#and it was very obvious that he didn't see the movie

[camilledlc]

Can we talk about the fact that Deadpool is supposed to be one of the strongest character in the entire Marvel Universe?

Cause yes, for those who may not know, Wade is canonically one of the strongest character in the Marvel Universe. And why is that? Well, it is due to two things : being incredibly good at fighting, and always regenerating.

The first one seems obvious as to why that would make him extremely strong. He knows all about fighting techniques, has military experience and training, has been an accomplished mercenary for years, etc. He knows how fight. Besides, he knows multiple combat techniques and can easily switch between them, making him even more threatening.

And while the second point may seem obvious as to why it's an advantage, it is far more valuable to him than you can expect. The first advantage is obviously that he can't die. And can't be seriously injured. So he's basically unbeatable. Yeah, that's kind of a big advantage.

But it also includes other physical advantages. For example, it grants him a strength that is far superior to other people's strength. It's the same for stamina, balance, flexibility, dexterity, body control, speed, etc. That man knows how to fight, can't die, can't get severely and irreversibly injured, and he's enhanced?

And that's not all, there's more! Because of his regenerating factors, he can't be possessed of mind-controlled. Since his cells are constantly changing by dying and being renewed, his soul and mind are too inconsistent to be controlled. You can still attack him psychically, but it is extremely difficult to read his mind--even for a trained mind-reader--because of how messy and moving it is. Since it's so messy, it often confuses the mind-reader more than it helps them. Getting the right information out of his brain is near-impossible. A version of Charles Xavier even died upon entering his mind, if I'm not mistaken (I can be wrong about that, let me know if so!).

And because he's literally the best, there is still another advantage! Since his brain is so messy and constantly moving, changing, he is quite unpredictable. His opponents have an extremely hard time figuring him out, not helping by the fact that he acts dumber than he actually is. Trying to fight someone who is this good at fighting and always finds the move you didn't expect to come is quite difficult. And because he isn't just unpredictable to others but also to himself, there's no way of knowing for sure what he'll do next. If an enemy think they have figured out how he fights and what will be his strategy, he's gonna completely change it on a whim, and he himself won't see it coming!

So yeah, definitely one of the most skilled character in the entire Marvel Universe, and seeing him in an Avengers movie would be so fun.

(Also, this is very specific to Deadpool and Wolverine, but can we talk about how Cassandra Nova could somehow easily enter his brain, find the right memory and change it? So, either she is way better than what we thought, or Wade was doing particularly bad during this movie, maybe due to him just being out a slump/still feeling depressed and so his mind his less sharp than usual. What do you think?)

[endereies]

ATTRIBUTES AND QUALITIES - MS - BLURB

Pairing: bf!matt x gf!reader

Contains: The details of Matt as your boyfriend, on and off camera

Requested?: yes by @bernardsbendystraws - Request

Author's notes: This shouldn't have taken me so very long to write but neither should almost everything on my platform

Word Count: 1692

╰┈➤ SFW

༊*·˚ You both tended to avoid social situations, this included date nights

You had fixed your dress one too many times for it to slip Matt's conscience. It was adorned with two perfectly symmetrical bows which lined the skin of your shoulders. They barely reached the built in corset line, covered in a soft silk. It was so barely blue to the point where you could only see it in the dim lighting of your room. Pleats curve at your hips and flow to your knees. It was clear how much you were smitten with the fabric. Matt watched you steal glances at the mannequin poised at the front window, hence his insisted purchase.

Delicate touches, traced your hips from behind and as much as you felt unease within the situation, you melted into his touch. "Hi pretty" His voice felt so pure against your neck and you couldn't help but giggle. A few peppered kisses later, he leant back to watch the reflection of you both in the full body mirror. Knitted material covered his arms, covering sections of his darker belt. That was wrapped round his light-wash jeans that became a staple in his wardrobe.

"Hey Matt" It was a timid voice that escaped your mouth, you hadn't meant for it to. It faded into the air but when you finally looked up you were met with Matt's gaze, falling heavily on you. He smiled against your neck, allowing his breath to tickle he skin.

"You don't want to go out tonight do you..?" Guilt filled you almost instantly. You were aware that he had made reservations at this fine dining place he pointed out one late-night drive. It was a high end place but the atmosphere was one to be appreciated. Yet tonight you were dreading it.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I know you booked this fancy place but I-" His fingers quickly silenced you as he pressed them against your lips. He dryly laughed and turned your chin to face him directly. "I was hoping you'd say that..I just want to watch movies alongside you. How'd you feel with that, love?"

You sighed deeply, letting yourself relax onto him. "I'd love nothing more."

༊*·˚ He loved to make you feel safe and loved whenever he could

The last few days had been filled with thunderstorms that stretched into every evening. Tonight was no different. Several hours had gone by and nothing showed signs of the storm easing up. Clouds remained dark and your window was covered in drops of rain that sped down the glass. It wasn't that you hated the way the clouds lit up to reveal the purple hues. It was the way the thunder clapped unexpectedly that made you tense. It was deafening and not even the steady hums of your playlist could block out the sounds.

You had given up the idea of sleep and simply attempted to sleep between the duvet and pillows of your bed. Bunches of fabric were huddled near your chest and practically covered your face.

"Baby? I'm home!" Finally Matt had come home from his filming session that got cut early from the rain. They all agreed it would be better to continue when sounds of water and lightning didn't fill the mic.

He wasn't oblivious to the way thunder made you uneasy, he had seen you more than once feel uncomfortable and refuse to relax. Although never this bad.

Once he was met with silence, you heard him wonder around the house. It wasn't long before he creaked open the bedroom door. You could see the way his expression softened thanks to the bursts of light outside.

"Are you okay..?" The answer was obvious when he saw stray tears lingering on your cheeks. Rustling was quickly caused by the shaking of your head, not trusting your voice to not let you down.

He caught on your feelings instantly and slid under whatever duvet you hadn't bundled at your chest. You felt his body slide next to yours, the warmth welcoming. A sudden crash of thunder echoed through the room. Matt would be lying if he said it didn't feel good when you immediately reached out for him with closed eyes.

"You're okay baby.." Reassuring words slipped past his lips as he caressed your hair gently. "I got you."

༊*·˚ He always managed to slip your name into a conversation

Tara had thrown one of her iconic parties and as per Matt's request, you were by his side. Finally meeting some people you had dreamed of seeing for years, it was safe to say you were happy.

The whole night you were beaming alongside Matt and his friends. Dressed in a light silver dress that has small glitters embedded in the fabric, Matt could watch the way you shined forever.

"Hey baby? I'm gonna go with Nick and see Tara for a moment. I'll be back" It was hard to suppress a chuckle as his brother pretended to gag at the pet name. "Go ahead y/n."

With the lack of vibrant lighting, he easily lost you in the crowd but once he turned around he caught the eye of Jake. "Matt, didn't think you would turn up if imma be honest." His eyes took in his outfit, carefully put together. Laying on his wrist was a bracelet that caught his eye. "Woah, nice bling. How much was that?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, my girl got it for me a few weeks ago. She asked if I could wear it to match her dress tonight." A knowing smile crossed Jakes's face and a slight laughed escaped his lips. "Ahh is that so."

༊*·˚ He hates the way you think so low of yourself and would always defend against any negative thoughts you had

You had been shopping around stores on one of the rare days that Matt had no work on. You had been invited out to an event with your friends so it only seemed fitting to find a specialized outfit.

He was patiently sat outside the fitting rooms with the assortment of bags surrounding his feet. He saw a figure walk out and when he finally lifted his eyes, his jaw dropped. You were wrapped in a gorgeous red fabric that was cinched at the left side of your body. It had laid gently across your mid thigh.

You opened the curtain and revealed your outfit to Matt. "Woah.."

"I know, I'm not really a fan of it, I mean.." Your words trailed off as you looked down towards your stomach and hips.

"What are you on about? I'm obsessed with the way this looks on you, It looks even better when you feel that way too. This dress highlights your best features, baby. All of them."

You placed yourself in front of the mirror and tried to brush down any features you felt mildly uncomfortable with. Matt had come up behind you and placed his hands on your hip while resting his chin on to your bare shoulder.

"My pretty girl." He sighed into your neck and that was enough to pay for the dress with your Matt's card later.

༊*·˚ He would always pamper you whenever you felt unwell / on your period

It had been about an hour since Matt left your apartment. All you asked was that he pick up some chocolate to satiate your cravings, which had been an upset for the past six hours. The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.

Little did you know that Matt was rushing around several stores for more than your sweet treats. Any time you made a comment about something you liked, he made sure that you got it. A bouquet of your favourite flowers had ended in his basket, along with an assortment of treats, a candle with your preferred smells inside, a pink bath bomb and of course, Pads and tampons.

He hadn't meant to take so long but when you finally heard the front door of your apartment click open you were full of relief.

The gentle knocks on your bedroom door spurred you to sit up against the headboard, the hot water bottle across your midriff.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm back" His voice was meek, as if you had barely woken up.

"What took you so long, Matt? Did you get lost" A slight giggle passed your lips, met with a shake of Matt's head.

"No, baby. I just went on a little spree." That's when your jaw dropped. Finally, he pulled the bags from behind the door and placed them heavily at the end of your bed.

