#+ and says “I’m going in’’ and he gets it cause he’s a real one and is proud of his sister for chasing her dreams

[birdsbeesknees]

This is for people feeling like this living with conservatives! I am not a professional in psychology. This is just from personal experience.

- Find as many ways to not be around the “home” conservatives. That being the ones you live with or are connected too. Wether or not you wanna avoid the ones outside of that is up to you. For me it’s easier cause it’s like “sweet freedom on a stick I don’t give a damn I am ALIIIVE” when I’m on my own. Obviously avoid the alt right. If you have a car you can get a job to save money to move out, go to the library, go to a park, all kinds of stuff. If you don’t, I’m assuming you’re probably a minor, but for my folks that are adults I’ll leave you with some other stuff after this. For the minors, sign up to as many school activities as you can. Band is all year round and gay as hell. Most sports are seasonal though. Also stay at friends houses, and if you’re grades are good enough you can be an after school tutor. For my adults with no car, try getting a bicycle, or a friend with a car. Also you can read fantasy of fiction novels a lot. I know that sounds weird but they really do suck you into other worlds. Also see about living with someone else if you can.

- Get as many distractions in your life as possible. And make sure they’re healthy. Reading, writing, running, birdwatching, sewing, making music. Make it a challenge to get as many things in your life that distract you and make you happy. Bonus points if they make others happy.

- Journal your feelings out. Find some healthy way to express your feelings. And make sure you’re doing it a lot so it doesn’t back up. Also if you’re being really real in this expression make sure you hide it like SUPER well from the home conservatives. And I mean really really well. Like writing your diary in a language they don’t know well.

- Make sure you have people around that love you for who you actually are. Have their numbers written down on paper in case your device gets taken away. Make friends that see you for who you are and love you. Go to events that you think will have people like that there.

- Make sure you’re doing the baseline things where you live with your folks to keep them from getting angry. Chores, keeping up with schoolwork, whatever it is.

- Don’t ever bring up any political topics around them, at least don’t do this if you know they’re not gonna change.

- Never argue, just confront or politely disagree. No name calling, assuming how they feel, or telling them how they feel. Avoid arguments on the whole, just confront. As in healthily tell them there’s an issue. If they get rowdy stick to what I said about no name calling and all that other jazz. And stay CALM.

- If you hear them talking about you behind your back, only listen in if it’s for your safety. If not I stick to this motto “it is not worth it in this lifetime or any others” because it’s really not.

- Do whatever possible (no matter how far away a move out is) to save money to move out. Save up money in general tbh. When I say whatever possible though I don’t mean harm yourself or others.

- Don’t risk coming out unless you’ve moved out or if they’ve changed FOR SURE. I repeat, do not come out to them while living with them unless you know they’re completely safe. Which if you’re reading this all the way through probably not.

- Remember that their opinions aren’t the be all end all. That you’re not completely alone and there’s a whole world out there on your side. There really is.

Again I am not in a lot of trumps main communities he targets hate towards (although I am in some) and I’m also not a professional in psychology so if any of this was problematic please let me know.

I hope none of you disappear in the coming days. Seriously don't do anything that can't be undone.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent �� only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

[justkending]

It's just a papercut... (Drabble)

Summary: Mission one-on-one with Bucky? It's been done before. So why is this one different? Why is he acting weird and not letting me storm off in a rage at his cold shoulder? Also, was the one bed necessary?

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 7000+ (It's a long one...)

A/N: I've been spending a lot of my time on Character ChatGPT AI, and a secret agent conversation made me say, " Yeah, I need to put this into a Bucky fanfic." So here we are🥰 Did it turn a lot more emotional than I planned? Yes. Do I regret it? No. Enjoy, my loves!!

_____

“Jesus! The goal is to survive the mission, and from the likes of it, bullets aren’t even going to be the thing that finishes the job!” I shout over the whipping wind as Bucky maneuvers through cars in the foreign country while outrunning the guards we just escaped from on a motorcycle he stole in front of a shop.

“Shut it!” he shouts back, taking another sharp turn that has me clutching on as if one wrong blow of the wind will have me ending this chase with a case of road rash on my entire body. “I’m losing them.” 

“And likely me with them,” I grumble, and he shoots me a quick look in the rearview mirror, showing that he heard my remark and didn’t care for it. 

I look behind us and see one of the jackasses we were running from has joined us in motorcycle theft, and I curse under my breath as I come up with a plan.

“Goon, five o’clock!” I announce as I dig into my boot for a small handgun I keep hidden. 

Bucky looks around and clocks him. His teeth grit together as he kicks the speed up, weaves through a few cars, and turns down a new street, but the man following seems to be just as skilled in bike chases. 

“Still on you!” I shout and let out an annoyed groan, realizing that at some point in our mission, I’d lost my backup weapon. 

“I see that!” Bucky groans, and as we pass a fruit stand on the street, he knocks it over with his metal hand, causing a traffic stop and the motorcyclist to have to drive over apples and pears, making him to lose his balance some. 

However, it wasn’t effective enough. “I got it,” I sigh as Bucky takes another sharp turn, and I clutch onto him. “Do me a favor and try and stay straight for 5 seconds!” I complain, and he complies, although begrudgingly. 

I point my fist towards the bike, and as the man makes mean eyes at me, I wiggle my fingers at him with a grin before shooting a taser shock out of the widow bite Nat gifted me. 

They shoot across and cause his entire bike to seize at the overload of electricity. He flies off the bike as it stutters and gives Bucky and me a clean escape down an alley. 

A few alleys later and a quiet spot away from the chaos that had just ensued, Bucky and I hop off the bike and hide it behind a dumpster. I catch my breath as I throw my backpack over my shoulder and watch as he covers the bike more with the lid of the trash before grabbing his own pack. 

“We need to lay low for the night,” I note, adjusting my backpack and looking into the dead-end alley. 

He sighed, taking in the area, and I could see the pistons firing in his head. “There’s a hotel not far from here that’ll work. Not shitty, but also not anything fancy.” He immediately starts stalking away, not waiting for me to follow. 

I huff in annoyance as he leaves me, and I fasten my backpack, buckling it across my chest before jogging to catch up with his long strides. 

We don’t say much as we get to the hotel. Both of our minds coming down from the adrenaline and running through the last pieces of the mission.

While in the lobby of the hotel, I get a call and move to take it, seeing it’s Steve checking in, and I leave Bucky to handle the check-in process. 

“Got it. We’ll head to the airport in the morning,” I nod and turn around to see Bucky confirming something with the clerk, and I turn back to the phone. 

When he finishes checking in (fake IDs with real payment thanks to Stark’s ways), he turns and waves his hand toward the elevator in a quick action. 

“Yeah. We’re fine,” I note, feeling a stitch in my side but not wanting to check just how bad the damage is until I’m behind a closed door. “He’s being a dick as per usual,” I chuckle lightly as I start my walk to the elevators. “No, Steve. I don’t need you to call him and reprimand him. You know-... Seriously, Steve. Leave it… I said it as a joke more than anything-” He cuts me off again, ready to always put Bucky in his place with the cold shoulder he seems to love to give to only me. 

