#//this is stress baking all the fucking way lol
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hi baby!! dont worry!! it was about reader getting so stressed and annoyed while building a gingerbread house that they throw it in the garbage because its going all wrong and carmy finds it hilarious lol then he builds one for her hehe<3 love u
Perfectionist.
Your boyfriend being a professional chef has its perks - especially when it comes to gingerbread houses.
pairing - carmen berzatto x female reader warnings - cursing word count - under 1k!! short and sweet author's note - just a little dose of carmy at christmas for you. thanks baby angel for sending this request in (twice!!) <3
masterlist. inbox.
"Fuck this."
Carmy hears your raised voice and immediately comes running, coming to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen.
"You good, baby?"
"No."
The frown on your face is amusing him to no end, fighting to keep his smile from breaking out. He doesn't want to minimise your feelings, but you're cutest when you're mad.
Carmy takes in the scene in front of him, surveying carefully. There's chunks of gingerbread scattered across the table, icing dripping from the tablecloth. Your kitchen looks like a candy store exploded - sweets in red, green and blue littered over every surface. You're caked in frosting, hair falling into your eyes as you take deep breaths to try to keep your anger at bay.
"I knew this wouldn't be easy, but fuck me, Carmy... I'm on the brink of a breakdown here."
He makes his way over, grinning like an idiot. It's not often he gets to help you with things - you're fiercely independent, determined to get stuff done all by yourself. He likes teaching you, getting to feel like he's easing your worries a little.
"You want my help?"
"I said I'd do it," you huff, on the verge of stamping your feet and pushing the table over.
"It won't kill you to ask for what you need, baby."
You roll your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth. It's difficult for you to admit defeat, but you might rip your hair out if your gingerbread collapses one more time.
"Can you help me, Carm?" you whisper.
"What was that, honey? Say it again?"
You sigh in exasperation, slumping back into your chair.
"Can you help me, Carmen? Please?"
He beams at you like the cat that got the cream, making his way over to sit next to you at the table.
"Lets start again, hmm?"
"Good idea."
You pick up the remnants of your gingerbread house and throw them so forcefully, the trash can almost tips over. Carmy laughs, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
"I think we've finally found the one thing you're not good at, honey. It's a Christmas miracle."
You can't help but chuckle, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. He presses a kiss or four into your neck, nosing at the spot under your ear.
"Okay, Mr Michelin Star. Show me what you got."
You bake, first, Carmy explaining how to get the perfect texture you need for structural soundness. He even gets out a ruler, measuring the rolled out dough so the sides will be even.
He kisses you lazily while your gingerbread is in the oven. You're propped up on the counter as he stands between your legs, arms thrown around his shoulders. He tastes like cinnamon and spice, groaning when you lick the sugar straight from his tongue.
When it's cooled, you begin your assembly, sitting back while Carmy trims and remeasures. He draws out a template with a pencil and cuts accordingly, ensuring each piece has a straight edge. You watch in awe as he works, so careful, so attentive. You're fighting not to jump his bones at any given moment.
It's time to build, and Carmy has the perfect plan. He's made a thickened sugar syrup that acts as a glue, hardening when it dries and keeping everything together. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he concentrates, determined not to mess this up for you.
He steps back, then, to let you decorate. You clearly have a vision, your picturesque idea of what you wanted your original creation to look like. Carmy makes you multiple bags of icing in different colours, and melts down candies so you can make windows and doors. He opens packets of chocolates, and carves into them with a knife to make little trees for the yard.
Hours later, when you're both covered in powdered sugar and melted chocolate, you step back to admire your masterpiece.
"Holy shit, Carm."
"We did good, huh?"
"Is there like, a business in this? Can we do this for a living?"
He laughs, the sound vibrating through you from where his chest his pressed to your back. He's got you tightly in his arms, swaying gently to the soft music that plays from the radio.
"What were you saying about finding the one thing I wasn't good at, Berzatto? Hmm?"
He spins you, pressing his forehead into yours.
"I take it back. I take it all back, baby. You're good at everything."
"Especially gingerbread houses."
"Especially gingerbread houses."
You lean up to kiss him, wiping some frosting off his cheek with your thumb.
"Thanks for not making me feel like an idiot."
"I would never. Life is a learning curve, baby, You taught me that."
"I love you," you whisper. "And just so you know, we're never eating that. It's going to have to be display only."
He laughs, full chested and whole hearted, moving his hands to cradle your face.
"I love you too, baker extraordinaire. We don't need to eat it, anyway. We've got all this candy to get through."
You reach behind him to pick up a chocolate, tossing it into your mouth.
"It isn't as sweet as you," you wink.
A blush rises up his cheeks as he rolls his eyes, pulling you in closer.
"Merry Christmas, baby."
"Merry Christmas, Carmen."
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader fluff#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x female reader#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear x reader#the bear x you#the bear fluff#the bear imagine#the bear fic#the bear x y/n
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What You Need
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k
Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.
Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned) if i missed anything, lmk pls!
Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.
MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION
It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you.
You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee.
That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it.
You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now.
It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket.
Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?
It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you.
It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up.
You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?”
“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?”
You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you.
The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you.
Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.”
“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”
“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”
Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.”
After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day.
He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?”
“Mhm, please.”
“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone.
You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you?
Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door.
Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first:
“Safe words. Repeat em’.”
“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.”
“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.”
You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two.
He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?”
Silence.
He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”
“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out.
“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”
Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.”
Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman.
Like I taught ya last week, hm?
His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors.
You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”
“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”
You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal.
He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it.
He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet.
All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod.
“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”
And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away.
“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”
You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”
His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible.
So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach.
Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit.
You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to.
You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible.
“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him.
You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient.
He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”
You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”
Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.”
He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only.
The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here.
“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”
You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.
“Color, baby?”
“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.
He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”
You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength.
He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him.
So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out.
Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”
And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”
Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”
You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb.
He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down.
Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down.
“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”
Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”
He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek.
You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala.
Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs.
He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat.
If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place.
He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan.
He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you.
He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit.
Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy.
He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves.
You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee?
Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt.
His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?”
You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.”
“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator.
You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on.
You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing.
Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you.
He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms.
He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices.
“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do.
You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his.
“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?”
“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance.
He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way.
He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard.
He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear.
“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans.
“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here.
“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you.
“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”
You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.”
He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging.
“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight.
“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you.
“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more.
With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you.
It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk.
He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release.
“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets.
Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort.
You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you.
The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-”
He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs.
“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.
“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe.
He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-”
It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss.
His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”
Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.”
The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high.
You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need.
As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly.
“Darlin’...”
You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”
Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.
As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.
Much love to everyone! <3
.
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#Pedro pascal fanfiction#Pedro pascal smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut#smut#Joel miller fluff#Joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal#pedrostories#endless thoughts fics
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☆ random obey me headcanons!
lucifer, mammon and simeon ♡
part two (asmodeus, levi, barbatos)
part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)
part four (satan and diavolo)
cw: a few spoilers ahead from the main story! also one SLIGHT nsfw on simeons part???
small note: i only started writing on tumblr now so idk much on how ppl do those line thingies on the words and then it teleports to a diff post so if anyone knows how to do it please teach me! thank you :3
☆ lucifer:
- generally has a thing for turtlenecks. if you open his closet you'll see a bunch of turtlenecks in there. lucifer is a very conservative man after all.
- speaking of closet, he definetely has a color code for his clothing. blacks, reds, navy blues, anything dark
- you'll never catch him wearing anything revealing. especially his legs. man keeps em hidden.
- has a very sensitive nose. he always scolds mammon and asmo for wearing such strong cologne. he has great sense of smell in general (the bitch can smell anything) and automatically knows when trouble is near.
- EXTREMELY petty when he doesn't get his morning coffee. if he misses a day without it an extra line will appear on his forehead.
- gifts you souvenirs when he enters the human world. claims he's here for business because diavolo told him but we all know that's not the only reason why he came up there.
- he doesn't like writing with modern pens and only settles with quills. he still has his old quill from the celestial realm and keeps it hidden somewhere.
- almost gave head pats to luke once.
- his nose is FUCKING BEAUTIFUL and his side profile too. he has a nose bump for sure and i will die on this hill.
- he's not a big fan of creamy foods like carbonara or anything with cream in general. if he's eating sweets he prefers the icing to be less flavorful. what do you expect? he's a black coffee lover after all.
☆ mammon:
- room is always a fucking mess, but he cleans when he procrastinates so if you ever enter his room and he's all quiet and cleaning just don't disturb him for a while.
- buys bootleg merch for levi for no reason. one time he found this cheap ruri chan stuffy on sale for like 150 grimm and decided to buy it.
- has fucking shit hand writing bro. sometimes it's small, sometimes it's big but most of the time it's ass balls. like why does your k and h look the same?
- he cracks his knuckles and joints often and can't go without a day doing it atleast once. it's kinda hot tbh lol
- when he's in a happy mood he'll sing in like a high pitched way. idk how to explain it but i just see him doing that especially when he's on cooking duty
- sleeps really late he could almost rival levi on it. surprisingly his eyebags aren't that visible though.
- has really pretty features like long eyelashes, plump lips and visible collarbones. eat your heart out asmo xoxo
- convinced himself he'll never ever like or listen to human world songs until he heard you blasting some music in your room. he was singing that song in his head for days on end but refused to ask you what the title was
- he's a very clumsy guy and often drops small things especially during class like his ballpen, eraser or that pack of bubblegum lucifer ended up confiscating
- before you arrived, he liked to vape or juul when he's stressed or felt lonely but now he only spends his time thinking of you when he feels down.
��� simeon:
- when he turned into a human he had thoughts of becoming a teacher in christian education but realized it's better if he owned a cafe instead.
- he sometimes joins luke during his baking lessons with barbatos even though he already knows all the steps
- occasionally invites you for sleepovers and buys card / board games for you guys to play with solomon and luke! either he or solomon are always end up being the winners everytime though
- always and i mean ALWAYS willing to teach you something when he knows it. baking, writing, recent lessons, etc
- once the exchange program ended he started writing more and more, especially poetry. and mostly wrote about you and how much he misses you <3.
- started making diary entries after the aftermath of the celestial war.
- during quiet nights, simeon often thinks what it'd be like if he was really close with the brothers.
- his eyes are lowkey creepy sometimes when he looks at you for too long. it's like he's trying to detect every sin you've committed.
- idk why i thought of this but his teeth are literally so pearly and perfect but he doesn't really smile with them in view.
- unintentionally moans sometimes. like when he sits down after a long day you just start hearing a soft "ah~" out of nowhere..
#obey me#obey me shall we date#lucifer obey me#obey me lucifer#om! shall we date#om! lucifer#lucifer x reader#mammon obey me#obey me mammon#om! mammon#mammon x reader#simeon obey me#obey me simeon#om! simeon#simeon x reader#obey me x reader#om! x reader#obey me headcanons#om! headcanons
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Breaking The Ice (KNJ x F!Reader) - teaser
pairing: hockeyplayer!namjoon x f. reader
genre/au: ice hockey au, college au, roommates au / smut, fluff, slow burn
rating: explicit/18+
summary: after last season, namjoon knows he can’t afford anymore mishaps. when you show up on namjoon’s doorstep looking to share his apartment, he thinks it couldn’t be more perfect. medical school has you even busier than he is, but what happens when what used to be the perfect arrangement turns into a bigger distraction than either of you bargained for?
word count: 911 for this teaser
warnings: clumsy Joon, injuries, lots of swearing, Joon gets a boner, OC is pretty and way too nice
a/n: *taps mic* is this thing on? happy Joon day! (i hope i made the deadline). I remembered I had this sitting on the bench (get it lol) as a scene from my wip for the 🏒on ice: for the boys collab that was announced a long time ago! I decided to spruce up this little scene and publish it, even though the final fic is nowhere near complete. This can probably even be read as a standalone (a cute moment between roomies)! I hope you enjoy this piece and happy bday again to Joonie! credits for the banner go to @joheunsaram!
You okay, Namjoon-ah?