"So, at first, I was only going to get you the chocolates, but then I saw these Haribo's I remember you practically stole from me because they were 'too good to resist'." The bags of confectionary rustled on the blankets. "Then I saw this candle and it was blue, which grabbed my attention. Then I saw it was your favourite so of course I grabbed it. I had to get you pads and tampons. I know you alternate so I grabbed both kinds." A small pile began to form at your feet. "Oh! I also saw some fuzzy socks so they went in and i stopped at Lush to get you a bath bomb. They didn't have your normal one so i got a back up one for you!"

His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed. if they weren't already by your expression.

"Y/n..? You okay.. did i do something wrong..?" With an insistent shake of your head, you denied his words.

"You did all this for...me?" You looked up to him in mere disbelief. "Of course I did. I always will. I can tell you needed this."

"Matt...thank you.."

"You can thank me once I've run your bath, okay love?"

────────────────────˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗───────────────────

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerslover @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @sleepysturnss @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris

[gothicprep]

i can't believe that people are just now coming to the realization that hasan piker has a hamster in a wheel where his brain should be.

like all of his content isn't "um uh ummmm well um uhhh *buzzword salad*. *screaming* *punching furniture* *30 minutes of gamer chair reaction footage*"

i swear to god, the only reason he gets away with half of this is because he's handsome. if you had someone who embodied the aesthetic of a basement-dwelling reddit supermod doing this, the whole operation would be a failure to launch.

[jytan2018]

I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

[bluetimeombre]

You, Oscar and Hugh

You and Hugh have stared in the most talked about movie of the year, so, for the biggest night in Hollywood, the two of you are all people can talk about.

[based on the request for oscars night. I had so much fun writing this!!!! genuinely, how Hugh didn't even get a nomination for Logan is a crime! I'm working on another request for Logan and I've got like dozens of drafts but I loved this and wanted to get it out, I hope you enjoy!]

The Oscars- Hollwood's most prestigious event. Neither Hugh, nor you were strangers to the hall. Hugh had not only been nominated but even hosted and you had been nominated and performed.

But this was new. Both of you had worked hard for your nominations. You and Hugh had been on opposite ends, he was the X-man, the Wolverine while you had been staring in Marvel movies since the very beginning, a friendly rivalry becoming of the two of you which came to fruition when you both stared in 'Deadpool and Wolverine.'

Now, the two of you were in the drama everyone had been talking about- mainly because it featured the hollywood couple. Hugh was nominated for best supporting actor while you had a nomination for best actress in a leading rule.

The camera's flashed as Hugh walked the carpet, alone. Everyone noted that fact. They'd assumed you would be on his arm but there was no sign of you.

He followed his agent as he led him to the row of interviewer's calling his name.

'First of all, I wanted to say congratulations on your nomination, your second nomination!' said the interviewer.

Hugh was all smiles, dapper in his sleek black suit and tie. 'Thank you, man, thank you.'

'So, what's going through your head at a time like this?'

'Honestly, not a lot. There's- there's almost too much to think about that I can't think of anything at all,' he chuckled.

'Are you proud of this movie?' he asked.

'I've never been prouder of a project before, and there's so many reasons why. Maybe that's obvious,' he grinned, thinking of one reason he was incredibly happy to be celebrating this movie. 'Not only does it touch on subjects that need to be touched on more, but we had an incredible direction, an amazing writing team and the rest of the cast.'

The interviewer gave him a knowing smile. 'By cast, are we-'

He didn't even have to finish before Hugh was closing his eyes and nodding. 'Oh yeah.'

Almost as if that was a cue, the yelling and flashing of the camera's intensified as many people turned to look.

'Oh, who's here?' asked Hugh, peaking over peoples heads until he saw. 'Oh.'

You stepped out the car like a star from old hollywood as you waved at the cameras and gave them your dazzling smile. You, like him, were dressed all in sleek black, looking effortlessly beautiful as you took to the carpet.

'There she is, the woman of the hour!' cheered the interviewer.

'Of every hour,' said Hugh, the microphone just picking it up. 'Pleasure to talk to you, man.' He hardly waited for a reply before he was making his way as casually as possible across the carpet to you.

You couldn't hear anything over the yelling, or see much over the flashing lights. All you could do is pose as your agent told you to and smile at the right direction.

You were led away but heard your voice be called from a corner. With a grin, you hurried over to Guillermo, the best part of Jimmy Kimmel shows. 'Hello handsome,' you winked, joining him quickly.

'Hello!' said Guillermo. 'Do you want a shot?'

You laugh. 'Do I want a shot- what? A shot of vodka?'

'We can do vodka,' he said, already prepping the shots.

'Let's do it, why not?'

Together, you take a shot and the camera focuses on you squinting and coughing. 'That was tequila.'

'Oh, sorry.'

'No, I loved it. I love you Guillermo!' you call as you slowly walk away.

Any other celebrity might have wondered why the crowd suddenly got louder, why camera's shifted. But they would've seen Hugh approach you in long strides, would've witnessed your grin as his arms wrapped around your back, careful not to ruin your dress.

They would have wondered what he was saying to you as he held your arms, soothing his thumb over the skin. They would've seen the simmer in your eyes and the way his arm slid around your waist effortlessly. You leant into him and the two of you posed for few pictures, offering them like rare jewels.

You and Hugh had never made it official, whatever it was between the two of you. But everyone knew what it was without words. There was only one word to describe the way Hugh looked at you. But you kept it private, he was some twenty years older and not long out of a marriage. Fans had watched you go from co-stars to friends to possibly (almost definitely) lovers. And they loved any crumbs you'd offer them.

The two of you did little interviews, only really stopping to talk to Amelia Dimoldenberg.

'Wait, the two of you are each other's dates?' she gasped.

'Amelia, I literally sent you an email asking to be my date,' you said. 'I didn't get a reply.'

Hugh stood back, looking between the two of you. 'You asked her, but I asked her first.'

Eventually, the two of you made it into the hall, sitting with the rest of your cast and crew for your movie. You all get situated, smiling and greeting any other friends.

Hugh and you were sat next to each other, something every camera in the room ate up. Since the rumours had started, you'd been all the people could talk about, and they'd be making stories of this for years. They snapped every shot of Hugh watching you talk, arm around the back of your chair, smiling and brushing parts of your hair away. Or how you'd reach out to brush his jacket or straighten his tie.

You couldn't keep your hands off each other.

Finally, the event started and the camera's were zoomed in on you and Hugh, which you didn't trust.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, Hollywood's greatest please welcome your host, Hollywood's worst... Ryan Reynolds!'

Everyone cheered but you and Hugh who's jaws dropped. People laughed at your reactions as you watched him walk out on stage, no less, in an 'I am a child of divorce.' and a picture of you and Hugh at the bottom.

Ryan waved at the two of you as everyone settled. You hid your face from laughing while Hugh was glaring playfully. 'Yeah! I know right! Who's Oscar did I have to shine to get my very own hosting gig! Wasn't yours Jackman, as you've never got one, you know?'

The crowd chuckled.

'And looks like you'll be getting one for, yep, let me check, contribution. Hey, win some you lose some, Wolvie.'

You were still chuckling loudly, the camera never leaving your reactions as the actors and crew laughed at you. So, you sat through Ryan's opening monologue as he spoke about each film individually, most with jokes, and most about how he nor Dogpool were nominated.

'Now, my good friends, well, what I like to call my parents, are both nominated for their movie. Yes, applause, please, they're very fragile,' said Ryan. 'Y/n plays a strong, confident woman who is only ever knocked down by Hugh's character and charm. But enough about what they get up to in the bedroom- this film-' Ryan halted, waiting for you and Hugh to stop playfully smirking at him and for the crowd to stop chuckling. He gave it a few serious words, before letting the rest of the ceremony play out.

You and Hugh were called out several times. When Halle Berry came out to present and gave Hugh a flirtatious wink that you gave back to her, blowing her a kiss.

When your friend Emma Stone tried to get you up to dance and you had to awkwardly shake your head.

Or when Hugh took to the stage, getting ready to take over hosting and you came up to drag him off as a joke.

When best supporting actor came up, they had last years best actress winner- Emma Stone- read out the names.

Hugh smiled and clapped when appropriate, but you seemed more nervous for him. A hand on his thigh, the other biting your nails. He was holding your leg, stopping your jerking knee.

'And the winner for best supporting actor, goes to... Hugh Jackman!'

The crowd erupted, but nobody as loud as you. You were on your feet before Hugh, arms thrown in the air as you cheer and clap.

Hugh's eyes, though he knew should be on the stage, fell to you as he pulled you in for a hug.

'I'm so proud of you!' you yell into his ear.

Hugh kissed your cheek, your temple, your hair, anything he can. Still hugging you, he reaches out behind you to shake hands with the director.

You pull away, kissing the back of his hand as he kisses your cheek again before rushing up to accept the award with a grin and a pep in his step.

He hugs Emma and offers her a polite kiss before taking to the microphone. 'Thank you! Thank you very much, everyone,' he says as they slowly stop clapping. They take their seats as he catches the director handing you tissues.

