princess and brings the cake
scotty brings pizza
please please please imagine lance giving all these little girls princess manicures
his daughter defo makes him wear a plastic tiara
when the kids finally conk out and go to sleep around nine thirty (and esteban because he’s fucking tired), he goes upstairs to check on his wife while mick starts to clean up
she’s curled up in bed with the dog, buried under blankets
but she could hear the laughter coming up through the floor
“the girls are having a great time, honey.” she says sleepily, pulling him into bed with her “you guys are doing a great job.”
“i know. but please, for the love of god, never leave me in charge of a slumber party again. also, you might need to explain to mike and my dad why a ton of six year olds were using the sim to play mario kart.”
TAGS
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @oconso @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @httpiastri @clemswrld @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre
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