Namjoon wants to deck Kim Seokjin and his stupid pretty boy smile into the boards just for asking, when that motherfucker knows he’s at fault for Namjoon’s current state. He feels a painful twinge in his side, sucking in a sharp breath. Practice had barely ended before Namjoon was hobbling out of the arena, the rough-housing that normally accompanied Bangtan’s practice going a little too far today.
When he sees the steps of his building come into view, he nearly wants to sob with relief. Cursing, he stumbles up them, skipping two at a time in the hopes that it’ll get him up and able to faceplant into the couch faster. Knowing his luck though, he’d probably eat his words and end up with his face straight into the ugly grey shag carpet instead.
As he limps down the hallway, he’s struck by dueling aromas – the earthy, nutty mellowness of freshly brewed coffee, and the warm, spicy cinnamon scent of cinnamon. Both coming from his door, propped open slightly, where he can hear the faint lilt of classical music escape.
Anatomy must have been whooping your ass again.
Namjoon takes special care to slip inside quietly, wincing when he puts weight on his knee. He glances down to see that it’s swelled to an alarming size. Fucking Seokjin.
He knew he should have probably gotten it checked out by the team medic. Yoongi’s nagging is already echoing in the back of his mind, reminding Namjoon that if he wanted to be clumsy, he had to stay on top of his injuries. For the sake of his team.
But somehow getting his limbs checked by a crusty old guy who was past the retirement age didn’t seem nearly as exciting when there was you.
You who always wore the comfiest sweats, ones he was half-tempted to steal from your closet. You and your penchant for always looking for a pen, when you always had one tucked behind your ear or in your hoodie pocket. You and your stress baking, winning the adoration of his teammates (Stupid Seokjin and his flirting), but most of all him. Your damn cinammon rolls were worth every extra minute he had to spend in the weight room keeping them off.
“Hey Joon, I was just finishing up the cinnamon rolls, they’re on the cooling rack— what happened?” Your smile falls when you take him in, knee as red as his jersey, and a nasty cut under his eyebrow, skin turning purplish underneath.
Namjoon thinks he might pass out, either from the pain or from the way your face falls in disappointment, and the plush cushions of the couch seem like a great place to bury his head into right now.
He’s given a few quiet moments to stew before he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. Lifting his head up, he swears when your face nearly collides with his, noses bumping with such force that you have to take a step back, rubbing gingerly at the bridge.
Great fucking impression you’re making on your pretty roommate, Namjoon. She’s totally into getting clocked in the face. The little devil on his shoulder must be having a ball right now.
“Fuck, ___, I’m so sorry, fuck–”
“It’s okay, Joon, I know you didn’t mean to. But we only have the resources for one injured party in this apartment, yeah?”
Namjoon feels his face heat, not sure if he’s just embarrassed or you’re too close close to him. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when you pick up his knee, studying it with a furrow in your brow.
What a day to decide to wear grey sweatpants. His dick-print was so happy with him right now, and he silently prays that your eyes remain downwards.
“We need to wrap this up. Give me a sec and I’ll help you.”
Is he dreaming, or does your face look a little flushed? If you notice his boner, he’s happy you don’t say anything, humming softly s you disappear into the hallway, rummaging around in the closet for the first-aid kit.
You re-appear moments later, a roll full of medical tape in your hand, and you’re back to prodding at his knee again. Namjoon sinks into the couch, body relaxing at your gentle touch.
Only to jolt a few seconds later when he feels something cold hit his aching joints, nearly whacking you a second time. God, he had to be more careful.
“Shhh,” you put a finger to his lips, and Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat. “Gotta put some ice on it.”
“You should really increase your fees, doc. I’m pretty sure at-home care isn’t included in the job description.”
Is he flirting? Fuck, okay he’s flirting. He’s doing this.
“Maybe I like knowing I’ll always have a patient who keeps me in business,” you wink, fingers lingering longer than necessary on his knee when you finish wrapping it. Your hands move next to the cut underneath his brow.
“Now what are we gonna do with you?”
Oh fuck, abort, abort mission! Namjoon shoots straight up, grimacing at your shocked gasp.
“YouknowIjustrememberedIhaveanassignmentdueatmidnighttoday! I should really go work on that!”
You say nothing as he limps into his room, smiling widely at him the whole time. Namjoon collapses on his bed, groaning into the pillows.
Maybe getting banged up wasn’t so bad after all. Not when he always had you around to patch him up.
a/n pt. 2: As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3
#kvanity#bts#bts fanfiction#bts au#bts imagine#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fics#bts imagines#bts smut#bts fluff#namjoon#kim namjoon#rm#namjoon smut#rm smut#rm x reader#namjoon x reader#rm x you#namjoon x you#namjoon imagine#namjoon imagines#namjoon fic#namjoon fics#rm imagine#rm imagines#rm fic#rm fics
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Hey darling, I hope you are doing fine. could you please do something disgustingly fluffy with Eren after he fucked all the negativity and sadness out of reader (me)?
Thank you.
cw: smut, fluff, established relationship
Notes: Hi Ichi! Sending you lots and lots of love, hope you’re doing well too! Thanks for this request, I adore fluffy Eren (especially after sex LOL). I kept the smut a little short on this one and focused more on the fluff. I really hope you like it!
Today was awful. The energy has been drained completely out of you. The last thing you want to do when you get home is to think. And that’s why you love having a boyfriend who takes all your stress away, for both your benefit and his.
As soon as you step through the front door, dropping your bag with a loud thump on the floor, Eren knows instantly what he needs to do. He chuckles to himself at the kitchen counter, prepping ingredients for dinner. After you kick your shoes off, you collapse onto the couch, groaning. He steps towards you, abandoning his half-cut vegetables, kissing you on the cheek. “Bad day?”
“The worst,” you respond, nuzzling your nose to him.
He smiles. “I’ll take care of you then.”
Soon, the both of you are naked on the couch, your thighs straddling his lap, his grip on your hips, bouncing you on his cock. The feeling of him inside you, his fingers and lips all over your skin, is enough to recharge you, bringing you back to life. You’re like putty in his hands, molding to his every touch, moaning into his neck. He laughs softly, breath warm on your ear, massaging your back. “Don’t think, okay? Just enjoy it, baby. Let me do all the work.”
Hands squeezing your ass in a firm grasp, he thrusts into you, fucking your sweet spot until you orgasm together. You’re absolutely exhausted now, but relaxed. All the tension you brought home from work has melted away thanks to him. He cradles your pliant body in his arms, scattering delicate kisses across your shoulders. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
You head into the bedroom, where you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for him to run the bath. When it’s ready, he returns to you, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, leading you into the bathroom. The two of you carefully sit in the bath, him surrounding you in a cozy embrace as you sink into him, back against his chest. He holds you like this for a moment, enjoying the serenity of your peaceful breathing and the quiet drip of water from the faucet. He wants nothing more than to take care of you, make you feel at ease.
When it begins to get cold, he hoists you up, helping you out of the tub, reaching for the nearest towel to wrap around you. He laughs when your teeth chatter from the temperature difference, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you. Dried off and in your favorite pajamas, the two of you head back into the kitchen to cook the dinner Eren had already started. As you eat the delicious meal, Eren talks, avoiding any mentions of work because he knows it’s a sore topic for you. He’s an expert at rambling about a certain topic in such detail, always explaining it with enthusiasm, enough to keep you hanging on his every word. You can’t even remember exactly what it is you were so angry about earlier today.
After dinner, he suggests that the two of you bake a batch of cookies, to which you of course agree to. He connects to the speaker, playing songs that remind you of your life together, from then until now. Eren’s always a messy baker; spilling chocolate chips all over the counter, flour somehow finding its way on his nose, cheeks, and hair. He feeds you a spoonful of cookie dough before taking a taste for himself. With the cookies in the oven and the timer set, he twirls you around the kitchen, dancing to the upbeat music blasting through the stereo. When a slow song comes on, the one that was playing the first time he said, “I love you” years ago, he wraps you in his arms, swaying to the melody.
Later in the night, body nourished with good food and Eren’s love, you snuggle in bed, sitting up against the headboard. He reads aloud a chapter of the romance novel you’re currently reading, trying to contain his giggling as he acts out the spicy dialogue. At the end, he turns to you, ready to start the next, only to catch you asleep on his shoulder. Smiling, he closes the book and places it on the nightstand, shutting off the lamp. He lays you down, head on the pillow, and tucks you under the covers, kissing you on the forehead. “I love you, beautiful. Goodnight.”
#eren jaeger#eren smut#eren x you#eren x y/n#eren x reader#eren fluff#eren jaeger smut#eren jaeger fluff#attack on titan fluff#aot fluff#requests#for my lovely ichi!#divider by @/saradika
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AITA for telling my gf I'd rather have no sex at all than just once or twice a year?
So here is the deal. I (28m) have been with my partner (29f) for almost six years now.
I have a very high libido. She has none, but is in denial about that.
I tried to have the "talk" with her so many times - Being asexual is okay, you need to be honest about your needs, all that. But no, she insists she totally loves sex for real it's just there is always stress at work and new netflix shows to watch and cakes to bake and oh god have you seen how bad things are in the world right now who could have sex at a time like this.
Anyway, after yet another 4 months without sex I kinda snapped.
I didn't say anything, just watched and waited, curious to see when it would come.
And there it was. One evening, she just looks at me and say "Oh wow lol it has been months since we had sex Oopsie haha I didn't even notice No idea how THAT happened I guess I failed my womanly duties but no worries babe we're totally gonna have sex tonight promise".
And she was so chipper I didn't want to make her sad I really tried to keep it together but it was just too much.
I said, as calmly as I could:
I told you a gazillion times, there ARE no fucking "womanly duties". That is not how libido works. You are just not interested in sex. And that is FINE.
But me, I cannot live with "effort". I cannot live with fig leaf sex once or twice or three times a year just so you can tell yourself you're not asexual. And if you do this just for my sake that is very romantic of you but also misses the point because that is NOT what I want. I want to be wanted sexually, and if I am not, I'd rather not have sex at all. "Twice a year" sex does the opposite for me. If I want an orgasm I can take care of that myself. For being close to YOU, we can cuddle and kiss. But I cannot wait months at a time for sex that isn't even based on any true sexual desire you have for me. I don't want a "gift". I don't want a "compromise" or a "sacrifice".
And of course I want to stay with you. I want to have a life wth you. We can do so many things together.
But clearly, sex isn't one of them. Not like this. I can't stand it.
And of course she cried and was inconsolable and yelled at me why I would "accuse" her of something so horrible.
We've talked some more and it's sortof fine now but still awkward... Lots of heavy silence.
I deeply regret I said anything at all, but at the same time, I could not bring myself to have sex with her again, and I see no way how I could have stayed silent.
AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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Hi can I please get an Erwin x secret wife reader? Just a lot of fluff and how the scouts finds out that their commander is a married man. Thank you
homie... this is the cutest ask ever oh my god i'm fucking giggling over this and i'm not even an erwin girly
summary: erwin smith x secret wife reader: meeting, married life, and the discovery word count: 1.449 setting: canonverse fem!reader warnings: season 2 & 3 spoilers
when erwin smith met you, not even his resolve to stay away from relationships could stop him from falling in love. and somewhat unfortunately, there was no stopping you from loving him back.
frankly, your relationship was the last thing erwin wanted. being a scout, the commander of the scouts nonetheless, meant that tomorrow was never promised. with the disproportionately slim chance of surviving his career until retirement, he had made a silent promise to stay away from love. of course, meeting you changed that in spite of his better judgement...