Hugh reaches into his pocket, taking out a piece of paper. 'I wrote this in 2013 but never got to use it, so excuse me if I just change the title of the film,' he joked as everyone chuckled. 'First, I want to thank the academy for this award. To the director, who had such an eye for art in this film, to the amazing writers for telling a story that needs to be told and should've been told a long time ago. It is because of your amazing work I am able to stand here and take only a fraction of the credit. To my agent, who thanks for getting me this job.

'To my children, I love you so much. I hope you think dad's a little cooler now. To my mum, whom I love and know is watching this at home. And to my dad, who I miss every day but I know... I know is here,' he choaks on the words as you watch, knowing you smudged your make up. Hugh turned to look at you and not the room, smiling through tears.

'And to you, my love, my reason for everything I do. You are the real heart of this movie, and you are my heart. My one and only. This is your award as much as mine. And I am yours. I love you so much, so, so much. I could stand up here and talk for hours about how much I love you, but I won't because I want to sit where you are and watch you win yours. I love you! Thank you!'

He holds up the award and blows you a kiss before walking off the side of stage.

You knew the camera was on you as you stood up again and cheered, a tear down your cheek.

Ryan walked back out on stage, this time, dressed in a cosplay of the iconic Wolverine suit. They all laughed. 'Gee, Hugh, thanks. I-I love you to.'

There was an award or two and a break before Hugh was rushing back to you all.

You leapt in his arms as he cradled you close, handing his oscar to the director. His hands roamed your back, fingers bruising the skin there as he kissed your shoulder and neck. 'God, I can't believe it, I am so proud of you, baby.'

Hugh pulled back, looking down at you. 'I love you. I love you so much.' he pecked your head. He wouldn't kiss you, you guys had a plan for the camera's to get that.

Not long after you'd taken your seats, the nominations for best actress in a leading roll were led out by Robert Downy jr.

Hugh held onto you tightly, tighter than you had him. It wouldn't feel right if he walked home with one when you, the real star, didn't. But you couldn't care, you were more than happy to sit with Hugh for the rest of the night, for the rest of your life.

'And the oscar, goes to...' Robert trailed off, opening the envelope and taking his time. He took in a deep breath. 'Oh, my lovely dear, get up here. Y/N!'

Just as they had for Hugh, everyone around you cheers. Your first instinct is to lean forward, holding your head in your hands and hiding as Hugh hugs you, pulling your body into his and yelling in glee. Finally, you pull back and hug the director, keeping a hold on Hugh's hand, you say things to the writers before turning and throwing an arm around Hugh's neck.

You're still gripping his hand as he helps you to the stage, you trembling so much you dare not go without support. He kisses your hand and hugs you once more before leaving you to walk up the stage. The cheers grow louder as you greet Robert.

The man was like your father, after staring in how many Marvel movies together. He hugged you tightly, smiling at you and bowing to present you with the oscar.

You approached the microphone, tears in your eyes as you did and everyone clapped. You waited until you could hear a pin drop until you took a deep breath. 'This is stressful as shit,' the people laugh. 'Oh my- thank you! Everyone! Thank you Robert! To all the other amazing, talented and intelligent nominees, I give a piece of this oscar to you all cause you were all amazing, truly!' you celebrate.

'Thank you to the director, to the writers, the cast, the crew. This story meant so much to me but more to all of you and you worked incredibly hard every day, your talent aspired me to work harder and thank you cause now I got one of these,' you show them the oscar, laughing. The crowd chuckle with you.

The camera cuts to Hugh, who watches you with stars in his eyes, reflecting in a pool of his tears.

'Oh god, who else. My agent, thank you. I appreciate it. Um, thanks to me I guess for being a good actress,' you shrug as the room laughs. 'I should probably thank Ryan or he'll force Hugh to do another Wolverine. Hugh,' you focus on him as the crowd chuckles. 'I am so in love with you. I didn't think a heart was capable of beating with so much love but it does- mine does- for you. All time. I love you more than words can describe, more than the whole sky. Thank you all! Thank you!'

Just as Hugh had, you head off to the stage, taking Roberts hand as he smiles and kisses your temple before leading you off.

Backstage, you and Hugh took to doing the interview together. They clapped as you appeared, hand in hand. Both of you looked dishevelled. Your hairs messy, Hugh's collar tugged and your dress crinkled at the end. Your lipstick was smudged too but you still managed some class. While Hugh looked like he'd been laid for the first time.

Still, you held onto each other with one hand and your oscars with the other.

'Hello!' greeted Hugh.

You giggled, hiding your face as Hugh coax's you to stand up, but laughs with you.

Many serious questions were asked as you and Hugh tried your best to pay attention.

'Y/N you looked great tonight, I just want to know what was the process of getting to look so good?' a man asked.

You chuckled, thinking about it as Hugh hid his grin, watching you. 'The process was... um... I took a shower, shaved just in case, you know, I got lucky tonight,' you nudged your hips with Hugh's smirking, 'I raided my friends wardrobe, found this old thing, it fit thank god. And um, yeah?'

Hugh barked a laugh as the crowd laughed at your antics, you having to bend over to laugh with him. Finally, he straightened up, wiping tears from his eyes. 'Sorry, what a night.'

'What a night,' you agreed. 'We've been celebrating so.'

The crowd again laugh, guessing just how the two of you have been celebrating.

As best you can, you answer a couple more questions before you were swooped away to take pictures, Hugh's arm falling lower and lower down your back until it was reasting above your ass.

Some reporter wolf whistled as you guys went and Hugh gripped you, bending his head to kiss you. It wasn't how you'd planned, but he needed to kiss you. Sure, your lips had been all around him less than ten minutes ago, but it wasn't enough, was never enough.

The two of you took your pictures with best actor and supporting actress. All four of you posing together, when it came to just you and Hugh, the two of you were laughing messes as you angled your oscars to kiss like a kid would with barbies.

Then, Hugh wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and drew you in until he was kissing you, his lips moulding on yours, hand gripping you and camera's flashing.

The next day, Ryan was wearing a shirt of that iconic shot.

taglist (thank you!): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory, @wolfyychan, @chaimshelii,

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he���d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[marvelsswansong]

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

------------------------------

two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

-------------------------------

three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

-----------------------

four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

---------------------------------------

five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[d0rothydraws]

"Your eyes lit up when you seen my hand. It's dangerous to reveal what you like so easily."

content: f!reader, hand kink, blindfold, mating press, cum play, dirty talk, choking,

w/c: 3k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This is so depraved. I was messing with him last night and he said that line and then the blindfold one and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Buckle up princess

You were laying on the couch as Sylus was cleaning his gun. You were trying to read, for a change. Pick up an old hobby yadda yadda. And you were doing well, it was interesting enough until you became heavily distracted. You tried to not make it obvious. You didn't want to stare too long to catch his attention. But little did you know, you already had his attention at the first glance.

"Something on your mind, sweetie?" Sylus' voice was like ice through your veins. Invigorating but so sudden you almost flinched. "You keep staring." He said, not hiding the smirk as he continued to use the cloth to rub against his gun. The way his long fingers tensed as the gun repositioned, how his thumb brushed against the side every few minuets.

Your silence was telling as you tightened your grip on your book, readjusting your position on the couch slightly before looking back into the pages blankly. "I can see you moving your hand in my peripheral. It's distracting." You lied. His smirk grew as he leaned back slightly, his hand still lazily cleaning the weapon.

"Keep lying and you'll grow wrinkles."

"You sound like a mother." You snorted as you turned the page in an effort to act like you had been reading for the last thirty minuets.

"Fine, I would hate to distract you." He said in a mocking tone as he sat down the gun, moving to the couch as he sat on the edge. You moved your feet to his lap, stretching out on him. He moved to turn on the tv, putting on some old movie.

In a move to supposedly distract you less, you were even more distracted as his hand rested on your leg, tracing patterns and shapes idly. He could feel your leg twitch once in a while as you took a deep breath. You wondered how long you could keep up the charade.

"You haven't turned the page in 20 minutes." He said, glancing at you as he met your eyes over the book. "I'll tell you what. You tell me what's on your mind, and I won't bully you for it. Deal?" He said with a half laugh, those damn fingers still trailing the inside of your leg.

"I somehow don't believe you." You mutter before finally closing the book and setting it aside. Your eye glanced at his hand for a second too long before a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Your eyes lit up when you seen my hand. It's dangerous to reveal what you like so easily." His voice had a playful tone to it, his eyes locking on yours. "Anything to say for yourself, kitten?"

"Can you blame me? You have nice hands," You said bluntly, sitting up against the arm of the couch as you crossed your arms. Sylus, not expecting you to be so casual about it, had the faintest look of surprise in his eye before his normal smug look returning.

"So you have a thing for my hands, hm?" He said "Why don't we take this a step further." He said before standing, holding a hand out to you. You felt your heart in your throat as you took his hand in yours letting him lead you to the bedroom.

"Sit. I'm going to look for something. But while I'm gone, undress." He said sternly with a smirk on his face, drawing out the last word. You obliged, not knowing what he was planning but you knew it would be worth it. It's always worth it when it him.