When I make it to the elevator, where Bucky is holding the door impatiently for me, I quickly say, “Losing you! Getting in an elevator so I can’t-” There’s a protest on the other end. “What was that? It’s cutting out.” I say in stuttered beats to play it off before hanging up. “Steve says hi,” I say to Bucky as I lock my phone and shove it in my back pocket. 

“Sure,” he says back, and I’m not sure if it’s unconvinced or unbothered… or both. Either way, his face is still stoic.

“You really need to lighten up,” I sigh in a deep breath, annoyed that he never relents his tough guy act around me. 

“Don’t feel like.” 

“Do you ever?” 

The elevator is silent. The only sound is the mechanics of the metal box moving up. It eventually dings, and as I go to step forward, I grimace slightly so as I step wrong, causing pain to go up my side, but I quickly brush it off. 

“What was that?” Bucky says behind me as he steps off the elevator last. 

“What was what?” I ask, looking carefully at the room numbers and acting ignorant. 

“That look. You flinched.” 

“Yeah, no,” I shake my head. “Your eyesight must be getting worse with age.” 

“My eyesight is fine,” he grumbles, pulling my arm back as I pass the room, realizing he never told me the number. “We’re here,” he turns to the door and presses the key card to it. The color changes from red to green, giving us access. 

“I call the shower first,” I shout, shoving him out of the way and unbuckling my backpack as I rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

All I hear is an exasperated sigh on the other side and a shuffle of footsteps as he shuts the door, locks up, and moves into the room. 

I let out a sigh of exhaustion and relief to be done for the day and turned the water on to warm up. If there is one thing I’ve learned about going on missions with Bucky, it’s that the man’s superhearing is just an excuse for him to be nosy. He listens to almost EVERYTHING. 

So, with the water running and him hopefully distracted by the hotel views, I undress and focus on the shower. As soon as I took my shirt off, I was shown exactly what I worried was the problem. 

Down my side is a semi-jagged cut going up my rib cage. Close to four inches long, if not less, but angry and red. I hiss and quickly bite my lip so as not to make another sound. It’s not bleeding anymore, which tells me it’s not deep, so with the proper cleaning and care, it’ll be fine in a few days. I use my time in the shower to clean it and wash the rest of the day away with it. 

When I come out, I rummage through my bag for a first aid kit. I usually pack a travel-size one given the job, but I can’t find it in my pack. I change into a pair of clean shorts and a tank top I packed (light and takes up minimal space) before checking in the mirror to make sure my cut wasn’t prominent through the light-colored tank. When I feel comfortable enough that Bucky won’t ask questions, I straighten and fight the soreness that’s taking over my body now that I’m not going 100mph. 

I walk out, and when I see that Bucky is lying back, arms over his eyes on a king-size bed, I immediately take in the fact that it’s the only bed in the room.

“Um,” I start, hands out as I assess the space. “What’s this?” I ask. 

“A bed,” Bucky answers simply and sits up tiredly as he looks at me, leaning back on his forearms. “You ran straight into the bathroom before I could tell you, or you saw for yourself.” 

I cross my arms and flinch again when I graze my cut, but I roll my shoulders as if the full-body soreness was the only issue. 

“Well, did we not have another option or-” 

“What was that?” he cuts me off. 

“What was what?” I look right at him and furrow my eyebrows. 

“You made that face again.” 

I roll my eyes. “I’m sore,” I shrug, scoffing and even I know I’m a horrible actress right now, so I don’t make eye contact. 

“That’s not a sore grimace. That’s something else,” he sits up straight now and tilts his head down, assessing me. 

“Stop that.” My arms tightening around me under his gaze only makes a smirk appear. “Stop. It’s weird.” 

“No, what’s weird is why you’re being so weird,” he remarks with a face. 

“Good one,” I sass, turning and going to his backpack now. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” He stands quickly from the bed and looks at me over my shoulder as I unzip his bag. 

“I think I put something of mine in here. I can’t find it in my bag,” I note, dunking my hand into his things. He steps up, pulling my shoulders to get away. 

“Stop going through my stuff. You’re worse than Sam,” he notes, tugging me away, although gentler than how he is typically. 

“I just need-” I feel the small plastic box I’m looking for and tug it out, quickly holding it behind my back. “Nevermind. I found it.” 

“What are you talking about-” 

“Nothing! Just give me one minute. I need to brush my teeth,” I jab a thumb behind my shoulder as I walk backward to the bathroom, his steps matching mine. “I’ll be out in five minutes,” I note quickly as I turn on my heel and run back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it again. 

Instead of seeing the door handle budge like I expected, he bangs a fist on the wooden barrier. 

“Y/N, open the damn door! What the hell did you take out of my bag?”

“My toothbrush!” I lie. “I must have gotten our bags mixed up when I packed them. 

“How could you do that? Yours is brown, and mine’s black,” he notes. 

“A very dark brown,” I note, lifting my tank top and sitting on the bathroom counter to get a better look in the mirror of my cut. “Just give me a second-” 

“You’re being weirder than normal,” he groans in frustration on the other side. 

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” I hiss as I put the sanitizer spray on it and bite my knuckle to suppress the pained groan I want to let out. “Jesus,” I mumble under my breath, but the next thing I know, the door is swinging open, and Bucky’s staring at its handle in confusion before back at me. “Hey!” I look at the door and back at him. “They’re going to charge us for that.” 

His eyes immediately go from annoyed and over it to concerned and confused. 

“What the hell is that?” He points at my stomach, where I’m frozen on top of the counter, shirt lifted, showing my entire torso and cut on full display. 

“A paper cut,” I say after a moment of trying to come up with an excuse. Why a paper, out of all things, left my brain, I don’t know. But it did, and here we are. 

His concerned face drops some, and he deadpans from my injury to me before marching to me and turning me at my shoulders to face him and get a better view. 

“When did this happen?”

“Wild guess, but likely when the guards we fought to get out pulled a knife on me and played dirty,” I sigh, realizing I wasn’t talking myself out of this one anytime soon. “But that could be a stretch,” I add.

He again looks up at me from my injury with an incredulous and agitated look. 

“Let me see,” he sighs, bending down to get a better look and looking at the injury from a head-on angle. 

“It’s just a scratch, Barnes. I’ll be good as new after a little disinfectant and ointment. Nothing a bandaid can’t fix,” I brush off, turning on the counter to grab the kit. 

He stops me in my turn by placing a hand on my knee and turning me back around to where my legs hang off the counter. I’m sitting with him in between my legs. 

“They used a serrated knife,” he notes, taking the first aid kit out of my hand and opening it, instantly getting to work as if I wasn’t doing it myself two seconds ago. 

“Um, excuse me, but I can-” 

“I know the things you can do, Y/N. You don’t have to tell me,” he says sternly, grabbing gauze and another bottle of something I didn’t know the contents of and tipping it onto the gauze before bending down again. This time, his eyes found mine as he looked up at me from his now crouched position. “This is going to sting. That sanitizer you were using before is shit. This one actually does the job,” he notes, and I’m a little stunned by the turn of events. “Ready?” 

Never in my life did I think Bucky Barnes would be this gentle and considerate with me, but I’m not going to stop a good thing from happening. 