-it was shortly after erwin had been named the new commander of the scouts. after is appointment, he often went and got a beer at this small tavern in one of sina's outlier districts so he could try to organize his thoughts
-you were the one to approach him, asking if he was alright because he looked a little dejected. erwin, always hellbent on demonstrating his strength, overcompensated a little bit and exuded a little too much of his illusive confidence
-you laughed at him and told him that he acts like a politician
-it wasn't often that someone saw through him, he found it intriguing. you talked for awhile that nigh, expecting to go your separate ways, but you ran into him there a few more times, and when you did, you would sit together and talk. eventually, you organized some cafe dates on sunday mornings. you didn't actually know who he was until your fifth or sixth meeting, which was funny to you because he never thought to mention it, and funny to him because he thought you knew all along
-you made him realize that there was more to life than discovering the unknown- that there was a lot of value in what he already had. he made you think more about your existence in the walls. you challenged each other
-within a year of meeting, you were married. you decided that if you were determined to be in a relationship, it was best that you went all in since time might end up being short
-married life with erwin doesn't always feel like married life. there's a lot of being alone for both of you while he's away on missions or in other districts for planning and other administrative tasks
-he sends you letters if he's away for more than a week. they are not very emotional letters and they don't ever detail anything specific about people, just events. but he is sure to tell you about the things he thinks you would enjoy the most- like how he saw a sunset that reminded him of one you watched together early in your relationship
-he's the type to be like "i'm not a romantic, but.." and then write something really gushy lol
-when he gets home, he likes to bake those cookies that are shaped like flowers with jam in the middle. he has mastered his family recipe for them. he feels like it's a nice way to show you how much he still cares about you after being away from home for so long
-when you're together, he tries to be very present with you. he enjoys cooking meals together and playing card games
-his love language is acts of service so he really wants to make you feel at ease when he's home because he's sure it stresses you out a lot when he isn't. he ends up doing a lot around the house, even if nothing really needs to be done. like especially on longer stretches of being home, he would start home improvement projects if there was nothing to clean or help with. somehow, he always finishes them even if it's at the expense of a decent night's sleep
-he has a home office, but he does his best to only do work after you've gone to sleep/before you wake up if it's his day off (this man is always working :( even if he doesn't have a deadline)
-you don't usually go out on the town. it's exhausting travelling as much as he does, so he likes to feel like he has a real home base and spend a lot of time there
-definitely "lets" you win arguments, but he still thinks you're wrong lol
-he is a bath man. like he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the tub if he has the time for it. he likes salts that help with soreness and he likes when you take them together so you can just talk about your day
-if you were part of something like a book club/knitting group/something where other women get together and do granny activities, erwin loves when you host. he is making cocktails/tea and hanging out with you all to get the latest gossip. he doesn't like to interact with too many of his coworkers bc he doesn't want to get attached lmao, but he loves knowing the neighborhood tea
-"ingrid, waiting for him to come to his senses is a waste of your time. you deserve someone who respects you." (needless to say, everyone loves him.)
-because of stuff like this, you aren't exactly secretly married. like your family and friends all know that you are married to the scouts' commander, they just know better than to run their mouth about it. erwin just never talks about his personal life at work
-his section commanders all know, but they were all super shocked to find out. everyone would have been up late working on a plan or something and he finally tells them to go home. someone would have asked a last minute question and he's like, "tomorrow. i'm late for dinner." and hange is the only one bold enough to be like, "haha, you got a secret wife or something?" and he just raises a thick eyebrow like "my wife isn't a secret."
-everyone was shook and waited for him to leave to talk about it and try to figure out the lore
-levi found out later, awhile after he joined the scouts when he heard everyone gossiping about you two. he pretended he didn't care but the man was shocked
-you might meet a few section commanders/captains over the years by picking him up at work for a date or eating lunch with him in his office when he's in the capital, but the introduction is always brief and it's never long enough for you to get to know anyone
-any day that you plan to visit him at work, he calls miche into his office beforehand and tells him that he's not allowed to sniff you in the event that you meet
-when erwin loses his arm and levi finds out, he's obviously pissed that he couldn't have been there to help, but all he ends up saying at first is "sucks for the mrs."
-when erwin comes home for the first time after this, he almost feels embarrassed that he can't be doing things on his own, and terrible that he can't do things for you like usual. tbh, he'd ve kind of aloof at first bc mans is avoidant, so you'd have to show him that you're not throwing in the towel
-it's a massive moment of vulnerability for him when you help him out with things that used to be second nature, like buttoning his shirt and writing. however, he spends a lot of time at home while he's healing and although there are some moments of tension, you grow together a lot
-hange would offhandedly mention you at the beginning of the events of season 3, like half joking and half curious. "you think erwin's wife is gonna leave him? he lost an arm and now he's in prison. that's gotta test the ol' vows."
-levi would glare at them in utter disbelief like ?? "honestly, shitty glasses. where do you get the nerve?" and sasha and connie would overhear and look at each other and just go off the rails trying to piece it all together, like trying to figure out if they missed signs or smth
-levi squad uses this as a distraction from the horrors of humanity within the walls :D
-overall, erwin values you and your relationship above any other relationship he has. he wants to protect you from getting attached to his coworkers because it's bad enough that you fell in love in the first place. he considers your relationship the most selfish and self indulgent thing he's taken part in, but he can't bring himself to feel remorse because you're impossible not to love and he wants you waiting for him when he gets home
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OMG UR MIKE SCHMIDT HCS ARE PERFECT!!!!!!!!! pls do a part two 🙏🙏
(btw can I be 😾 anon? )
Dating Mike Schmidt Hcs PT. 2!❣️
a/n: ABSOLUTELY!!! thank you sm 😾 anon <3 i love u! this also includes just some general head cannons of him because he’s my baby.
warnings: nothing :)
mike drinks coffee and energy drinks all the time
his favorite flavor of monster is the original or the Strawberry dreams
if you like monster (i’m an addict) he buys you one every time he buys one for himself
when he was working at freddy’s you’d patch him up if he ever got hurt :(
you teach him how to bake so he can teach Abby
You’re the only person Abby likes her brother to be with
she incorporates you into her drawings after a while of knowing you
mike is so happy when he sees you drawn in because his sister’s approval means a lot to him even if she’s only ten
it takes a while for mike to open up to you
but when he does he kinda has to break it up into small bits
he’s surprised when you hug him and comfort him bc what no one’s ever done that before
his love language is most definitely words of affirmation and physical touch
mike is so stressed with his work schedule so he can’t always be there physically but he always, without fail, every. day. sends you a good morning and good night text.
that might not seem like much but it’s everything to me okay!!!!
“hey baby, good morning :) i love you the most and i hope you have an amazing day. im on my way to work now but when i get out ill text you and when i get home ill give you lots of kisses. i love you.”
that’s so fucking cute
you guys have frequent date nights that just consist of laying on the couch or in his bed and watching a movie while he lays on your lap or on your chest
Abby usually interrupts because she “can’t sleep” but we all know it’s just because she wants to watch the movie
Mike secretly has a savings account for the two of you
he wants the best for you and when he can give you the world he will
but for right now he’ll pay for some stuff and give you kisses afterwards
he makes playlists that remind him of you
he loves to give you his clothes
or, if you don’t want those, he gives you blankets of his that smell like him
Mike notices the little things
like if you told him a story about your cousin and how they pissed you off
and then you brought them up again
he would remember the incident but he wouldn’t remember their name
“oh isn’t that the cousin who did all of that stuff to you?”
you guys have deep talks at 2am while he lays on your stomach and you comb through his hair with your fingers and you guys just talk and make out
his lips are soft but his hands aren’t
you definitely flirt with him all the time to make him blush
he hates feet
like everyone wears socks in his house or he will shoot his eyes out
he also hates canned corn
don’t ask me why i think this is just do
he’s scared of being alone
he also most definitely uses “:) :( :/ .-.” instead of actual emojis
he laughs at all of your jokes
even if they’re just not funny
he dosent want you to get sad lol
he’s always scared he’s not enough for you
he works a lot and he’s constantly tired and he makes minimum wage so it’s not like he can take you out to fancy dates or anything
he opens up about how he feels and when you tell him how much you adore your little mundane activities he gets all teary eyed and just hugs you so tight
:(((
he just wants to be the best version of himself for you
he adores you
off topic - he’s a lightweight when he drinks
he’ll stumble into the house drunk and just clinging onto you like a sloth
poor baby
he just deserves the world
#love u mwah#thank you sm for this request#😾 anon#mike schimdt x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt headcanons#i love this man#fnaf movie#fnaf#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson characters
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can you believe on twitter people are starting to make regulus be fem
*GASP* THEY DID WHAT??
dunno if fem stands for identifying as female or presenting more feminine but yeah i sure can and Actually what a coincidence, would you look at that nonny, i dug this out of the depths of my docs just for you~
enjoy 1.7k of fem regulus (that i wrote for the jegulus microfics a few months back that took a life of its own and i never finished lol)
It had started with a debt.
No, that’s not true– actually, it had started with Professor Slughorn.
He’d sat down on his desk—yes, on, not at, long colorful knitted robes fluttering as he maneuvered himself into a pretzel. He’s a very strange man, that one, Pandora wagers he’s possessed by multiple old spirits, Shakespear and Van Gogh being only two of them—and had tapped a finger against his temple conspiratorially, “I’ve cooked another something up for you guys in here.”
Whenever Slughorn cooks something up in that cauldron of a head of his it’s either brilliant bordering on manic genius or it’s entirely stupid.
The given assignment is to write a song and produce a music video for it. Their final this semester.
Which sounds easy enough, but Slughorn had stressed multiple times that he wanted to be wowed as he’d slurped on his open coconut.
Which means they’re gonna have to put in a shit ton of effort.
“Form groups of five and figure it out,” he’d clapped his hands twice and then slid off the desk and went to leave as students started moving around the room and erupting into hushed discussions.
They’d pretty quickly figured out that Barty and Regulus would come up with the lyrics, they’d done it often enough, sometimes by accident when the brownies Pandora occasionally baked were a whoopsie too strong. Evan had leaned back with a grin and told them not to worry about the soundtrack and Lily and Pandora had already fallen into a tangent about cameras and equipment and location, possible props and friends they could rope into staring.
That’s when Regulus had taken her snake bite piercing between her teeth to smother a mean grin at the idea that popped into her head.
She plops down on her brother’s usual table in the yards, chunky platform heels propped on the bench and long legs on display under her mini skirt. Drives a hand through her wild mane and smiles sweetly, “Hi Jamie.”
As expected, his jaw drops slightly as James’ gaze breaks eye contact and takes on sliding down Regulus’ form where she’s propped herself deliberately right next to his meal.
Another voice at the table pipes up before the object of Regulus’ attention gets the chance to, “What do you want, Reggie?”
Regulus tilts her head, curls falling over her shoulders, eyes not letting off her target, “That’s none of your concern, Sirius.”
James licks his lips, “Hi Reg, how can I be of assistance to you today?”
Regulus leans forward with a smile, noticing the way James’ eyes flit down her low cut shirt for a second, “Remember that one time you’ve dared me to let the whole hockey team drink body shots off me?” Voice honey thick, the Just so you could get a taste goes without saying.
Behind her Sirius chokes on his lunch.
But James’ grin widens and he raises an eyebrow intrigued.
Regulus cards her pale fingers through James’ messy, black hair, makes it just a bit more messy as he looks up at her through his rounded glasses with those baby cow brown eyes of his and the corners of Regulus’ lips tug, “I’ve come to collect my debt.”
Evan produces a banger beat over the course of a single all-nighter that Regulus and Barty write their songtext to, tipsy as fuck on vodka lemon sodas out on Regulus’ small as fuck student housing balcony in the dead of night, moonlight just bright enough to see the pen of what they scrawl down onto the paper of their sketchbooks.
Regulus had left Lily in charge of the planning of availability on the location and the hockey team and Pandora to come up with a range of outfits to choose from for Regulus and the boys.
Evan finishes the song in record time for Regulus to record the vocals to and when it’s mixed and ready Evan’s grin is so bright Barty drives the girls out of the studio to do whatever debauched things to his boyfriend on the couch in there which one, Regulus doesn’t want to worry her pretty little head about too much since it’s her fucking voice– and two, means the song fucking slaps.
Barty also comes up with a slutty and good enough choreo that’ll give the video the dynamic it needs and together the four of them sweat away a few afternoons blending into evenings in front of the mirrors while Lily does whatever magic she does organizing.
Regulus hates that she’s not into girls in times like this.
It takes some time, obviously, you don’t just finish a song overnight and it takes a few weeks until almost everything is ready for the video shoot.
Regulus is sitting curled up on her desk chair while Pandora absolutely just takes her fucking closet apart, Ipad in one of her tiny hands, the Greedy Pinterest board open.