As he returned he was holding a thick silk ribbon. His eyes looked over your naked body as if you were his prey before stopping in front of you. His hand moved to cup your chin, making you look up at him. You shivered as you felt the ribbon tickle your neck.

"Very good kitten, you can follow simple instructions. I'm proud of you." He said in a sarcastic tone that made your cheeks burn. "Since you love my hands so much, we're going to heighten your senses so you can feel exactly what they're going to do to you."

As he moved the silk around your eyes, darkness enveloped your sight. In moments, you understood what he meant. His scent was stronger. The sound of his voice stronger. His touch..

You felt as he guided you to lay on the bed, the mattress soft around your body as you sighed slightly. The sound of familiar clothes falling made your ears perk as you tried to listen to where he was. Soon there was no question as you felt the bed dip, the brush of his leg against yours. He was over you, you could tell by how strong his scent was. How heat practically radiated from him with each arms on the side of your body holding him above you as his lips moved to your ear.

"Can you feel it? This is only the beginning." He whispered as his lips moved over your shoulder. Hands moved to brush hair out of your face, cupping your cheek. The moment was fleeting as his hand went southward, cupping your breast.

You knew his hands well, but feeling them like this was a different experience. His hands were rough, the mark of his life long fight for survival. His decades of using weapons, fighting. You could feel every callous in his fingertips as they sunk into the soft flesh of your chest. His hands were massive, everything about him was big but it was even more noticeable when you could only go off feeling.

Your eyes widened under the silk band, still as dark as ever as you felt his tongue against your other breast. Your mouth opened in a gasp as your nipple was brought past his teeth, pulling gently at the nub that hardened instantly. As his hand bounced and felt up your one breast, his lips and mouth worked the other. Every touch, kiss, bite, it sent pleasure through your body. You felt as if your body was in an abyss, only able to feel and hear him.

You didn't know how long passed. Time didn't exist anymore. He pulled back his lips, your nipple stretching slightly before he released you from his mouth. His hands moved lower, thumbs brushing the curve of your ribcage as he looked down at you, enjoying the look of your parted lips, the way your cheeks burned under the blindfold.

One hand rested on the curve of your waist as you felt the other one move back up, drawing fingers over the length of your neck as if he knew the answer to his next question.

"Tell me, kitten." He said, his voice next to your ear suddenly making your breath catch. His words echoing in the abyss of your mind. "Where do you want my hands next?" He knew the answer. But he wanted to hear you say it. Hear the breathiness in your voice as you responded.

"My neck." You breathed, your own voice sounding so loud in your head. "I want to feel them on my neck." You couldn't stop the shakiness of your words, how needy you sounded. Your mouth was watering and yet felt so dry at the same time.

"Good kitten." He purred, the sound moving down your spine as your felt both of his hands graze your neck. His thumbs brushed the pulse point, his fingers circling gently around the entirety of your neck. "Your heart is beating so fast for me." He whispered as he gently applied pressure. The palms of his hand pressing just right into your neck.

One of his hands moved from your neck, thumb trailing your chin as the other repositioned to continue to apply pressure. He was always careful to not hurt you. Especially when dealing with such a vital part of your being. His thumb pressed against the bottom of your lip, your mouth opening slightly as a reaction. One that he was very pleased with.

Sylus' hand on your neck held you with a firm grip, feeling your pulse against his fingers as your breath started to strain. And even as you began to struggle to breathe, you flicked your tongue out over the thumb at the edge of your lips. You heard him take a sharp breath before pushing his thumb against your tongue. His grip on your neck released slowly, the oxygen entering your lungs almost hurt as you took a deep breath before pulling his fingers deeper into your mouth.

"Want a taste?" He said as he felt your tongue brush against his fingers. His eyes watched your lips as his fingers disappeared past your lips. Your teeth grazed his rough skin, making him groan softly.

His legs pushed your knees apart as his other hand trailed down your stomach and past your hips. You moan was muffled by his hand as his fingers suddenly pressed against your sex, your back arching into him as your mouth opened more. You could hear how wet you had become just from the touches he had given you. Your body welcomed his fingers as two entered you, your moans growing louder as his hand moved out of your mouth. His now wet fingers trailing down your chin, past your neck and to your chest again leaving a trail that made you shiver.

"Maybe I should keep you like this." He breathed, voice growing huskier as he watched you wither under him. Clenching around his fingers as he moved them slow. He wanted you to feel every curve, every inch of his fingers inside you. And as his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad adding much wanted stimulation, you cried out, head arching back. As you felt your body start to reach it's peak, the movement stopped and suddenly you were empty. You whined, gasping as you started to sit up in protest when he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your hand with one hand.

"I'm not done with you yet, sweetie." He said, his lips brushing over yours, breath hot against your mouth as his hand flexed against your wrists. You felt the wetness of the other hand trail down the insides of your thighs making your legs shake. His kiss was deep, stealing the breath from your lungs. Teeth pulled at your lip before his tongue moved against yours. You kissed back just as eagerly as you arched against his hold on you, moaning as you felt him only just push you back down onto the bed.

His fingers pushed back inside you, his kisses was getting hungrier as you moved your hips against his hand. He pulled back with a growl, panting softly. "That's it kitten. Fuck the hand you love so much. Tell me sweetie, how often do you think about them?"

Your moan echoed as you felt his fingers curl, a third finger making you arch against him as you felt yourself stretch around the thick fingers.

"Every day." You answered, your voice sounded foreign to your ears. Your head turned as you moaned crying out as he stopped moving his fingers making you thrust yourself against them. "Especially when you wear rings. Or use your gun." His teeth nipped at your ear as his knees spread your legs farther apart as you fucked yourself on his fingers. You were close again. And you were praying to any god that would listen that he would let you cum.

None of them answered though as his hand pulled away again. Frustration was beginning to build as you cried out, whimpering as you tried to follow his hand with your hips, feeling so empty without him inside you.

"You've been doing so good kitten. Don't misbehave now." He teased with a soft chuckle as you found the hand on your lips. You could smell your own scent as you coated his fingers that pushed into your mouth. You moaned around him, your own taste making you blush. "Maybe I should let you pick out some rings for me, then. Or perhaps a new pair of gloves. I notice you tend to blush when I wear the leather ones." He said, his voice tense as you cleaned his fingers.

Distracted by the feeling of your own taste, fingers in your mouth, lips on your ear and hands still pinned above your head, you failed to register the feeling of his cock against your thigh. Not until you felt him begin to enter you, your body feeling like it was being shocked with electricity as you heard his groan against your ear. His hand left your mouth, trailing down again to your throat as he once again wrapped around you but didn't apply pressure. Not yet.

He let you feel every inch of him as he pushed his hips deeper and deeper. His cock stretching you out as your legs shook. You felt him throb inside you, twitch as you clenched around him. And then, as he started to slowly thrust, his hips moving slowly as the room filled with the sound of sex, then he applied that much craved pressure.

Every pore, every atom in your body craved him. He wasn't a want. He was a need. As he pulled out, before he could thrust back in you moved your legs, using your body to gain momentum as you slid down the bed a few inches. catching him off guard, his hand holding your wrists loosened as you forced him deeper into you. Putting yourself at an angle where your legs were nearly above your head, yourself on display. You heard a breathy groan, his breath becoming heavy, strained as the hand on your throat tightened.

"Fuck." He whispered, thrusting back into you. A hand moved to the back of your thigh, pushing your legs farther as he started to fuck you harder. "You're a slut, you know that?" He growled, his hand moving from your throat to your chin as he kissed you roughly, the angle pinning you to the bed completely as he fucked you as deep as he could.

Your body twitched as you screamed in pleasure against the kiss. Your entire body swam with pleasure as you felt him fuck into you as if his life depended on it. His thrusts started to become uneven, his moans heavier as he broke the kiss, biting your lip before he pulled away.

"I'm going to fill you up, sweetie. That's what you want, isn't it?" He said, moaning into your neck. "Then I'm going to make you fuck my hand again."

His words pushed you over the edge as you cried out, your body shaking as you felt yourself clench around him as you released, the coil growing in your core snapping. Sylus moaned, feeling you clamp around him which in turn made him cum deep inside you. He fucked you through both of your orgasms, your legs going numb as you moaned and twitched, your hand curling in his hair as you pulled him into a needy kiss.

Slowly he pulled out, breaking the kiss as he watched as his cum leaked out of you. He continued to hold your legs over your head as like he promised, his fingers entered you, pushing his cum back inside with a thick wet sound. You moaned, gasping. He let your hands moved over his body, hearing your moan as you blindly touched his arms, palms moving over his biceps. Moving to his chest your nails and fingers touched him making him moan faintly. You felt your pussy clamp around his fingers, you felt his cum ooze out of you more as he growled softly.

"Keep doing that and I'll have to fill you up again." He growled and you whimpered gasping. Your breath heavy as you felt your body overwhelmed by sensations. His thumb pushed against your clit, his fingers curling inside you as you were spiraled into another orgasm.

Your body arched off the bed as you cried out his name, body shaking as the wave crashed over you. His hand didn't stop, continuing until you were done twitching before he pulled his hand away, slowly helping you put your legs back down on the bed. He pulled you close against him, his fingers once again at your lips as you cleaned the mixture of fluids off of his hand for one last time.