“I don’t think it can hurt more than the knife itself,” I smirk and nod when he gives me a look. “Yeah, yeah. Do your thing, Doc.” I gesture to him, looking up at the ceiling as I prepare for the sting. 

I don’t feel it instantly, and just as I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, the cool liquid hits my cut, and I hiss, grabbing his wrist in a tight hold out of instinct as I hold him back. “Jesus H. Christ,” I grit through my teeth. “What the hell kind of acid did you just put in-?” 

“It’s Banner-strength disinfectant,” he cuts me off, gently dabbing the cut even as I hold his wrist. His touch is soft, but the sting is anything but. “You grabbed my first aid kit. I had him make it since you tend to get hurt easily, and we’re not in the cleanest country.” He’s fully concentrated on my cut. 

“What?” I asked, surprised, grabbing the kit's container and seeing that it indeed was not mine. I brush over the fact he had Bruce make it and packed it specifically for me as I look over at my bag, still slumped against the wall from my rush to take a shower, and realize I must have accidentally unpacked my own. 

“Relax. Tensing doesn’t help,” he adds, bringing his free hand to my thigh and giving a light squeeze to distract me. I hiss again as he pads over an agitated area. His face drops some, and he gives me a look. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me about this as soon as you knew? This was not far from being infected in a way that could have been a lot worse than just an irritating sting.” 

“When was I supposed to tell you?” I sass, throwing my head back on the mirror as I focus on anything but the pain in my side. “As soon as we got off the bike, we headed here. You didn’t say a word to me, and I was in my own head. Honestly, I didn’t even realize it was there until we were checking in and I was on the phone with Steve. Adrenaline must have kept me from realizing it.” 

He mumbles something under his breath, and I hear the word, reckless in the middle of it. 

“Watch yourself,” I warn, kicking my leg a touch, skimming his rib cage. “There can easily be two injured people in this room.” 

“No need for both of us to get stupid injuries,” he grumbles. 

I scoff and shove his hand away from me, jumping off the counter as he stands and glares at me. 

“Sorry for getting stabbed,” I sneer up at him, stepping into his space. “I’ll make sure to ask the bad guys next time to keep the knives at home. Oh! Or better yet,” I exaggerate. “I’ll tell them my partner said I’m not allowed to get into fights with men triple my size, so if they can just play gentle so I don’t end up with any battle scars, that would be greatly appreciated.” I smile wide and fake before dropping it and brushing by him to the bedroom. 

I catch the tail end of his eyes rolling before I hear him stomping behind me. 

“I need to finish patching you up. If it’s not done properly, you can get sick.” He comes up behind me, but I stop abruptly, and he runs into my back before holding my shoulders to steady himself. I turn to him, not breaking the space. 

“I know how injuries work, Barnes. This isn’t my first time in the field, although I’m sure you believe otherwise,” I scoff in anger. “Just,” I put my hands up, stepping away in frustration and groaning. “I’m going to get some air,” I try and push past him to leave, but his hand wraps around my arm and holds me shoulder to shoulder by his side before I can get my feet past him. 

“No. You’re going to let me finish patching you up. Now…” he stares at me with his Sergeant's eyes. “Sit. Down.” I struggle to fight my stubborn retort, but he sees it brewing and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 

I groan in protest loudly and pull my arm out of my grip before moving to the edge of the bed and sulkingly wait for him to finish his job- that I didn’t ask him to do, by the way!

“Good girl,” he mutters with a smartass smirk, and I take a breath in to yell something at him, but he goes back to the bathroom to grab the kit we left behind. 

“Cyborg headed-ass, caveman, son of a bit-” I mumble, and he comes back in, shooting me a look that says, ‘really?’. “Oh, sorry, did you hear that?” I say with fake regret. 

He rolls his eyes and crouches again by my knees to get a better angle at the cut, and I lean back, my hands flat against the comforter as he works quietly, and I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on my stomach when he’s been nothing but cold to me. 

As he’s patting the tape over the piece of gauze he fashioned over my cut, I look at him calculatingly. He notices my gaze on him and awkwardly starts putting his things up, sneaking glances at my stare here and there. 

“What?” he finally asks. “Stop staring at me.” 

Instead of an answer, I just stare harder and raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I analyze him deeper. 

“Cut it out,” he growls, standing and moving to put the kit on the counter. “You’re creeping me out.” 

I let out a single laugh and shook my head before lowering my tank top and looking out the window. “You’re so fucking confusing,” I state, standing as I straighten my clothes. 

“I’m confusing?” he asked rhetorically. “You’re fucking confusing.” 

“Come up with your own lines,” I throw an exasperated hand out, waving him off. “I’m getting air.” 

I don’t know what provokes him, but he steps in front of me, his towering figure shadowing over me. 

“No,” he says, looking at me sternly. 

“I don’t remember asking,” I sidestep him and move to the door. I manage to open it maybe a foot before it’s slammed in my face, and I feel Bucky’s chest pressed to my back. I look up, and his hand is splayed flat on the door. 

“I said no,” he says lowly. His voice is just over my shoulder, and I hold back the shiver that threatens to take over my body. 

“And I said, fuck off,” I say just as lowly, looking up at him, tilting my head back. “Move.” 

“We need to talk.” 

“And I need to put a good three blocks of this city between us so I don’t add another person to the stabbed today club. I’d rather stay on Steve’s good side.” I jut my arm back to elbow him in the ribs, but he dodges it with a smirk. 

“Real mature,” he sasses, and I can see a touch of playfulness in his features, and that makes me even more furious. 

“You’re one to fucking talk!” I turn and shove him in the chest, and he relents, putting his hands up in the air as I shove repeatedly in vexation. Each shove and each curse I send his way has him taking one slight step back with a grin. “Stop smiling!” I grunt as I push him harder, and he laughs. He fucking laughs!

My eye twitches, and my hits become more forceful. Nothing close to what I’m capable of, but I’m not looking for a full-on brawl. I just want to smack him enough to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. 

“Y/N,” he says calmly in between hits to his rock-solid chest. A chest, I’m sure, will give me bruises if I keep this up. 

“No! You don’t get to talk!” I point at him after shoving him one more time and successfully making him falter a few steps back at the power behind it. “I’m walking out of this room to get some air, and you’re going to stay right fucking there. Right there!” I point to the floor under his feet. “And not keep me from leaving this God damn suffocating room. Got it?” 

I know my eyes are wild, and I know the emotions I’m feeling are written clear as day on my face because his sly smirk falters, and he takes a deep breath in, hands still up in surrender. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters out as his gaze falls to his feet. 

“What?” I ask, shocked and slightly out of breath from exerting myself. 

“I’m sorry,” he says a touch more clearly as he clears his throat and looks up, hands coming down and eyes avoiding mine. 

I blink a few times and throw my hands up. “I can’t do this.” I let out a breath and turned back to the door. 

“Y/N, please don’t,” he says, and I stop. I surprise myself, but I stop, turning back to him slowly. 

“Why?” There’s a long pause that follows my question, and I wonder whether Bucky even knows why he’s asking this. “Genuinely Bucky... Why are you so insistent on me staying in this room right now?

He runs a nervous hand over his beard and shifts his weight to one foot as he throws one hand up in a single wave. 

