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#especially hating on her because OF A MAN????? like get a life and a hobby outside of being a dick rider for a man who doesn't even exist
nail-art-no-jutsu · 2 days
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🎶🌹 Rojuro 'Rose' Otoribashi headcanons 🌹🎶
Soundtrack: Alexis Ffrench - A Time of Wonder
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Y'all I'm back on the bleachwagon and I can't stop thinking about this man, I especially love to imagine how he got to where he is, and finally I'm putting all my ideas in one place. So without further ado:
I don't think he grew up in Soul Society, but I definitely think he died at the worst possible time, when he was young and life was good and easy, and he had time to indulge in his hobbies, music in particular
like Toshiro, Rose heard the calling of Kinshara before he knew what it was, he just thought it was just something that happens to artists after they die
but unlike Toshiro, I imagine Rose told everyone, cause he just talks a lot in general lmao, and someone or other must have told him that what he's describing is called a zanpakuto
otherwise he wouldn't have gone and become a Shinigami at all
he was only interested in the training he needed in order to understand this creative force inside of him that he absolutely must express outwardly, and no instrument seems to be good enough
... except for a sword ...
he absolutely hated the Academy though, not enough room for creative freedom, too much structure, no composing daydreaming in class allowed, not to mention how he always got the best ideas for songs he wanted to write while he was in the middle of a training session
the only good thing about the Academy was meeting many of the people he would call friends for way over a hundred years
Rose didn't acquire shikai or even bankai in order to advance in his career or to become more powerful, he did so because it would have been impossible not to
Kinshara is very insistent and when it has something to show him, he has no choice, not that he doesn't absolutely love the experience, it's so magnificent that it moves him to tears of joy, it's ecstatic, it's sensory heaven
Rose: look at this thing I just learned to do, isn't this wonderful? Any of his friends: my dude, that's called a shikai, go apply for the position of Lieutenant. right now!!!!
he goes through a phase where he's uncomfortable with the fact that Kinshara doesn't just entertain, it kills
he'd be a lover not a fighter if it wasn't for how much farther he got artistically after learning to use his love for music for fighting
he overcomes this dilemma by telling himself that it's fine actually because he's one of the good guys, and promising that he'll only blur the line between creation and destruction against opponents who really deserve it
how do you identify that? he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. don't worry about it
Rose didn't have a good time as a Lieutentant, again, too much structure, but he actually did apply for the position of Captain himself, at least that way he'd get to make the rules and he could take breaks whenever he wanted and procrastinate with his paperwork until he found the perfect background music for it and so on
this did not work out that great, because he had a very hard time working with Iba's mother as his Lieutenant, she had no patience for *gestures towards all of this*, and I also suspect she might have been resentful that someone so carefree ended up as her superior
and to fast forward just for a bit, Izuru is not like that at all, and it's one of the first things that Rose appreciates about him, Izuru does respect structure, but he's not above doing the work in all kinds of unusual ways as long as it gets done
a thing that Rose shares with Shinji is that he's always been interested in what's going on in the world of the living, especially when it comes to music, and then he branched out to literature, philosophy, pop culture, and other things that are referenced in lyrics, that's how he learns about things, even if after that he starts enjoying them for their own sake
I can see them both taking trips to music stores or to concerts on Earth, separately or together, especially when they were supposed to be doing something else
Rose just really needs a lot of enrichment in his enclosure or else he absolutely will wilt and perish, most gracefully, of course~
he is in fact not a snob when it comes to music, he knows the lyrics to songs you'd least expect, and he can appreciate the artistic value of artists or genres that he doesn't really listen to
you wanna rickroll him? nice try, he loves that song
and yeah, this is getting so long someone pls take my keyboard away from me
just kidding, this is way too much fun 💖
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makeyouminemp3 · 2 years
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nancy wheeler antis are actually so weird to me. and honestly, I'm done playing the nice card of, "not trying to be rude" cause I am. I'm simply just so tired of it and I don't get it. ESPECIALLY with the bullshit reasons yall have for hating her by bringing up, "oh, but she hurt poor baby steve. she's such a bitch" look, I understand steve's feelings in that situation but I feel for nancy SO MUCH MORE. because yall CONSTANTLY ignore her trauma and call her a bad girlfriend to steve and even going wayyyyy out of line and saying she ABUSED him? and even if she is a bitch, she's allowed to be anyways. I support her rights and her wrongs. and also some of you guys are the same people who stan the CANONICALLY racist abuser known as b*lly flopgrove. like be for real with me right now
you guys are weird, you're high key misogynistic in my opinion, and your takes suck and you should stay off my blog and never have an opinion on nancy wheeler ever again or you're getting blocked
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lxnarphase · 5 months
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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★
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━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎
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you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.
every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.
nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.
except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.
he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.
you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.
and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.
eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.
these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!
it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!
so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.
"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.
toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.
"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."
crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!
"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."
having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.
it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.
"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.
no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?
"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"
whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.
"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.
"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"
"make me."
you blink.
a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.
ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.
"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."
catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.
his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?
as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.
oh.
oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?
curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.
fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.
propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in-
"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."
"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.
toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.
and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.
but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....
fuck.
he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.
"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"
"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.
the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.
he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?
when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."
toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.
wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.
"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.
toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.
you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.
"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.
has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.
his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.
his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.
he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.
"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."
scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.
it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.
"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."
those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.
good boy. you called him a good boy.
the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.
he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.
"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like
"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.
he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.
"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."
oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.
he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.
"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."
"that's my good boy."
once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.
"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."
feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.
he needs it.
he needs you.
needs you so fucking bad.
feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.
he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?
"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"
shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?
feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.
when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.
"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"
you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.
tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.
ah.
it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.
"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"
"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"
"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"
"they didn't."
that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?
...guess you need to find out.
shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"
the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.
while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.
"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.
melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.
despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.
"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.
but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.
his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.
“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.
meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.
"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."
it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.
toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.
"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"
he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.
"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."
you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.
"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."
“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”
you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.
"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."
god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.
"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."
you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"
he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.
"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."
the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.
they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.
"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."
toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.
he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."
one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.
"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.
"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.
it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.
the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"
you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.
your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.
"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"
with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.
his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"
still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"
you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."
"heh. fair point."
you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."
"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"
"my god, toji, you are nasty."
"but you like ittttt."
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.
soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.
he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.
as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.
...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.
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gothicflowers · 3 months
Note
Domestic Price headcanons!! ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!!!
Domestic!Price x F!reader
WARNING MDNI (+18 ONLY)
Warnings : tooth rotting fluff, some sexual references.
Word Count: ? So many
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Sorry this took me forever to write, the past month has been insane. But things are finally getting better and I’m feeling creative.
Domestic!Price isn’t someone that many are familiar with. Especially those he works with. When price joined the military he was a teen who was in the punk scene and he couldn’t hold a job for more than a month. The man was running from the cops and passed out at random houses half the week. By six pm there was liquor on his breath. His dear mom had enough one day and kicked him out. When he stumbled through the front door she had a suitcase full of his good clothes packed and handed him a small amount of cash. He told her he didn’t care and he didn’t need her. After two months of couch surfing and working odd end jobs for cash he seen something about enlisting in the military. Free housing, consistent pay and a uniform. John knew he could pick up girls easily with a uniform on, easier than his charming personality already could.
Six months later he’s in basic training regretting his decision to join. He came into basic training more out of shape than he thought. He hates reading and is having to study and sit through classes when he’s not being drilled. But by week five somehow he’s leading the class. Perfect scores on test, marksmanship skills are undeniably good, and maybe that mandatory haircut doesn’t look too bad.
He graduated top of his academy class with flying colors. Five years later price has slowed worked his way up the chain. He’s still a cocky bastard but nobody can deny his knowledge of strategies and tactics. He’s a hard ass to new guys but ensures they are well trained, after all John is a firm believer that you’re only as good as your weakest guy.
After two years of being in he realized his mom was right. So on one of his days off he showed up to his moms with flowers and sweets and apologized and thanked her for giving him the push he needed. Even if he didn’t realize it at the time.
John Price has finally got his life together. But he’s still a playboy who doesn’t see the point in setting down with a nice lady. He has time right?
Before he knows it LT John Price in his early thirties. Nobody to come home to every night actually sucks. Too much beer gives him a headache and he’s not much for parties anymore. He’s picked up a few hobbies like leather-working and fishing, but there is still a void in his life. Price is… alone.
John didn’t fear commitment, but young John didn’t see how keeping a woman by his side would benefit him then. John wishes he could go back in time and smack himself for all the times he turned down sweet kind women who wanted to settle down. He broke so many hearts, all because he thought he had time.
That’s when he starts daydreaming. Thoughts of walking through the front door and being greeted by his lover and maybe even a dog or two. Summers nights stargazing rather than slouched on the couch with a beer in hand. Having purpose, a life outside of his job. So he put the effort into making a dating profile and goes on a few dates. A few horrible dates. So he deleted the profile and slowly gave up.
Then one day you cashed into his life, well... technically he did.
Literally.
John wasn’t paying attention while backing his car out at the supermarket and backed right into your car. Your bumper was deeply scratched and your taillight cracked. You both pulled back into your parking spaces to look at the damage. Before you knew it the idiot driver that backed into you was next to you profusely apologizing. The man had tired eyes and looked defeated at his careless actions. You couldn’t deny that the idiot was incredibly handsome.
“I’m so sorry, I should have looked in my mirror and I didn’t and I-“ John rambled.
“Don’t worry, this car has more scratches than I care to count” you replied giggling.
John was clearly struggling to talk as he was distracted by your beautiful face “I completely busted that taillight. Ma’am I’m so sorry. I can get my insurance and we can get this sorted”
“Well it’s a rather old car, so I have a better proposition” you smiled watching the mountain of a man remove his beanie to rub his hair.
“What would that be” he asked.
You smirked “Well there is a cafe on the corner. You look like you could use a coffee and so could I. We go have a nice cup, sit down like old friends and chat. Look online for a taillight replacement instead of getting insurance involved”.
You pleasantly surprised John and he agreed to your idea. Firstly because he hates dealing with paperwork and secondly because this beautiful creature wanted to actually talk to him. Somehow you two just clicked.After two hours of nonstop chatting and learning about each other John received a call from work demanding him to come in on his day off. Unfortunately closing your time together.
“Well I quite enjoyed this. And if you’re comfortable with it I can install that taillight when it comes in. I would hate for you to do it yourself. And maybe after I can take you out to dinner” John said, getting a little shy with his last sentence. He was praying he didn’t misinterpret and scare you off.
“What a gentleman. I would love that” you eagerly answered. You wrote down your number for him on a napkin.
(000)-000-0000
Y/N xoxo
A broken taillight is the beginning of Domestic!Price
About a week later John arrived on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, a tool bag and a new taillight. He was a tad bit nervous hoping to make a good impression.
Domestic!Price is the definition of chivalry.
He opens all doors for you and is quick to lend you his coat if you show the slightest signs of a chill.
Before you know it John brings you fresh flowers every week. Your grandmother always told you the stronger the intentions the longer the flowers will last. And the flowers John brings you live for what seems like an eternity.
As much as John wants to move fast he forces himself to slow his pace. He feels the need to prove he’s the gentleman you deserve. Especially after learning about your shitty dating experiences.
Even when he brought you home from your first date he only left with a kiss. Granted it was a long passionate kiss, but just a kiss. He’d desperately wanted to tear your clothes off in that moment, but didn’t want to give off the impression that he expected it. He said goodnight and left. You were kinda shocked that you two didn’t fuck, you took an everything shower and had lingerie under your outfit. But it was actually refreshing to find a man that was satisfied with just a kiss. He wasn’t putting on an act the whole night to get lucky, he was genuinely interested in you.
His good morning texts always arrive to your phone around 5:45AM. John did warn you beforehand that he frequently is away from his phone during meetings and trainings so you never worry about him ignoring or long awaited responses.
John will wake up before you regardless of the day. He’s usually found making coffee/tea and breakfast somewhere around 08:30. He usually brings it all up to bed on a tray. Heaven forbid he lets you lift a finger this early. Every morning you both snuggle with your coffee and listen to the birds chirping outside the window.
Domestic!Price is not very good at cooking, breakfast and desserts are the only things you let him make. Mostly because he’s surprisingly good at making them. You always tell him if he leaves the military he should be a pastry chef. Price likes comfort food, hardy meals that almost make him fall asleep afterwards. He’s in denial about gaining 15 pounds since he met you. But he feels that the extra pounds are just the extra love you gave him to carry around. He had to go down a notch on his belt because he’s got a little love handle to him now. You feed him well.
Football is his thing. Price is very passionate about it but thankfully he’s calm about it, he knows you don’t do well with yelling in the house. Usually takes you to a couple games a season. You two have matching jerseys, yes he had them custom made.
He hates messy. When he first joined the military he had two roommates that never picked up after themselves, neither did he. Until one day he found a molded plate in between the couch cushions, he started to become a clean freak after that. He moved out a few months later when his roommate’s wouldn’t clean up their mess.
Nowadays Domestic!Price loves a clean home. He made a chore list for both of you. He always helps you with your chores despite you telling him to relax. He loves candles and the smell of fresh sheets. Price wasn’t very organized before he met you, thankfully you managed to get the home organized and he can find everything now.
IKEA who? Never head of her. Domestic!price likes wood working. The kitchen table, cabinets, china hutch and so much more was all hand made by price. But the most elaborate thing he’s ever made? The bed frame. It has some… flair as he called it when it was finally put together. The frame has secret pockets for rope to be tied to. Specifically so he can tie you down. And let’s not forget that makeup vanity he made you, that mirror is a lockable cabinet containing a whirlwind of things. Vibes, clamps, ropes, differently shaped dildos, paddles, you name it it’s in there. Why is there two smoke alarms in your bedroom? Well… one of the is just a cover for that ceiling hook so he can suspend you.
Domestic price doesn’t mind vanilla sex. Lots of times you two disregard the kinky objects and are just wrapped in a passionate embrace. John’s not one for staying quiet, both of you could be heard from the front door when you’re together. He will be soundproofing the room if you two decide on kids.
Speaking of kids this man has the biggest breeding kink known to man. It’s not seeing his cum dripping out of your hole that fuels the fire in his belly. It’s the sheer thought of you both sitting around the dinner table with your kids asking each other about their day. Dance recitals and little league games. Watching you being a loving parent and having everything you need. That’s what he desires out of life.
Domestic!Price craves domestic life. Where there’s no threat, no bogeyman in the closet, no sound of gunfire, there’s just you two and the home you created.
John always drives, you’re a passenger princess. If it’s a nice day he takes you out for a drive in his classic car he restored himself. Windows down while 2000’s dad rock plays. Speaking of music he likes to collect vinyls. His collection grew heavily when he started buying records that you like. He plays Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album weekly.
Domestic!Price likes slow dancing with the lights dimmed late at night. He’s a fan of 70’s music and it’s his usual go to for dancing. His father heavily influenced his music taste.
Price doesn’t care for the term boyfriend. After about a month of you two dating he promoted himself to husband. John said boyfriend “sounds childish at our age” when you asked sweetly what that was about when he introduced himself to your coworkers. He said he wouldn’t do it again if it made you uncomfortable to which you promptly said you liked it and much preferred the idea of being his wife rather than his girlfriend. That night he started looking at rings.
He went through your jewelry taking note if you wore gold or silver more. What types of jewelry styles interested you. The man was on a mission for the perfect ring. And what doesn’t it matter if you two have only been together two months? His grandparents met and married after three months and they were the definition of true love.
And yes he did propose at only four months. It was better than you could have imagined. He planned a whole weekend getaway and you never suspected it. He had rented a private boat for you two and brought champagne and charcuterie. He proposed a toast to you two and got down on one knee. You were both crying tears of joy when you said yes.
Unlike most men who buy their significant other jewelry he doesn’t buy you stones. Pearls, he buys you pearls. Expensive ones too. There’s just something about them on your neck that drives him wild. He hasn’t made the connection but it feeds into his housewife kink. There is something about him coming home from a long day and seeing you in a dress wearing those peals and an apron. A hot meal and the table is already set. You take his coat off and asking him about his day. Perfection.
Domestic!Price doesn’t share much about work. You know what he does and the stresses. He listened to your advice and does some therapy to help deal with his stress levels and the things he’s gone through. He slowly starts thinking about transferring to a job that won’t put him in the field.