There’s already a pair of trainers and another pair of pointy, glittery heels thrown haphazardly on the end of her bed over the formerly neat sheets as well as a pair of black overknees and a cute lace-y, sage green bra that Regulus didn’t even know she had.
“Here,” Pandora blindly throws something over her shoulder at Regulus. They’re some older, white basketball shorts with black highlights. “Put these with the heels and the green top.”
Regulus does as told, albeit an eye roll that’s nearly painful as Pandora throws some white Nike socks after her. “Those too, babe.”
Another few beats pass where Regulus is bored and Pandora is rummaging and then she says, “Oh. my. gods,” and turns with a shiny faux leather bra hung loosely on her index fingers and a bright smile on her face, “You absolute slut.”
Regulus takes the compliment and gives her a sweet grin and a wink.
Pandora’s eyes take on a milky quality and then she asks, “Can you still do a split?”
Regulus takes a step into the middle of her room and falls into a nearly perfect split without any warm-up.
Pandora rolls her eyes at the showing off, badly containing another smile, “Again, I love you,” and then, a more contemplating expression, “How much do you think you think you can milk James of that debt of yours?”
Regulus scoffs, pointedly looks down at herself where she’s still sitting wide legged and at ease on her bedroom floor.
Pandora’s grin sharpens, “Text him you’re gonna need an old jersey and matching uniform shorts of his.”
And Regulus does just that. And if she sends the demand on Snapchat with a picture of her still in a split that’s none of anyone’s business but hers and Jamie’s.
James, as captain of the hockey team, is courteous enough to let them in with his own keys early in the morning of the shooting day.
They check out the rooms and halls for good spots and start bringing in bags and setting up equipment.
And James is just…helping.
Sticking around the whole fucking day actually.
Xeno and Mary have joined at some point with coffees, donuts and breakfast bagels, bless their fucking souls.
And when everything is as set in place as it can be it’s time for Regulus to change into the first outfit and start filming and James is still just…there.
Hovering with the crew, jostling elbows with Barty and Evan and peaking over Lily’s and Pandora’s shoulders and throwing Regulus glances and toothy smiles from across the room, showing no intention whatsoever to leave and come back later with his fucking team.
——— NSFW
James encourages the jerky movement of Regulus’ hips against his thigh, grip unrelenting on her waist as he leans impossibly closer, dragging his thumb along Regulus’ plump bottom lip, “You’d come like this, wouldn’t you, princess?”
Instead of answering Regulus sucks the thumb into her mouth, laving her tongue around it sloppily and making James breath stutter on the exhale.
“Fuck, good little slut– so desperate for it,” James says as he watches the movement of Regulus’ lips transfixed, continuing to get her off against his leg, “Want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby?”
And Regulus’ mouth drops around the sudden moan as her pace stutters, her eyes pricking with tears of the overwhelming toomuchnotenough and the degradation and sweet pet names and James’ lewd fucking mouth.
He pulls his thumb away and grabs at her ass with both hands, pulling their fronts flush together, two hard lines pressing at each other, “C’mon, princess, words.”
Regulus’ hands ball into fists at the front of James’ soft cotton shirt as she nods hopelessly, brows knit and voice husky, “Want you to fuck me.”
In the next blink James has her turned in his arms, palming at her stiff cock and pulling her ass back into him, his other arm coming around her front. Trailing faintly up her stomach, eliciting goosebumps, then grabbing at her breast and pressing a wet kiss on the side of her neck as a thumb brushes over a hard nipple behind the lace and Regulus groans.
“Be a good girl and stay down for me, yeah?” James rumbles into Regulus’ ear, nuzzling at the curls around her ear and the next moment there are calloused fingertips pressing into the nape of Regulus’ neck and she’s being pushed down against the counter.
James spanks her once across her right ass cheek for good measure it seems, another stay, and Regulus is helpless against the whine that crawls out of her, long hair falling into her eyes when her temple thumps against the marred, red countertop as James sinks to his knees behind her.
The hockey player palms at the swell of her thigh, right under the seam of her ass and kneads, warm humid breath puffing against Regulus’ entrance and she shivers against the exposure of the chilly air, whines something that sounds too close to Jamie and the man does nothing but keep looking and fucking chuckle. Bastard.
And then, “Oh, baby,” a groan and a bite to Regulus’ ass that has her whimpering pathetically, “Prettiest pussy, gonna get you all nice and wet for me.”
Regulus moans, and James hums as he dives in face first, grip strong around her thighs and tongue wet, slowly coaxing the tight ring of muscle open.
#not typically a fan of marauders twt from what i’ve heard but ay just let ppl do with their blorbos as they want#jegulus#jegulus fic#trans regulus#mtf regulus#lune writes
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sister
there‘s too little trent in this world, so take this🕺
i hope you like this lol.
reader is clay‘s little sister and her nickname is „missy“, it‘s no indication of her name tho :)
word count: 5k
not proof-read :)
(masterlist)
REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!
You happily smile and run into your brother's arms as soon as you see him. „I missed you big man,“ you laugh.
„Missed you too, Missy,“ Clay whispers into your hair, holding you close for another minute. „Thank you for inviting us,“ he then tells you, breaking the hug with a big smile on his face.
You grin and lightly shove his shoulder. „Of course I‘d invite you. It’s not often you have free time, you know. Besides, I don‘t want to spend Thanksgiving alone.“
When you look behind your older brother you see his team members finally approaching. They were waiting at the beginning of your driveway. They weren‘t all here today though. The team leader, Jason Hayes was with his family, as well as Ray Perry, but the others were invited to your Thanksgiving dinner.
„Hello, welcome,“ you enthusiastically greet them, waving. „Nice to finally meet you all. Clay told me much about you guys!“ You smile at them, shaking hand after hand.
They all smile at you and then one of them starts speaking. „Thanks for the invite. I‘m Sonny. I‘m surprised Blondie never told us about you,“ he tells you and you side-eye Clay before you start laughing.
„I think I need to have a talk with him regarding that matter,“ you tease. „But, let’s not talk about that! Please, come inside.“ You motion them to follow you and walk into your house. It was a little small but perfect for you. You couldn‘t imagine living somewhere else.
They follow you like a bunch of lost puppies and it‘s more than funny to you. You show them your living room and tell them to sit down. You would bring the food shortly, you say.
Clay follows you into the kitchen where you run around humming to yourself. „Are you trying to feed a whole bataillon?“ he laughs and you shriek.
„Jesus Christ!“ You place your hand over your heart. „Don‘t scare me like that!“ you scold him, jabbing your finger at him.
„I’m sorry,“ he laughs, pressing a kiss to your head. „Won‘t do it again. I just wanted to help you,“ he explains, starting to stir the gravy. „Been with these guys for too long.“
„Well, you chose to, didn‘t you?“ you ask putting the pie in the oven. „By the way,“ you look at him. „Who‘s the one with the beard?“
„We all have a beard Missy,“ Clay snorts and you roll your eyes.
„The one who didn‘t talk,“ you explain, tilting your head at your brother. „He only looked at me a bit strangely.“ You place the baking gloves on the counter and wipe a couple hair strands out of your face.
„Could be Brock or Trent. Why you wanna know?“
„He’s cute,“ you say with a shrug and Clay stops stirring. He turns around, eyes wide.
“No. No, no, no! You won’t make a move on one of my teammates!” he almost screams and you only laugh.
“Why not?”
“Because, firstly, I would work with the man fucking my sister, which is already weird enough and, secondly, you know our job,” his voice turns serious. “I don’t want you to…get your heart broken.” Clay averts his gaze, memories of his own breakup with Stella surfacing. She wasn’t able to live with the fear of losing him…
You already had him to worry about but dating another SEAL? He didn’t know if you could take that much stress and uncertainty. He wanted only the best for you.
You sign and walk towards him. “I know your job,” you confirm, gently placing your hand on his upper arm. “But does a dangerous job mean you guys are unlovable or don’t deserve it?”
You look up at him and he wants to cry. You were right but still, he didn’t want you to love one of them. Without saying anything he pulls you into his arms and keeps you close.
“Don’t…do anything you’ll regret,” he whispers and you tighten your arms around him. You never wanted to let him go. You’ve missed him too much…
“I promise,” you whisper back, a little tear escaping your eye. “Besides, I just said he’s cute. Never said I’ll make a move,” you then immediately joke, breaking the hug with a sniff.
Clay only rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smirk. “Maybe you did but I know you better.”
-
Trent sits on your couch, involved in a heavy discussion about football with Sonny. The Texan couldn’t accept the fact that he was the only hardcore football fan.
“We can watch soccer instead,” Brock retorts with a snort and immediately gains a death glare from Sonny.
„We‘re in America and in America you watch football!“ Sonny proudly exclaims, straightening his back and popping out his chest. „Besides, it‘s a long Thanksgiving tradition!“
Trent just rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the couch. He would look and ask if he could help anywhere. He’s not used to doing nothing. His hands are itching to do something.
When he‘s about to enter your kitchen he sees you and Clay breaking a hug. He decides to wait outside. You haven’t seen your brother in a long time and he wanted to give the two of you some privacy. When he‘s sure he can enter he slightly clears his throat.
You look to the door and smile when you see one of Clay‘s teammates. „Hey,“ you greet him, walking over to shake his hand. „Can I help you with anything?“, you want to know and he shakes his head.
„No, thanks. I actually wanted to ask if I can help you,“ he answers, trying his best to not look too intimidating. His height didn‘t help with that. „I‘m Trent, by the way,“ he’s careful not to stumble over his words.
He was nervous. Why was he nervous? You only were Clay’s sister. He didn’t know you. You didn‘t know him. So, why the hell was he nervous about talking to you?
„Uhm,“ you look around and totally miss the way Clay eyes his friend with a stern gaze (You didn‘t miss it). „I actually do need help, yes. These-“ you point at a couple of pots and the turkey. „-need to be set on the table.“
“Okay,” Trent slightly smiles before he looks at Clay. “You wanna help?” The younger SEAL stares at his friend for a couple seconds before he nods.
“Yea, I’ll tell you where to put it.”
“Great,” Trent mumbles as he picks up the turkey and leaves the kitchen, Clay following him with one of the pots. You look after them with a smile, then a laugh when you hear how your brother instructs his friend.
You decide to head to your living room to call the other guys. „Food‘s ready,“ you smile at them, peaking your head through the door. Sonny immediately stands up and claps his hands.
„That‘s my call!“ the Texan says and Brock snorts. Then he also stands up and walks towards you.
„I hope this isn‘t too much to ask but the dog‘s still in the car and I wanted to know if I‘d be allowed to get him out?“ He lightly tilts his head and you nod, an excited grin on your face.
„Sure! You can go and get him. Clay told me much about Cerberus!“ Relief washes over Brock and he excuses himself to get Cerberus. Normally he always took him with him but he didn‘t know how you‘d react to the shepherd dog.
„I‘m surprised that he didn‘t go crazy already,“ Clay retorts, suddenly by your side. „That dog‘s his life…“
„Well, at least he‘s got someone, no? Dog or not.“ You smile at your brother before you leave him alone to sit down in your dining room. „Are you coming?“ you turn around and he nods before following you.
-
„Missy, it‘s me!“ Your head shoots up when you hear Sonny‘s voice. What was the Texan doing in your house? Not that you didn‘t want him here, you‘ve become amazing friends with Bravo Team since your Thanksgiving dinner but it was 12am, so why was Sonny here?
Your head pops out of the kitchen and you eye Sonny. „What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.“
„Trent said I need to step back for a day or two. That fucker got me the wrong way during sparring,“ he explains while he stretches himself on your couch. „You have no problem with me being here, do you? I can also leave if you want me to.“ He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.
„Oh,“ you smile. „No, you can stay. I have no problem with that.“ You turn to leave to the kitchen again then you turn around once more. „I hope you‘re fine lasagne? Clay asked me to cook it since he‘ll be around for lunch today.“
Sonny starts to grin and stand up immediately. „Did you say lasagne? Count me in Ms.Spenser!“ He follows you to the kitchen like a lost puppy and you laugh at that.