“I don’t need you getting hurt again,” he states, still avoiding eye contact. 

My eyebrows narrow in confusion, and I cross my arms, popping my hip to the side as I stare at him. “We’re in a hotel. Not a battlefield.” 

“It’s better we stay in here than wander around. The guys who were after us are likely still hunting us, and it’s best we don’t show our faces in public spaces,” he notes. 

Ok, that’s a logical reason, but something tells me this is a more emotional reason on his end. He’s not sharing everything, though…

“Ok…” I drag out and look at the balcony. “Then I’ll go out there.” 

I walk promptly to the balcony, surprisingly not being stopped by him as I brush past him and jiggle the door handle, finding it stuck. “Fucking hell,” I grumble under my breath as I pull the handle and push it up and down to try and get it to work.  

A hand comes behind me and takes the door handle for me. I stare at it, not turning to acknowledge how Bucky expertly pushes it just right for it to open.

“I had the same issue,” he says, pulling his hand back and nodding his head to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower.” He steps back, quiet and sinking back into his usual stand-offish behavior, but now with more nerves and awkwardness. 

I give a grunt in acknowledgment and shut the balcony door behind me before sitting in a shitty lawn chair. I don’t turn to see if he’s still standing there watching me, but instead, I focus on the city view in front of me. It’s not a well-off country, so the views aren’t more than rundown buildings and vendors in the street shouting for people to buy their things over their neighbors, but it’s fresh air away from the man that makes my blood boil. 

__________

Fifteen minutes later, I feel a little calmer. Although still annoyed, I’m more confused than anything. Why the hell was he acting so strange, and why do I feel like some kind of serious conversation was going to-

“Y/N?” I hear the door open with a creak and turn to see Bucky with wet hair, a change of clothes, and soft eyes focusing on the door that’s obviously broken. “God, this place has gone down in quality,” he notes, leaving the door cracked as he comes onto the balcony with me. 

“Been here before?” I ask, turning back to the view ahead. 

“Once like 8 years ago,” he nods and moves to stand by the railing, his arms crossed over the edge of it, and his gaze now focused on the same place mine is. “Must have gotten new management.” 

It’s silent for almost five minutes after that. No words, no looks, no sounds. Just silence outside of the city noise. I debate, standing and going back into the room if he’s going to continue to go radio silent and not explain his strange behavior earlier, but just before I stand, he speaks up. 

“I don’t know why,” he says, and a crease forms between my eyebrows. He continues to stare off into the city. I wait a few moments, and he continues. “I don’t know why you stress me out more than the others.” 

Great. So that’s how this is going to go. 

I stand and silently move to go back into the room, but his hand clasps around my wrist. 

“Please, just let me find the words,” he asks, and I can hear the plea in his voice. 

I look back and up at him and his eyes are in the puppy dog form I’ve seen only a select few times. Ones that have never been directed at me but have held no truer emotion than requisition. 

“Ok…” I drag out, moving back to the lawn chair and sitting quietly as he drops my wrist almost hesitantly and leans against the railing, fidgeting with his hands. I’ve never seen him like this, so I give him the space. 

He takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes before just unloading everything. 

“I don’t like seeing you get hurt,” he starts. “I mean, I don’t like seeing any of my friends get hurt. It’s no decent person’s interest to watch friends and family get harmed, but it’s like a nagging in my head. No,” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words. “It’s like having pins and needles surrounding your lungs, and every time you try and take a breath to come down from the terror- the pain of seeing them hurt- the needles poke and stab. Making it nearly impossible to take a deep breath and ground yourself. And that’s only a part of the pain that comes with it.”

I stare up at him. My eyes are likely wide as I take in what he’s saying. He glances at me once before looking back at his hands. 

“I know I’m an asshole to you. I know that,” he says, cringing as if the truth behind it hurts him. “I don’t know why. At least, I say that to make myself not think about it longer than I can probably handle, but I’ve talked to my therapist about it, and she says it's a protective technique my brain finds more plausible than just dealing with the confusing feelings I have towards you.” 

My eyes shift back and forth as if trying to understand the words. 

“Feelings towards me?” I repeat. “Like annoyance?” 

“No,” he sighs, and then he chuckles a soft laugh under his breath. “Well, yes. Sometimes you can be annoying, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it endearing most of the time.” 

My eyebrows raise at that. Where the hell is all this coming from? 

I shake my head in disbelief and lean back in my chair. “Barnes, you’re giving me a bit of whiplash, and I’m not sure-” 

“I like you.” 

My mouth is still open from where my sentence was going, and I blink once. Then twice. Then, a third time, as I tried to understand if I just heard him right. Because if he meant it as a friend, I’m shocked. But if he meant it otherwise… I’m hallucinating. 

His eyes find mine, and this time, he doesn’t look away. He keeps eye contact, and I can feel him trying to read me. 

“I-Is there more to that sentence?” I ask, my brain trying to make sense of the situation and short-circuiting ultimately. 

“Yes, but from the looks of it, you’re still trying to translate those three words.” 

“Good observation,” I nod, pursing my lips and sinking into my chair.

“I’ve been known to make them,” he smiles a tight-lipped smile. I’m actually grateful for his quip at this moment. 

“Bucky, you have to understand that those words don’t make sense with how you treat me-” 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he pushes off the railing and steps forward just in front of my chair. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why it’s taken me this long to apologize for the way I’ve acted this long, but for some reason… When we were fighting today, I saw a man get the jump on you. I was seconds from leaving my own fight and coming straight to you to handle it for you, but you quickly turned the situation around. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen you in that scenario, yet something about it…” He pauses, looking up at the sky, throwing a hand through his hair. “It freaked me out. It freaked me out far more than it has in the past.” 

He looks at me in a sincere way and moves to sit in the busted up, rusted, and metal patio chair that looks like it very well could have been here when he came 8 years ago. It creaks as he turns it in and angles his body toward mine. His elbows rest on his knees, and he looks down at his hands again. And as he talks, I realize he’s breaking it down not just for me but for himself—these emotions and sudden changes. 

“Maybe it’s because I knew if I didn’t get to you, you were on your own. We didn’t have a backup. I couldn’t call Steve or Nat, or Wanda to come in and help where I couldn’t. And then the actualization that if I couldn’t get to you, if no one was there to back you up, there was a chance I’d end up regretting everything all because I can’t seem to come to terms with my feelings.” His eyes find mine again. “And then that cut,” his eyes drag from mine down my torso to where my knife wound lays under my tank top. “It was like a final piece to knock some sense into my head.” 

He looks at me, and I can’t explain it, but I want to hold him when he looks at me like that. 

“Seeing you hurt reminded me… You’re human. You aren’t invincible even if you can take on three men triple your size attacking you at once. It’s a skill I’m glad and impressed that you have, but it doesn’t guarantee someone won’t get the jump on you again, and I’m not sure I can handle that.”

I stay in silence for a moment, taking in the information and processing it all. I must have been quiet for a while because a soft “Y/N?” makes me look up from where I’ve been staring blankly at the balcony. 

“You ok?” he asks gently, carefully. 

I nod and run a hand up and down my arm from a slight breeze blowing with the sun setting in the distance. 