He invited the boys over for dinner and his men were quite shocked. John didn’t give them much notice or anything really other than “don’t be late”.
Gaz who showed up in a tracksuit was under the impression this was a boys night with pizza and beer was shocked to arrive at a beautiful home with a perfect garden of roses. Ghost knew of your existence quite well as price loves to talk about your cooking and how much he misses you when they deploy. Soap… well… he said some things in Gaelic that you didn’t understand but surely they were those of surprise. Soap felt like a dumbass for wearing jeans and a cutoff tee.
John met them at the door and welcomed them in. The boys were rather impressed by the decor and how cozy it looked. The men half expected the home to be bare as they never took price as one for decor. But the biggest shock to Soap and Gaz was you, a woman slightly younger than Price who was in cooking in the kitchen is a pretty dress, heels and pearls. Even though Ghost was aware of your existence he was floored at how Price could pull such a beautiful woman.
Price proudly introduced you with his are around you lower back. After pleasantries they all offered to help you finish cooking, to which you laughed and said no. Even price shook his head because he knows you have your process of cooking and don’t like extra hands because it overwhelms you. And when you brought them a tray of neatly made drinks you have sworn Soap about died. No wonder Price always comes to work in a good mood, he’s got a pretty bird like you at home.
After seeing what his captains life is like outside of work it gave him some hope, maybe it’s possible to have a stable relationship with this job. Soap made a joke about “sharing”. That was the first time Price ever thought of beating Soap into the ground. Price is too proud of the life he daydreamed about to let another man or woman come into the picture. Just the thought of losing you or your lips kissing anyone but his will send him into a spiral. You’re his world. His to love, fuck, and protect.
Domestic!Price likes to slow down when he’s not at work. Life at a slower pace is more enjoyable. He can take in the sweet moments and the sunshine. He slowly starts bringing Simon and the boys around more and they too realize this.
Domestic!price doesn’t fully understand social media. He isn’t on any, most because of his job. Plus he doesn’t like how fake people are on it. He lets you post pictures of you two together but his face is always uniquely hidden, for your own protection of course. The first picture you posted of you two was actually from your wedding. You both walked together hand in hand as he was kissing your temple. After that you received several calls and texts from old friends and distant relatives asking when did you get married? Who is he? Where did you two meet?
Speaking of yours and prices wedding domestic Price was very involved in the planning. He found the most beautiful venue and really liked picking florals. I mean this man went over budget because he wanted the most elegant and elaborate flower arrangements. If you have any cultural customs John was very adamant that your customs would be met to your specifications.
Unfortunately John’s family is a handful and wanted to plan the wedding, his mother thought it was her big day. John sat her down and had a long conversation about boundaries and respect towards his soon to be wife. She actually apologized as she didn’t realize how much she was overstepping. Your mother was shocked that John was very involved with the planning, but it made her adore him even more.
You both have relatively large families but decided to keep the guests list under sixty people. Only close family and friends. This ruffled some feathers but it made for a perfect day. John is very good at controlling his emotions but when he seen you walk down the aisle his eyes welled with tears.
Domestic!Price can’t wear his ring to work. He wanted to tattoo a ring or your name somewhere on him but still feared it could be used as easy leverage. So he has a large chest tattoo that incorporates your favorite flowers and bird. In fact he starts slowing getting tattoos about you. It’s his way of keeping you with him when he’s gone.
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matryosika · 8 months
Text
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Attraction, obsession, infatuation
Pairing — Hyunjin and fem!reader Wordcount — 7,680 words Includes — Explicit sexual content. Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness. Smut warnings under the cut. Summary — It is easier to hate than to admit loving. Alternatively, where Hyunjin realizes he might be tired of pretending he doesn't want to be more than just your toy. Author's Note — First 2024 full story! One of my New Year's resolutions was to keep on writing, since the last two years have been a bit too rough with my creativity and, overall, life. I hope I can continue posting stuff this year, but I literally can't ignore the fact that I am graduating college this June and that the adult life is, inevitably, catching up to me. Still, writing is something I love so I am determined to take this hobby very seriously, since it's one of the few things I enjoy! I hope you like this, please remember that english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advanced. If you wish to support my work, please leave a comment, reblog or ask 💌 Post divider by @/cafekitsune
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Smut Warnings — Dirty talk, (very) mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking and deep throating, voyeurism, female (solo) masturbation), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, marking (and mentions of pain), dacryphilia, creampie.
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Humiliating.
There is no other way to describe the situation that perfectly.
[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: Seems like you got yourself a new toy]
[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: You don’t want to play with me anymore?]
[21:20 p.m., Hyunjin: I mean, we both know why you agreed to come here in the first place. It's not like you're the best of friends with any of my roommates, anyways.]
You hate how right he always is —how shamelessly he speaks, how pridefully he carries that ego of him. 
People say there is a thin line between hatred and love, but they never talk about how tempting it is to walk on it. Especially because said line doesn't involve any of the former—if anything, that line represents all the carnal pleasures. 
Pure lust.
[21:21 p.m., You: Please]
[21:21 p.m., You: You’re so full of yourself, you know that?]
Hyunjin rolls his eyes right in front of you, tongue poking through his cheek while he reads your messages.
[21:22 p.m., Hyunjin: That never seems to be a problem when you're in my bed]
It's a never ending bickering. A never ending teasing. 
Hyunjin has always loved the thrill of doing things he isn't supposed to —no wonder why he ended up fucking you, out of all the women he knows. 
Attraction, obsession, infatuation. 
No amount of words could describe what happens between the two of you.
[21:23 p.m., You: I’m busy, in case you haven’t tell]
His cheeks grow hotter, killer eyes darting between you and the man you're talking to; appearing all sweet, gentle, collected, and everything you're not when you are with him. Your hand lays peacefully over your companion’s thigh, playfully hitting it when he says something remotely funny. 
Your smile hasn't worn off since you entered the party, and Hyunjin genuinely wonders if you’re that happy and comfortable to be around any other man. Inevitably, he begins to wonder if you'd let him touch you like he does, kiss you like he has. He stares at you two for a little too long, and questions if you'd let that man do everything Hyunjin is entitled to do with you. 
Would you let him treat you like he can? Let him fuck you like he does?
He chugs down the alcohol from his cup and uses that as an excuse to calm his masochistic urges, walking away from the scene he has been staring at for almost 10 minutes now. 
It's like pouring lime over a wound, like pulling out a loose tooth. It hurts, but it makes him feel something.
“If you didn't hate her I would say you're totally drooling over her,” a black-haired man that smiles teasingly with his eyes is quick to ambush Hyunjin as he makes his way to the kitchen. 
“What? Did your date get tired of you too early tonight?”
Changbin’s tongue pokes his cheek, and he can’t help but smile at Hyunjin’s moodiness. “She went to the bathroom, I just came here for some drinks”. 
“Well, get to it,” Hyunjin commands, stretching his shoulders in an attempt to release all the build-up tension over them.
“Man, you've been acting so out of your element lately,” Changbin remarks, placing a bottle of vodka and another of pineapple juice aside with two red solo cups. “You’re always in a fucking mood, this is actually the first time I see you outside your bedroom in like... a while”. 
Hyunjin won't admit it, but he is sulking. 
Because of college, because of work, because of things he can't begin to fix and because of you.
“Just busy, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry I can't spend all day sticking my dick in different holes and doing an 8-hour shift at the gym”. 
Changbin scoffs bitterly under his breath, nose flaring at his friend's harshness. “Maybe that's exactly what you need,” he nods, pouring a drink for himself and his date, “a good fuck”.
He rolls his eyes. 
Yeah, maybe he needs that, but he also needs for you to stop touching your date's thigh, laughing amusingly loudly like you want him to hear how much of a great time you're having. Maybe Hyunjin needs to relieve all his anger on you, or he just needs for you to spare him a fucking glance because you haven't even looked at him since you walked in.
“Yeah,” he finally exhales, stealing the vodka bottle from Changbin’s grip to pour some onto his cup. He chugs it down quickly, and clears his throat when he feels the liquid burning inside, “that’s what I need”. 
Changbin pats his right shoulder and abandons the kitchen when he spots his date closing the bathroom door behind her. And Hyunjin is left alone once again, wondering if it's time to ditch the party and lock himself inside his room or if he should hurt himself a bit more to get a grip on reality.
Inconveniently, he chooses the latter. Resting his hips against the kitchen counter, and turning his back on the full view of the living room, Hyunjin begins to thread a line of questions that may never have a proper answer. 
Had he met you in another context, and in a distinct light, would things be different? Would your dynamic be different?
Maybe he would've apologized when he had time, for all the useless bickering that always took place between the two along the friend group. Had he surrendered to your stubbornness, rather than putting up a fight like it's typical from him, would the anguish be less?
Now that he reflects on it, Hyunjin can't even tell why you two hate each other these days. He never questioned it, the hatred you felt for each other, but he no longer knows why it's still there. Maybe it was a first impression, maybe it was a dumb comment or joke he cracked when you were introduced to the friend group. Maybe it was the fact that you two are so alike, personality wise, that you never seemed to get on.
Maybe you keep on hating each other because that's how it always has been, because there hasn't been a room to question the "what if's". 
Or maybe you hate him just for being him, and the only thing you've come to mend with is the fact that he is nothing more than a good fuck.
His heart aches because of this last thought, and he stares at his phone screen for a bit too long, hoping to get a text from you. But you're busy, you said it yourself, and he is just feeling out of place. 
“Hey,” the familiar voice it's enough for him to lift up his eyes from his phone, encountering a sheepishly grinning, red-eyed Jisung. “Changbin told me you’re in a mood, again”.
“He should put his mouth to good use,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. 
“He is worried about you though,” his friend says. “We all are, you know”. 
Hyunjin sighs, “I’m fine”. 
“Dude, come on,” Jisung drags his words lazily. “It’s about her, right?”
He shoots a killer gaze at him, “about who?”
If Jisung hadn't been higher than the fucking Empire State, he would've considered Hyunjin’s gaze a threat. But his mind is not precisely paying attention to any social cues, so he proceeds to say your name as a response. 
"You should stop smoking that shit ever so often, you know?" he spits in annoyance, "it's making you delusional".
“Yeah, right man,” Jisung nods. “And you can keep being angry with the world just because you can't be angry with her”. 
It disgusts Hyunjin how poetic that sounds, but his friend isn't too far from the truth —he would much rather project his anger and annoyance onto everyone else before you.
Because if you call, if you look for him, if you text him and ask him to see you, he will always be available. Even when he is not. Even when he has a ton shit to do. Even if all you want is his dick and a couple of dirty words. 
Every time you ask, Hyunjin will give you anything you want.
“We don't have to talk about her though. Just wanted to check up on you,” his friend continues after an excruciatingly long silence, patting one of his shoulders like Changbin did before. 
“There’s nothing to talk about, anyways,” Hyunjin says.
“Are you on, like, bad terms?” 
“We’re not on any terms,” again, the urge to deny everything. It's always easier to pretend nothing it's going on than admitting there's a huge fucking elephant in the room. “We fuck, occasionally, and that's it. Not friendship, not intimacy, not trivial conversations about each other's days”. 
“Well, that's some sort of the ideal to a fuck buddy relationship,” Jisung tilts his head. “It’s supposed to work”. 
It should. 
And it did, for a while —when the feelings were minimum and could be repressed, when the anger only translated to hatred and annoyance, and not jealousy and possessiveness.
These days, it's just not enough.
“Yeah well,” Hyunjin scoffs bitterly, holding the almost empty bottle of alcohol to his lips. 
Thank God he isn't a light weight, because he would've been screwed by now. Vodka isn't his greatest match, but neither are you and he knows he has to sacrifice something tonight —whether it’s his rationality or his heart. 
“Alright,” he finally exhales, pushing the empty bottle away from the edge of the counter. “I’m going back to my room”.
"Already?"
“That's the beauty of people using your apartment to host a fucking party, I guess,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to one of the kitchen pantries to grab his favorite bottle of wine. “You can just walk a minute and be in the comfort of your own bed”. 
“Haven’t you drunk too much?” Jisung asks. 
“Definitely not enough,” the dark-haired replies, grabbing both the bottle and a glass with one of his hands. “Tell Jeongin to kick everyone out by 2, I’m not paying for another noise complaint again”. 
And as he makes his way to his room, it's inevitable for Hyunjin not to spare a glance at the couch you were once sitting on. But his eyes meet Changbin and his date instead, without any trace of you or the man you were with. And he doesn't know if he should feel relieved or worried because you're no longer in his eyesight, and as comforting as that thought should be is nothing more than anguish-inducing.
He says goodbye to some of his friends, and also deals with Changbin’s insistence to stay around before he is able to lock himself inside his room. It was, at best, a 3 minute situation from the kitchen to his bed, but it felt like ages. Mostly because his eyes kept on scanning the whole apartment, hoping to find something that could tell him you're still there and you didn't leave the party with that man although you probably did. 
Much to his surprise, when he opens the door to his room, he finds you sitting at the edge of his bed.
You don't say anything, and neither does he. So you two stare at each other for a while before Hyunjin closes the door right behind him, leaving the wine and glass on a small table by the door.
“Wine? At a college party?” You finally interrupt the silence, using that playful, teasing tone you always use when you want to get on his nerves. “You really are something else”. 
Typical Hyunjin would think of a comeback rather quicker than the speed of light —he has always been witty and good with his words, and that's something you find utterly, despicably attractive in him. 
But after 4 shots of vodka and an unamusing mood, all he wants it’s to kick you out and plop down onto his bed. 
“Weren’t you busy?” he asks in a murmur, too lazy to make himself be heard. But it is loud and clear for you to hear, even with the bustling coming from down the hall.
“He bored me,” you admit. “Kept talking about his football team, and how he is going to work at his father's company once he graduates”. 
Hyunjin lets out a bitter and quiet scoff, giving you his back while he pours some wine onto his glass. You can’t fool him, even if you try like right now.
But he attempts to ignore his rapid heartbeats by keeping a nonchalant, even annoyed countenance, albeit a part of him can't ignore the fact that you're in his room. 
Just you and him, finally.
“Are you going back to the party or…”
“I’m tired,” he cuts you short, chugging down the wine like it's a shot of anything else. Can't care less about etiquette when all he wants is to lose his sobriety along with his rationality. “I want to sleep”. 
“It’s 10:30,” you tease him, cocking one of your eyebrows and giving him that look that always makes him feel ridiculous.
On any other day, that would've been fuel to erase that smile off of your face by pushing it onto the pillows while he fucks you from behind.
Tonight, though, it just blatantly stings. 
“So?” The coldness in his voice makes you shudder, and when he doesn't respond like he usually does it's when you realize there's something different going on.
You and Hyunjin don't share that kind of intimacy. You don't tell him your problems, and he doesn't tell you his problems either. You don't comfort each other through words or romantic touches. You don't give words of encouragement and you don't talk things through.
If there's something to say, you do so through sex. 
But right now, that you've interrupted his night, you feel somewhat compromised to ask if he is alright.
“Bad day?”
Bad week, bad month, bad year, a bad fucking life.
“Don’t have to act like you care,” Hyunjin says, resting his hips against the furniture while he pours himself another glass of wine.
The comment catches you off-guard. First and foremost, because you're not quite sure you don't care about him at all. And second, because he is making it seem like you are the reason behind his bad mood.
But if he doesn’t want to talk, you’re not going to force him to. After all, you’re in his room for one reason, and one reason only. 
“Shit, sorry for asking,” you murmur, gripping the edge of the bed sheets with both of your hands. It's a common ground you've walked in, thousands of times. You've been in his bed for far more times than you can remember, and you've fucked a lot more than you can count. So you're not afraid of asking the question: maybe you should release some stress?
Hyunjin knows what you mean. He knows the sexual connotations of it, and knows that’s exactly the reason why you're in his room. 
On any other day, Hyunjin would've taken your word. But right now, when his eyes can only focus on the crimson bruise on your neck, the proposition enrages him.
He walks towards you, completely towering over your figure. One hand holds the glass of wine, while the other cups your face and maneuvers it harshly, leaving the hickey for him to see. 
“He bored you?” The way he spits such a question makes your heart skip a beat. Don’t leave a rough mark, you told the guy, just a faint hickey. Of course he wouldn’t care, and neither did you —otherwise you would’ve checked yourself in the mirror before approaching Hyunjin wearing someone else’s lovebites, “or he just wasn't the one you wanted to fuck tonight?”