„You really want to compete with Cerberus, do you?“ Sonny only snorts at your question and sits down on one of your kitchen chairs. You laugh and shake your head. „Normally he‘s the one following me to the kitchen like he‘s a saint.“
„He ain‘t a saint,“ Sonny retorts and you grin.
„No, he‘s not. But you are?“ You turn to look at him, just fast enough to see him smirk.
„Never said I was one,“ he answers with a shrug, a full grin now working its way onto his face. „No one‘s a saint,“ he continues, stretching out his legs. „Except for you maybe. You come quite close to one.“
„Why‘s that?“ you ask, sprinkling cheese over the lasagna. You glance at him over your shoulder. He has his hands crossed in his lap and his head laid back, eyes closed. You smile at that sight. If you learned one thing about Sonny it was that he always acted all tough and untouchable but deep down he just wanted peace and calm…
„You‘re nice, you care for us, Trent has a crush on you,“ Sonny starts listing, not paying attention to the fact that he‘d just exposed his brother and you freeze. Trent had what? Surely you must‘ve misheard it. „Jason likes your muffins, Clay isn‘t bitching around that much when he was with you before.“ Sonny opens his eyes and looks at you. „You want me to continue?“
You shake your head and walk over to the oven. „No…“ you sound a bit confused, almost irritated by Sonny‘s words. „You don‘t need to praise me to the heavens, Sonny.“ you force a smile at him. „I‘m just…a normal person. Nothing special.“ You push the lasagna inside and turn the oven on.
Sonny tilts his head at you. Something he said caught you off guard, he can feel it. „Is it because I told you Jace likes your muffins? I was not supposed to tell you but-“
You turn around. „It‘s not the muffins Sonny.“
„Mhh…“ Sonny recalls everything he told you and then his eyes widen. „Oh shit! It‘s what I said about Trent, right? Oh fuck!“ He stands up. „Look, just- I don‘t know… Just because I said it doesn‘t mean it needs to be true!“
You shut him up with your gaze and for a second he just stands in your kitchen staring at you. Then realization hits him. „Oh… You want it to be true, don‘t you?“ You feel blood rush into your cheeks and avert your eyes. Sonny wouldn‘t let you hear the end of it now…
You expect the Texan to crack jokes and maybe laugh but he just looks at you. „You like him“, he then slowly puts the pieces together further and you simply nod along. „Now I own Ray 50$, damn.“
Your eyes widen and you open your mouth. „You had bets on me?“ He can‘t be serious, can he?
„Of course,“ Sonny seems so casual about it. „Ever since you brought Trent soup when he had a cold. You didn‘t even do it for Clay when he was bedridden.“ You don‘t know how to respond to that. If the team knew… did Trent know it too? Your palms start to sweat.
„Does…does he know?“ you carefully ask Sonny and he snorts. Was that a good sign now or a bad one?
„That fucker is as oblivious as Cerb when Brock tells him they‘re going swimming but instead he drags him to the vet.“ You blink at Sonny, not sure what to do with that answer. Sonny sighs. „Long story short, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even think there's a possibility of you liking him back. That man is so head over heels over you that he tries to find even the slightest excuse to show up at your front door.“
„He…does?“ you’re still surprised by the fact that Trent apparently also likes you. You didn‘t know how to process all this.
„Of course,“ Sonny laughs. „Matter of fact, I‘m 100% sure he’s trying to convince Clay right now to let him come with him. Man‘s desperate to see you.“
You want to answer but then you think for a second. Why was Sonny telling you all this? Why was he breaking Trent‘s trust like that? This wasn‘t normal for Sonny…
„Why are you doing this Sonny?“ You then decide to ask. „Why are you telling me all this? Aren‘t you…betraying Trent right now?“
-
It‘s 11, maybe 11:30pm when you leave work and the cold wind collides with your face. You shiver and pull your jacket faster around you. You should‘ve taken your fucking car instead of walking to work this afternoon. You curse yourself as you quicken your steps and look around almost paranoid.
With Clay being your brother you always were very aware of what was happening around you. Clay made sure to teach you what he thought was necessary for you to know, that included the observation of everything around you and you’ve never been more thankful for it. It made you feel a tad more safe, especially now that you were walking around alone at night.
When you hear footsteps getting close to you you fish for your phone, never being more happy to have Clay on speed dial. You press your phone to your ear, your eyes glancing behind your shoulder. There was someone…
You decide to walk another way back home. One where you walk through the more populated areas of the town. While you try to keep an eye on your surroundings you wait for Clay to pick up. When he doesn‘t you suppress a curse and dial the next number. Sonny.
He would pick up, no? He is always on his phone anyway. But Sonny doesn’t pick up. You try to reach Clay again, then Sonny. They don’t answer.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, glancing behind you again. Whoever was walking behind you was surely following you. You’ve been taking other turns for the third time in a row now and they were still behind you.
You squint at your phone and take a deep breath. Without thinking twice about it you dial Trent’s number. You’re afraid you’ll break your phone with the grip you’re having on it but you try to keep calm. Clay prepared you for situations like this. Kinda.
“Trent? It’s me. Am I interrupting something?” you let out a relieved breath when he answers. “Could you do me a favor?” you’re even more relieved when he immediately answers with a yes. “I’m on my way back home from work and there’s someone follow-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before you hear him get up and grab his keys.
He asks you where you are and you quickly send him your live location. He promises you he’ll be there as fast as he can and your legs nearly give out from the sudden reassurance. You thank him over and over, quickening your steps once again.
“I’ll be there in 15,” you hear Trent say and you visibly relax. “Stay where you are, try to find a crowd or something close to that. I’m gonna stay in the line,” he explains and you nod, telling him you’ll do the best you can.
Your eyes scan the buildings surrounding you and then fall onto a small 24/7 shop. There surely was someone who could keep you company while Trent arrives, right?
“There’s a uh store,” you carefully say, your feet walking yourself over there almost by themselves. As expected Trent tells you to enter and look out for someone.
A small ‘ding’ signals you entering the store and you immediately start to hide between the shelves. And you were right to do so because only seconds later the bell rings again. You take a deep breath and grab one of the baking mixtures to look busy.
Then you call Trent’s name again. “I’m pretty sure they followed me into the store,” you quietly say, trying to glance around as unsuspiciously as possible. You pause for a second, the grip around the baking mix tightening. “Please tell me you’re here soon…”
“5 minutes,” he tells you, flooring the throttle of his truck. “5 minutes, then I’m there.” His grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white and he needs to keep himself calm more than ever.
On the battlefield he never was that nervous. His brothers could take care of themselves but you… You couldn’t.
Yes, Clay probably taught you basic self defense, he thinks but still. He could protect you better than you ever could…
When he arrives at your location he doesn’t bother properly parking his truck. He jumps out and tries to calmly walk towards the store but it‘s like his feet are itching.
He raises his phone, looking at the still ongoing call. „I‘m here,“ he tells you and then he opens the door. You‘re in his arms before he can even blink.
He stumbles two steps backwards before he can wrap his arms around you. „It‘s okay, it‘s okay,“ he says, his hand finding its way to the back of your head, keeping you close to him. „You’re not alone anymore.“
„God, that man was creepy,“ you breathlessly laugh, breaking the hug. You immediately miss the warmth Trent generated and heavily blush. „I‘m sorry for calling you so out of the blue-“ you want to apologize but he’s raising his hand to stop you.
„No, none of that. You can call me whenever you need. I‘m always there for you,“ he explains, looking you deep in the eyes. „Now, did you see the man? Do you know who he is?“
Trent‘s eyes narrow and the sparkling got replaced by a dangerous look. You shiver and swallow. You turn so you stand beside Trent and then you nod into the direction of a man. „That‘s him,“ you say. „He‘s been following me for at least three blocks.“
Trent looks at the man, then at you. „My truck‘s outside. Gimme three minutes and I‘ll join you there. I don‘t want you to witness this.“ He looks at you again and you nod.
„Okay. I‘ll go and wait…outside.“ You turn your back to Trent and leave, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You knew what he was gonna do. He‘ll nicely confront the man and probably calmly tell him to fuck off.
You stand beside his truck, already climbing in since it‘s still running and you can already see yourself patching up his bloody knuckles later. You sigh when you think about that. Sometimes you thought that he was just chasing trouble…
-
„Why are you looking at me like that?“ you mumble into your pillow, your eyes heavy with sleep.
„You’re pretty,“ Trent says and you can hear the smile in his voice. You quietly laugh and rub your eyes. Then you sit up in your bed and look at him. He sits on the floor, his back popped up against a wall.
„How long‘ve you been watching me?“ you want to know, smiling at him. He accompanied you home after the incident the night before and he refused to leave…
You offered him your couch, your bed even but he declined. So, he probably was awake the whole night, making sure you’re safe.
“I woke up about two hours ago,” he lies, placing his arms on his bent legs. “I made breakfast,” he then tells you, standing up with a low grunt. “Get ready, then we can eat.” He smiles before he leaves your room.
You quickly stand up and throw on some clothes before you rush to the bathroom to get ready. On the other side of your flat stood Trent in your kitchen, asking himself if he was going crazy.
He couldn’t think straight whenever he was with you and damn, it was showing. Telling you you look pretty while you just woke up? Watching you sleep in the first place? What the hell was he going through?
He wasn’t unfamiliar with being in love, that’s what brought him his two ex wives… So, he really wasn’t new to it but why was he acting so weird with you now? It shouldn’t be weird, no?
“You made all this?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks at you. Fuck, you were even more beautiful now… How was he supposed to look past that and just…be normal?
„I did, yeah,“ he smiles, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. You grin up at him, the crinkles around your eyes showing and he just feels like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
„You didn‘t have to,“ you laugh, crossing your arms in front of your body. „This is- You didn‘t need to-“ you want to finish your sentence but Trent interrupts you. He gently leads you towards your table and pulls back a chair for you.
„I wanted to,“ he simply says. „Besides I already got the call that I need to leave soon, so I just wanted to make you happy before I and the team vanish for god knows how long again.“ He sits down opposite to you and fills your and his glass with orange juice.
„Will Clay pick you up?“ you ask, taking a sip of your orange juice. Trent shakes his head saying something about Clay not being allowed to know he was here and that Sonny wouldn‘t let him hear the end of it if he found out that he spent the night at yours.
You only laugh at that and continue to eat your breakfast. „I can drive you?“ you then suggest but he kindly denies.
„I can drive on my own Missy, don‘t worry. Besides, don’t you have to work today?“ Trent chews on his bread roll, curiously eying you but you just shake your head. You wouldn‘t need to work the next three days.
-
Your lungs sting as you run into the ER. You look around, panic in your eyes, your body shaking.
“Ma’am? Can we help you?” a young nurse asks, clearly worried. “Is everything okay?” She gently places a hand on your arm and your head snaps towards her.
“Clay Spenser. Where is he?” you rasp out, eyes teary. “I’ve been told he’s here.” Your voice breaks and the first tears run down your cheeks.
The nurse nods along and carefully leads you down a hallway. “I’m afraid we can’t help you but my colleague can surely tell you which room he is.” She smiles at you and you want to smile back but you just…can’t.
After half an hour of asking around you’re finally led to your brother’s room, your throat dry. You didn‘t know anything about his condition. Everything they told you was that he was being treated in the hospital.
„One of his friends is also in there,“ you’re informed as you come to a hold in front of the room. „We can ask him to leave at any moment though since he does not count as family.“
You only smile at the nurse. „No need for that. I…know him.“ You didn‘t know who of Bravo was with your brother right now but nevertheless you knew him. And besides, this team was family. They maybe didn‘t share the same DNA but the same blood was adorning their hands.
When the nurse was sure you were fine on your own she left you at the door, a comforting hand on your shoulder before she walked away. You stare at the door, taking a deep breath and opening it with trembling hands.
You pushed it open, your breath hitching when you notice all the monitors scattered around the room and the endless beeping of said machines.
You can see someone move and walk towards you in the corner of your eye. You know who it is when he lays his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.
Trent doesn’t say a word while you cry, only holding you close and keeping a hand comfortingly on your back. He felt a bit helpless right now, not really knowing what to do but all you needed was just him holding you…
„Thank you for staying with him,“ you whisper after a couple moments, sniffing and breaking the hug. You want to wipe away your tears, feeling embarrassed for losing control like that but he gently wraps his hands around your wrists, pulling them away from your face.