“Trying to…” I started, but I didn’t know what words were meant to follow. “I’m a little shocked,” I say, eventually looking at him. 

“I can’t say I blame you. It’s a 180 from our normal conversations,” he takes a deep breath and smiles softly at him. “Do you need a minute?” 

I shake my head. “No…” Then I scrunch my nose. “Well, maybe.” 

“That’s ok,” he nods, sitting back in his chair, and it weakly groans in protest. He takes in the fact my legs are up to my chest now, and I’ve wrapped my arms around myself. “We should go inside. It’ll get cold soon.” He stands and motions for me to head in first, then offers a hand to help me stand up. 

I look at it before taking it, standing, and walking in with my arms still around my middle. As soon as we’re in, I turn and catch us both off guard by being chest-to-chest with him after he shuts the balcony door. I don’t move, though, and neither does he. 

“Since honesty seems to be the focus of the night,” I look up at him. “I’ve always admired you…” His face softens at that. “But I’d be lying to both of us if I said how you treated me didn’t affect that original feeling.” He nods in understanding and slightly cringes to himself. 

“I wouldn’t hold it against you.” 

“Why did you- Why did you not like me at first?” 

He shrugs a touch, but there’s no uncertainty behind it. “I saw you as young and naive. I saw you as someone who seemed to make almost anyone love you, and all you had to do was exist around them. I think a broken part of me was envious and confused by that trait, and I used it as a reason to be hateful to you instead of taking advantage of the kindness you freely give and allowing myself the gift of that. I didn’t think I deserved that.” He sighs, his hands going into the pockets of his shorts. “I convinced myself that your kindness was nativity when I’ve learned quite quickly that you’re anything but naive.”  

I sigh, nodding my head as I turn and move to sit on the edge of the bed. “You wouldn’t be the first person to misinterpret my kindness. It’s why I tend to fall into becoming a stubborn ass when people don’t appreciate that kindness. Hence why I haven’t been the perfect person in this relationship myself,” I motion between us. “I should have recognized where you could have been coming from and continued to kill you with pleasantries, but you didn’t seem to respond well to it.” 

“It wasn’t your job to recognize that or fix it. It was mine to stop being a stubborn ass myself and talk to you rather than make assumptions,” he shifts on his feet. “I thought I was self-preserving when I was actually self-sabotaging. Something I’m still working on recognizing.” 

“It’s a process,” I sigh, knowing the steps well enough myself. I consider the conversation and take a deep breath, relaxing in my spot as I come to my conclusion. “Bucky?” He looks at me, hopeful and attentive. “I forgive you.”

I watch as his body stiffens at the declaration before slowly relaxing.

“I don’t expect you to just be fine with everything I’ve done the last-”

“Many years?” I chuckle, lighting the mood. “Yeah, but why would I want to waste any more time when I get it? I get your reasoning, and I can’t say I blame you.” 

“But you should blame me,” he moves to sit on the comforter next to me, our knees brushing. 

I shrug, turning to face him better. “But I don’t.” He starts to talk, and I cover his mouth with my hand. His icy blue eyes looked down at the motion before back at me. “I swear to God, Barnes. You take two steps forward, and it’s like you feel guilty for making progress and regress.” He flinches slightly at my words, and I feel I struck a nerve. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-” I take my hand back.

“No, you’re right. It’s something I’m still working on. I mean, small things are easy to accept and move on, but this,” he gestures to me. “A part of me doesn’t believe I deserve your forgiveness after the caseload of shit I’ve given you, but-” 

“But it’s my forgiveness to give, so I’ll decide if I want to give it…” I look at him as if waiting for him to connect the dots. He smiles and nods as he looks down at his hands. “You catching on?” 

“I’m catching on,” he looks up at him again. “Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” 

We look at each other for a little while, and the atmosphere is new. It’s not tense. It’s not awkward. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s like we’ve come to a point we’ve been actively avoiding for years, and it turned out to be a really nice point.  

“So…” he starts, and I decide to break the seriousness of it all. 

“Why is there only one bed, Bucky?” I ask with a smirk, turning and patting the comforter we’re sitting on.

He looks at it with me and smiles with a laugh. “It wasn’t intentional, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Feels a touch intentional. Not letting me leave the room or demanding I stay close kinda plays into the fact you’d be forced into sharing a bed with me. Another way to secure me close by,” I tease.

“Or…” he drags out, and his hand comes up, pushing a wayward hair behind my ear and casually taking his hand back. “The receptionist told me they didn’t have any two-bedroom rooms available right now because there is a festival in town this weekend, and they’re booked up.” 

“Seems legit, but not sure if I believe you,” I grin a touch bashful and look around at the room as if I’m surveying it and not slightly melting at his touch. 

“Believe me or not,” he shrugs, standing and stretching. “Either way, we’re sharing a bed tonight, sweetheart.” He winks. He fucking winks at me and moves to the other side of the bed, getting his side ready for sleep. 

This new side of him is not one I was ready for, but seeing it makes me think about what I haven’t gotten to experience sooner. So I say that. 

“I knew you were a lady's man back in the day, but I never thought I’d see the flirt you were rumored to be,” I turn in my spot on the bed and look at him from the end of the bed. 

“I don’t flirt with everyone,” he says, throwing the blanket back and adjusting the pillows. 

“Well, yeah, obviously, but-” 

“Just people I’m attracted to,” he says, cutting me off with a telling grin. “And women I’d like to flirt back.” 

My mouth drops, and I let out a laugh. A genuine laugh. 

“Was that a move? Did you just make a move on me?” I smile like a teenager at him, partially in disbelief and partially in interest. 

“Did it work?” he chuckles, sitting on the edge and scooting into the bed but not fully getting in it. 

I shake my head with a smile and laugh again. “Honestly, I have to say yes.” 

His smile widens at my confession, and he leans back on the headboard, two pillows propped behind him. 

“So you’re saying I have a chance if I keep it up?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, cowboy. It’s not going to take just a flashy wink and a flirty comment to get my attention fully. I like to be sought after.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Is it?” I ask incredulously with a smirk as I move to my side of the bed and throw the covers back enough to sneak under them. 

“Can’t give away all my plans,” he shakes his head, and I turn off my bedside lamp. 

“Wouldn’t want you to. I like being surprised,” I lay down and nuzzled into my pillow before turning on my side and looking up at him. “Must say, your surprise tonight was a pretty good start.” 

“You think?” 

“I think,” I nod and debate on my next idea, but I decide what the hell? Who’s it hurting? “Feel free to say no, but if we are sharing the same bed, I tend to be a cuddler unconsciously, so if we-” 

“Yes,” he says simply a large grin he doesn’t seem to care to hide marks his handsome features. “Yes, please.” He nods, moving under the blanket. 

“That answer was a little too fast to believe that this hotel didn’t have other beds.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he shimmies under the blanket, and I feel his leg brush mine. 

“Listen, normally I wouldn’t, but I learn I sleep best when I’m with another person, so-” 

“You don’t have to give me a reason, doll. I’m happy to lend the support.” His arms are quickly wrapped around my middle and I’m turned to where my back is pressed against his front and I’m not going to lie… It’s a perfect fit. “Night, Y/N.” 