You move your head away from his touch with a swift movement, immediately missing the warmth of his skin against yours, "does that even make a difference?"
But it doesn't.
In the end, you only look for him because you want a good fuck and it seemed like your date just couldn't get the job done.
Not because you want him, particularly. 
“No,” Hyunjin replies coldly. “But you should at least have some decency, you know?”
You know he isn't teasing you, like he always does. He is not saying all this to get a reaction from you, and that unsettles you.
He is acting and saying such things because he means them. Because he feels like them.
“Since when do you care about what I do or I don't?” you ask him, the tone in your voice increasing as Hyunjin’s gaze intensifies.
“You can do whoever the fuck you want,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to grip at the edge of the furniture behind him.
“Well, I want to do you”. 
“Maybe tonight I don’t,” Hyunjin gulps down the wine, having a way harder time swallowing the euphoric sensation of his ego rather than the alcohol coming down his throat.
 And you stare at him like he just said something controversial. Something weird, something unusual coming from him.
“You’re lying,” you say, darting him a challenging look. “You always want me”. 
“Why would I want something that everyone can have?” 
It’s his anger talking. His rage, his uncertainty, his jealousy. 
You're not wrong. He wants you, he always has and most likely always will. 
But he is too proud to admit it, both to you and himself. Especially after you’ve walked into his room with the ghost of another man’s hands and lips, wearing a mark on your skin that will never compare to how Hyunjin has been allowed to mark you.
“So that’s the issue?” you defy him, standing up from the edge of his bed to walk forward. “You’re acting like this just because I was with someone else?”
Your mocking tone makes it seem like it's something ridiculous and irrational, but you've aced your initial hypothesis.
You are the reason behind his bad mood.
“Just get out,” Hyunjin says, tense jaw and cold eyes locked into yours. “You're getting on my nerves”. 
Your tongue pokes through your cheek and you look at him in disbelief —you feel taken aback because of how he is acting, and you want to blame it on the alcohol he has ingested throughout the night. But he looks sober, and way more serious than his immature facade has ever made him appear.
“If I wanted to be with someone else tonight, I would’ve left your apartment a fucking hour ago,” the boldness in your voice only challenges Hyunjin to this staring contest he didn't know he is playing. Without blinking, without parting his gaze away, all his undivided attention is on you, and the way you're spitting your words like you're truly the one with a reason to be angry. 
Needless to say, your audacity only infuriates him further.
“If you wanted to be with me, you would’ve come into my room the second you step a foot into the apartment,” he shoots back, straightening his body against the furniture and causing it to move an inch closer to you, “I mean, you know the way well, don’t you?” 
He raises one of his eyebrows, and it’s embarrassing. 
Pathetically embarrassing. 
Stupidly idiotic.
“You've crawled on all fours from the door to my room before,” Hyunjin continues, tilting his head while his gaze falls from your eyes to your parted lips, “I'm sure that was enough for you to remember the path fairly well”. 
It was one time, you say to yourself. And you'd rather die than having to admit such a humiliating thing to anyone other than him. 
You'd rather die than having everyone know what you allow Hyunjin to do to you. You'd rather disappear into thin air than having to deal with the judgemental gazes from all of your friends.
The Hwang Hyunjin? The one you say you can't stand? The one that gets on your nerves because of how childish he is? The one you tell your friends you'd turn down a thousand times even if he was the last man standing on earth?
“Go fuck yourself, Hwang,” you're so close to him you can practically taste the red wine off of his lips. You're breathing the same air, hearts beating at the same rate.
You want him worse than you wanted him before —you like the feeling of his jealousy and his possessiveness. You like it when his hatred towards you transforms into hatred to anyone who dares to touch you; no one is allowed to have you like he is entitled to, and no one is allowed to hate you the way he does.
So he leaves the empty glass of wine behind, and guides one of his hands to your heated cheeks. He caresses it, pushing away the hairs from your face —the intimate touch might feel out of place and context, but you know damn well it's nothing more than the calm before the storm. 
A calling.
A warning.
You know Hyunjin more than you'd ever want to admit, and you crave him worse than you'd ever allow yourself to think.
"God fucked you up by giving you this shitty ego,” he murmurs, brushing his lips ever so slightly against yours. It seems as if Hyunjin walked right into your trap without knowing, blinded by instincts and completely ignoring the awful show you put up earlier with a man you don't even know his name, “and he fucked me up even more for making me like it”. 
It all happens in a fraction of second, too fast for you to catch some air and too sloppy for you to get the kiss right.
You're tasting the red wine, and his rage, and the longing lust you are always demanding from him whenever your body is against his. He kisses you ardently, teasing your tongue and biting your lower lip trying to fill you up just with him —to get rid of whoever kissed you first that night, and to intoxicate you with all of him for whoever will kiss you next.
One of his hands wraps around your figure, pressing you tighter against him, while the other swims through the roots of your hair, already in position to manhandle you like he knows he can.
The way he knows you want him to.
And you don't stop him when you feel the sting in your scalp, forcing you to break the kiss and down to your knees right in front of him in a careless way that will probably leave bruises.
“Said you wanted to do me?” Hyunjin asks, unzipping his pants with his available hand while the other holds your head still, despite your efforts to wipe away the drool from your lips and the hair sticking to your cheeks with his spit. “I’m right fucking here, do me”. 
You look at him with loathing but it is nothing more than a projection: you hate yourself for how much you needed this. 
For how much you need him.
“Don’t give me those eyes,” he falsely pouts, but the sound gets drowned in a grunt when he wraps his hand around his dick to stroke it a few times before guiding your mouth to the tip of it, “you want this”. 
His gaze finds yours in the midst of the struggle, and the only way you can think of letting him know you're consenting to this is by sticking your tongue out and licking the tip of his cock, collecting all his salty precum and tasting it like you've been starving for it.
At the sight, Hyunjin chuckles lowly. Still as cold, still as enraged.
“Did you suck him off too?” he asks, using the grip on your hair as his favor —with ease, he slams his hips against your mouth, letting the tip of his cock reach parts of your throat that are still tense. “Does he taste as good as I do?”
Hyunjin doesn't need to know that you planned this all along —that you purposely did everything to get him jealous. He doesn't need to know that you like the thrill of it, of watching his possessive and jealous side.
He doesn't need to know that you utterly adore when he fucks you like he actually hates you. Like you mean nothing and everything to him at the same time.
Hyunjin doesn't need to know a lot of things, so you tag along with the fantasy of everything you've yet to deny.
“Relax,” more than a soothing word, it’s an order. He maneuvers your head all along his length, applying more pressure when your nose hits his pubic bone and then forcing you away to let you breathe. “You’ve taken this cock before, you know exactly how to do it”. 
You try to regain control of your body, and your rationality, but it seems a rather useless task —when you're with Hyunjin, he is the one that does the thinking for you. When you're with him, you can't think of anything else but him, his voice, his eyes, the way he touches and kisses you, the way he tastes and the way he feels inside you.
“Too big,” you gasp in between thrusts of his hips against your lips. Your hand flies to reach the base of his cock, but he is quick to force you backwards with the grip on your hair.
“Do not touch me”.
“Hyun-”
“I said, do not touch me,” he repeats when you try to touch him again. “Do you really think you can go around touching other men and I won't do anything about it?”
Hyunjin wishes he wasn’t as prideful as he is —if he could swallow his ego easily, he could have your hands all over his body by now. But he is proud, and vengeful, and stubborn. No matter how much his skin is burning to feel the softness of yours against it, he needs to make his point.
“You’re- you can’t be serious,” you struggle between moans, with a voice so hoarse it's barely audible. 
“There’s the door,” he forces your head towards it, “you can leave if you don’t like it”. 
Your doe eyes, filled with anger and defy, dart between him and the door. Hyunjin is always the one in control, you're not really unfamiliar with that —the fact that he is acting like this, offering you a way out if you’re not willing to do things his way, makes you feel uneasy and curious.
You choose to stay only for the latter. Not because of anything else, right?
Right?
You don’t say anything, but fix your gaze on the man in front of you. 
And Hyunjin gets it, he gets the look you're giving him. That, paired with the fact that you're not doing anything to get away from his grip, tells him that you're more than willing to keep on going, so he continues manhandling you around.
“C’mere,” he mutters when guiding your head along his cock again, making you swallow him full without giving you any kind of warning whatsoever, “just like that”. 
You're gagging, and tearing up, and clearly struggling to take all of his cock. But never have you felt this hungry, and never have you felt this emptiness between your legs that only Hyunjin seems to be able to fill.
Your hands ache for his flesh, and so desperately you want to sink them on his thighs or ass; intertwine them with his, latch your fingers against his and squeeze them while you prove to him that he's the only one that gets to fuck your mouth like this. 
“Please,” you cry out when he gives you a break to catch some air, “I need- let me touch you, please”. 
"Should've thought of it before putting your hands on someone else," he hissed, brushing your hair wet with drool and tears away from your face. “Should’ve thought about me before running to another man”. 
“Hyunjin”.
Oh, how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips —especially when accompanied with sobs and whimpers. You're always so cool and collected, like you control everything and everyone around you. You never cry, never show anyone else a crevice of what you truly are, but he is the only one that gets to see you like this. The only one you really trust, the only one you give control to.
If you hate him that much, why do you always come crawling back to him?
If you hate him that much, why is he the only one that gets to use you like this?
And if you hate him that much, why can't Hyunjin forget what he truly feels about you?
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, cleaning your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’m sorry”. 
“For what exactly?” He is so close to you, you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours and get drunk on the wine that lingers in his breath. He is so close to you, he almost can't resist the urge of crashing his lips against yours again and taste himself off of you. 
“I don’t know,” you look at him with teary eyes. You feel like crying, and Hyunjin can tell. “I don’t know, it’s just- I’m sorry, okay? If that’s what you want to hear, then I’m sorry”. 
His eyebrows furrow.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “Your apologies mean nothing to me”. 
Your heart stings, and it is unusual. He is unusual, painfully real unlike all the times you've pretended to hate each other just for the dynamic.
Blame it on the alcohol, or the stress he has been feeling lately, or the fact that you've been nothing but a brat these days, but Hyunjin is angry. And hurt.
“Your actions, on the other hand,” it's all he tells you with his bright eyes boring into yours. “I want you to show me how sorry you truly are”. 
“Wha-”
He maneuvers you from the floor to his bed, forcing you on your back against the sheets you've grown to know fairly well. Your body writhes under him, and you fight back the urges to wrap your arms around his neck and force his body close to yours. 
“How- am I supposed to show you?” you ask in between the struggle, moving your body to Hyunjin’s will. With your help, he unbuttons your jeans and scatters them along the floor, just like your blouse and underwear.
He lets out a soft scoff, blowing air through his nose, amused. "As if you don't know me that well".
And because you know him well, you can't avoid the eerie feeling of fear that settles up in the deepest pits of your chest when his cold gaze makes contact with yours.
“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, with your heart ringing loudly in your ears.
“You should be asking what you're going to do for me, instead,” he murmurs, caressing the sides of your body with a creepy delicacy that doesn't match his demeanor at all. "Don't you want to be forgiven?" It's a rhetorical question, you know that much. And you do want to be forgiven, but you're not quite sure what twisted idea Hyunjin has of an apology. 
So you stay quiet, and hope for the best.
“You said you wanted me, right?” He asks yet again, fixing his eyes on yours. You just nod. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Yes,” you rush to say, “yes, I said I want you”. 
“How bad?”
The endless teasing is making you frustrated, but you're used to that. However, you're not used to feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes with each second that passes by.
You need him desperately. You need his kiss, and tongue, and hands on every part of your body that you'd never allow anyone else to touch.
No matter how much you say you dislike Hyunjin.
“So fucking bad,” you cry out, kicking you head back against the pillow.
Hyunjin hums, peppering wet and sloppy kisses over your tummy and inner thighs. You feel his breath so close to your wet center that you can only hope he gives you the attention you need. 
But that is not going to happen any time soon, and you know that.
“Fuck yourself,” he commands you, kneeling between your spread legs on top of his bed, “prove to me that you want me”.
You know the catch, know why Hyunjin is asking you such a thing.
He never does, unless he wants to punish you. And albeit not a rough punishment, there's nothing sweeter than watching you fall apart in frustration, to watch you deny yourself because he said so, to see you squirming in pain because you overstimulated yourself.
But then again, you'd do anything he says, just to be one step closer to him.
So you comply, with your index and middle finger shaking in anticipation as they make contact with your folds. Slowly but surely, you start fulfilling his demand —bitterly, with a look of disdain. 
One of his hands spread your legs further, and he stays kneeling between your thighs as he watches you. 
Impatient, eager, angry.
“I don’t have all day,” he finally snaps after a good 30 seconds of you just timidly teasing yourself. You can’t admit it out loud, but it is embarrassing —to have his eyes all over you but not his hands, to have your legs spread for someone who has no interest in touching you.
It's also embarrassing how wet you are by all of this. By his attitude, his anger and his jealousy.
“Sorry,” you barely mumble, sinking two fingers inside your throbbing pussy. 
You feel nothing. Not pain, nor pleasure. Just nothing.
“One more,” Hyunjin tells you and you comply. But after getting used to him and his size, nothing fills you up anymore. 
“You don’t- you don’t expect me to come just by this, do you?” You ask with a nervous scoff, biting down on your lower lip as you pull your fingers out just to thrust them inside again.
Hyunjin doesn't answer, and that only fuels your anguish even more. Instead, he fixes his eyes on your fingers, and the way they glisten with your wetness. He focuses on the sounds they make, and how warm you must feel after all the teasing.
You let out a whine, but it is not out of pleasure. It's a frustrated whine, a desperate one. You kick your head back, and fuck yourself harder with your fingers.
All your efforts are pointless.
“Don’t you dare,” Hyunjin warns you when your other hand slips to touch your clit. 
“I- I can’t just come with this,” you groan.
“How is that my problem?” 
It is humiliating —the way he is looking down on you, the way he is clearly amused by how stupid you must look right now touching yourself without feeling anything.
“Keep on going,” he tells you, licking his lips, “you won’t stop until you come”.
You shake your head and kick it against his pillow, trying to go impossibly deeper in hopes of finding that spot inside of you that only Hyunjin seems to know well.
Again, pointless.
“Come on,” you whine, now really on the brink of tears, “don’t do this to me”. 
“You did this to yourself,” he simply says, and his digits graze against your naked legs. 
The stimulation on your flesh is enough for you to clench around your fingers, and Hyunjin lets out a twisted smile when he sees the goosebumps flowering.
“Hyunjin”. 
“Can’t come by yourself?” He asks with a fake empathy, “you need me for that, right?”
You know where this is heading, and you’re willingly letting him lead you that way —you nod, swallowing thickly. 
“Yes,” you admit, hoping such a confession is enough to do something. Anything.
“Am I the only one who can make you come?”
“Yes, Hyunjin,” there's an inner conflict between your lust and your ego —you wish to fight back, but your mind is already surrendering. Your answer isn't far from the truth anyways, so why is it so difficult to admit it out loud? “Yes, you’re the only one”. 
“That’s what I thought,” he whispers quietly, dragging the tip of his digits along your spread thighs.
You’re aroused and whriting in anticipation, You’re aroused and trembling in anticipation, your whole body is ready for him, anything he wants to give you, and he can tell.
That's probably the worst part of it all —your mouth can always voice how much you hate him, but your body will keep on betraying you every time.
“I can’t,” you murmur, relentlessly trying to get yourself to your high, “I can't do this on my own anymore, you're the only one who can”. 
It's embarrassing to admit such a thing, both to him and yourself —it's not like you're saying so just to get what you want.
You're saying so because it's the truth, because not even you nor your toys can get you to come like Hyunjin does. 
“Remember that every time you even think about being with someone else,” Hyunjin’s body hovers over you, fitting perfectly between your open legs. “No one is going to make you feel like I can”. 
You drown a moan when you feel his clothed erection pressing against your folds. The fabric of his pants is rough, but your body unconsciously grinds on it.
“Just fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling his warmth spreading from your chest to your limbs, “please, please, please”.
He needs you just as much.
And his intention was never to deny you, but to remind you that you belong to him. Whether you want to admit it or not, whether you even know it —your body responds to Hyunjin, and Hyunjin only. 