You’re confused for a moment but then he pulls out a tissue and carefully starts to wipe away your tears. You feel like you could start to cry all over again.
„Thank you,“ you sniff again but he just shakes his head.
„You don‘t need to thank me.“ Then he pulls you into his arms again, planting a kiss on your head. „You both are family.“ Trent breaks the hug and cups your face with gentle hands.
„I know you’re scared for him right now,“ Trent glances into the direction of the bed where Clay was laying. „But he’s stable. He‘s pulling through. He’s a strong one.“
Your hand reaches out to place it over his, pulling them from your face and holding them in yours. You say nothing, only holding his hands and working up the courage to finally look at your brother.
„How did it happen?“ you ask, your voice almost being stuck in your throat.
„That’s…classified. I‘m sorry,“ Trent says in a quiet voice. „But, he’s got a couple of broken ribs, his lungs have seen better days and the fingers of his right hand are broken.“
Fresh tears gather in your eyes as you listen to Trent, letting go of him with trembling hands and walking towards Clay. „I told him that his job would demand its tribute sooner or later. He didn‘t listen…“ You sniff, carefully sitting down at the edge of the bed. „He never listens to me…“
-
“I thought you’d kill me as soon as I wake up,” Clay breathlessly laughs while you take a look at his bandages. He was currently laying on your couch, letting himself be treated by you.
“I would’ve,” you mumble. “If it weren’t for Trent.” You reach for the bandage tape and rip off a piece to place it over his arm brace so the bandage would stay in place.
Clay looks at you, tilting his head. “You like him, don’t you?” he then carefully asks and you halt for a second.
“What if I do?” you return the question, avoiding his gaze and fumbling with the tape in your hands.
You can feel your brother looking at you anyway, his eyes burning into your head. “I’d probably try and beat him up.”
“You would fail.”
“I know.” His hand reaches for yours and you finally look up. “I know what I told you when you first met them and…I still mean it but I can’t control who you love.” Clay pauses for a second, his gaze softening. “If you love him then so it be… Besides, he also has a thing for you but I think you know that already.” Clay starts to chuckle at the end of his sentence, his thumb carefully stroking the back of your hand.
“Guard your heart Missy. Don’t give it to the next best asshole.”
“Are you saying your friend is an asshole?” Your eyes widen with surprise.
“That’s not what I said!” Clay immediately shakes his head. “He’s a good guy—I know that for sure—but there are dudes who aren’t as amazing as lovely Trent. I’m asking you to be careful about them.”
You slightly smile before you sigh and stand up. “I don’t think you have to worry about me Clay. I’ll be fine as long as you don’t decide to run into a grenade anytime soon again.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes in a joking manner. “Sonny said the path was clear.”
-
“You think he’s okay with this?” Trent carefully asks as he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“I don’t care what he thinks,” you reply, leaning against him, looking down at your hands. “I’m a grown up. I can do what I want.”
Trent chuckles, glancing at you with a gentle smile. “Do I need to expect the big-brother-talk?” He then wants to know. He needed to know what he needed to prepare for when he saw Clay again.
“More of a big-brother-beating,” you snort with a laugh. “I told him he’d lose and he knows it too but he wants to try anyway.”
“I promise I won’t be too hard on him,” Trent laughs, pressing a kiss to your head. “He’s still not cleared to operate so I need to look after him anyway.”
You don’t reply to that, only enjoying the moment, finally in Trent’s arms, without having to worry about anything in the world. You knew that sooner or later you’d be confronted by his job and its bad sides but right now you didn’t care about that.
You were with him and that was wall what you needed right now.
#writing#ao3#fanfiction#archive of our own#story writing#seal team#seal team paramount#trent sawyer#brock reynolds#jason hayes#clay spenser#sonny quinn#scott carter#trent sawyer x reader#trent sawyer seal team#brock reynolds seal team#jason hayes seal team#clay spenser seal team#sonny quinn seal team
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HAPPY BDAYYYY !!! coincidentally it is also my mom's bday today lol, here's a lil buckytony for u !!!
which connects to my prompt: tony is used to feeling cold, he had to be (the cave was so cold in the death of the night) and he knows that bucky is, too, even if the man always seem to run hot due to the serum. well, it's the winter season, what better excuse does he have except that he needs a human blanket? basically tony holding hands, hugging, or cuddling bucky to fend off the cold !!
happy birthday again !!!
hello!!! i’m SO sorry this took practically half a year but i just want you to know that your art makes me so happy and seeing this in my inbox was one of the best gifts i could have asked for. bucky and tony are so fucking cute and i’m obsessed with bucky’s blush and tony’s eyelashes 🥰 i hope your mom also had a lovely time celebrating her birthday!!
anyway, without delaying this any further than i already have—
———
Bucky had never been able to feel anything with the heavy silver arm that was forced onto him, which made it useful as a shield as well as a blunt force weapon. It was perfect for the Winter Soldier, the unfeeling assassin whose sole existence was to comply orders and complete missions. Having it blown off may have been a shock at first, but it had quickly morphed into relief when Bucky had realized that losing the arm was the first real step towards finally, truly breaking free from the shackles of Hydra.
Since having his triggers removed and embarking on his slow journey towards recovery, Bucky has decided that he has no interest in fighting anymore, keen to stay home and monitor the feeds while the rest of the team is out being heroes. He’s happy to be retired, happy to uncover new things about himself as he learns how to bake croissants and build terrariums. It’s a kind of peace he never thought he’d be able to have when he was trapped for seventy years as a prisoner of war, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
So when he had been asked what he would like in a new prosthetic, Bucky had said, just a regular arm; no super strength, no nifty weapons hidden in the plates. Just a functional part of his body for him to get through his daily life.
Tony had gone above and beyond, presenting Bucky with a prosthetic that had far exceeded his expectations. Not only is the arm intuitive, with nanobots that shift like real muscle and fat as Bucky moves, but it is also regulated to match the rest of Bucky’s body in strength and temperature. If it had been painted a color to match Bucky’s skin, it would almost be indiscernible to a real arm.
Despite the prosthetic being made with the most advanced technology the world has to offer—despite all the cyborg jokes his friends like to tease him with—Bucky has never felt more human.
With the new arm, Tony hadn’t just given Bucky back a sense of normalcy. He’d also given Bucky a brighter future than he had ever dared to imagine.
He still remembers the day in the lab after they had run through their last series of tests with the new arm.
He had just put down the stress ball they used for the pressure test, still marveling at how he could feel the texture of the rubber, when Tony had spoken up.
“Okay. One last thing I’d like us to try. Hold your hand out?”
Bucky had done as he was asked, not quite sure what to expect, when Tony had reached out with his right hand and wound their fingers together. He hadn’t been able to hold back a gasp, staring at their joined hands as he felt the cold of Tony’s hand seeping through the warmth that he hadn’t realized was coming from his own arm. Then Tony had squeezed once, affectionately, stepping closer until they were only inches apart, and Bucky’s heart had stuttered in his chest as he glanced up and saw the way Tony had been smiling at him.
“How does this feel?” Tony had asked, red faintly dusting his cheeks in a way Bucky had been sure no one else had ever seen before.
Feeling whole and brave, and like the ice in his veins is finally starting to melt for the first time in decades, Bucky had gently squeezed back.
“Good. It feels nice. You feel nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I like it.”
“Well, good. You’re warm, so I think I’ll be holding on to you for a while. You know, just to stave off the cold,” Tony had declared.
“Sure thing, doll.”
Tony is tactile. That had been the first thing that Bucky learned about Tony when the team had been pardoned, made their amends with each other, and gone back to New York.
His touches are gentle and reassuring, drawing smiles from whoever he has focused his attention on at the moment. Rhodes leans into the hand that Tony brushes against his back as he walks by, for a moment relying on his friend’s strength instead of his leg braces. Natalia is a constant presence by Tony’s side during movie nights, bumping her head against his hand like a cat just so he would play with her hair. Peter beams like he’s aced a test every time Tony squeezes his shoulder affectionately after helping with his physics homework. Steve rolls his eyes fondly whenever Tony pokes his abs teasingly after a workout, but always teases right back by lifting his shirt up to goad Tony into doing it again.
Being touched by Tony is like a drug, and Bucky has been addicted since the first time Tony held his hand. Which is just as well, because when Tony said he would be holding on for a while, he wasn’t kidding.
After that first time in the lab, Tony always, always holds Bucky close when they’re together.
He takes Bucky by the hand and drags him to dinner with the team, never loosening his grip even when Sam raises a pointed eyebrow at their joined hands. “For warmth,” Tony says, and when he takes his place at the table, he promptly kicks Steve out of his usual spot because he refuses to release their entwined fingers. Bucky just watches amusedly as Steve takes his old seat next to Rhodes and sits down next to Tony, only letting go so he can scoot closer and swing his arm across the back of Tony’s chair as they eat.
He drapes Bucky’s left arm over his shoulder when they’re out, snuggling close to his side as they take the long way walking home after dinner. “For warmth,” Tony says, even though he’s wrapped up in several layers of expensive wool and cashmere. Bucky just pulls him in tighter and steers him towards their favorite gelato bar for dessert, because even though Tony runs cold and always claims he doesn’t like sweets, Bucky knows he’d never say no to ice cream.
He sleeps on the right side of the bed so he can use Bucky’s arm as another pillow, despite knowing the hard planes of metal can’t possibly be comfortable for him. “For warmth,” Tony says as he presses a kiss to Bucky’s reconstructed shoulder and dozes off under their weighted blanket made of the fluffiest down feathers. Bucky just smiles indulgently and curls in closer, perfectly happy to tolerate overheating in his sleep if it means going to bed every night with his favorite person in the world.
Having Tony in his arms warms him from the inside out, like an endless summer after a lifetime spent lost in the cold.
#hahahaha the ending is cheesy as heck but idc!!! i love them your honor#is this my first real winteriron fic#buckytony#winteriron#starkbucks#bucky barnes#tony stark#kay writes things#ketzel#ask
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Lol as soon as I saw this I knew I wanted it 😭😂😂
IMG 4, prompts 37 & 38 with either Chan or Seungmin please! 🩷🌸
Skz prompt game
Prompts: "You're n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you...?"
"Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?"
Member: Kim Seungmin
Relationship: Neighbors!FemReader x Seungmin
The first time you'd met Kim Seungmin, it had been under completely normal circumstances.
You had needed to borrow a cup of sugar.
Cliche, right?
But you really needed to stress bake these cookies and eat them all before bed, because you had a big job interview in the morning and what better way to relieve some anxiety than with warm chocolate chip cookies?
So, when you'd realized you had no sugar, it was a catastrophe, to say the least.
Without even thinking, you had gone next door and knocked on your neighbor's door.
You only realized it was a bad idea after it was too late to take it back.
After Kim Seungmin had opened the door looking like some sort of nerdy Greek God, confusion spread across his pretty face, dark hair still damp from a shower.
He had stared at you with confusion, and in a squeak, you had asked if he had any sugar you could borrow.
He had given you a look that clearly said he still didn't understand why you needed sugar at ten PM at night, but had promptly gone to retrieve you a cup.
You had taken it with a mumbled 'thanks' and scurried back to the safety of your own apartment.
Surprisingly, the cookies did not make you feel better, because they were only meant to soothe your new job anxiety, not erase the stupidly awkward way you had introduced yourself to your incredibly hot neighbor.
You vowed the next time you saw Kim Seungmin, you would be calm and collected, smooth and put together, ready for anything, not standing on his threshold in barely matching pajamas with a bird's nest for hair, holding a measuring cup.
Oh, how Karma is a Bitch.
********************************************************************************
The next time you see Kim Seungmin, it's just as bad, or maybe worse-no definitely worse-than the first time.
He opens his door at your knock, and his eyebrow ticks up in surprise when he sees you.
You give a little sheepish wave. "Hi."
He leans against the doorframe, and you try not to notice the way his cozy, soft looking sweater stretches over his arms as he does so.
Recognition crosses his face.
"Oh, Number Four right?"
You stare at him, confused. "What?"