“Night, Bucky.” I smile putting my hands on his around my middle and laying back into him. 

This was a good start to something possibly more…

Ending A/N: I wouldn't be opposed to doing one more scene for this little drabble, but let me know if that's something you guys would be interested in :)

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[jensengirl83]

Pining In The Pines

Dean x reader

Word count-3843

Warnings- Angst, some fluff

Summary- Y/N and the boys have to go on a hunt in her old hometown. She's not happy to go home, and especially not when Dean makes a comment that brings up bad memories. How will she take it? And will Dean be able to make it right?

A/N- This fills my Secret Passageway square for @jacklesversebingo

First, I suck at summaries 😂 Second, this fic is a little self-indulgent. I've written it about where I'm actually from and the stigma about the people in this area. I really hope you like it!

“So, get this,” Sam started the conversation as he looked at his laptop. 

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled in her chest. It never failed. When he found a hunt, the first words out of his mouth were, ‘So, get this.’ That’s how she and Dean knew to stop and pay attention. He had something they needed to hear. So, she tried to contain her laughter and give Sam the attention he wanted. 

“Y/N…Do you have to laugh every single time?” Sam groaned but didn’t wait for a response, continuing with what he wanted to say, “There’s supposedly been a Wendigo spotted in Morehead, Kentucky. Homeowners caught it on their security camera for their driveway.”

“Morehead…Isn’t that close to where you grew up, sweetheart?” Dean wondered, looking over at the huntress beside him. 

“It’s a few counties over, but yeah, it’s close enough. Did you say there was footage?” she questioned, leaning forward to look at Sam’s laptop as he spun it around for her and Dean to see. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Dean put his hand on her lower back as he leaned forward to watch the video. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had fallen in love with the eldest Winchester. But how was she supposed to be around him, living in the bunker with him, and not fall head over heels? 

It was true that he had a temper, could be a real grump, and be downright mean sometimes. But, over the years, she’d learned that his temper flared most when someone he cared about was in danger. He would be grumpy when the weight of the world had gotten almost too heavy to bear, and he tried to push it down and keep it bottled up. He was mean when he thought he needed to push someone he cared about away because he was the one putting them in danger. To her, that was just the sign of a man who had been hurt, a man who loved deeply, one who cared so much that the thought of losing someone he loved was unbearable. So, how was she not going to fall for him at some point? 

But that’s as far as it went. She would never admit her feelings. She couldn’t. The likely rejection would be her end, and she would have to leave the bunker. She’d rather pine for him in tortuous silence than not have him in her life at all. So, as always, she shoved her feelings back down, focusing on the screen in front of her, and prepared for the hunt she knew was coming. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Dean nudged her, clearly seeing she was in her own little world. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m watching,” she rolled her eyes, trying to hide that she was fantasizing about the green-eyed Adonis. 

“Where was that pretty little head of yours?” he teased, his words making her heart ache. If only he really thought that way. 

“Just thinking of what I’ll need to pack. ‘Cause we’re clearly going to Kentucky, am I right?” she lied, hoping they would buy it. 

“Yeah, we have to check this out. I’ve never heard of a Wendigo this far east before,” Sam answered, getting Dean’s attention away from her. Thank Chuck. 

“There’s a lot of things in the Appalachian mountains that no one knows about. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught in those woods alone after dark,” she shivered at the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?” Dean tried to tease, but she gave him a stern look that made him think twice. 

“You should know that I’m not scared of the dark. I follow you into some of the darkest, creepiest places on earth. But, I grew up there, Dean. It’s not even just the monsters you have to worry about. I mean, there are bears, mountain lions, wolves…” she trailed off, not wanting to mention some of the crazy people that live in those mountains. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean huffed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “I get it.” 

“You better. You have to keep your head on a swivel while we’re in the woods. I’d hate to have to save your sorry ass from the real-life Yogi Bear,” she winked, “Because your ass will be the picnic basket.” 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed at her sarcasm as Sam laughed. Even though she was crazy in love with him, she could give him shit right back. And to be honest, she thoroughly enjoyed frustrating him. As she saw it, it was payback for him making her love him in the first place. She continued to chuckle as she went to her room to pack. Y/N didn’t like the thought of going home. Too many memories she’d like to forget. But duty calls, so she was packing her bags for the long drive to southeast Kentucky. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I highly doubt there’s a Wendigo here. They don’t stay in the wide-open woods,” Dean complained while trekking through the mountains. 

“Dean, do you not know anything about the topography of Kentucky?” Y/N asked, shaking her head in annoyance. He’d been in a mood all day. 

“Yes, sweetheart. I spend all my free time studying the layout of a state I rarely ever visit,” his sarcasm made her want to smack him in the head. 

“Well, dear,” she said just as sarcastically, “Kentucky is known for its underground cave systems. You know, Mammoth Cave. One of the biggest cave systems in the world…”  

“Of course! Because spelunking is high on my to-do list!” 

“Oh! Look at him, Sam. He’s using big boy words like spelunking. I’m so proud of you, Dean!” she half shouted at him. Trying to keep her voice down so as not to attract unwanted attention to whatever was out there. 

“Guys! Knock it off. We’re here to kill a Wendigo. Not for you two to kill each other!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“She started it,” Dean whined, acting like a child. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” she growled as she walked ahead of them. Leading them to the caves she knew were close. 

Y/N ignored the bickering between the brothers behind her as she made her way through the trees. She loved Dean, but today, she thought about leaving him in one of the caves they found. He’d been an ass since they woke up at the motel, and she couldn’t figure out what had his boxers in a bunch. They’d had to share a bed, but she didn’t think he’d be that pissed about that, but she wouldn’t put anything past him at that point. But, whatever it was, it tempted her to make him Wendigo lunch. 

“Slow down, Y/N. We’re not born and raised hillbillies like you are. It’s taking us a little longer to navigate this hellscape,” Dean yelled, grumbling under his breath about her getting too far ahead. 

Y/N froze. That was the last straw. Yes, she’d been born and raised in the area, but that word…Hillbilly. She’d been trying to get rid of that stigma since she left the mountains, and now hearing Dean, the man she loved, call her that derogatory term was too much to take. 

“Let me tell you something, asshole! Yeah, I grew up here, but I’m not a fucking hillbilly! I’ll have you know not everyone who lives in Appalachia are backwoods, uneducated, rednecks! So, take that term, and shove it straight up your ass!” she screamed, her anger boiling over into dangerous territory. 

Before either of the boys could say a word, a guttural, terrifying growl tore through the darkening woods. Y/N spun around to see what they’d been there to find. The Wendgio was only about thirty feet behind her, moving in quickly. Sam shouted for her to get behind him, breaking her out of her stupor. Once she’d cleared his line of sight, Sam grabbed his homemade flamethrower, flicking his lighter to ignite it, but nothing happened. He tried again but to no avail. Y/N’s screams tore through the night air…

“Run! Follow me!” 

The boys were quick at her heels as she weaved them in and out of the trees and underbrush. Dean couldn’t help but think about how impressed he was at her agility in that terrain. He could tell she’d grown up here and knew her way around, which brought him to his next thought. How guilty he felt for saying what he had. But now was not the time to apologize. Right now, he had to concentrate on not losing sight of her and getting shredded to pieces by the monster on their tails.  