"Keep your eyes closed, let your eyes adjust first." He said softly as he reached to untie the blindfold slowly. His voice warm like a blanket over your numb body. As the silk fell you could see the reflection of oranges and shadows against the inside of your eyelids. You slowly blinked your eyes open, quickly finding his looking down at you. Such a warm expression compared to the things he just did to you.

His lips gently pressed against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing against your lip. As he pulled away his nose brushed against yours, looking into your eyes.

"Later, feel free to use my card to buy some new rings for me. I do quite like your taste." He said as he watched you blush and then he chuckled. "Oh, you thought I was kidding? No, sweetie. I want to give you even more of a reason to be captivated by my hands."

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

what about edging eddie everytime he comes over to visit you? Grinding or sucking him off only to stop right before he comes every single time.

The way this has been SITTING in my ask box since August :(( I'm sorry. 💕🩷

Can this be bestfriend!Eddie? Because it screams best friend eddie.

The thought of edging Eddie just does something to me. He'd be so whiny about it too whispering to make him cum but you won't and he knows it too. His soft needy cries with that deep voice as your tongue teases his leaking tip. He gets so frustrated when he's about to spill his cum in the back of your throat but you pull him out everytime

Besfriend!Eddie munson x fem!reader

Not proofread.

Your friendship with Eddie was very special. You did everything together. Even fooled around when you got lonely or drunk. You had an agreement of "as long as everything is above the waist," it's okay. Sometimes, things did eventually happen.

You and him didn't date much, so you ended up learning how to give a blow job from him. You taught him how to eat pussy. You practiced on one another. You felt like it was only right to get some experience in for whenever someone asked either one of you out.

That's just how close you two were. It never felt weird or awkward, either. But those type moments only happened once you never spoke of them again. You just heavily made out a lot and did some heavy petting.

Not that you didn't enjoy feeling each other. You most definitely did. You guys felt kinda bad about not having much experience being your early twenties. At least you have one another he'd always reassured. Deep down, Eddie always wanted to make you his.

Now he likes to come over to your place on the weekends to watch a movie and eat junk food. Usually, he brings pizza and rents a terrible b-horror flick from family video.

A loud kick to your door startles you at, and you walk over to look out the peephole.

"Pizza is here, sweetheart." Eddie greeted you with a big smile as you answered your door. That smile soon faltered when he noticed what you were wearing.

You never cared if Eddie saw you naked. You've seen him naked plenty of times when he was drunk off his ass and needed a shower. You opened the door in nothing but a thin tank top and panties that hugged your ass just right. He immediately gulped at the sight.

"It's about time Munson what movie did you pick." You giggled taking the food from his hands.

He clears his throat. "Oh, uhhhhhh, Slumber party massacre." He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to avoid looking so flustered.

"Slumber pary massacre--the movie with the chicks in lingerie getting slaughtered?" You eyed him and got plates ready for the pizza.

"Not surprised that's the movie you'd pick."

You don't really notice how he's looking at you. You're too focused getting the food ready for you and him to eat. You moved around your apartment, and his eyes followed your every step.

Eddie couldn't stop staring at you. His eyes fixed on the curve of your ass and the way your nipples were poking through the material of your shirt. He tries to discreetly readjust himself, so you see the obvious growing buldge in his jeans.

"Yeah, well, we've watched everything else in that video store." Eddie looked down at his feet with his hands in his pockets.

His cock was throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. He stood there by the door, not moving a muscle. He thought if he didn't move, you'd forget he was even there.

"Hey Eddie." You called out softly to him.

His head perks up and his eyes meet yours. "W-whats up?"

"Come sit with me." You pat the empty spot next to you on the couch.

The pizza and drinks were already laid out and ready to eat. Eddie couldn't focus on anything but you. His mind races at all the possibilities of taking you right there on the couch. Your pussy getting split open around his cock. Your cute, soft little moans in his ear. Your juices dripping down your thighs while he fucked you roughly in your living room. Your poor neighbors hearing your cries of pleasure.

The movie was playing, but he has no idea what's even happening or cares for that matter. His eyes kept glancing over at you. You're sitting with your legs criss-cross while eating your third slice of pizza. He had one foot propped up on your coffee table as he licked his lips watching you.

Your eyes focus on the shitty movie he rented. You were right he did pick this out to watch half-naked women run around in the skimpiest lingerie. The killer having a guitar as a weapon now makes perfect sense now, too. Truthfully. It was the closest thing to porn Eddie could get you to watch with him. He was a bit of perv, and he'll admit that.

He eyes keep wandering over to your figure from the swell of your breasts down to your thighs. His head leaned forward to get a tiny glimpse of what's between your legs. Your underwear doing you no justice in covering much of anything at all. He smiled to himself. his mouth watered, remembering the night he tasted you.

You could feel his eyes on you practically all night long. He was acting a little funny the second he walked through the front door. You chalked it up to him working too much and needing some rest. You tried to ignore his lingering stare. You just couldn't any longer.

"You okay?" You looked over at him. You noticed he hasn't eaten one single slice of pizza. "You seem a little...antsy I guess."

He coughed and tried to play it cool. "Me? No, no, I'm fine."

You squinted at him. "I don't believe you."

"Alright, fine." He threw his back and groaned. "it's you."

"Me?" You asked, confused. "What about me?"

"It's....you. it's always you. You always make me so hot and I feel like anytime I'm around you I can't even fucking think straight." Eddie confessed. He was speaking so fast that you barely had time to register what he was saying.

You sit there quietly, not saying a word yet. You don't want to misinterpret what he's trying to tell you. even though you have a pretty good idea of what it's about.

"I--look. Listen--Touch me. Please. We don't have to have sex. Just touch me. Make me beg. I don't even have to cum. I just need to feel you." He voice sounded so desperate.

His eyes looked into yours, and you couldn't deny him. His brown eyes are looking deep into yours. You nod and move to sit in his lap with your back against his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. Your ass pressing right up against his cock. You could feel just how hard he is.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" You whispered.

"Didn't want to make shit uncomfortable." His voice muffled as he peppered light kisses on your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed when his soft lips touch your skin. "You'd never make me uncomfortable we've done lots of things together before."

"I know I just never want you to feel like I'm using you." Eddie leaves a trail of wet kisses from your neck and down to your shoulder. You moved your head back to give him better access.

His hips lift slightly to rub up into your ass. He cursed under his breath, and your hands went down to grip on his thighs

"Fuck sweetheart grind on me." He said breathlessly.

You nod and move your hips back and forth in his lap. Your ass rubbing on his cock over his jeans. His arms wrapping around you tighter as he buries his face in your neck.

"That's it, sweetheart grind that cute ass on me." Eddie grunted and bucked up his hips for some added friction.

You pressed down harder on his cock. Your hips swiveling in a circular motion. He's whimpering in your ear. His legs bounce up and down while you grind on him. You dig your nails into his thighs to hold on tight.

"Fuck please---id do anything for you sweetheart. Anything." Eddie rasped in your ear. "You can have my cock whenever you want it."

"You think I could take it?" You teased and pushed your ass on him hard, making him jerk.

"Baby ill make sure you can take it. Y-you're such a good girl." He groaned and grinded himself up against your ass.

You continued moving back and forth on his cock. You could feel his breathing quickening just by how his chest pressed into your back.

"I know how messy you can get. Thinking about having you squirting all over me." His voice is shakey as your hips switch to moving back in a circular motion again.

You whimper at his words and feel yourself growing wetter. Your panties are completely soaked through. His voice is trembling, and his arms are constricting around you. There is a small wet patch forming on his jeans from the mess you've created in your panties and his precum.

"Mmm, I'm so close." He moans, and you slow down.

You stopped your movements for a few seconds, and Eddie whines. He swallows and tries to control himself.

After a few more minutes, you start moving. His cock is so sensitive and begging for release. He needs to cum so bad but loves the feeling of you edging him. The feeling of getting so close only for you to stop is driving him crazy.

You speed up and your ass grinds down on his cock. Your pace went from fast to slow anytime he got close again. You kept getting him close to the edge only to stop or slow down. it was almost too painful for him to keep going but liked it. His face is covered in sweat.

"let me cum." Eddie beggee and bit down on your shoulder. You whimpered from the pain.

Shaking your head no and grind your ass down on his cock. The material of his boxers scratched against him. He was becoming needy for you the more you teased him.

"Fuck please let me cum baby---please." He kept begging. Your pussy was aching for some type of relief. His breath tickled your throat while he spoke. "Shit I'm gonna cum."

"Oh," your eyebrows shoot up, and you stop. You moved his arms from around your waist and went to sick back down in your spot.

"I-i thought." He swallows and sinks back. His legs spread wide open. The look he gave you almost made you feel guilty for stopping.

You could see that wet patch on his lap that's much more noticeable than you thought. His painfully hard cock straining against his pants.

"You said you didn't have to cum. Remember?" You teased and went back to watching the movie.

Eddie smirked and moved to scoot closer to you." If I make you cum around my fingers will you let make me cum?" He whispered seductively.

"Maybe... we'll see how good you make me feel first."