“Patience is a virtue, you know?” He scoffs, sneaking a hand between your bodies to slide the tip of his dick against your folds, “I spent all night looking how someone else got his hands all over you”.
You tremble underneath him, begging for anything he might want to give you. 
“It wasn’t a pretty sight, you know?” Hyunjin continues, “it kills me that no one knows you're mine”. 
Your heart skips a beat at his rageful words, as you breathe the same oxygen that leaves his lungs. 
“Hyunjin”. 
“I hate the fact that I just can’t kiss you when I feel like it,” he presses his forehead against yours, taunting your lips with his. “Can’t even fuck you when I want, without caring if someone hears or not”. 
There's a pinch of frustration and despair in his voice. Like he is asking you to read between the lines, to give some sense to his words.
“We hate each other, don’t we?” You remind him, digging your nails in the flesh of the sides of his body.
“Do you really think this is hate?” He asks, and presses his hips against yours. You feel his hardened length getting coated with your wetness, and you can’t help but moan. 
“Everybody thinks we can’t stand each other,” you wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him to make a move. And as if on cue, he gets what you’re demanding —he slides the tip of his dick in, so easily that it's hard to believe your body wasn't perfectly made for him.
“But no one knows what we do behind their backs, do they?” He asks, grunting quietly when he finally bottoms out, “they don’t know how good we fuck each other, how good we make us feel”. 
It's not the time to pause and reflect about the dynamic you've shared with Hyunjin over the past year. It's also not the time to think about what could happen if you were to reveal to your closest friends what you and Hyunjin have. 
It's exciting to keep things a secret, but you're not quite sure how long you can go without one of you getting tired of it.
It's not the time, and you don't dwell on it because you soon feel Hyunjin's hips slowly pulling and then bottoming out again. The sudden hit of his pubic bone against your swollen clit sends shivers down your spine, and you hug him tightly against you.
“Because you make me feel so good,” he murmurs, leaving a wet trail of kisses from your lips, to your chin and jaw, “so fucking good”. 
You clench around him at his words, and he lets out a raw moan. 
“You too,” you swallow thickly, “you too- make me feel so good”. 
“Just me?”
“Just you Hyunjin- fuck,” you bite down the flesh on his shoulders when his hips snap against yours, making your whole body jolt, “like that, fuck me like that”. 
With painfully slow but hard strokes, Hyunjin pounds his dick inside your wet pussy.
The lewd noises it makes, paired with his skin hitting yours, drowns his bedroom. They also drown the bustle behind the door, the faint voices of those who are still outside partying and drinking.
Those who don't know how much you love fucking Hyunjin, and how much he loves fucking you.
“I have to make sure it's only me who gets to have you like this,” and with that being said, he sinks his teeth and nibbles at the flesh where burgundy and purple bruises rest. 
You arch your back in pain, feeling your neck burning. He holds you in place as you writhe beneath him, placing all his weight over you to prevent you from squirming away from him.
“It’s just a little pain,” his soft voice coos, grabbing the sides of your neck with one of his hands while his lips attack the love bites made by someone else, “nothing compared to what you made me feel tonight”.
Your heart starts beating faster at his words.
“I’m sorry,” tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you still let Hyunjin mark you. 
You want him to, anyway. No matter how painful it can be.
“I know you are,” he hums, satisfied with the way you’re clenching around him. 
He kisses your flesh softly, trying to soothe the pain away, and you move your hips, desperate to have him moving inside of you again.
He loses no time into it, holding his weight back off of you to continue on fucking you.
“You look so pretty now,” he twistedly smiles, with a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead and nose, “my lips and teeth look so good on you”. 
The minute he bites down his lower lip and his eyes go blank, you start feeling the tension building up inside your abdomen. You’re close, and you’re desperate to come.
“Hyunjin,” one of your hands holds his bicep, while the other makes a mess of the bed sheets beneath you.
“Not yet,” he warns you, and at that you let out a frustrated sound, “hold it a bit longer, come with me”. 
You close your eyes shut and kick your head back, hoping that if you don't look at him, you can prolong the time before you come. But he is fucking you so good, and his dick is hitting all the right spots inside of you, that you really don't think you can hold it as long as he wants you to.
“Please,” you cry out, this time tearing up. You can’t help it —the tears fall from your closed eyes without a warning. They stain your cheeks, and get lost in the crook of your neck that is still burning with Hyunjin’s love bites. 
“Open your eyes,” his hand cups your face, and you snap them open as a reflex, “let me see you crying”.
His words ignite a fire inside you, just as much as your tears do to him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clouded eyes and the way they beg for his release.
It’s the first time he sees you cry, 
and it shouldn't arouse him as much as it does. He knows what's behind those tears, and maybe that's the reason why he is enjoying them.
Frustration, rage, despair, attraction, obsession, infatuation.
He buries his nose on the flesh of your cheek and kisses your tears, one by one, as he continues pounding himself inside of you. 
“Can’t-” you murmur, digging your nails on his shoulders. Hyunjin hisses at that. “I can’t hold it”. 
“Give it to me,” he finally exhales, increasing the movements of his hips. And you comply —you give your orgasm to him, squeezing his cock almost aggressively. Your body trembles and he hugs it tightly, fucking you through your high as he comes with you.
“Fuck, Hyunjin,” at one point, your body goes limp —the pleasure becomes too strong that you melt into his arms. 
He moans your name, over and over again, until his voice becomes a whisper, and his hips relax into yours. His body rests on top of you, hugging you, pressing kisses to your forehead and temples while you wrap your arms around him. He doesn't pull out, and you don't want him to —at least not yet.
Sex with Hyunjin always goes a little bit like this, but it never feels as intimate as it does right now.
Your sweating bodies are pressed against each other, and your hearts are beating at the same rate. Your mouth tastes like red wine, despite you not having drunk any, and Hyunjin’s chest smells like your perfume. 
The crescent moon-like imprints from your nails are still pulsing on his shoulders and back with desire, and your neck still burns with his possessiveness.
It seems as though you two are one, and it is impossible to deny it.
If hate is another synonym for infatuation, you might as well be willing to hate each other until death.
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i-cant-sing · 4 months
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Maybe a dancer reader with your ocs, like they want to still be on stage and fight about it with your oc because they sacrificed a lot to get there and don’t want to waste it. Like how would they react would they let the darling dance on stage with limited audience or?
Hmm, here's how I think it'll go:
Eros:
He wouldnt ever stop you from enjoying life, and he loves watching you dance. Its so graceful, the way your body moves, the emotions youre expressing, its all- so impressive. Eros 100% ditches his duty at the hospital, dresses up super nice to go to the theatre where you're performing, and of course he has the best seat near the stage so you could see your no.1 hype man cheering you on. He is so proudly telling anyone and everyone that "thats my girl!" "I'm dating her! Gosh, I'm lucked out!"
Dimitri:
Probably has a theatre/stage built in his mansion for you to perform in, and the audience will be him and his men. They're all there to clap and cheer you on, but in a very careful way so as to not make Dimitri think they're attracted to you, just admiring your dance.
Its kinda weird watching all these buffed up, tattooed criminals getting front seat to your little hobby and they're all looking at you in complete awe, giving you 7 minute standing ovation, hooting as their boss gets on stage and spins you in his arms before dipping you as he gives you a passionate kiss. Ah yes, Dimitri is also a skilled dancer, though you'll now have to waltz with him for the world.
Magnus:
Guess who brings the entire cult to the show? Its crazy lover boy Magnus! You didnt want to dance, but Magnus knew about your secret hobby and he insisted that you dance for him. You turned him down, of course because you hate him, but then a little threat from the cult to pull your intestines out to hang dry, you were all game <3
At the end of your dance, he's on his knees, along with his cult, and is praising the Lord for giving him such a perfect partner.
Theodore:
You're probably still in the dark about Theo being a spy/assassin, so you dont know that the reason the entire theatre is empty except for him is because Theo used his spy agency to book out the theatre completely for "mission purposes", and you just think that nobody else showed up :( You also dont know that Theo has some guys stationed outside the theatre to knock out/shoot anyone who tries to come in.
But hey, at least your deaf bf is all supportive as he claps and gives you nods of approval at the end of your performance, as well as a big bouquet and teddy bear.
Halim Mehmat Shah:
My man, my himbo bf, he brings his entire family and his bestie Mahir to the show because um of course, this will also be your family soon when you two get married (you're not even dating him atm) so why wouldnt they come to support you????
He's cheering, he's clapping, his family has these proud beaming smiles and they all join you backstage to tell you how amazing you are and you just feel a little weird at how Halim's family, especially his parents are looking at you with such pride- your own family has never looked at you so fondly. Of course, the parents made you take pictures with Halim (and Mahir was also dragged into these photos because he's their angsty adoptive son lol).
Later, you find out that almost all the people who attended the show were connected to the Shah family somehow, and they bought tickets for everyone.
Mahir Jahangir:
He'll look up from his pile of papers, silent as you whine about wanting to dance at the theatre downtown. Mahir knows that you're an exceptionally good dancer, but he doesnt know how to explain to you that he'd much rather burn the world to the ground than let any man look at you like that.
And since he doesnt wanna sound like an insane, jealous s/o, he agrees, giving you a nod to go ahead before picking up his phone to tell his secretary to cater to your requests.
When the day of the show comes, the curtains open and all you see is Mahir and his mom sitting in the front row. They're the only audience, and Mahir's mom is ever so cheerful throughout your performance while Mahir has a soft smile, pride and awe shining in his eyes. Of course, only at the end of the show does Mahir finally clap, giving you a standing ovation as he does so. All his moves, his claps, his praise, they're all calculated, no filler words or actions that dont hold significance are used.
His mother is going on and on about how much she enjoyed the performance, while Mahir is silently waiting for his moment to tell you that he just bought the theatre and is gifting it to you <3
Baldwin:
No.1 cheerleader, has the ballroom booked for you. You'd think he'd have the ballroom empty so that he could get a private show, but no. He has his court in there, praising and clapping at how well you dance, except they're all wearing blindfolds because again- Baldwin doesnt want them to see how well his "angel" dances.
"We can feel how well you dance, your Majesty!" They say to you, but you know by now that they're all just crazy.
What you dont expect is Baldwin to get up and join you mid performance, pulling you close by the waist as he leads your body, waltzing through the entire ballroom with such finesse.
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crismakesstuff · 6 months
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so from what ive been seeing in the show so far it seems they’re gonna pair off paul with debbie and here’s why I don’t rly like it
btw in case anyone is wondering yes this happened in the comic and here’s comic paul vs show paul for comparasion
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(At least they wont have debbie fucking a hospice patient in this)
while im normally all for “yes girl get that dick” in terms of Debbie’s character it just seems ,, cheapening to chain her to another man to show she’s “whole” now. Debbie as a character/person has little to nothing to gain out of this relationship realistically. Women can live without “needing”a relationship to make them complete. Especially after what she’s gone through, like thats a 20 year relationship its gonna leave emotional scars.
Also the show seems to have this AVERSION to giving debbie actual female friends for longer than 1 scene at a time. Like im happy she has Art as a friend but she needs a woman in her life. Like I loved the scene with Olga at the start of s2 and the interaction w Carol of the SOS group but! Olga went back to Moscow and debbie can’t return to the group of bc of alana’s ugly ass ex husband. Like if they MUST pair her off with Paul just like the comic at least idk show that her past trauma is affecting her? Show her being messy and making mistakes or even Paul pointing out like “hey I don’t think you’re in the headspace for this” and breaking it off
Maybe then have debbie realize she’s better off single and begins to focus more on herself now! She could get a good friend group (or at least one female bestie pls) and in that stability of being single and with more immediate support in new friends! Show her taking up new hobbies to occupy her time outside of her job and enjoying life without ‘needing’ a partner, no characters growth should be dependent on a romantic partner!
It will make whenever nolan drags his sorry ass back to earth to see her that much more hard hitting because she doesn’t need him, he needs her. it’ll add so much more depth and struggle to him just trying to regain her trust and then if the show does do them getting back together it’ll actually feel more earned instead of happening off screen which I hated.
Also bc in the comic debbie breaks it off with paul bc after she sees nolan again she says “it didnt feel right being with paul anymore” like,, its so bs. Comic debbie has no self respect.
Ok thats all bye bye
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neetily · 1 month
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Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian
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— ✧ warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, Cheating, dubcon, Magic pocket pussy, mean sebastian, Name Calling, Cunnilingus, accidental creampie, Objectification, ruined orgasm, Fingering — ✧ word count: 7,617 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)
— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.
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Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling  insane  when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call  him  the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.
Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your  ‘playful’  comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally  dating his best friend ; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to  sister  in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that  you  moved into  his  home. More than anything he refers to you only as  brat , because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little  brat  who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.
No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.
What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s  exhausting  watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to  shut up ; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!
Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re  mean  and  you fucking know it .
Tonight, he decides to change that.
For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self.  Fuck  he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down.  It’s disgusting , the way he actually loves it.
He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you.  God , it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually   insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you  hate him . It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.
And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.
Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by  indulging . Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s  gross , because deep down he wishes it was  him .
You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan.  Fuckin’ brat,  he smiles to himself.  Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya .
It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how  he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right?  God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.
Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and  pretty , his throat immediately drying when he realises just how  attractive  it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a  replica , and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like,  how dare you  be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not  Sam . Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement.  Fuck,  okay, maybe it really  is  linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish  not  to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.
And he’s so close too,  God ; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s  right , that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs;  fuck , he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.
Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how  quiet  you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because  something  is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.
And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you  listening  to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so  perfect . The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is  real  causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.
A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you.  Pussydrunk . It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “ Dummy …” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything.  Really  making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because  fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah?  Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat.  Linked  to you in your room,  fuuuck  he wants to see your face  so bad . Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s  him  that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.
A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before  attempting  to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your  taste ,  fuck , can practically  smell  how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister  cunt—”  He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely  trembling,  shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a  good girl  for once. While he could eat you out  literally   all day  if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to  yank  him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering.  Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?
Small  haah’s  are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you.  So close , he pants to himself.  Wanna fuck you so bad , he almost whines,  for so long . Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s  close enough ; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.
And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter,  inviting him , even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of  more ; but he forces himself to resist.  Wait , he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels  so good, fuck , even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to  really  hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking  deserve .
You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so  wet  due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment.  Gross , he smiles to himself.
Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “ Shit— fuck .” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to  you . His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure  not  to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked.  Ruined , truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.
And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you  slowly , forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be  enjoying  this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how  annoyed  he is. It’s  unfair  that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “ That’s it , fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.
More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can  taste  just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on  his  cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life.  Payback,  he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so  easily , willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a  good girl  for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.
But  fuuuuck  you feel so good, nice and tight and  eager , constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.
Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know  big brother  is fucking you properly.
God  he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left  uninformed . He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding?  God , you feel too fucking good it’s  unfair , should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.
“Stupid girl —” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If—  fuck, oh my God — if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease.  Faster , too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down,  can’t , really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply  getting off , uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel  so good : and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.
“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he  almost  wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”
You have   been  such a good girl  for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve  accepted  his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel  sooo good ?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How  cute  you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding  plap!,  sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.
A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as:  Big Brother’s . It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled  sis  caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and  keeping it there , lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.
He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out,  slowly  removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be  so frustrated  to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.
He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.
Brat: Can you come help me sebby?
A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.
Sebastian: No, I’m busy.
And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:
Brat: It’s serious, please!
Sebastian: … Where are you?
It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you  really  suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for  more , needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re  so close  and you’d take  anything  at this point?
Brat: My room, please hurry.!
Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room,  your hiding place . He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side;  thankful . You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more  convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?
But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re  hiding  from him. And  oh  it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking  his  help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—
“I—  Ah! ”
Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is  actually magic , unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension  dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment —and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight,  almost  moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.
All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and  soon . Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.
“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and  needy , a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For  him . It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps,  knows  that you aren’t, fuck,  look at you ; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more.  It’s your fault , maybe if you weren’t so fucking  cute  when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.
And it would, and he  wants to see it , but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of  go away!  While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking  pretty , by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.
“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so  prettily  like that, right?