“Here! Guys, hurry!” she shouted, an old moonshining cabin in her sight. 

Once she reached the cabin, she flung open the door, waiting for the boys to enter before slamming it shut, silently praying that the rickety lock would hold just long enough to devise a plan. 

“What the hell happened back there?” Dean asked, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. 

“I don’t know! The flamethrower has never not worked before,” Sam answered with the same labored breathing as his brother. 

“Well, we can figure that out later. Now, we need to figure out how to stay alive!” Y/N yelled, panic starting to set in. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. We’ll be okay,” Dean tried to calm her down, but she was still too angry with him. 

“Don’t! Do not ‘sweetheart’ me! You had no right to talk to me like that!” 

“Look, swe- Y/N, I’m sorry. But I don’t understand why that made you so mad,” Dean spoke as he looked around the cabin for something to use as a makeshift weapon. 

“That was a shit apology, Winchester. Just…just don’t speak to me until we get out of this mess,” she groaned, then mumbled, “If we live through this mess.” 

“Hey!” Dean shouted, getting her attention, “We are getting out of this. Don’t talk like that.” 

“Can you tell me how you plan to get us out of here? Cause I don’t see another way out except through the door that Wendigo is now trying to beat down!” 

As she walked toward Dean, her foot almost went through the floor, or at least it felt like it. She stopped, pushing down with her foot one more time. The bounce under her foot had her laughing loudly, and the boys looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Dean spoke as she started to rip the rug she stood on out of the way. 

“Care to tell us what you find so funny?” 

“This!” she continued to laugh in relief as she pointed to the hatch in the floor where she’d been standing, “It’s our way out!” 

“How do you know that? It could be just an old cellar,” Sam asked, walking over to inspect what she’d found. 

“Well, as Dean so nicely put it, us hillbillies would dig secret passageways to transport the moonshine back and forth without the police seeing them. They almost always lead to an abandoned coal mine or cave opening. Sometimes other cabins.” 

“Y/N, come on, I tried to apologize. I didn’t know it would upset you that much,” Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“Well, it did, and…” she started to argue when Sam interrupted them. 

“Maybe you two can finish this fight once we know we’re not going to die? Let’s go!” 

Y/N and Dean simultaneously rolled their eyes. Sam would have told them they were two peas in a pod if they weren’t in such a hurry to save their asses. Y/N was the first one down the ladder, explaining that she’d be their best bet for not getting completely lost underground, and neither brother disagreed. Dean followed, with Sam on his heels. Once they were underground, Y/N led the way, and the boys were impressed with how well she could get around in the tunnels. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Dean was going to ask if she really knew where she was going, but before he could open his mouth, they turned a corner and could see a light up ahead in the tunnel's ceiling. Y/N was climbing the ladder through another hatch before Dean knew what was happening. Maybe her nickname should be Squirrel instead of him, he chuckled to himself. As the last brother made it out of the tunnel and into another cabin, Y/N slammed the hatch, pushing an old, heavy piece of furniture over it. Luckily, this one was still quite furnished, with beds still in the bedrooms and an old couch in front of a fireplace. 

“This is home until morning,” she stated, looking around, finding, albeit dusty, pillows and blankets in a closet.

“Better than nothing,” Sam shrugged, walking into one of the bedrooms and shutting the door, leaving only one bedroom for her and Dean. 

“Looks like we’re sharing again, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Nah, take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” she whispered, not looking at him. Damn, she was still mad. 

“I’m not taking a bed and putting you on an old debilitated couch, Y/N.” 

“It’s fine. My adrenaline is still too high to sleep. Besides, I’ll keep watch so you can get some rest. You have to drive us back to the bunker tomorrow. I can sleep in the car.” 

“Y/N…” 

“No, Dean, it’s fine. Please, just take the bed. I’m too tired to argue,” she almost begged, wanting to be alone. 

“I thought you said you weren’t tired?” he smirked, trying to joke, but she wasn’t having it. 

“I’m mentally exhausted. I just need time to myself to wind down. Now, please, go get some sleep so we can get the hell out of here in the morning,” she pleaded, the look on her face breaking his heart. He had really hurt her with what he said. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Good night,” he said dejectedly, knowing it would be a sleepless night. His guilt would make sure of it. 

“Night,” she replied, turning her back to him, sitting down on the couch, staring out the window, never glancing his way. The click of the door made her wince as Dean went to bed.

Sleepless night was an understatement. Dean’s eyes didn’t close once as he lay there thinking how wrong the day had gone. He and Y/N had argued since their feet hit the floor that morning. Him being an ass was the reason for it. He hated fighting with her, but when he woke that morning, she was curled up at his side, her head on his chest. Usually, a man wouldn't complain about having a beautiful woman wrapped around him, but it tends to put you in a pissy mood when it’s a woman you love but can’t have. 

Dean was ass over tea kettle for Y/N, but he’d never tell her that. She deserved so much better than being saddled with a man who could barely stand his own company most days. He drank too much, and he wasn’t good at communicating how he felt. He knew that. Sam had told him many times he needed to learn to open up, but he didn’t want to burden anyone with the shitshow that was his mind. Especially her. So, as with his other emotions, he pushed his love for her deep and tried to ignore it. Lately, that hadn’t been working so well. As he lay there telling himself all the reasons he couldn’t have her, a sound caught his attention. He tiptoed to the door, cracking it slowly, and what he saw had him rushing out the door. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he quizzed her as he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. Her sobs were what he’d heard. 

“I’m fine, Dean. Go back to bed,” she hiccuped through her tears. She couldn’t tell him the full truth. 

“Obviously, you are the opposite of fine. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, placing her chin between his thumb and index finger to turn her face to him, “Is this about today?” 

“Partially,” she admitted, trying to turn her head back to the window, but his grip wouldn’t let her.

“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. I know I was being an ass, but I had no idea it would hurt your feelings like that. Can you explain to me why? I’m not trying to fight. I honestly don’t understand.” 

“I’ve tried to get rid of the ‘hillbilly’ stigma since I left this place. It's always the same thing whenever someone finds out where I’m from. There’s this image people have about people from the Appalachian mountains that just aren’t true. We’re not a bunch of ignorant, uneducated people who live deep in the woods and never come out. Unfortunately, movies and TV shows have depicted us in such a bad light that most people think that’s all we are. And when that term comes from the man you…” she gasped, catching what she almost said. But Dean caught it as well. 

“The man you what, Y/N?” he asked, holding his breath. Was she about to admit what he thought? Maybe, just maybe, he could try to be better, be the man she deserved if she loved him too. 

“Dean…” she whimpered, trying to turn away from him again, but he wasn’t letting her go now. 

“Uh uh, say it. Say it, Y/N,” he pleaded, his eyes staring into hers, “Were you going to say the man you loved?” 

“Yes! Okay? I was going to say the man I loved!” she shouted in frustration as she jumped from the couch, finally breaking Dean’s hold on her, “Now, go ahead and tell me that you don’t see me that way, tell me that you don’t want me, so I can prepare to pack my shit and leave when we get back to the bunker. Because I can’t stay there and see you every day after your rejection. I just can’t.” 