He gives a little grin, and cocks his head, watching you, before he jerks his chin toward your apartment door directly down from his.
"You're from Number Four, yeah?"
You realize, with a jolt of stupidity and a flush to your cheeks, that he's referencing your apartment number, because of course, you hadn't given him your name the first disaster of a night.
You had been more focused on getting back to your apartment before you spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.
"Oh, right. Yeah." You give an awkward little laugh and swing your arms a little. "That's me."
Seungmin studies you for another brief moment, and you begin to fidget, before he asks, "How'd the interview go?"
You jerk in surprise, staring at him wide eyed.
He remembered?
"Um-" You scratch at the back of your neck, suddenly flushing again under his gaze, scuffing the toe of your shoe on the old, worn carpet that lines the hallway. "Yeah! Good. I got the job."
"That's great." Seungmin says with a smile, and you think he genuinely means it.
You stand in silence for a couple more moments, and then he clears his throat, finally asking, "So, did you need something?"
Fuck, you had forgotten the whole reason you had knocked on his door in the first place.
Something about big, brown, doe eyes did that to your stupid little monkey brain.
"Oh, yeah!" You give another nervous little laugh, and try to ignore the burning of your cheeks. "I um, kinda locked myself out of my apartment. Do you mind if I use your balcony to get in through my window?"
Surprise flashes across Seungmin's face, and then he's moving aside, giving you room to enter his apartment.
"Oh, um, yeah, sure. Go right ahead."
You squeeze past him in the doorway, and try to ignore the slight scent of his cologne that wafts over you as you do so.
Something cedar lined, if you had to bet, with hints of pine.
Focus, (Y/N).
Seungmin follows you through his kitchen and living room, and you note, with slight interest, that his apartment is just how you imagined from the one time you'd interacted.
Shelves of books line the wall behind the TV, and there's few and sparse decorations, but a nice, large leather couch takes up the majority of the living room space.
It's nice and cozy. Definitely a bachelor pad.
There's no touch of anything feminine-not even a cardigan left over the back of a chair, or shoes in the hall.
The thought makes you giddy for some reason.
Seungmin skirts around you to push open the large window that leads to his balcony, and gives you an amused sort of look as you consider the most ladylike way to shove your body through a window.
"Okay, um-" You hesitate, fingers wrapping around the sill, and glance out to the balcony beyond.
There's a couple of pots of what looks like herbs growing on the ledge that lines the window, but you should be able to shimmy your way out relatively easily.
"Need a boost?" Seungmin asks from behind you, and you jump so hard that your head hits the top of the sill.
He chuckles. "Sorry."
You shake your head, your face so red it could heat and cook an egg, and decide to just get it over with.
Surely someone like Seungmin isn't going to be looking at your ass as you crawl through his window anyway.
"Here I go." You announce, not really sure why, and push yourself out through the open window, hands first.
Your legs dangle for a minute as you scooch your body over the wide sill, and then with a slight shriek, you topple headfirst onto the grated metal floor of the small balcony.
"You good?" Seungmin peeks his head out, staring down at you.
You access yourself and then nod, dusting yourself off and standing up, gripping the fire escape railing for support.
Fuck, you had thought the third floor wasn't that high up, but out here-
You swallow, and focus back on the man still leaning out the window.
You give him a thumbs up that you hope looks more confident than you feel. "All good. Thanks for the help."
Seungmin watches as you slowly creep your way against the wall to your own terrace, and swing a leg over the railing to the adjoining balcony.
"How do you know your window is going to be open?" He queries, seeming like he's making conversation, and while you would like nothing more, you'd rather it be when you weren't three hundred feet off the busy street below.
You grunt a little as you lower yourself to your own balcony, and take a moment to catch your breath.
"I always leave it unlocked." You reply back, leaning forward enough that you can jostle your window and heave it upward.
It opens easily, and you let out a triumphant whoop.
"That seems unsafe." Seungmin comments, and when you glance back, he's sitting on the ledge of his own window so he can see you, legs dangling, worry in his dark brown eyes.
"What, leaving my window unlocked?"
He nods seriously. "Yeah, I mean, the crime rate is pretty high here."
You snort. "We're three hundred feet off the ground, dude. It'd have to be a pretty determined criminal."
You swing a leg over into the safety of your apartment, and let out a sigh of relief.
Seungmin's voice makes you pause.
"Stranger things have happened."
He still sounds concerned, and you slide the rest of your way into your apartment before you lean back out the window, popping your head around the sill so you can meet his gaze.
"The only thing that these tiny balconies have ever been used for, Number Six, is what you just witnessed." You give him a little grin.
Seungmin looks resigned, before he holds out a hand into the space between the two of you. "Throw me your phone."
You stare at him like he's just grown a second head.
"I am not throwing you my phone. Knowing my luck, you won't catch it and it'll smash on the concrete three hundred feet below us."
"I'll catch it." Seungmin assures, hanging farther out his window, giving you a pointed stare.
You slip your phone from your pocket and heft it into you palm, wondering how incredibly stupid you have to be to put this much trust in a man you've only met twice.
Though, he did let you use his balcony, so you guess you sorta owe him.
Resisting the urge to close your eyes to what happens next, you toss your phone over the railing to him.
He catches it easily, and you let out the breath you'd been holding.
He types something, and then tosses the phone back to you once more. You fumble it, but palm it in time, and stick it back into the safety of your pocket.
"Now you have my number." He announces, giving you a cheeky little look and an arch of his brow. "Just in case you ever get locked out again, or you need someone to save you from all the bad things that come in through your unlocked window."
You resist the urge to squeal and look at your phone.
Instead, you clear your throat and say in a rather calm voice, "Thanks. I appreciate the help. And the number."
He waves you away with a sigh, and starts to duck back into his own apartment. "Yeah, yeah. See you around, Four."
You grin, and shut your window.
********************************************************************************
You: I have a favor to ask. 👀
Six(y) Seungmin: Oh no. 😮💨
You: It's not bad!!! Six(y) Seungmin: Considering the last two favors you've asked of me were 1) for a cup of sugar and 2) to climb out my balcony, I'd say the spectrum with you is *very* broad and I have a right to be apprehensive.
You: .....Touché.
Six(y) Seungmin: What's the favor, Four?
You: Can you possibly, maybe, water my plant while I'm gone this weekend? Pretty please??
Six(y) Seungmin: *Plant*. As in, you have *one* plant?
You: Yes?🤨 What's wrong with that? If I have too many, I can't keep them all alive and I panic and then I feel awful when they die and have to have plant funeral services for them all. 🥺
Six(y) Seungmin: OMG. Fine. I'll water your *ONE* plant. 😑
You: You are an angel, Six.🥹 His name is Yongbok.
Six(y) Seungmin: ....like the fucking KPOP star?
You: I will not be taking anymore judgement this chat session, thank you. 😌
Six(y) Seungmin: 😮💨😮💨😮💨 You don't have to choose to take it, but just know it's there regardless.
********************************************************************************
"I made cookies!" You announce as soon as Seungmin opens his door, sweeping past him without waiting for him to invite you in.
He sighs, shutting the door behind you, and when he turns, his eyes go a little wide, staring at the large platter of chocolate chip cookies filling your hands.
"Holy shit, Four, how many cookies did you make?"
You glance down at the platter and give a little sheepish shrug. "I was stress baking."
He stares at you. "Why were you stress baking?"
Your cheeks go pink, and you set down the oversized tray of cookies on his table, jumping up on the counter to swing your legs.
"I have an annual performance review tomorrow."
Seungmin sighs again, and you know it's killing him to watch you sit on the counter without telling you off, but to his credit, he doesn't say anything, cocking a brow and asking, "And you think you'll do badly?"
"What? No!" You immediately protest, but then consider for a moment. "I mean, I don't think so? But also, it's stressful, and I don't know-"
Seungmin makes an understanding sound in the back of his throat, leaning against the couch, and you realize suddenly, as you reach over to pluck a cookie off the tray, that he's wearing nothing more than a robe, cinched tightly around his narrow waist.
The hand holding the cookie freezes halfway to your mouth.
Seungmin raises an eyebrow, staring you down.
"You're n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you...?"
His brow ticks higher. "I mean. That's kind of the point of having my own apartment, so I can wear-or not wear-whatever I want, right?"
You shove the cookie into your mouth instead of responding, not wanting to lead your thoughts down that path, and promptly choke on the sugary treat, coughing violently.
Seungmin watches, a smirk curving his lips, as you dart to sink and take a long, gulp of water.
Your eyes are watering when you finally turn back to him, cheeks red and mind buzzing.
Instead of addressing the elephant in the room-obviously choking on a baked good at your friend's state of undress is not considered ordinary platonic behavior-you promptly cover your eyes dramatically, joking loudly, "Oh my god, put on some clothes! My eyes are burning here, Six!"
Seungmin sighs, and you hear his footsteps pad from the room.
Peeking out from between your fingers, your cheeks still burning, you turn back to the sink, and promptly splash cold water on your face and neck.
Everything is hot at the thought of Seungmin completely bare beneath that robe. And when you say everything, you mean everything.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
********************************************************************************
You: If I fucked as loudly as our upstairs neighbors, I would never show my face in public again. 🤢
Six(y) Seungmin: Sounds like you're jealous.
You: WHAT I AM NOT JEALOUS. WHY WOULD I BE JEALOUS.
Six(y) Seungmin: It's okay to admit you're in a bit of a dry spell, Four.😏 I mean, I've never seen you bring anyone home-guy or girl alike.
You: Oh, because you can tell so much from my comings and goings. 🙄
Six(y) Seungmin: That and you spend all your time with me. So. I know you're not getting any action. 😝
You: I hate you.
Six(y) Seungmin: No you don't. You're just cranky as fuck because you haven't been laid in like 6 months.😘
You: Reported. Blocked. Deleted.
********************************************************************************
"You know, most young people spend their free time at clubs or with their friends on the weekends, Four."
You glance up from your spot on the small fire escape balcony to see Seungmin grinning at you, climbing out onto his own balcony.
You lift a shoulder in a shrug. "Yeah, well I'm not most people."
Seungmin chuckles, checking over his carefully potted herbs before he glances up at you, a slight smirk on his lips. "Yeah, I've noticed."
You stick your tongue out at him, and settle your back more comfortably against the wall behind you.
"You're here too." You point out, glancing over at him again, as he sits down, legs dangling over the grating, thousands of feet above the busy nighttime street below.
"That I am." He admits with a tilt of his head in your direction and a sigh. "That I am."
There is silence for several seconds, both of you watching the tiny people below coming and going, the bustle of the city a quiet hum filling the cool night air.
It's nice out here.
Especially with Seungmin's company.
"What, did your weekend dick appointment fall through?" You glance at him sidelong, voice teasing, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as the breeze picks up.
Seungmin gives you a slight smile. "Something like that."
"Bummer." You tease back, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes, letting the breeze caress your face, before you stare up for a moment at the stars just starting to breech the smog. "No other crazy weekend plans?"
Seungmin makes a little noise in his throat that you take as a no, and comfortable silence falls once more.
You hear Seungmin shift his position, and then he says off handedly, "You know, Four-"
"Hm?" You hum beneath your breath, still squinting to see the stars.
He shifts again. "-we could be each other's crazy weekend plans from here on out. If you wanted."
You blink slowly, trying to digest his words, not sure if you've heard him right.
Sitting up, you stare at him, his lips pulled into the hint of a nervous smile that doesn't quite reach his dark, beautiful eyes.
"What?" You ask stupidly, still staring at him, brain whirring.
Seungmin clears his throat, looking away to glance down at the street once more. "I'm just saying. We spend all our free time together anyway, maybe we could-"
He trails off, and you're still staring.
Butterflies are starting to come to life in your stomach.
Is he-?
"Are you asking me to date you?" You ask incredulously, shock morphing across your features, even as your stomach swoops at the crazy notion.
Seungmin rolls his eyes and pins you with a stare. "Well, you don't have to say it like you think it's a repulsive idea-"
"I'm sorry!" You laugh, waving your hands, scooting closer to your own railing, so you can stare at him through the bars. "I didn't mean it to come out like that. I just didn't think-"
"Didn't think what?" Seungmin questions, encouraging you to continue.