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xjulixred45x · 3 months
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Theseus(+ Asterius obvi) with Son! Reader
It is no mystery that I am a geek, that I am a Greek mythology nerd, and that precisely led me to fall HARD for Hades, and I take advantage of every aspect of the myths for my writing.
how, for example, that in the myths, Theseus had a son with an Amazon (which could be Hippolita or Antiope depending on the version), who died, and his son, Hippolytus, became one of the hero's tragedies.
Basically he was a believer of Artemis who took a vow of chastity, his stepmother fell in love with him, he rejected her, she defamed him and killed herself, Theseus found out and despised his son, even when he had an accident in his cart ( which in most versions HE CAUSED by asking Poseidon to punish his son), but when the truth is revealed Theseus goes directly to his son in his last moments to apologize (and not leave him alone in his last moments).
Although his son forgave him in the myth, I like to think that, in perspective and using the logic that they are in the Hades universe, his son did not really think he would see his father again, so although in the moment he FORGIVE HIM definitely left things tense, since Hippolytus/reader ended up in Elysium because of his devotion to Artemis (in some versions he even becomes her sidekick).
and I like to think that while Theseus IS insufferable and pompous, he definitely has a soft spot for his son, seeing him as proud to have a close relationship with the gods and wanting to dedicate his life to them. probably also when they were alive encouraged several of Hipolito/reader's more violent hobbies, even if it was a little worrying at times😅
and now that he is back in the prime of his youth in Elysium and his son is with him, let's say that Theseus "discreetly" wants to compensate for his faults in life (especially the end of his son's life), it will be a bit of a head. tough but he's not stupid to realize that he screwed up big time with his son.
They probably do bonding by sparring and sparring with each other, they fight while talking and catching up on each other's lives (or, well, "life") and when Asterius joins, he also quickly blends in as a mediator between the two if they argue (especially about a certain _incident_)
Although Theseus is proud of his son and loves him, he never shuts up. Asterius on the other hand lets the boy talk and talk and generally gives more room for his opinion, he is someone Hippolytus/reader can go to to make sure those secrets don't get out between the two of them.
Asterius would refer to Hippolytus/reader as "little one" or "little prince", CHANGE MY MIND.
IMAGINE IF HIPPOLYTUS/READER WAS A KIND OF THIRD CHAMPION OF THE ELYSIUM! Theseus would be so PROUD of his son, crying and all "they grow up so fast."
Asterius would be a little more serious, but it would probably be because he himself is holding back the urge to cry while congratulating Hippolytus/reader on his first victory in Elysium and earning his champion title.
Theseus and Asterius would take the issue of Hippolytus/reader's chastity VERY SERIOUSLY not only out of respect for Artemis, but because 1- he already had a terrible experience with women and 2- it is something very important FOR HIM, so good luck trying to approach him or, gods forbid, flirt.
although I think that if Hippolytus/reader were interested in any relationship, it would probably be one similar to that of Asterius and Theseus themselves, a "brotherly" (homoerotic) bond, someone he could consider a rival, an enemy who became into a friend, an ally, a brother, something for him.
and that's why I like the idea of pairing him with Zagreus.
1- a love interest who is not a Tsundere (Hippolytus/reader is more virgin than Olive oil, so he is quite shy).
2- it would be an interesting dynamic (How Zagreus is going to fight with this boy, son of the man he hates the most, only to realize that they have a lot in common, earning each other's respect and even their help)
and 3- THESEUS AND ASTERIUS'S REACTIONS WOULD BE HILARIOUS
Theseus would be SO CONVINCED that this DAEMON manipulated his chaste son so that he would go easy on him and lose his title. HOW DARE HE THINK HE COULD EVEN BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS HIS SON?! MUCH LESS COURT HIM!? OVER HIS DOUBLE DEAD BODY!
The only way for Theseus to understand WHY Hippolytus/reader likes Zagreus of all beings, is to use him and Asterius as an example. There he understands it, but he doesn't accept it.
Asterius, on the other hand, is much more chill about it and even approves of it, although he will definitely give Zagreus the shovel talk and assure him that if he does anything to the little prince, there will be no place in Elysium that is safe for him.
Like, Zagreus would be upset to have to go through Theseus to talk to his boyfriend, but he definitely takes advantage of the situation to make jokes about how Theseus is now his "father-in-law", making the Athenian king even more angry.
(Zagreus would definitely make the "your son calls me daddy too" joke.)
At the same time, Zag would be surprised at how good a father Theseus is when he is dead (and what he was like when he was alive, excluding the accident of course). Likewise, he would be happy to see that although Theseus is an idiot, he is not such a bad guy.
Zagreus definitely helps a little with the Hipolito/reader relationship when tensions are high, going into therapist mode again. and thanks to this I can see Theseus and Hippolytus/reader in the prologue making a good process towards healing.
I don't think there's any WAY IN HELL that Theseus will accept Zagreus as his son's mate, but with Asterius and Hippolytus/reader present, at least he's more...domesticated.
Hippolytus/reader: father! TELL HIM
Theseus: UHG, FINE....HELLspawn--ZAGREUS...WOULD YOU WANT TO STAY TO CELEBRATE THE VICTORY OF HIPPOLYTUS/READER?
Asterius: Do you want to stay forever?
Overall, it's a dysfunctional family, I'm not going to lie, but a happy one.
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ennabear · 6 months
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hii !! 🫶🏻 just discovered your account and i love it !! :) i was wondering if you could write some more headcannons about ellie? like, what job would she do? etc. i like to think that if she existed today, she'd probably be an illustrator for children's books !! that'd be so cool, tbh. i can see her making books about space or dinosaurs, and going to book fairs at schools to meet kiddos and talk to them about it. (crossover with professor!abby who used to teach little kids 🫶🏻🫶🏻) aah. sorry for rambling. but like, i just think ellie would have a blast if she existed today. like with all the museums ?? all the new ways to make art ?? but anyway !! what are *your* headcannons for modern ellie !! 🪐🫶🏻
modern!ellie’s job!! (hc) 🦕
thx for the request bae cause this made me smile so big. i have SO many hcs for modern ellie like i’ve been waiting for this moment!!!!! also dw about rambling i love to hear your thoughts 🤗
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ok for starters i think ellie would be a nerd in high school. i know that some people headcanon her as a jock or a stoner (and that ellie has a special place in my heart) but i definitely think she’d be the opposite tbh. i imagine her with only a few friends (dina, jesse, cat). and i also think she’d have insanely good grades because she’s just smart like that. and all of her teachers love her because even though she’s quiet, she’s really kind and creative.
also i think her family would be just her and joel and maybe a dog. like imagine her spending her weekends getting guitar lessons from joel and then taking her dog on a walk and documenting it in her journal. she would fr have such a blast!!!!
for college i definitely think she’d major in astronomy/astrophysics or maybe art history?? and in her last years of college, she’d get a job as a secretary for a science museum. honestly, she didn’t hate it, but she was super jealous of the tour guide because she got to take all of the cute little kids on a walk and talk about the fun stuff while ellie had to sit behind a desk all day. but after begging her supervisor enough, she’d get promoted to tour guide after the mean old lady who used to do it retired.
and guess what??? the kiddos loved her!!! she always made sure the kids were having a great time and she knew a lot about what she was talking about, whether it was dinosaurs or planets or volcanoes. and the joke book came everywhere with her!! absolutely nothing made her happier than hearing the little monsters giggling and squealing about a joke that wasn’t even that funny.
abby and ellie would become good friends because of the time abby took her class to the museum on a field trip. they ended up actually really liking each other, especially because they had so much in common. and sometimes after work they’d meet up at a bar and talk about life, it was nice for them to both have a new friend who was equally as nerdy.
ellie would be a tour guide for quite a few years while abby got her doctorate. a few years after abby became a professor, ellie tried out illustrating a childrens book for a local visitor at the museum who was really fond of ellie. it was nothing too big, but she was really proud of it.
after she finished the drawings for the book, she wanted to try writing one of her own. so she decided to write a textbook for kids about dinosaurs with her own illustrations and a joke on every page.
safe to say it was super successful!!! she ended up going to local elementary schools and educating the littles about the different types of dinosaurs and each era they lived in. and you better believe old man joel was so proud!!!! his little girl ellie that he used to take to dinosaur museums was now writing her own dinosaur books!!!
i think eventually she’d quit her job at the museum and focus on being a writer full time, along with keeping art as a hobby. and i can 100% see her getting married and adopting a kid just like joel adopted her, and she’d pass on all of her science knowledge to her mini self. also i think she’d mainly only write science textbooks for kids, but may end up publishing a sci-fi novel or two.
i think that’s all :3 thanks for the ask sweetie pie ilysm 🫶
daily click / israeli themes in tlou
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soshadysoquiet · 1 month
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More thoughts
So there's a lot of hate for the characters going on, especially Five and Lila.
Now do I hate the choices the show made for them, yes - I do not think they were truly thinking about the characters and I think they were unnecessary choices for the plot. I do not approve of several choices for the characters, but I could never hate any of the Tua characters.
This is long so rest is under the cut!
Luther: His life is a complete shambles - living in a condemned building. Luther has been seen to be savvy enough to land on his feet when thrust into the real world. His living there suggests he's lacking an ability to find somewhere to live / a support network, yet none of the siblings were worried about him or reached out to help. I thought it was odd that this was never addressed and instead he just gets mocked by Ben.
I DID like: that they brought back some of Luther's intelligence - working out the CIA was fishy. And I love that they kept up the kindness he had developed over the past few seasons and made him be so supportive. His reactions in the Five Lila reveal were hilarious.
Diego: Again, I didn't like that they made him so anti his own life an marriage, and I see a lot of people giving Lila a lot of heat and solely blaming her for the state of their relationship, whilst there are clear problems left over from S3, I do not believe that Diego's attitude would be easy to live with - not debating whether his attitude was fair or not, but to me he did not come across as supportive and doing his best until they got to go on a mission. I thought this was a pretty big disservice to his S1 character also, because Diego is clearly capable of surviving in the real world and used to it's restrictions, so for him to be the one reacting this strongly is bizarre to me. Plus I do feel that the family situation he has is one that previous-season Diego would have wanted and cherished, especially if he'd been able to have an 'out' - work or hobby - that could be where he then gets to feel a different sense of accomplishment. I would have made their season be about communicating that and them deciding where they were going to support each other (i.e. dif job for Diego, time for herself for Lila also). Also, I feel they really made him 'dumber'? Diego is insightful, open to points of view if given time, quite observant, smart at putting things together to solve a puzzle. Whilst I loved that he had his fam groaning when he put on his old outfit, the body-humour was unnecessary and irrelevant when you show a ripped man in 4 eps after that.
I DID like: Him throwing packages into windows. Him sticking his hand out to protect the passenger seat in the car like a true parent. Him winning reindeers for his kids. His enthusiasm. His love for his car, and that he still had a stubborn streak and wanted to always be in the thick of the action.
Allison: She was pretty good this season I thought, I think her and Klaus' relationship with saving him was a little bigger up this season, but we did at least see him keep returning to her in S2 and have background knowledge that they were close, so it wasn't toooo OOC for me, just a bit clumsily bigged up - make it more about her personal redemption arcs revolving around saving Whoever is closest rather than Klaus and you've got a winner that script was already written. I thought that the ending was particularly cruel on Allison, and I did not like the lazy way they retconned Ray. I also didn't love that they gave her (the only female in the siblings, I hasten to add) another damsel in distress bit at the end that took her out of play for the fight when the ceiling fell on her. Why does this always happen to Allison when if the guys get bricked on (Five) they're up and swinging. I've had thoughts about some mysogyny in the show from S3 and others, but this reminded me about it.
I DID like: Her and Claire having time together. her and Klaus. She was so funny in the horrific Five and Lila reveal moment. Love her assertive attitude in the face of their Dad. Her being the face of the cleaning brand was hilarious, and I love her defending the role to others, so funny. Her guilt over having to marigold Klaus under peer pressure too felt so very S1 Allison.
Klaus: I think the main issue I had here was that they didn't portray his powers returning very well, and it took someone else pointing it out to make me see that he got the mothers of agony dude to shoot him so he could get out of paying his debt - did not get it the first time. Also there's no explanation for how biker dude knows that because he's immortal he can summon ghosts and have them possess him for sex? Maybe he didn't and that's what the wind etc was for - a fake. But biker dude calls him a medium so IDK. Also they just piled Way too much trauma on him too quickly it felt so gratuitous, he's always been a bit of a punching bag but being tortured in S1 affected him more than all of this on top of getting his powers back for the first time in years. That we don't see if he knows how Ben died now?
I DID like: His obvious caution and desire to be reliable for Claire and himself. That we saw the negative sides of his addiction. His need for a little brown bag. His desire to be reliable for his siblings. His reactions in the Five Lila reveal were hilarious. That he floats now.
Five: Now I despised what they chose to do with the character - lazy, unnecessary, playing to fantasies and not the character's in my opinion. Would have loved to see them make Five find happiness another way, any other way - and there's a lot in the comics they could use - like him trying to set up an orphanage - how awesome would that have been to see? Do I BLAME the characters for ending up in the relationship? No, I don't think they would or should have, I don't think they were romantic and being alone with my sister for 7 years would not make me want to jump her bones. Ew, no offence to her! Now, I think that Five saw Lila as family - he even calls her that in S3E2(?) that she's family now. The writers / producers obv saw different (which is ew from Lila's end in particular given his 13yr old body when they met). I think it was a wrong choice. I can't hate the two of them for it, because I feel that there is literally some power from above that forced it - I'm going to call it insanity, but I keep being brought round to how I still wouldn't jump my sister's bones after 7 years in the apocalypse. The writers / producers basically decided 'if you're stuck alone with Anyone for 7 years, you'll sleep with them eventually!' poor, poor choice. Lord knows I pity anyone trapped with Them for 7 years now. Aside from the above, the lack of reaction to the apocalypse, the fact that we never see where he Lives, the lack of showing us how he got to where he is in the last Five years when he's an 18yr old with clearance to work solo in the CIA? I need to know How that happened. The fact that we didn't get to see him working out the subway map when he's clearly capable of it and let's be honest; the 7 years spent in the subway had to be a Doss compared to the Apocalypse - they knew stops where they could get food, they're safe below ground, he's with someone - I don't think it would have broken him half as much OR taken these two brilliant minds too long to figure it out, honestly the tube map did not look 7 years long. Plus, they would blatantly have run into the other Fives sooner - and that would have been funny. And they could have worked together. It's Bananas that they were there that long, and the time was poorly shown too. Also we never see him interact with Claire Gracie or the twins. Sadness. Anyway everything from Ep5 onwards was such a butchery that it was too poisoned to take seriously, though that's not to say the acting was bad when he faced off against Diego - he truly looked murderous.
I DID like: him gatekeeping his job from Diego - dick move, but That is a move on point for a Five who got pissed when Diego went to The Commission. Him still decisively taking action with danger / plans. That he's clearly kept close tabs on his family and spends regular time with them. His relationship Supporting Diego and Lila's marriage until The Episode. The diner full of Fives was excellent and I wish we could have spent more time with them / worked with them to realise more of their differing personalities.
Ben: I know that it was kinda amusing for Sparrow Ben to be such a dick, but for me he had no redeeming qualities, barely stepped in to save his last remaining sibling's life. I get that being in prison could make you a dick too - but he was like that before. Prison affected him Zero percent. He then drugged everyone against their will. Continued to be nothing but awful to everyone (with the Briefest pause when Klaus was actively dying) but I started and ended S4 wondering why they would treat him much differently than their abusive father. He was funny, objectively, but so awful to them and they all just took it. It would have been great to see 1% more softness towards them even, he doesn't have to become Old Ben, but there was nothing to like, though I might have forgotten bits. I would have liked to see some character development in 5 yrs, or something to justify why I should care that he gets Bennifered. Plus the Jennifer storyline was trite to me. Ben is the closest I come to 'hating' a character this season, but I don't hate him, I think the writers didn't bother considering what 5 yrs might do (if it's enough to make 2 siblings have an affair, it's enough to drastically change anyone's personality, team!), and they ended S3 showing A Ben looking so peaceful, I hoped he might get at least a little of that in S4. You can still make him a sourpuss but have Some less cruel moments.
I DID like: That he had some funny lines? Idk, he was difficult to engage with for me. No hate if you loved him though, that's just me. If I manage to rewatch ever I'll try to find more good.