[sanjisboyfie]

golden retriever boyfriend ! itadori yuji

yuji x male reader

-> very short but i wanted to show smoe love to this cutie wootie patootie.

- oh my fucking god. the absolute sweetest boyfriend i fear. this guy literally praises the ground that you walk on and is at your beck and call as if you were a deity and he is your servant. your day is just him constantly asking if he can do anything for you to make you happier, usually the response is just his company, which he blushes and playfully smacks you for.

"honey, do you wanna go to the store to buy some more snacks before we binge watch?" yuji asked, a wide grin on his face, "gojo-sensei forgot to take back his wallet he leant me from my last mission, so we can splurge and he won't even notice!"

you laughed at his eagerness, but shook your head. instead, you opened your arms up for him to cuddle himself into and said, "i just want to spend some time with you, i missed you,"

without wasting another second, yuji jumped into your arms and peppered kisses all over your neck, jaw, and face, "i missed you even moreee!! let's turn on your show already, then," yuji contentedly closed his eyes, breathing in your scent as his cheek was pressed against your chest.

he was in heaven.

- constantly thinking of you. he's always seeing things on the street that remind him of you, always wondering if you'd like something he picked out for you from a street vendor, will constantly be talking nobara and megumi's ear off about, "oh, [name] really likes that restaurant! should i buy him something to go?" "haha, me and [name] watched that movie last night and he really liked the main character's best friend, even though i liked the main character more!" "nobara, do you think [name] is more handsome wearing a bracelet or necklace? huh? well, i think he lookes handsome either way, but i don't have money for both so i need someone unbiased to choose."

they think they've heard enough, but they very clearly haven't since yuji always goes above and beyond in talking about you.

you're there to hear the praises he sings for you 50% of the time, but the other 50%...poor nobara and megumi because they gotta deal with his yappin ass. he never shuts up in general (he's just a bby) but when he gets on a tangent talking about you ... it's like this guy doesn't need to breathe.

he's just so happy and content with the relationship you guys have he can't help but make it known to everyone around!!! another thing is he could care less if it annoys the fuck out of everyone around him, he just nods his head at their annoyance and then goes, "well, anyway, haha, as i was saying before i was interuppted!"

literally inumaki probably has had to restraint himself from telling yuji to "shut the fuck up" because he just wouldn't shut up.

- yuji likes to make it obvious to you how loyal of a boyfriend he is. he barely glances at other people on the street if he's with you. he has actual hearts in his eyes when he even sees you in his periphereals, if you are right in front of him, dear lord save him.

the two of you were walking down the street to the conveince store. your pinkies were linked together as yuji listened to you talk about your day and the training you had to do. at one point you were complaining about gojo's antics as an irresponsible teacher and yuji couldn't help but think how adorable that annoyed look on your face was.

the pout on your lips, even you rolling your eyes was so attractive to him. he was enthralled by your story and, of course, you, he didn't even realize that he walked right into the clear glass door of the store.

as he face planted staight into the wall, you immediately are fussing over if he is alright. he turns to you with a grin, nodding his head to show he was fine. but the smallest drop of blood coming from his nose said otherwise.

and as you fretted over his very minor injury, he couldn't help but sigh in content as he thought you tending to him was the most heartwarming thing he has ever experienced.

"you'd be a great nurse, [name]," he says, not minding the subtle glare you threw at him, "your hands are so soft and gentle-"

"they're about to smack you if you don't shut up," you gruffly replied, but yuji wasn't deterred at all in singing your praises even more.

"you're so kind to me," he says with a dreamy look in his eyes.

once again, you sighed heavily at your boyfriend's attitude, pinching his ear, "quit it, yuji! what if you actually got hurt, you're lucky it was just a rush of blood. you need to be more focused, especially if we're gonna be out there fighting curses,"

yuji, unfortunately, doesn't take any of your warnings seriously. as he presses his cheek to the palm of his hand, he just stares at you lovingly, "what do you think? should we buy you a cute little nurse outfit and i can be your sick patient? you'd look so handsome in scrubs!"

another pinch to his ear, "yuji! are you even listening?!"

- has this really adorable habit of just getting lost in whatever you're saying and blinking owlishly at you with a very cute smile on his face. it's a really adorable sight, but when you're actually trying to tell him something, he's just looking at you like ":3" and not at all listening to what you're saying.

"gojo-sensei said to be extra careful because the blades were just sharpened, alright?" you advised, looking at the myriad of cursed tools that you were going to be training with. "hm, what do you think suits your fighting style more, babe?"

yuji only tightened his grip around your waist, burying his face into your neck as he was just too focused on your body against his to even begin formulating an answer to your question. even though it was a fairly easy question to answer.

"itadori yuji," you warn, sensing that he was spacing out once again.

"noooo," he whines, squeezing you tight, "'m your baby, not itadori yuji," he complains, exaggerating his name as if it were the worst sound in the world.

"well, you're going to stay itadori yuji until you answer my question," you say, wondering why you had to disclipline your boyfriend as if he were your child. you soften up though when you hear him whine once again, burying his head deeper into your neck.

ruffling his hair as a way of comforting him, ultimately caving in to his whines and attitude, you softly say, "baby, can you just help me out really quick?"

"kisses after i do?"

"of course,"

yuji is grinning like a fool and is suddenly very intrigued in the conversation on what curse tool works best with his fighting style.

GIVE ME ITADORI YUJI AS MY BOYFRIEND and id treat him like a king, thats all im saying. he deserves so much love, please.

[ja3yun]

i'm so curious to know what kind of boyfriend you think jake would be?

oh baby i have thought about this every day for a long ass time, so buckle up! (also some smut so mdni!!!)

sunghoon vers. | heeseung vers. | jay vers.

okay so first and foremost, i think yes, he is clingy, but controversially i believe he keeps his cool at the begining of a relationship. when you go on dates with him in the first 1-2 months he is out to impress you and although he's still super sweet and caring, he would make sure you're vibing in the same we he is, getting to know you and your personality so he can judge how to approach it, especially if he really, really likes you. once he knows you both connect well enough, i think that is when he goes into the puppy mode that we all know and adore about him.

after you guys are together, or at least exclusive, he would be so touchy but in such a 'i just like to have contact with you' way. so if you are walking he would grab your hand loosely or if someone was coming in the other direction, he would kinda place his hand on your back or arm to guide you out the way. sometimes he won't do it intentionally, he just subconsciously loves skin-to-skin contact.

cuddles! loves them, can't get enough and i don't think he would care who cuddles who, he just loves it (again, back to the skinship thing). he would hug you from behind, on the couch, lay his head on your lap, if you'r in bed i think he either has you lay ontop of him or vice versa while you watch a movie, if you sleep, he will have a leg or arm drapped over you like he starfishes the bed etc etc. physical touch is absolutely a love language of his.

quality time is another way he expresses love. he might not get to see you often between work etc. but he will always make time, even if its coming over to yours for dinner, even if he can't spend the night, he will make sure he is a presence in your life. he is with another member or his family a lot, so i do think he loves being in the company of others even if you do nothing but scroll through youtube videos together and sit in silence, he appreciates you just simply beside him. he would also just love doing mundane things with you, like shopping for groceries or getting a midnight snack when you both can't sleep. he just loves being around you any chance he gets, he would be w someone he is super comfortable with, like a best friend, so you would do everything and nothing together when you had the time.

more under cut

he doesn't love bomb but he loves hard like, he would fall in love at a nice pace, each day of texting and dates you would get closer and closer and then boom! he realises he is in love and that would be it for him. jaeyun would show you love in both subtle and obvious ways, kisses, cuddles, running errands without being asked, picking up your favourite snack when he's going to see you later, carrying a hair tie or lip bam in his pocket in case you forget yours, buying cologne that you like and wearing it exclusively when you're around, etc. this doesn't mean he can't be very dense sometimes! he is still a man after all and he's going to miss your signals. it's an endearing trait so you never get mad but i think you could say smthn to him, dropping hints about wanting to go on a trip or smthn and he would not pick up on that, instead accidently focus on the wrong part of your sentence: example, 'i think jeju would be fun, i've always wanted to go orange picking' and he would come home with a carton of oranges and be so proud of himself lmaoo

you need to get along with his family and friends, no doubt about it. he will make it such a bit deal and then tell you 'no pressure' lmao, but he seriously wouldn't introduce you if he didn't think they would like you. his mum (and riki/hee tbh) are who you need to get approval from, he values them so dearly that he would ask them thoughts. because he is a mums boy, she's gonna be a bit jarring at first bc thats her baby but eh, if you're nice and treat him well you'll be grand. once you get the go ahead, he's gonna take you to EVERY family outing, or at least invite you, you'll become part of his family so easily because he wont give you the chance not to.

so funny!! will make you laugh even unintentionally but will get pouty if you laugh a little too hard at him, esp if he makes a mistake or says something dumb. he doesn't want his ego bruised but he can take a laugh. texts memes and jokes to you, yapping 247 and making it so easy to fall in love with him.