You clear your throat, your cheeks hot, and drop his gaze, your tone softening. "You were into me like that. Like I'm into you."
There is a beat of silence, and then Seungmin laughs, loudly and slightly unhinged, and you jerk your eyes up to him in surprise.
"Oh my god." He gasps out, fingers gripping the railing, almost close enough to brush your own. He stares at you with open glee in his dark gaze. "You're into me?"
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, giving him a glare. "Of course I'm into you! I think I've been halfway in love with you since the first time we met and you opened the door looking like some sort of studious Greek Adonis!"
Seungmin laughs some more and you watch as he swipes at his eyes, catching his breath.
"Oh god." He huffs out another little chuckle, and glances back to you, eyes gleaming, mouth pulled up at the corners. "I did think it was a little weird, stress baking and needing sugar at almost midnight, but after you left that night, I couldn't get you out of my head. I kept hoping you'd come back to return my measuring cup, but you left it on my doorstep without knocking and I didn't think I'd see you again."
"And then I locked myself out." You giggle, realizing just how silly you'd both been up until this point.
"Yeah." Seungmin nods, expression warm and affectionate. He leans forward to put his hand through the bars of the railing, and you take it.
His fingers curl around yours, and warmth spreads through your body.
A mischievous look glints in his eyes suddenly.
"Hey, Four, think you can make the climb over the balcony just one more time? For old times sake?"
You arch your brow at him, biting back a smile. "What's in it for me, Six?"
He grins. "A kiss?"
You grin back and nod, already moving. "Yeah, I think I can brave it one more time for that."
********************************************************************************
Six(y) BF: Okay. Listen. You. Me. Dinner.
You: Go on. 👀
Six(y) BF: Dessert on the balcony.
You: OMG. Are you trying to turn me on at work or are you really just that oblivious? 🥵
Six(y) BF: And then. Hot, dirty couch sex. 😏
You: I'm in.✅
Six(y) BF: Don't say I don't know what you like. 😘
You: Honestly, you had me at dessert, but the sex thing definitely sealed the deal.
Six(y) BF: I knew it would. 😏
Be ready. I'll pick you up at 8 PM sharp.
You: Don't be late.
Six(y) BF: Wouldn't dream of it. 😘
You: 😘 Love you, Six. 💗
Six(y) BF: Gross.
Love you too, Four. 💗
#skz#stray kids#stay#skz prompt game#prompt game#kim seungmin#seungmin#y/n#femreader#skz imagines#skz reactions#skz scenarios#skz fluff#skz crack#seungmin x you#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin x you#kim seungmin x reader#fluff#crack#inbox#reply#my submissions#submission#neighbor au#apartment au#skz au#minnie
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This has been a beyond stressful month but it's all coming together and I'm grateful. My husband is very intense when he feels like there is a big task on his list, he fucking jumps into the deep end and gets that shit done. He is consumed by the sheer adrenaline of crossing a big task off of his to do list so he can go back to day to day tasks.
I am lazier, I take my time, I don't like to rush, I don't like to overwhelm myself... lol. But when it's something like buying a car / home / finding an Airbnb, we literally will spend all of our waking time just focusing on *the thing* until it is done.
The last 2 weeks in Miami have been so go,go,go I feel like it's been 1 month. We saw dozens of apartments. Kevin had our schedules filled with appointments for 6 days straight, starting the day after our 3-day drive from NY. I had to tell him to remember I'm pregnant way too many times but it's genuinely the ADHD hyperfocus. It's amazing and awful all at once.
We move on Wednesday, the 13th! I have a huge Amazon Fresh order ready to go, including Challah baking supplies. I want our first Shabbat in this apartment to be special for Kevin. It will mean a lot to him; I want to surprise him when he comes up from the resident co-working space after work that evening :)
It will be a Shabbat dinner probably on the floor, but I think he will really appreciate it <3
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I love seeing everyone’s different ways of interpreting and presenting Pon Farr based on the limited canon info we have, and tbh I usually just go with whatever is best in service of the story I’m wanting to tell whenever I write about it (I have multiple Pon Farr fics that pretty readily contradict each other lol), but my favorite sort of interpretation is that the plak-tow itself is the peak of the whole thing, the real fuck-or-die moment, and that only lasts a few hours at most if fulfilled properly. But there’s a whole lead up to that and then a taper off from that which can last days or weeks, and that whole chunk of time is considered the Pon Farr.
Under ideal circumstances, that whole time, or at least most of it, would be spent with one’s mate. And there would be lots of cuddling and lots of sex and lots of weird animalistic licking and sniffing and scenting in the lead up to the plak-tow.
A Vulcan who’s mate enters Pon Farr would usually enter their own sympathetic cycle, triggered both telepathically by the bond, and physically by their mate’s pheromones, so they’d be very receptive to all the sex and snuggles. A non-Vulcan mate may experience sympathetic symptoms as well, but much milder ones, since they’d only have the telepathic trigger, and they don’t have their own set of baked in Pon Farr instincts.
Following the plak-tow, the instinct to fuck is gone, but it’s replaced with an instinct to take care of one’s mate-more snuggles, and some tongue-bathing (or actual bathing if their head is clear enough to remember that showers exist) and hand-feeding. Instinctive aftercare!
This is also the time it’s most important to leave your Vulcan buddies alone, though they’d want isolation through the whole Pon Farr-at this point, their instincts are thoroughly convinced that this mating will result in pregnancy, regardless of how true or even possible this may actually be. If the afflicted Vulcan is the one who’d be doing the impregnating, they’re liable to be massively defensive and protective of their mate, to the point of violence. If the afflicted Vulcan is the one who’d be getting impregnated, then their mate’s sympathetic symptoms would make them nearly just as defensive, and it would also just be massively stressful for the poor Vulcan recovering from their plak-tow to have a visitor. Don’t stress out your buddy. Give them a few days.
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DREW + 4, 12, and 23
OKAY. TUMBLR'S LETTING ME ANSWER THIS ONE NOW. hellsite. Long post. I joked about being normal and hinged on the other ask about him I answered and CONGRATS, you get unhinged and long-winded thoughts! Curse of being my friend, I'm comfortable being unwell around you and now you get a dissertation <3.
4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?
I mean, here's the thing. Literally any answer is objectively going to be hilarious. He's absurd in whatever you throw him at. Off the top of my head. Skyrim. Any romcom ever. Red Dead Redemption. Zelda. Great British Bake-Off. Like. Literally anything is really funny to imagine kdjfhskjf. Real answer, though, I think he would THRIVE as a Stardew Valley townie. That seems genuinely up his alley. Little florist's shop with a greenhouse in the back, a small-town with plenty of wilderness around to explore, and damn it now I just want to make an SDV pokeani au.
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
Long section incoming. Lol. Sorry. I have.... thoughts. A couple of 'em, even. Not adding a read-more because at this rate tumblr's gonna auto-shorten this for me.
kdjfhdskjfhdsjfhdsj. okay. You, the one asking this, already know WAY TOO MANY OF MY HEADCANONS ABOUT HIM and you are complicit in all of them lmfao. Assuming the french-canadian thing doesn't count since it's arguably canon (?), here's a potentially ~controversial~ one that literally nobody is obligated to agree with, dw, but I can back it up (sort of) (as much as you can back up ANYTHING in AG): I do not think Drew stays in coordinating in the long-term. Here's the thing. Think about episodes where he's being annoying and high-strung (/affectionate). Now, think about episodes where he seems to actually have serotonin for once. In group one, high-strung, you're going to get a lot of contest (like, contests on stage, not shorthand for shipping)/competition themed episodes. I have my... OPINIONS (/derogatory) about the Absol scene in Thinning the Hoard!, but I can use that as an example of "Well. This can't be great for his emotional wellbeing." EVIDENTLY it stresses him the fuck out. He's never more moody and stressed than he is in grand festivals/contests. But, in group two where he's actually kinda chill (albeit still himself), we have episodes where he's out doing literally anything other than coordinating- Unbeatable Lightness, WWWWW (why is he more relaxed in the episode where he drowns than the episodes where he wins ribbons?), On Cloud Arcanine. Hell, even contest episodes where he's not the one competing! He seems genuinely happier outside of contests.
This isn't even getting into my thoughts on coordinating fame and canon's portrayal of it (which is actually interesting and consistent, if unelaborated on). Some people thrive in that attention. Others won't. I think Drew genuinely loves the ART of contests. The planning of it, the technical side, working out strategies and appeals. And he's good at it. But the other parts of coordinating are things he struggles with and is uneasy with (also seen briefly in Unbeatable Lightness, A Fan With A Plan, and Spontaneous Combusken, my beloved absolute dumpster fire of an episode).
Now, it's a real shame to headcanon him as someone driven out of a career he loves by the culture of it and to just leave it on that sour note, though- so, where does he go from there? I've spoken to friends about it and there's different schools of thought about this- the one I usually lean towards personally is a career change that still allows him to partake in the parts of coordinating that he loved without the parts he hated, like becoming a mentor of sorts for new coordinators. I can see him being, like, a coordinating professor of sorts. Something that still allows the artistic expression and self-challenge, but more contained and focused specifically on the parts he loves about it. I can see him finding more satisfaction through teaching and nurturing others' talents and watching THEM go off and win rather than putting himself through it.
And obviously, his entire canon character is about how he's good at coordinating! This is maybe a weird take that sort of takes canon and does a hard pivot, so absolutely no need to agree at all, and I LOOOOVE interpretations where he stays and thrives in it! Because honestly, on a selfish note, the less he does coordinating the less I have to worry about the rules of contest appeals and battles, so. Can't say I don't have a personal stake in this. Because dear god do not make me try to understand the gen 3 anime's contest point system or lack thereof, what the FUCK.
Anyways. Thoughts. I have them. Sometimes. On occasion.
23. Favorite picture of this character?
lmao. BUT also 1.) every single face he's ever made at Harley, and 2.) every single face he makes in Unbeatable Lightness, which I think this is the third time I've mentioned it here BUT IT'S A GOOD EPISODE AND I'M NOT TAKING ALTERNATE OPINIONS ON THAT! If the sunset scene rewired my brain chemistry as a kid for probably the worse, then that's everyone else's problem and not mine. insert Taylor Swift "Drew looks-" FUCK YEAH MAN HE SURE DOES!!!!!
#non pokeani mutuals . do not worry about this. we're all really normal here :)#taylor's tag#taylor talks#drew#THANK YOU TAYLOR. taylor^2
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Well folks. No turning back now lol. I have contracted gastritis/ulcers from the stress i am feeling right now, being mentally and chronically ill, disabled, colombian, and queer, so im gonna take a break from social media for a bit. Before i go, i have a few things i would like to say: i know its hard. I know it feels hopeless. But you need to outlive dorito voldemort, please. The harm he is capable of is immense. My heart breaks for the citizens of palestine and ukraine, for arabs, for fellow transgender and queer folk, for reproductive rights, for everyone affected in any way by thr policies he intends to enact. But i need you to stay alive, hold someone's hand, tell them you love them. Find a trans person, an immigrant, hug them, protect them, and keep them safe. Please keep living. The right wants you to roll over and die. It gives them less to deal with. Please keep living, because simply being alive is a protest. Isnt that a horrible thing? Your existence is a political statement. But because it is, because it has become one, use that to your advantage. I love you. Stay alive, i beg of you. If you have the means, donate to palestinian gofundmes, donate to ACLU, donate to abortion care protectors. If you don't, sign petitions. And either way, find comfort in those around you. Everything feels so much bigger when you're alone. Stay close to your friends and loved ones. Bake cookies for your neighbors. Whatever you do, don't isolate yourself, don't kill yourself, don't harm yourself. Sorry to ramble, i have so much more i want to say but i'm exhausted and my stomach is startkng to burn again. I didnt say this half as well as i would have liked. Hopefully i got the point across. Fuck the Orange Man. Stay alive. I love you. Theres still good in the world mr. Frodo do you remember the shire mr. Frodo so do all who live to see such times etc etc. SURVIVE.
#us politics#election 2024#american politics#trans#gay#Lesbian#im scared#stay safe soldiers#Love yall
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