Viktor: I just thought they cheaped out on his backstory a little, and I hoped he would come to realise he didn't need Reggie's approval like he thought he would - or that it was so cheaply won by saving his life, an act people do all the time, not because of Viktor's personality. I thought it was a real shame we didn't get to see him happy at all. seeing him light up in S2 was such a delight and he doesn't deserve to always look like he's suffering. He should have gotten a little bit of happiness - from his bar maybe? Something. Also another point for someone getting shot and not being shown to seek any medical care but being fiiiiiiiiiiiine...... ffs. Again, not Viktor's fault, that's the Show. Sad that he barely got to interact with Five at all.
I DID Like: Him blowing the windows in the car. Him staying on-point of the mission most of the time, well done Viktor! Good hero-ing! He had funny lines. Was nice to see him become an essential part of the team as he deserves.
Lila: Again as with Five, I can't hate her, because it's all so ludicrous. He killed her parents, her MOTHER full on says they 'had a history', that would give most people the NO for sure. Lila has also spent the last 5years watching this 13yr old grow into a 18yr old - and has kids, and I strongly believe her desire to have a family would also outweigh her desire to jump her brother's bones. Ew. I thought it was a real disservice to her character development to say that things had to go this way. I would buy her and Five 'cheating' / falling in love with someone they were stuck with for 7 years with if it was anyone outside their family. What TUA certainly Didn't need, was more psuedo-incest. I'm a bit sad that people are taking the line with Lila that as she's married and has kids then she should still be 100% faithful after 7 years no matter what. She's clearly shown to be unhappy, to her, it looks like Diego is too. How many years without someone Would it have been okay for her to hookup with? I don't think we can put a number on it. My problem is that: They decided a relationship to survive 7 years has to be romantic, and that they chose Lila and Five to do it with. For me Five is more the problem here than Lila, (in terms of characterisation) because we rightly (he's been a child in prev. seasons actor-wise whatever the POV is on character age) never see him want to engage in sexual activities, other than maybe (maybe) flirting with a waitress one time at Luther's bar? I think also telling is that Diego's actor refers to Five in an interview as Diego's "younger brother", which tells you Exactly what at least this cast member, and ergo his character from the wording considered Five to be. They see him as younger too, which makes me even more uncomfortable about it.
I DID like: that she wanted to do her own thing and still loved her kids - I think that's very valid, both her and Diego should get to have something they value outside of family. That she got her family back (though interesting how they fell in together? Would have been interesting to see That reunion) Her undercover work - very on point for her character. The moments with her and Five prior to Ep 5, which I will always choose to see as platonic, personally, for my sanity.
I just don't like hate on the characters or that X is irredeemable over Y. It personally gets me down when I see it, especially as is seems to be that some people bash one character while absolving any faults from another one.
I've been Very negative about S4, but did want to highlight some good bits in each of the characters, because I could never hate these guys, they just deserved so much better, all of them.
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muiitoloko · 3 months
Note
Halo! sorry if I bother you, I just want to know if the Eli X daughter reader has a part 3? because first and second parts already broke me and now I want to know what happened to the reader and Eli also I'm really angry with Barkley 😭
If there is a part 3, take your time ok! Bye bye!
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Title: Unspoken Words.
Summary: Many things remain unsaid in your new reality.
Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Envy and secrets.
Author's Notes: Hey there! No bother at all, I’m always happy to chat! 😄 As for Eli X daughter reader, a part 3 is definitely on the horizon. I know Barkley is the worst, right? He’s making everyone’s blood boil! 😭 So stay tuned—I promise more drama and hopefully some resolution are coming your way soon! Thanks for your enthusiasm! 🌟
First, Second and Third part here.
Also read on Ao3
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You looked out the window, observing the landscape outside the school windows. It had been a week since you had returned to school, a week of receiving pitying looks as you feared. Confined to a chair, unable to play or even write like the rest of the class, Eli and Sarah had hired a teacher and caregiver who would take care of you at school and help you with your studies. She practically did everything for you while you just talked, unable to move your limbs. You hated it. You hated all of it. You didn't want to go back to school, being isolated and watching others run and play while you were alone, with Barkley teasing you. It was all so stressful.
The teacher then announced that there would be a new student in the class and that everyone should welcome him. You watched as a short, hazel-eyed, blond boy carrying a backpack introduced himself to the class, looking quite cheerful and dorky.
"Hi everyone, my name is Sinclair Bryant, but you can all call me Clair," he said with a bright smile. "I just moved here from London, and I love reading comic books, playing video games, and collecting action figures. Oh, and my favorite superhero is Spider-Man because he's super cool and always saves the day!"
He continued to chatter excitedly, sharing more about his hobbies and interests. "I also love science, especially chemistry! My dad used to take me to science museums all the time. And did I mention I have a pet lizard named Spike? He's awesome!"
The teacher had to interrupt him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Sinclair. We're happy to have you here. Everyone, please make Clair feel welcome."
As Sinclair took his seat, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy and sadness. Here was someone who seemed so full of life and excitement, while you felt trapped in your own body, burdened by your condition.
During recess, you watched as Sinclair made his way over to a group of kids, striking up conversations and making friends with ease. He seemed to fit in so naturally, his laughter and enthusiasm infectious. You sighed, turning your gaze back to the window, feeling a sense of isolation wash over you.
That comic event had ruined everything. If only the Spider-Man statue hadn't fallen on you, you wouldn't be quadriplegic. You hated the convention, the statue, and the superhero himself for bringing you to this point.
Your caregiver, Mrs. Watson, gently tried to coax you into eating your snack. "Come on, [Your Name], you need to eat something," she urged softly, holding out a piece of fruit.
You turned your head away, refusing to open your mouth. "I'm not hungry," you muttered, your voice tinged with frustration.
Mrs. Watson sighed, a look of concern crossing her face. "I'll go get a bottle of water. I'll be right back, okay?" she said, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before walking away.
You ignored her, continuing to gaze out the window, lost in your thoughts. Moments later, Sinclair Bryant, the new boy, approached you with a curious look in his hazel eyes.
"Hey there," Sinclair began, his voice bright and cheerful. "Why aren't you eating your snack? I would never waste food!"
You turned to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed completely oblivious to your mood as he continued to babble on about food. "I love snacks. My favorite is chocolate chip cookies. What's yours?" he asked, shifting topics so quickly it made your head spin.
The bitterness in your heart grew, and you looked away, not wanting to engage. But Sinclair's next question caught you off guard.
"Do you like Spider-Man?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
"I don't," you replied bitterly, your voice cold. "I hate him."
But Sinclair didn't seem to hear the disdain in your tone. Instead, his gaze shifted to your electric wheelchair, his curiosity piqued. "Whoa, that's a cool wheelchair!" he exclaimed, leaning in closer to get a better look. "How does it work?"
His enthusiasm and ignorance about your pain only made you feel worse. Here was this boy, full of life and curiosity, unable to understand the weight of your suffering. "It's not a toy," you snapped, your voice laced with anger. "I need it because I can't move."
Sinclair's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a determined look in his eyes. "Well, it must be really handy to get around in," he said, trying to find a positive spin. "I bet you can go super fast in it!"
You glared at him, wishing he would just go away. But Sinclair's relentless optimism made it clear he wasn't leaving anytime soon. "I know it must be tough," he said more softly, his tone surprisingly earnest. "But if you ever want to talk about comic books or anything, I'm here."
You stared at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. There was something genuine in his eyes that made you pause. Despite your bitterness, you couldn't help but feel a tiny flicker of warmth at his words. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone would treat you with pity or scorn.
After a moment of awkward silence, Sinclair walked away, his curiosity still lingering. As he returned to the group of new classmates, he couldn't help but glance back at you, seeing the sadness in your eyes as you stared out the window.
"Hey, who is she?" He asked one of the boys, nodding in your direction.
The boy, eager to share the latest gossip, leaned in and whispered, "That's [Your Name] Michaelson. She's Barkley's twin sister."
Another girl chimed in, her voice tinged with pity, "Yeah, she's crippled. My mom said it's the worst thing that could happen to someone, not being able to move."
The kids continued to gossip, their voices low but filled with speculation and sympathy. Sinclair, however, tuned them out. His eyes were fixed on you, observing the way the sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on your hair and making your eyes shine. In that moment, he thought you looked beautiful, despite the sadness etched into your features.
Sinclair made up his mind right then and there. He decided he was going to be your friend, no matter what. You needed someone who didn't see you as a burden or an object of pity, and Sinclair felt he could be that person.
As the bell rang, signaling the end of recess, Sinclair approached you once more. This time, he wore a determined expression. "Hey, [Your Name]," he said softly, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things are tough right now, but if you ever want to talk about comic books, or just anything, I'm here. And... I think Spider-Man is pretty cool, but maybe we can find another hero that you like."
You didn't respond, but Sinclair wasn't deterred. He gave you a small, encouraging smile before heading back to class, already planning ways to make you smile. He was determined to break through the walls you had built around yourself and show you that you didn't have to face this new reality alone.
As the school day ended, you navigated your electric wheelchair toward the exit, Mrs. Watson walking alongside you. The routine was familiar by now, but it didn't make it any easier. You were already dreading the evening ahead, knowing it would be another night of frustration and resentment.
Just as you reached the school entrance, you heard a voice calling out, "Hey, wait up!" You turned slightly, recognizing Sinclair Bryant running toward you, his backpack bouncing on his back. Mrs. Watson paused, giving Sinclair a polite smile as he approached.
"Hello, Mrs. Watson," Sinclair greeted warmly before turning his attention to you. "Hey, [Your Name]. I wanted to ask you something."
You looked at him with a mix of curiosity and irritation. "What do you want, Bryant?" you asked, your tone clipped.
Sinclair's smile didn't falter. "I was wondering if you wanted to be friends with me. I think we could have a lot of fun together."
You felt a surge of bitterness well up inside you. "No," you replied flatly, already starting to move your wheelchair again.
But Sinclair wasn't easily deterred. He trotted alongside you, talking a mile a minute. "Oh, come on, being friends with me has lots of perks! I love comic books, so we could talk about our favorite heroes. And I have a pet lizard named Spike, who's really cool. Plus, my dad takes me to science museums all the time, and I could tell you all about the stuff I see there. And I'm really good at video games, so I could teach you some tricks!"
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how his enthusiasm never wavered. He genuinely seemed to enjoy talking, filling every silence with his animated chatter. Despite yourself, you found a tiny part of you appreciating his persistence, even if you didn't want to admit it.
"We're friends now, you know," Sinclair insisted, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Whether you like it or not, I'm going to be around."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help a small smile from tugging at your lips. Sinclair's energy was infectious, even if you weren't ready to admit it.
As you reached the school entrance, Sinclair suddenly stopped talking. His eyes lit up as he spotted someone waiting for him – a well-dressed man standing beside a sleek car. "There's my butler!" Sinclair exclaimed happily. He turned back to you, his smile even brighter. "See you tomorrow, pretty girl!" With that, he dashed off, his backpack swinging wildly behind him.
Mrs. Watson looked down at you with a soft smile. "He seems like a good boy, [Your Name]. Full of energy and kindness."
You huffed irritably, turning your gaze away. "He's just feeling sorry for me," you muttered, unwilling to acknowledge the warmth Sinclair's words had stirred within you.
As you and Mrs. Watson made your way to your own car, you couldn't help but replay Sinclair's words in your mind. Maybe, just maybe, his offer of friendship wasn't solely out of pity. But for now, you weren't ready to let your guard down. The walls around your heart remained firmly in place, even as a small crack of hope began to form
Meanwhile, on the way home, Sinclair chatted animatedly with his butler, James, who was driving the sleek car through the busy streets.
"So, Master Clair, how was your first day at the new school?" James asked, glancing at Sinclair through the rearview mirror.
Sinclair's cheerful demeanor dimmed slightly. "It was okay, I guess. I don't like it that we're always moving around. It's hard to make new friends when you're constantly changing schools."
James nodded understandingly. "I know it's tough, Master Clair. But your father did say this would be the last time, didn't he?"
"Yeah, he did," Sinclair replied with a sigh. "I hope he means it this time."
"Did you make any new friends today?" James inquired, trying to lift Sinclair's spirits.
Sinclair's face brightened again. "Yes, I did! I made a few friends, and there's this one girl... she's really pretty. We're friends now."
James smiled knowingly, catching Sinclair's excitement in the rearview mirror. "Oh, really? What's her name?"
"[Your Name]," Sinclair said with a big grin. "But... there's something different about her. She's in a wheelchair."
James's expression softened as he continued to drive. "Is she now? That must be challenging for her."
Sinclair nodded, his enthusiasm undiminished. "Yeah, I heard some kids saying she's... quadriplegic," he said, stumbling slightly over the word.
James glanced back at Sinclair, his curiosity piqued. "Quadriplegic, you say? Do you know what that means, Master Sinclair?"
Sinclair shook his head, looking a bit puzzled. "Not really. What does it mean, James?"
James took a moment to think, choosing his words carefully. "Well, Sinclair, being quadriplegic means that she can't move her arms or legs. It's usually due to a serious injury to her spinal cord. It can make life very difficult, but it doesn't change who she is as a person."
Sinclair's eyes widened with a mix of understanding and sadness. "Oh, that's really tough. No wonder she seemed so sad. But I still want to be her friend. Maybe I can help her feel better."
James smiled warmly at Sinclair's determination. "That's a wonderful attitude to have, Master Sinclair. I'm sure she could use a friend like you. Just remember to be kind and patient. Sometimes people need a little extra time to open up when they're going through something difficult."
Sinclair nodded earnestly. "I will, James. I promise. I want her to know that she's not alone and that she can still have fun and be happy."
As they continued their journey home, Sinclair's mind was filled with thoughts of how he could be a good friend to you, determined to bring some joy and comfort into your life despite the challenges you faced
Meanwhile, at your own home, Eli welcomed you and Barkley, saying goodbye to Mrs. Watson as she left for the day. He greeted you both warmly, his eyes filled with concern as he asked about your school day. Barkley eagerly began to recount his adventures, his voice full of excitement, but you remained silent, ignoring your father and avoiding his gaze.
"Go wash your hands, Barkley," Eli instructed, his tone gentle but firm. Barkley obeyed quickly, running up the stairs to his bedroom. Meanwhile, you pressed the button on your wheelchair and navigated through the house to your bedroom, which was now separate from your brother's. Since Barkley's bedroom was upstairs and you couldn't go there alone, your new room was downstairs, converted from Eli's old office.
Eli followed you into your bedroom, his expression filled with a mix of determination and sadness. He knelt beside your wheelchair, helping you take off your sneakers with practiced care. "Mrs. Watson told me you didn't want to eat again today," he said softly, his voice tinged with worry.
You remained silent, staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. Eli's heart ached at your stubborn refusal to engage with him. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his frustration in check. "Sweetheart, I know this is hard for you," he continued, his voice gentle but firm. "But you need to eat to stay strong. We want to help you, but we can't do that if you don't take care of yourself."
You turned your head away, the silence between you stretching uncomfortably. Eli reached out to gently touch your shoulder, his fingers trembling slightly. "Please, [Your Name]," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Talk to me. Let me help you."
But you remained resolute, your eyes fixed on the wall as you shut him out. Eli sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his own helplessness. He stood up slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of how to break through the barrier you had built around yourself.
"I'll be right back with dinner," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and sadness. "I hope you'll join us at the table."
As Eli left your room, his heart heavy with the pain of your silence, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret. He vowed to find a way to reach you, to show you that you were not alone in this struggle. But for now, all he could do was hope that one day, you would let him back into your world.
Eli moved to the kitchen, his mind a whirlwind of emotions as he prepared dinner for the children. The familiar tasks of washing vegetables, boiling water, and setting the table offered a brief respite from the turmoil in his heart. He meticulously prepared each dish, making sure everything was just right. Barkley, already seated at the table, was eagerly flipping through his comic book, his excitement bubbling over as he waited for Eli to join him.
Eli placed Barkley's plate in front of him and forced a smile. "Here you go, champ," he said, his voice warm despite his inner turmoil. Barkley looked up, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.
"Dad, can I tell you about this cool comic I read today?" Barkley asked, his voice brimming with excitement. "It's about a hero who—"
"Sure, buddy," Eli interrupted, nodding as he set the table. "I'd love to hear about it."
Though Eli didn't understand the appeal of superheroes, he was grateful for the distraction Barkley provided. He listened intently, trying to keep up with the details, even if they felt foreign to him. The animated way Barkley described the hero's adventures was a stark contrast to the heavy silence that often surrounded his interactions with you.