it's going to be an up and down relationship, arguements, quiet nights, blow outs, passionate love, you are never going to have a straight forward relationship. he is hot headed but it just means he cares, and sometimes you aren't going to see eye to eye but i don't think that is a bad thing. with each fight and make up comes a stronger connection and deeper understanding, which is only going to make his soul attach to yours on a much deeper and intimate level than if it was a cutiful relationship w rainbows and kitten kisses. he loves to communicate but only after he has had a strop and a huff first lmaoo

i'm sorry to say this but you and his job are far apart. he keeps everything seperate, so that means no backstage or taking you on tour. you're going to be a secret for a LONG time (public wise). i think jaeyun would value the idea that he could be normal with you, like he's jake sim on stage but when he comes home to you, he just wants to be sim jaeyun. he will speak about work with you but it won't be all you talk about, he'll talk about it the same way he would if he worked in a supermarket; tell you the drama, key notes, who argued w who blah blah. but once its out his system, he'll leave it there. jaeyun is so down to earth and humble that being a celebrity would come second to being your boyfrjend when you're together.

kisses!!! loves them, he doesn't have those beautiful, plump lips for nothing, he is going to use them - on your lips, cheek, forehead, neck, anywhere he can plant a peck, he will. he's a pepper kisser, meaning he does quick bursts in a short amount of time, smooching you until you giggle and push him away. he appreciates the innocence of kisses and how it's just a lovely way to punctuate his love for you. he doesn't care if people are around but i think he respects a group environment enough to not be necking you at the dinner table, instead, he kisses your knuckles while you speak or place a kiss on the top of your head when he leaves to go to the bathroom.

making out is a different story though, when you're alone and he gets horny (which is a lot), he would devour you, causing you to lose your breath quickly because he's sucking the air fom your lungs out of pure heat. he starts slow, lips covering yours and staying there for a while longer than needed, then he would sweep his tongue into your mouth. i think he kisses in two ways: messily, where he just can't get enough of you and it gets a little desperate and saliva-y, and also delicately, his tongue brushing over yours smoothly while his hand softly feels your skin under his. he loves kisses in any form, i do think he is more a smoocher though (sorry tongue jaeyun lovers). w his tongue being a focal point of his stage presence, you think i would say the opposite but idk. when he makes out w you though, you're gonna literally be there for HOURS.

bowchikawowow: now, he has a high sex drive but that doesn't mean he's fucking you everywhere and anywhere, he loves a quicky, of course he does but if he can, he'll wait until you get home and fuck you so good. he is sensual and i think he values passionate, intimate sex a lot of the time, but on occasion, he'll be so horny that he just fucks you into the mattress without a second thought, cumming being his only goal. he can go a long time but oral will take up a massive chunk of your night. if you follow me, you will know i am a MASSIVE jake muncher proclaimer, he loves to eat you out; this is where is tongue becomes the vip. he's a devourer, loves to lap you up and hear you moan his name. i think he has a bit of an ego (in a good way!!!) and hearing you call out his name is gonna make him want to go on forever. he likes it raw, no question but i don't think he has the willpower to pull out every single time, so he's either going to go for ultra thin condoms, or you will both discuss birth control options (if men could get the pill, he would take it).

loves to cum inside though, the feeling is sensational. he loves to see it drip out of you, i think part of being a bit clingy comes a smidge lots of possessive qualities and this is one of them, seeing his claim on you, knowing that it's him that gets to see you this vulnerable and stuffed. he wouldn't be a plugger i don't imagine, rather just enjoys the view of your pussy absolutely covered in his essence.

aftercare i think is a hit or miss, he either goes all prince charming, or he's too far gone in his own pleasure to care. he'll ask if you're okay and if you enjoyed it (every time lmao) but he wouldn't be running your bath or whatever. his aftercare is more kisses and cuddles, showing you how much he appreciates and loves you. skin-to-skin after sex is a must! he's going to cuddle into you and whisper how much he loves you (and your body) which can sometimes lead to another round depending on how tired he js.

bedtime is for pillowtalk, asking the most random questions, and confessions. he's a senstive soul even id he doesn't show it all the time and a little vulnerable so when it gets dark and you're surrounded by silence, his mind will have time to think. he trusts you completely, especially a few years in, you're his confidant and lover, there isn't a worry or thought he won't share with you no matter how small. he values your opinion and your heart so if he is having a hard time, he's laying his feeling out to you in the cover of night. if you act uninterested, he will close off and not mention some aspects of his life again so it would be important to really listen and understand him (as he would with you)

he is going to love you like it's the easiest and hardest thing in the world, the relationship will never be boring and you will find a lover and friend in him <3

i went too far w this but i have so many thought about him and this 😭 it might not be accurate, i mean, i dont know the man but these are my opinions!

[hyunjinsjeans]

He knows (Chan ver.)

Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Chan is your husband and he knows you want to start a family, but how does he know? And what happens when he tells you he knows? This. This is what happens.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 1140

AN: this is my first piece of writing for anything K-pop-related on this site, please be kind! No proofreading, sorry!

You are married to this man. He defines himself by his job. He lived for it though, after working so hard to get to where he is he also enjoys it so much. So you can’t complain. But he does have one more thing he wants on his instagram bio. So far he is producer, singer, rapper and dancer. As of a year ago he is also husband. He knows the time is right. He knows you don’t want to pressure him but whenever you’re together he can sense the unspoken words flying around in the air between the two of you.

Oh yes, Chan knows. He knows how to read people, and you are top of the list of his favorite ones. He will read you like a book. He will understand even the things you don’t say, he will know the second you are ready. He will, however, wait for the right moment. Sometime when he knows he will have the energy, the free time and the emotional availability to do it.

He owes you his full attention if you are doing this together.

And once he seizes the opportunity he is going in for the kill. He proposes it in a serious tone. If it asn’t just the two of you, it would seem you were having a “family meeting”. He is straightforward about it.

“We should have a kid, Y/N. I think it’s time, I’m ready and you’re ready.”

And the words get caught in your throat because what the hell? You were incredibly ready. He knew this, you knew this. Your friends probably knew this.

From the way you cooed at any and every child under 5 whenever you spotted one, how little kids gravitated toward you at the park or at the movies and you always had a kind smile to offer them along with the helping hand finding their parents, to the way you seemed to constantly be handed strangers' babies at the grocery store or at airport lines.

It was no news. You always loved kids and after getting married and moving to your own home, you made it a point to have a guest room and an empty room. Chan had noticed. Why leave a room completely empty? “Just in case we need it someday” you had shrugged when he asked. But it was painfully obvious a few months into the move that you visited that room and stared at the empty walls with bright shiny eyes, with a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips in a way so subtle it was almost imperceptible, you always left the room with a sigh and a bowed head as if ashamed to have the plans you had for that room. Chan had witnessed it enough times to have you figured out. It brought a warmth to his heart, seeing how eager you were about the subject and yet you kept quiet because you didn't want to put any pressure on him, thinking he already had a lot to deal with as the leader of a very successful group.

So of course, the second he said those words you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh I was waiting for you to be ready!”

Chan lets out a joyful laugh, his eyes become tiny as his cheeks grow puffy with the glee in his reaction.

“I know!” He exhales, “but you didn’t say anything and I’m tired of it. When you want something -anything, please just tell me!” His expression softened "I'll always have time to listen to you, and there's nothing you can ask of me that I wouldn't give you."

He is leaning on the kitchen table while you’re sitting opposite him. You push yourself back on your chair and look at him with a side smile on your face, the rice cooker making its beeping sound to signal dinner is ready.

“How am I supposed to drop that one on you?!” You laugh as well, it’s clear you are not really arguing “Am I supposed to say “hey Chan, I want a baby” or what?”

“Well… yeah.” He scratches at his neck, “that’s okay, it’s a good way to start talking about it.”

You huff and look away, but ultimately you are pretty happy he brought it up. He knows this as well; there is no hiding your enthusiasm, you're practically buzzing.

“I do want to have a baby, Chan” you lean forward on the table, your elbows on the hard surface while you hide your smile behind your hands.

Chan sighs, stilling his laughter as he pulls the chair back to take a seat and stare at you. He poses his arms and hands the same as yours, mirroring your actions.

“I want that too”, he mumbles, shy but true.

“Can we have that?” You wonder, your eyes falling on his hands, soft yet strong.

Chan has held you many times, and supported you through different times. You know he can be a perfect constant to hold on to, but you wonder if his career can take this. If he can be there for you for this. Because if you are honest, your biggest fear is that he will put too much pressure on himself if he tries to be a leader and a good partner to a pregnant wife at the same time. You have always known him to be the kind of guy to step up without anyone asking him to. You have learned from him to be the same, to grow stronger for Chan to have someone to support him as well...but this time you have to be realistic, how much can you share the weight of things once you are also worried about the safety of a baby? How much stress can you take from him while getting ready to have a kid.

He drops his hands on the table, you have moved your gaze from his eyes to his hands to the table. You are doubtful, you are pulling away from him as you speak.

“We can.” He assures you, reaching out to pull your hands in his. “We can do this.”

Chan brings you back with his words, his tone is honest and bright. His eyes are full of joy and excitement.

You feel the warmth of his skin on your skin and look up with hope, your trust in him is so complete you nod, you don’t even think about it as you reply. You would die for your husband. You would take all the pain, all the responsibility, and hardships for him. And so would he for you. This is why doubting what you two can accomplish together is ridiculous, you shake your head from all those doubts and squeeze his hands between your own.