As he finished setting the table, Eli called you to dinner. The soft hum of your electric wheelchair grew louder as you navigated into the dining room. The sound was a constant reminder of the changes in your life, a reminder that cut through Eli every time he heard it.
You approached the table, and Eli quickly moved to help you get settled. He placed your plate in front of you and took his seat next to you, ready to assist with feeding you. Your eyes, still avoiding his, were focused on your plate.
Eli hesitated, his heart aching as he watched you struggle with your emotions. "Mom's working late tonight," he said gently, anticipating your question. "She’ll be home later."
You nodded slightly, acknowledging his answer but remaining silent. Eli’s heart clenched at your reticence. He knew that mealtime was often a battleground, a time when your frustration and resentment surfaced most strongly.
Across the table, Barkley continued to chatter enthusiastically about his comic book, oblivious to the tension between you and Eli. "And then the hero used his super strength to lift this huge truck! It was so cool!"
Eli forced a smile, trying to engage with Barkley's excitement. "That does sound pretty amazing, Barkley," he said, though his attention kept drifting back to you. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness as he watched you silently chew your food, refusing to meet his gaze.
Desperate to include you in the conversation, Eli tried to bridge the gap. "So, [Your Name], anything interesting happen at school today?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and anxiety.
You remained silent, your expression closed off. Eli's smile faltered, his frustration mounting. He didn’t want to push you, but the constant silence was wearing on him. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged softly. "You can tell me anything."
Your jaw tightened, a flicker of anger passing over your face. You looked up briefly, your eyes meeting Eli's with a mixture of defiance and hurt. "Nothing happened," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just leave me alone."
Eli's heart sank, a wave of frustration crashing over him. He clenched his fists under the table, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "I'm just trying to help," he said, his voice strained. "I want to know what's going on in your life."
You turned your head away, refusing to engage. The silence stretched painfully, the tension thickening in the air. Eli's frustration simmered beneath the surface as he attempted to focus on feeding you. The silence between you grew heavier with each passing moment, making the simple act of eating feel like an insurmountable task.
Barkley, sensing the tension but too caught up in his excitement to fully grasp its gravity, interrupted eagerly. "Dad, there's a new kid in our class!" he announced, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "His name is Sinclair Bryant, and he's really cool. He likes comics too, and guess what? His favorite hero is—"
"Enough, Barkley!" Eli snapped, his voice sharp and cutting off his son mid-sentence. Barkley recoiled slightly, confusion and hurt flickering across his face. Eli immediately regretted his harsh tone but couldn't bring himself to apologize. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Let's not talk about heroes right now, okay? Let's just focus on dinner."
Barkley nodded reluctantly, his excitement dimming as he returned to his meal. Eli turned his attention back to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. He carefully scooped up a spoonful of food, bringing it to your lips. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "You need to eat something."
You turned your head away, your expression hardening. "I'm not hungry," you muttered, your voice barely audible. The defiance in your tone only fueled Eli's growing frustration.
Eli's patience, already frayed, snapped under the weight of your rejection. He grabbed your chin firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced you to look at him. His eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You will eat," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I’m tired of this. I’ve tried to be patient, but I can't take it anymore. I won't let you destroy yourself. You’ll eat, even if I have to shove the food down your throat."
Your eyes widened in shock and fear, tears spilling over as you struggled to free your chin from his grip. "I hate you!" you cried, your voice breaking with emotion. "I hate you, Daddy!"
Eli's heart clenched painfully at your words, but he didn't release his hold. His grip tightened slightly, his frustration and helplessness boiling over. "Hate me all you want," he snapped, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "But I won't let you waste away. You need to eat, and you will eat."
The tears streamed down your cheeks as you continued to struggle, your small body shaking with sobs. The sight of your distress cut Eli deeply, but he forced himself to hold firm. He knew he had to be strong, even if it meant being the villain in your eyes.
"Please, sweetheart," Eli murmured, his voice softening slightly as he tried to rein in his anger. "I just want to help you. I don't want to see you suffer like this."
You continued to cry, your sobs echoing through the room as you finally stopped struggling, defeated by your own helplessness. Eli's grip on your chin loosened, and he carefully brought the spoon to your lips once more.
"Open your mouth," he instructed gently, his voice strained with emotion. "Please, just a little bit. For me."
With tears still streaming down your face, you reluctantly opened your mouth, allowing him to feed you. Eli's heart ached with a mixture of relief and sorrow as you finally took a bite, your small frame trembling with the effort.
Eli continued to feed you in silence, his own tears threatening to spill over as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each bite felt like a victory tinged with defeat, a painful reminder of the gulf that had grown between you.
Across the table, Barkley watched in silence, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. The usually lively dinner table had become a battleground, and the weight of the unspoken tensions hung heavily in the air.
As Eli finished feeding you, he set the spoon down with a shaky hand, his heart heavy with the weight of your words. He reached out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch tender despite the turmoil in his heart.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I just... I can't stand to see you like this."
You turned your head away, the pain and anger still etched into your features. Eli's heart ached with the realization that his attempts to help had only driven a deeper wedge between you. As he sat back in his chair, the silence between you stretched unbearably, a chasm of pain and regret that seemed impossible to bridge.
In that moment, Eli felt the full weight of his failure as a father, his heart breaking under the strain of your suffering. He had wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harsh realities of the world, but in his desperation, he had only succeeded in pushing you further away.
As the darkness of the evening settled around them, Eli could only hope that someday, somehow, he would find a way to reach you, to heal the wounds that had been inflicted by the cruel hand of fate. But for now, all he could do was hold on to the fragile thread of hope that bound you together, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.
Later that evening, the house was cloaked in the quiet calm that settled after dinner. Eli carefully navigated you from the living room to your bedroom, your electric wheelchair gliding smoothly across the polished floors. The day had taken its toll, and you were visibly weary. He gently helped you into bed, tucking the blankets around you with a tenderness that belied the day's frustrations.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Eli whispered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and sorrow as he kissed your forehead.
You stared at the ceiling, your eyes betraying the turmoil within, but you didn't respond. Eli sighed softly, standing up and turning off the light, casting the room into a soft, comforting darkness.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Barkley was engrossed in his video game, his small hands deftly maneuvering the controller as he battled digital foes on the screen. The flashing lights and triumphant music filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy silence in your bedroom.
Eli moved to the kitchen, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He started washing the dishes, the rhythmic sound of water and clinking cutlery providing a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of his thoughts.
"Dad!" Barkley's voice called out from the living room, his tone eager and filled with anticipation. "Come play video games with me!"
Eli paused, his hands submerged in soapy water. He glanced toward the living room, feeling a pang of guilt at Barkley's request. "I don’t know how to play those games, Barkley," Eli called back, his voice tired but gentle.
Barkley’s face scrunched in disappointment as he peeked into the kitchen. "I can teach you, Dad. It’s really fun. Just give it a try."
Eli shook his head, his focus returning to the dishes. "Not tonight, Barkley. We can play something else later, okay?"
A frown creased Barkley's face, and he grumbled under his breath, his frustration bubbling over. "You'd play with me if I were the cripple."
Eli froze, his hands stilling in the sudsy water. The air seemed to crackle with tension as he slowly turned to face Barkley, his eyes wide with shock and anger. "What did you just say?" Eli's voice was low, trembling with restrained fury.
Barkley met his father's gaze defiantly, his small chin jutting out in stubborn resolve. "You always pay more attention to [Your Name]. Never to me. If I were the cripple, you'd play with me. But you don't care about me."
Eli's hands trembled as he set the dish aside, drying them hastily on a towel. He moved towards Barkley, his heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "How dare you talk like that, Barkley?" Eli demanded, his voice a harsh whisper as he knelt to look his son in the eye. "Do you understand how hurtful that is? Your sister is going through something terrible, and she needs us."
Barkley's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his lips trembling as he tried to hold onto his defiance. "She’s always getting all the attention. I can run, I can play, but nobody cares about that! I hate her! I wish she would just go away!"
Eli felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him. His heart ached at Barkley's words, the raw emotion in his son's voice cutting through him like a knife. "Barkley," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, "I know this is hard for you too. But wishing harm on your sister isn’t the answer. You have to understand, we love you both."
But Barkley's resentment only seemed to deepen. "You don’t get it, Dad. She takes everything! You never have time for me anymore. I wish she would die!"
Eli recoiled as if struck, his breath catching in his throat. The words echoed painfully in the quiet kitchen, hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "Enough!" Eli's voice broke, a mixture of anger and heartbreak etched into every syllable. "Go to your room. Now."
Barkley’s face crumpled, but he held his ground for a moment, his eyes flashing with a final spark of defiance. Then, with a choked sob, he turned and ran upstairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Eli stood frozen in the kitchen, his mind reeling with the weight of Barkley’s words. The dishes lay forgotten in the sink, the water growing cold as Eli grappled with the bitter reality of his son's resentment. The enormity of the situation pressed down on him, threatening to crush the fragile hope he clung to so desperately.
As the house settled into an uneasy silence, Eli's thoughts turned to you, lying alone in your room, and to Barkley, wrestling with his own tumultuous emotions upstairs. The fragile balance of their family had been shattered, and Eli could only wonder how they would ever find a way to heal the wounds that had torn them apart.
Sarah arrived home later that evening, her expression tense and her movements restless. Eli wasted no time in approaching her, his face etched with the weight of the day’s turmoil. He saw the briefcase she carried, a constant reminder of the hours she spent at work, and the exhaustion in her eyes mirrored his own.
"Sarah, did you find out anything?" Eli asked urgently, his voice filled with the desperate need for answers. He grasped her arm lightly, searching her face for any hint of hope. "Can we sue the organizers? They need to be held accountable for what happened to [Your Name]."
Sarah’s eyes darted away, and she hesitated, wringing her hands nervously. The soft light of the hallway cast long shadows across her face, accentuating her unease. She took a deep breath, her shoulders tense as she met Eli's gaze.
"Eli," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I went to the convention center today. I spoke with their security team and asked to see the footage from the cameras." She paused, her eyes flickering with an emotion Eli couldn't quite place.
"And?" Eli pressed, his anxiety mounting as he watched her closely. "What did you find out? Can we hold them responsible for what happened to our daughter?"
Sarah swallowed hard, her hands twisting the strap of her purse. She took a step back, her eyes clouded with a mysterious, almost evasive look. "It’s not what we thought," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "The footage... it shows that [Your Name] caused the accident herself."
Eli's breath caught in his throat, and he stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice rising with a mix of anger and confusion. "How could she cause her own accident? She’s just a child!"
Sarah flinched at his tone, her fingers tightening around the purse strap. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke. "She was playing around the Spider-Man statue," she explained, her voice strained. "The footage shows her climbing on it, trying to... I don’t know, maybe get a better look or something. It wasn’t stable, and it fell."
Eli felt the ground shift beneath him, his mind reeling with the implications of her words. "No," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "That can’t be right. [Your Name] wouldn’t do something like that. She’s careful, always has been."
"I know," Sarah said, her voice cracking with emotion. "But that’s what the footage shows, Eli. I watched it multiple times. It was an accident, but it was... it was her own doing." Her hands trembled, and she glanced around the room as if searching for something to ground her.
Eli staggered back, his legs threatening to give way as the weight of the revelation crushed him. He sank into a nearby chair, his head in his hands as he tried to process the news. The image of his daughter, broken and confined to a wheelchair, flashed before his eyes, and he felt a wave of grief and guilt wash over him.
"No," he murmured, his voice barely audible as he struggled to contain his tears. "I can’t believe this. It can’t be true."
Sarah approached him cautiously, her movements slow and deliberate. She reached out to touch his shoulder, her fingers cold against his skin. "I’m so sorry, Eli," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet sorrow. "I know how hard this is to hear. But there’s no one to sue, no one to blame. It was just a terrible accident."
Eli looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and anguish. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, strangled by the knot of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Sarah’s gaze was steady, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something Eli couldn’t quite identify.
"Why are you so nervous, Sarah?" he asked finally, his voice trembling with suspicion. "You’re not telling me everything, are you?"
Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced away, her hands twisting in her lap. "I’m just... I’m worried about [Your Name]," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "This whole situation is tearing us apart, and I don’t know how to fix it."
Eli watched her closely, his mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions. He wanted to believe her, to find solace in her words, but a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. There was something in her demeanor that didn’t quite add up, a shadow of unease that lingered just beneath the surface.
But Eli shook his head, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall the events of that day. “No, Sarah,” he said, his voice firm despite the tremor of doubt creeping in. “I remember clearly. She wasn’t climbing anything. She was sitting on the ground, playing with her Doctor Octopus doll. I had just left the diner and saw it happen. The statue fell on her while she was sitting on the floor, not climbing the statue.”
Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of panic flashing across her features before she quickly masked it. Her hands twisted the strap of her purse more tightly, her knuckles white. “Eli, you were so shaken that day,” she insisted, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. “You don’t know what you were thinking. It was chaotic and traumatic. Maybe you just misremembered.”
Eli ran a hand through his hair, his confusion deepening as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory. “I saw it, Sarah,” he repeated, his voice growing more uncertain. “I saw the statue fall on her. I don’t remember much else, just the pain and the sight of her bruised and broken...”
He trailed off, his eyes searching Sarah’s face for any sign of reassurance. But instead of comfort, he found only a deepening sense of unease. Sarah’s evasiveness, her refusal to meet his gaze, only heightened his suspicion that there was more to the story than she was letting on.
Sarah shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape. “Eli, I know you’re struggling with this,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mysterious, almost desperate urgency. “But you have to trust me. I watched the footage myself. There’s no one else to blame. It was just a tragic accident.”
Eli felt a cold knot of doubt twist in his stomach. His own memories were hazy, clouded by the overwhelming shock and grief of that day. He remembered the statue falling, the sickening thud as it struck you, and the sight of your small, bruised body beneath the wreckage. But beyond that, everything was a blur of pain and confusion.
He looked at Sarah, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read the expression on her face. “Why are you so nervous, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and probing. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Sarah’s eyes flickered with a momentary flash of guilt, but she quickly averted her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m just worried about [Your Name],” she repeated, her voice trembling slightly. “This whole situation is tearing us apart, Eli. We need to focus on helping her, not on dredging up painful memories.”
Eli clenched his fists, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He wanted to believe Sarah, to trust that she was telling him the truth. But the nagging doubt in the back of his mind refused to be silenced. Something about her demeanor, the way she avoided his gaze, made him question everything he thought he knew.
“I’m going to get some air,” Eli muttered, his voice tight with frustration as he turned away from Sarah and headed for the door. “I need to clear my head.”
As he stepped outside, the cool evening air washed over him, providing a brief respite from the turmoil churning inside him. He leaned against the railing, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting memories and emotions. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something crucial he was missing, some piece of the puzzle that had yet to fall into place.
Meanwhile, inside the house, Sarah sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she clutched her purse. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with the fear that Eli was getting too close to the truth. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself as she tried to think of a way to keep her secrets hidden.
Unbeknownst to both of them, Barkley stood at the top of the stairs, his small frame hidden in the shadows as he listened to their conversation. His eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and guilt, his heart pounding as he replayed the events of that fateful day in his mind.
He had been jealous, consumed by the belief that you always stole Eli’s attention. In a fit of anger and resentment, he had pushed the Spider-Man statue, not realizing the terrible consequences his actions would have. And now, as he watched his parents struggle with their own confusion and grief, Barkley’s guilt gnawed at him, a silent, unbearable weight he carried alone.
As Eli stood outside, lost in thought, and Sarah grappled with her own fears inside, Barkley retreated to his room, his mind swirling with the realization that the truth he held could shatter their family even further. And in the quiet darkness of the house, the weight of that secret hung heavy, casting a long shadow over them all.