“Let’s do this.” You whisper.

--------

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

[oraclefreak]

I think we, DPS fans, don't talk about Charlie during the school's tribute to Neil enough.

He's not singing.

Meeks, Pitts and Knox are singing, letting all their feelings out.

Cameron is singing a little calmer. You can see the sadness in him though.

Todd is stuttering words, not even singing—but he's trying.

Charlie does not sing.

I'm sorry for the picture's quality.

At first I thought he didn't sing because he was angry at Neil for leaving all of them; the Dead Poets, Keating and his dreams of becoming an actor. We saw at the beginning of the film how Charlie tried to convince Neil to speak up to his parents. I think he really wanted Neil to be happy, and he knew he wouldn't be if he stayed silent and pursued being a doctor because of his father.

During Neil and Mr. Keating's talk in the office, Neil mentioned Charlie: "We are not a rich family like Charlie's" (quoted by memory). Charlie tried to make Neil pursue acting when they had different social backgrounds; Charlie could go against his parents and not ruin everything. But Neil was an only child from a family that was mantained by his father and no one else... and not particularly wealthy either.

Even if they had those differences, they didn't separate them. And both of them were boys with dreams they couldn't follow easily. Charlie was more rebellious (especially when it came to school's authorities). Neil was more of the type to go with whatever people wanted. Charlie was more risk-taking. Neil's risk in the whole movie was participating in the play (yes, the club wasn't a Neil risk; it was all of the poets').

Charlie was really proud of Neil for finally following his dreams.

"He's good. He's really good."

Sounds familiar?

"I was good. I was really good."

This parallel makes sense to me, especially if we analyze the very first scene of Charlie and Neil in the movie. As I said, Charlie wanted Neil to speak up to his father. And when he did and it all broke apart; Neil said words Charlie had said about him during the play.

Obviously, Charlie disliked Neil's dad. We can be sure about that, definitely.

The school's tribute to Neil was either Mr. Perry's idea or he gave the permission to do it. The authorities thought of Neil's death as the institution's problem. Keating was suspicious from the beginning because of his unconventional teaching methods (plus Mr. Perry thought Keating told Neil to keep his place in the performance, which he did—but he made it look like it was a real problem... 1950s, let's go).

Charlie didn't think this event of singing words of grief and so on was for Neil. Neil didn't die to be missed. Neil died because he would miss out on what he wanted to do. But that reasoning didn't even come across the authorities' heads.

I think of Charlie as a person who has an internal philosophy, a reasoning that most people wouldn't think of. So, when every single one of his friends are singing because they miss Neil; Charlie does not sing because this is a way to pay respects to Mr. Perry for losing his son. A way to say the authorities are right. A way to say "Neil... poor boy." Neil was miserable because he wasn't free. And his only way to be free was... not living.

I believe this "Charlie wasn't singing" thing can be interpreted in many, many ways. I probably overanalyzed it because 6 years of DPS make someone go insane eventually. What I do think is clear is that Neil and Charlie's friendship was very obvious from the start. And yes, the not singing thing is something to observe and think about... but their whole friendship isn't very talked about in the fandom! And I had the idea to write about not only the movie's scenes that have both of them, but also how I perceive it (hence why I would describe this post as a theory rather than facts).

I would love to see other people's takes on this subject too !!

[alyswritings]

Creep

Sturniolo Triplets x sister!reader

Summary: Y/N runs into a creep at the store.

Warnings: creepy dude

(gif not mine)

Y/N is visiting her brothers in L.A. and the four are currently shopping after having gone to see a movie. Y/N separated from her brothers to find some clothes, the triplets going to the men's section, promising to text each other when they were done.

Y/N has a few clothes in her arms, already trying them on. She continues to look through the racks, seeing if anything else grabs her attention.

"Hey, sweetheart." She turns at the voice, finding a man, definitely in his mid 30s, if not 40s, standing there, a predatory smile on her face. The 18 year old tenses up a bit, but tries not to make it obvious.

"Hi." She mumbles, not wanting to be rude in case that were to go the wrong way -- even though whatever she does, it's 99% a lose/lose situation for her no matter how she reacts.

"What you doing here all alone?" He asks, walking closer, eyeing her up and down.

"I-I'm not alone, actually." Y/N nervously clears her throat. "I-I have brothers -- three of 'em." She quickly informs, praying that those three brothers could show their faces at the moment.

"I don't see 'em anywhere." The guy chuckles. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't ya?" He grins. Y/N merely hums, turning her attention back to the clothes for sale. Maybe if she ignores him, he'll leave.

"What, not gonna talk to me now?" He leans down, getting too close for comfort. "C'mon, honey, I'm not a bad guy. You wanna go get something to eat?"

"N-no." Y/N mumbles, shaking her head, taking a few steps away to create distance, but he only follows.

"You sure? I know a really good place." He persuades.

"I'm 15." She lies.

"So?" He shrugs causing Y/N's stomach to churn, her throat closing up. "C'mon, pretty girl." He puts his hand on her waist, sliding it around her back to her other side, pulling her closer.

"I don't-- no. I really don't want to." She meekly replies, her breathing picking up at how he has her trapped.

"You'll love it. I promise." He smiles, leaning down so he's in her face.

"Could you, please--" Her voice cracks. "I really don't--"

"Hey!" Y/N's protest is cut off by a very familiar voice that makes her sigh in relief. "The fuck you doing?" Nick questions.

"Just having a conversation, man." The guy shrugs, loosening his grip enough to let Matt pull Y/N away, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He turns away from the guy, tucking Y/N into his side.

"You okay?" He mumbles, loud enough for only her to hear. Y/N's breathing is shaky, her hands shaking. "Breathe. Breathe." He quietly instructs, demonstrating the breathing exercise she always follows when she needs it.

"Uh... didn't look like a pleasant conversation." Chris comments, glancing at Y/N who Matt shields from the man.

"We were having fun. Who the fuck are you guys, anyway?" The guy rolls his eyes at the three boys who look the same.

"People who aren't putting up with your shit." Nick replies. "Next time you try to touch someone, make sure it's consensual, creep."

"Fuckin' perv." Chris grumbles under his breath, sending the man a disgusted look.

"Hey, girl, can I get your number?" The guy asks.

"No." The triplets immediately answer, glaring at him until he's out of sight.

"Y/N/N. You okay?" Chris asks, lightly patting her on the head. The girl weakly nods, starting to calm down now that the man's gone.

"Thank you." She mumbles.

"No need." Nick says, ruffling her hair. "Should've gotten here sooner." Y/N shakes her head, silently insisting it's not their fault. They couldn't have known.

"Here. You guys go out to the car, we'll pay real quick." Chris offers, taking the items from Y/N's arms.

"Okay." Matt nods. "C'mon." He mumbles, leading Y/N out of the store. He keeps his arm around her all the way to the car, opening the door for her and shutting it after she gets in.

"Sure you don't wanna sit up front?" Matt asks, glancing back at her. Y/N nods. "You sure you're okay?" He asks, reaching back and rubbing her knee.

"Yeah." Y/N nods. "Not the first time I've had to deal with creepers."

"Yeah, I know." Matt grumbles in annoyance and disgust, hating how Y/N, and all women, have to deal with guys who refuse to respect a simple wish. "Fucking stupid asshole pervs." He huffs.

"Can we get Cane's?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah." Matt nods.

"Do you guys have ice cream?" She asks.

"We can stop and get some." Matt promises.

Chris and Nick get to the car, Chris climbing in the passenger seat while Nick puts the shopping bags in the trunk before getting in next to his sister.

"Where now?" Chris asks, glancing between his three siblings.

"We're gonna stop to get ice cream and then Cane's." Matt informs. "You guys need anything?"

"Nope." Nick shakes his head, getting on his phone.

"I'm good with that plan." Chris nods. While Matt starts to drive, Chris takes the aux cord, putting his music on, but makes sure he doesn't play any songs Y/N dislikes too much.

Nick gets on his phone, immediately going to TikTok. He waits until he finds a funny video to show Y/N, the girl quietly laughing at it. He continues to scroll while Y/N scoots over to the middle seat and buckles up there. She slouches a bit, leaning against Nick, her head on his shoulder while they watch the videos.

---

The four get back to the triplets' house, going up to the kitchen and getting the food out, Matt putting the ice cream in the freezer.

Y/N digs into some of the fries, taking a sip of her drink.

"Come here." Chris walks over, his arms held out to her. He pulls her into a tight hug, his head resting on top of hers. Y/N accepts the hug, hugging him back with almost as much strength. She knows it's his best way of comforting and he probably wanted to hug her earlier, but didn't get the chance.

"You guys don't have to give any special treatment cause I was preyed on, you know?" Y/N comments as she pulls away. Chris keeps a hand on her shoulder, moving his fingers to play with her hair.

"Mm. You still seem kinda out of it." Chris points out, the girl still a bit quieter than usual.

"You did pretty much have a panic attack. Definitely on the verge." Matt reminds.

"Relax. We weren't treating you that special." Nick says. "But, if you insist." He chucks a few fries at her.

"Nick!" She complains.

"What?" He innocently shrugs.