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guess-that-ship · 27 days
Text
S12 Round 2*
Dad's little successor
A single father and his daughter. It's no doubt that family is the main thing keeping the man afloat. He's straightforward and serious, but whenever he's around his kid, you can finally catch him smiling. On top of everything, they bond over the same… hobby? Kid has a huge interest in her dad's job, dreaming about being like him when she grows up. And it's very likely, since she puts a lot of effort into following her goal. One problem is that the job may be pretty dangerous at times, and her dad is one of those parents that worries about every single detail in their kid's life, especially when it comes to their safety. Still, he wouldn't be able to bear hurting her feelings, so her talent and enthusiasm thrive as dad lets her take a look at real work he has to deal with, with the exception that he always stays near to be in control of any potential danger. One big problem is that the father hates his job. It sucks life out of him, and it's the actual reason for his strict personality. Outside of work, he's a loving parent always thinking about spending quality time with his child, sometimes doing embarrassing things for her enjoyment. However, at work he often deals with people's worst side. Aside from that, it leaves little to no space in his schedule for rest. All of this means that watching over his daughter participating in his job is a rare chance to spend time together. Not allowing his personal experience break daughter's dreams, he still can't help but stay focused at work. Sometimes it may seem like he's too cold about her achievements, but in the end he will always and let her know how impressive her work is and that he's proud of her.
Old(ish) men one-sided yaoi
cw: spoilers
They are childhood best friends who swore they would always work together and never let the competitiveness for the job they both wanted get in the way of that… until character B gets a girlfriend and gets her pregnant and decides he will give up on that dream for his new dream: marry his gf and be a family man. Character A gets really hurt by this and cuts all contact immediately, swearing he will never forgive him.
Years later character A gets the job they both wanted and goes on to live his life wishing him and character B could meet again, but still being incredibly stuck in the past and hating him all the same. A then meets B's grandson due to work-related reasons and they end up working together but A is so petty that at the first disagreement they have he tries to beat the shit out of him. He later realizes he's just a nice, honest kid who is honestly kind of insane and it reminds him of B, so he let's him leave and decides to visit B.
B is really really exited to see A, who in his head is like "I hate you but I love you and I missed you but fuck you", and then they have a nice hug where A thinks about how gentle and kind B is and feels dumb for how he acted… until A tries to beat the shit out of him. They semi-reconcile and end up meeting up more tho, and B makes it abundantly clear again that he is very happy to reunite with A.
They later team up because they're worried about B's grandson and have a very meaningful talk where B reassures A that overall he has made a good impact on society and is doing a good job. A also realizes that he can't keep dwelling on the past and that B was not evil for deciding to change his plans for the future and go after the love of his now dead wife.
*Ship does not have to be romantic.
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takeachillpillshawty · 3 months
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I realized I haven't posted this but here it is.
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[Ignihyde Dorm]
Magnus Orpheus
Grade\Class: Junior \ Class E (No. 1)
Birthday: February 14 (Aquarius)
Age: 19
Height: 185cm
Dominate hand: left
Homeland: Shaft lands
Club: Film research club
Best subject: Flight
Hobbies: foraging
Pet peeves: loud parties
Favorite food: Pomegranate seeds
Least Favorite food: any alcoholic beverages
Talent: Lock picking
Magnus is a young man that carries himself with a stoic manner, despite being the Vice Housewarden of Ignihyde he strives to help his dorm mates live a healthy life outside of technology even if it means dragging the Housewarden by the hair for a meeting.
Background: Magnus was always a hard working man, though he has a bad habit of putting others first before him, whether it be out of love or pity. Due to his parents 'spending habits' Magnus went into the work force at the young age of 16, helping pay the bills and also fund his parents lifestyle. Parties upon parties leaving the house a mess in the morning for him to clean, but the love Magnus have for his parents was stronger than his hatred of their 'bad habits'.
Unfortunately his parents would go in dept with the S.T.Y.X. for unknown reasons, the panic and fear in there eyes was enough to twist Magnus' heart. He decided to take on their dept resulting in him working for S.T.Y.X. specifically as the upcoming director's assistant, Idia Shroud. Magnus didn't get along with Idia at first, but slowly he accepted that this was his life now. He attended NRC along with him to ensure his safety.
Relationships with other Characters:
Riddle- Magnus sees himself in Riddle, how he used to bend backward for his parents happiness and not his own. He tries to encourage Riddle to enjoy what's left of his life here in NRC and make happy memories to look back on.
Kalim- Despite wanting his dorm mates to be more social, Magnus is a hypocrite when it comes to taking his own advice. Just because he looks extroverted doesn't mean he is, unfortunately he can't say no to Kalim, especially with those big ole eyes. Whenever he's at one of his parties he tend to be away from the crowd and near a food bar or anywhere devoid of people. Parties like this reminds him of the same ones his parents used to throw but less violent and noisy. All in all, he prefers not to socialize.
Vil- Magnus usually goes to Vil whenever it came to make up.
Idia- He doesn't hate Idia despite his initial attitude towards him, but wished he met him under different circumstances.
Trivia:
° Magnus' unique magic is 'Phantom Phenomena' inspired by Meg's soul traveling down the underworld. Magnus has the ability to turn into a ghost like apparition, able to phase through walls and disappear. This first manifested as an out of body experience when he was a child but managed to fully control it during his second year at NRC.
° Magnus' birthday is on Valentine's day.
° Magnus' last name 'Orpheus' is taken from Orpheus, the man who traveled the underworld to save his beloved from death only to loose her again. This can also describe what Meg went through.
° Due to his unique magic Magnus is almost always cold, no matter how hot the weather is, and the cool temperature in Ignihyde is not helpful. Luckily he received a scarf and gloves as birthday gifts from Riddle.
° it's hinted that Magnus' parents are heavy gamblers.
° Magnus was accepted at RSA, his dream school... but had to decline as he was already registered along with Idia to NRC.
° When asked what would he do if the dept to S.T.Y.X. lifted from him, Magnus stated "I'd cut my parents out of my life and Start a new one."
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cacticassie · 10 months
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do you have any headcanons for the ggy trio?
Tysm for asking this aughhhh
I'm only gonna go over Greg in relation to the other two because Gregory alone I talk about headcanons for a lot, and he's included in the post about the 3 star fam headcanons. So yeah
I just made a separate post for my sorta headcanons for GGY specifically, which you can find here.
Greg was a really good friend before being glitchtrapped. He was during it, too, but that was Rab playing an act. He's a super sweet kid, despite everything
Greg would give Tony his own pocket money sometimes. "I get a lot of it, and you need it more than me." Tony didn't like to accept it, but Gregory is a persistent person.
Greg would always help Ellis with the arcades he wasn't very good at. "I learned this strat, actually...."
Gregory would get them both snacks and sneak them under the desks in class, the trio eating them when the teacher wasn't watching. This was especially the case if Ellis seemed less hyper in class or Tony was particularly quiet.
Gregory was extremely helpful and kind with Tony when his dad got locked up. He was there for him. Ellis is better at lightening the mood, but Gregory is good at real comfort and supportive words
They're all there for each other. Gregory fights when people pick on his friends, which is rare-ish-- they don't really get bullied-- but it still happens, and Greg gets hurt. He gets anxious. But then Ellis and Tony are there. Tony's awful attempts at comfort make Gregory laugh, while Ellis is naturally good at making people smile
The trio balances each other out perfectly, and it makes things easier in school! Sometimes, Tony needs to lighten up and see the bigger picture. Sometimes, Gregory needs to relax and take things slower. Sometimes, Ellis needs to be brought back to earth a little.
Ellis has a pretty normal life. He doesn't have any particular bad shit going on, only the losing his two besties thing in the case of canon. His home life is okay, though; he has a caring mother and a little sister he enjoys taking care of, despite her attitude sometimes-- It's small, and it's nice. His dad is usually away at work, but he finds time for his family.
Ellis has as much monty merch as he can possibly get, but he insists on winning it himself at the Plex instead of just finding it on amazon or whatever.
Tony's secret opinion on Ellis would be so heartbreaking for him. Ellis would be devastated to find Tony doesn't like his silly side. It'd drive him away, "Wow, man. Okay. I'll find new friends, you can have Greg all to yourself. Enjoy it."
If Gregory knew about it, he would side with Ellis. He'd be angry, but also try to help Tony loosen up. "Hey, you don't have to be super mature yet. You're so young. Trust me, you should enjoy being a kid before you force yourself to grow up. Being forced into growing up sucks, I promise." Tony would hate the fact that it sounds like he's talking from experience.
Tony loves music! His dad liked music, and he could play guitar, so Tony likes music and wants to learn to play. He also wants to learn piano. He learned like 2 meme songs on piano to impress people in music class and almost got detention (tryhard)
Tony listens to music mainly at the moment. He wants to learn to write songs. He doesn't wanna be a songwriter-- He's still set on investigative journalism. It's just a hobby
He'd write lemon demon type shit mixed with like uhhh. Idk. Less silly, more serious stuff. Imagine Cabinet Man, but it's about an arcade controlling a person, and it's slower and more ominous sounding (the GGY song)
He listens to songs his dad likes, often. Reminds him of him. He misses him every day, and it's a way of escaping. He usually listens to music late at night, and he thinks... just thinks.
Gregory is the one who got Tony into cheesy 80s music instead of mf. The Clash and The Cure, which his dad likes. "Should I stay or should I.... Nah. Listen to this." He hands the phone back and it's playing Material Girl
Speaking of, Gregory loves 80s music! Ellis loves hard rock and punk music. They really do reflect their glamrock faves in terms of favourite music genre!
They'd have a collab playlist that they can all add music to, and Gregory always quietly adds things he thinks are funny. Tony got 'How Bad Can I Be' blasting in his ears one day and turned to see Gregory and Ellis giggling away nearby.
Gregory adds real songs. Some really good ones. But then he also adds it's raining tacos 60 times. They played it on a speaker once, and when it's raining tacos started playing, Gregory turned it up so it blasted through the cafeteria. All 3 of them got detention
The trio definitely snuck into a show at the Pizzaplex. Yeah, two of them can afford it, but what's the fun in paying? And it's from there that Tony was obsessed with Bonnie. It's the one thing at the Plex he can't pretend he doesn't find childish
Tony has been trying to forget it. He's too old for all that. But he just loves the characters despite everything. He'd start going into how he can like the glamrocks because he researched glam rock, while Gregory and Ellis don't really care-- "Yeah I looked into Glam Rock. It's like. A part of queer history. It's important haha. and I can look into its influence. Okay? It's normal and fine and mature." And they're just like "??? Okay???"
Greg's favourite is Freddy, Tony's is Bonnie, and the duo are super close. Ellis isn't stupid. He definitely thought they were gonna end up together or something; even if they weren't gonna end up like that or anything, Ellis is a huge tease
They all tried cooking once! Tried. Tony isn't a bad cook at 14, but he's an awful, terrible cook at 12. Ellis can't cook at all, and Gregory can only bake (at age 12, also badly).
No matter what they're making, Ellis manages to make slime every time. His favourite to cook is spaghetti and the pasta is always mushy, the sauce always thick as hell with not enough meat... It's slime. Tastes nice, with the worst texture of all time. Despite that, the boys like it anyway. When Tony's sad Ellis is like right. Dude. I'm making you my slimy spaghetti surprise rn
Greg would bake them all cookies at the weekends they work on school projects! They're usually slightly too hard or too soft, but they taste okay.
Ellis helped one time and the cookies became slime. "Oh my God Greg. Who made these, Ellis?" "Uhmmmm excuse me you're doubting the master chef of the three musketeers?" "He helped."
Greg got extremely, scarily good at baking that one September before he and Tony went missing (Afton/the Mimic can really cook apparently!)
The trio has a Minecraft server, owned by Gregory. Tony builds actual houses and stores, Ellis builds really huge complex things like farms and redstone contraptions + traps, and Gregory builds sometimes like Tony, but is shockingly good at it. He builds megabases. But he also starts a million things he never finishes, accidentally breaks things, causes chaos (usually along with Ellis), buries Tony or moves him while he's AFK, and /kills everything.
Ellis and Gregory built a dangerous labyrinth, and Greg teleported Tony to the centre of it. He's in spectator mode with Ellis, watching Tony struggle and constantly respawn in the maze while he complains. "MF GIVE BACK MY CREATIVE PERMS???" "Seek the exit, and your desires will be met." (leaves vc)
If Tony ever gets genuinely annoyed by their antics, Greg usually builds him something as an apology because he feels really bad about it.
And uhh that's all for now! I could probably come up with more eventually, but these ones have been on my mind abkshduhdjd
Thanks for the ask!
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emeritus-fuckers · 1 year
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If requests are open: yandere Emeritus-es and a darling who is a shy, wallflower type? Friendly but doesn't really socialize, the quiet type.
Oh fuck yeah, yandere content, mommy likes. - Jez
Yandere Papas with a shy s/o
Primo
It was probably the very reason you caught his attention.
A shy, lonely Sibling of Sin.
He gently approaches you, asking you to help him with something in the garden.
In actuality, he did not need your help. He just thought you seemed uncomfortable around all the people you had to work around, so he wanted you to catch a breather.
He offers to assign you to work in the garden for as long as you'd like.
Eventually he becomes your first friend in the Ministry. First and only.
He uses his age to his advantage, making you feel bad for the poor old man that he is.
He doesn't need to have you. He just wants you around him and to not be anyone else's. He's perfectly fine with just being a friend, as long as he's the only person that matters to you.
Secondo
It's perfect. Secondo considers getting his darling's attention a game. And while the lack of rivals makes it a bit boring, he certainly enjoys how easy it is to make you fall for him.
You cling to any potential friendships. And if you can't find any because you're too shy, the man who makes very occasional small talk with you while you're assigned to help him work... You'll take it.
And since he made sure all your work is by his side, he eventually end up seeking him up and following him quietly.
He then slowly allows you to worm yourself into his life, making you feel like you two ending up together was your achievement.
It wasn't. It was his plan all along.
Terzo
At first Terzo wants you to open up. But then he changed his mind when he saw how cute you are.
So shy, getting nervous whenever anyone approached you.
He was absolutely enamoured with you and then he started slowly inserting himself into your life, flirting with you, popping out whenever he saw you alone.
The squeaks you made were so cute when he'd suddenly appear.
He'd always apologize so profusely, he only meant to cheer you up! You look so lonely, he wanted to offer his company, but you'd probably hate the company of a man who scared you like that...
He pulls this pity party every time. And you fall for it every time. It's ridiculous.
Eventually you look forward to his scares and start actually bonding. Terzo doesn't really show his darker tendencies unless he's really provoked.
He only trusts his Ghouls with you, especially Alpha and Omega.
He will most likely use his Ghouls to get rid of any... Issues. Like another potential friend.
Your new friends disappear so quickly, just stick with him, won't you?
Copia
He's just as shy and awkward as you are, so for a long time he just observes. While a Cardinal is a high position, he doesn't really have that much power over you or any Siblings, but he's okay with just watching for now.
And then, just like a blessing from Satan himself, he gets to become Papa.
Instead of inserting himself into your life, he makes a scene with the help of his Ghouls, where he suddenly comes to help you.
Rain told him it was stupid and he almost didn't do it, but then Cirrus started talking about the power of love and he goes through with it.
He's gonna research your hobbies and talk to you about them just to make himself more attractive to you.
It's genuine! He loves you genuinely, everything is absolutely true about his feelings! And the ones you develop and genuine, too!
Old Nihil
I feel like the only reason to get him to be yandere for you is if you were really similar to younger Sister Imperator.
He's a delusional one, y'all. He'll see you and think you're Imperator. But since all Sisters of Sin are just referred to as "Sister", so nobody really realized his weird behavior.
He makes you dress up more like her, expects you to be a nice, cute little replacement for Sister Imperator while not realizing that you weren't her.
He'll tell you stories from the times he was with her and you were a poor, sweet, shy little thing, too nervous to question or correct him.
In his delusions, he will slowly end up making you into his new Seestor. And unless the real Sister Imperator stops him, he's gonna make you live in his little fantasy with him. And you being shy is a good bonus, it means you're very unlikely to try and rebel against him.
Just to have someone close to you, you're willing to play into it.
Young Nihil
The only one actually willing to threaten his darling.
You're probably meant to be a little side thing he's gonna use to comfort himself after the Kiss the Go-Gost incident and losing Sister Imperator.
He picks you because you're shy, and shy usually means easy.
Over time, hooking up with you becomes somewhat addicting.
He becomes obsessed with you, not just your body, but also how kind you were to him afterwards instead of leaving right away.
And so he drags you into a relationship with him, making you stay longer and longer each time. Eventually he demands you just stay with him in general.
Don't try to leave, don't even fucking try.
He'll threaten to hurt himself, to hurt you... And you're too timid to do anything about it, so you stay and let him manipulate you.
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