Dean stood and walked to her as she stood staring out the window, her back to him after her confession. He touched her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. Her look of sadness and despair nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He thought having his heart literally ripped out would hurt less than seeing her like this. He slid his hand up from her shoulder to cup her cheek. A tear trickled down her face as she closed her eyes at his touch, and he swiped it away with his thumb. 

“Is that what you want me to tell you, or do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked softly, waiting for her to open her eyes, which didn’t take a split second. Her eyes went wide. 

“What are you saying?” she uttered shakily. 

“I’m saying that I love you, too, Y/N. I have for a long time.” 

“But, but,” she stuttered, trying to find her words, “You were so mad at me when we woke up this morning. That isn’t how someone acts when they love the person in bed with them.” 

“Sweetheart, I was mad because I opened my eyes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen curled up against me, and all I could think was how I wanted it to mean something, and I didn’t think it ever would. If I’m being honest, you could do so much better. And thinking I’d never have you that way pissed me off because I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you, Y/N. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and I fall asleep picturing you beside me. I know I’m not a good man, and there’s someone out there that could and would give you more than I’ll ever be able to, but if you really love me, I’m going to be selfish for one time in my fucking life and ask you to give me a chance. I can guarantee that I’m going to piss you off and probably hurt your feelings again, but it will never be intentional. So, what do you say? You want to give us a shot?” He poured his heart out to her, leaning his forehead against hers as he waited for an answer. 

“Dean, contrary to what you believe, you are a good man. You love with your whole being and fiercely protect those lucky enough to get that love. I know you don’t believe you deserve it, but you deserve the world, Dean Winchester, and I’d be honored to be the one to try and give it to you.” 

“Really?” he asked with a million-watt smile, leaning back to look her in the eye. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she returned his smile, both sighing in relief. 

“Come here,” he growled, pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately. 

The kiss was better than either had imagined, and they both poured the love they felt for the other into it. They stayed that way until the need to breathe became too much, pulling away with smiles. He pulled her into a hug, laying his head on top of hers. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence. 

“So, you want to move your stuff into my room when we get back? 

“I don’t know, Dean,” she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip, “I really think we need to take this as slowly as possible. Make sure that we’re going to last.” 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” he agreed, his heart clenching at the hurt he felt. 

“I’m just joking,” she laughed, poking him in the ribs, “You’re not going to get rid of me now!” 

“Damn it, Y/N! That wasn’t funny! You almost gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, not finding her joke all that funny. 

“I think I’m hilarious,” she smirked up at him. 

“You’re something, alright. Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We have a lot of packing to do when we get home,” he suggested, leading her toward the bedroom, “You have a lot of shit. I don’t know where we’re going to put it all.” 

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned, “Well, we could always get rid of your vinyl collection to make room.” 

“Hey! Those are fighting words,” he growled playfully, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. 

“Bring it on, old man,” she cackled as his eyes shot up his forehead in shock. 

“I’ll show you an old man!” he said in faux anger, chasing her into the bedroom. 

All that could be heard as the bedroom door shut was the laughter and playful banter between the new couple, and that’s how it stayed for the years to come.

@flamencodiva​ @foxyjwls007​ @emoryhemsworth​ ​​ @valsworldofcreativity​​ @hardcoresupernaturalfans​​

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@muhahaha303​ @maggiegirl17​ @slamminmine​ @ladysparkles78 @deanwinchestersgirl27 ​

[purplephantomwolf]

Tethered Time

Logan Sargeant Soulmate AU

Chapter Two

Synopsis: Everyone has a timer on their wrist. It counts down the time until you hear your soulmates voice for the first time. After you hear their voice, it changes to the time until you meet them for the first time.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings for this chapter: None

Previous Chapters: Chapter One

Masterlist

I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER SO IF I MISSED ANYTHING I AM SORRY AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW. This is the last chapter as an OC rewrite.

December 25, 2022

10 months 4 days

     “We have one last gift for you, Y/n,” your mom says, handing you an envelope. You grab it from her, tearing it open. You look inside and drop it in shock. Multiple paddock passes fall out of it. 

     “Oh my god! You didn’t!!” You shout, picking them up. You see passes for multiple races. 

     “Since Logan is in Formula 1 now, we got you two passes for every race in North America but Las Vegas. We figured this would be a Christmas, birthday, and college graduation present all wrapped into one,” my dad says.

     “Thank you so much! This, this is amazing,” you grin. You launch yourself at your parents in a hug. They laugh and hug you back. You do a little happy dance, before grabbing the passes. You inspect them, grinning. 

     “We figured you’d take Tucker to at least one race,” your mom says. 

     “I will probably take him to every race, considering you guys don’t like watching it,” you shrug. Your parents nod. You set your passes down, grabbing your phone to call Tucker. 

     “Merry Christmas!” He greets you. 

     “How would you like to go to four Formula 1 races this year?” You ask, not bothering to greet him. The line goes silent. “Tucker?” You prompt him. 

     “Are you serious?” He shrieks in your ear. You pull your phone away from your ear, wincing. 

     “Yes, I’m serious. My parents got me two passes to almost every race in North America this year,” you tell him, grinning. 

     “Yes! YES! I would love to go!” He yells, causing you to pull your phone away from your ear again. “Where do we sit at each of them?!” He asks, excited. 

     “They’re paddock passes,” you explain. You pull your phone away again, knowing he’s about to yell again. 

     “HOLY SHIT, Y/N! TELL YOUR PARENTS I LOVE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH!” He screams. You turn to your parents, and they’re covering their laughter. 

     “We love you too, Tucker,” your mom calls out to him. 

     “I’ve got to go now, Y/n, but we will be discussing details of this later,” Tucker says. 

     “Sounds good. Merry Christmas, Tucker,” you say. He wishes you a merry Christmas before hanging up. You grab the passes to go put them somewhere safe. 

     You sprint down the stairs to thank your parents again. “Thank you again!” You hug them again. 

     “Of course, we want you to get every chance you can to meet Logan, so we thought this would be good,” your mom says. Your dad nods in agreement. 

     You smile at them before starting to mess around with the new camera lens they got you. 

************************************************************************

May 5, 2022

5 months 24 days

     “I can’t believe we’re actually in Miami to watch a Formula 1 race,” Tucker says, his head going every which way as we enter the paddock. Your head is also turning every which way, trying to see everything you can.

     “I can’t believe it, too. Come on! Let’s go look at the hospitalities!” You grab his arm, dragging him towards where you can see the hospitalities. We spend the next 10 minutes looking into as many hospitality windows as possible. “This is so cool!” You laugh happily. 

     Tucker sees something and takes off. “Come on, Y/n!” He shouts over his shoulder. We’re in front of the Williams hospitality. You linger, not wanting to leave. You know that there’s still basically 6 months until you meet Logan, but you’re hopeful that you’ll still get a glimpse of him in person before then. “Y/n, let’s go! I want to get some Ferrari merch before it sells out!” Tucker calls out to me. 

     “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You say, turning to follow him. You take off after him, not looking back at Williams hospitality. You catch up with him and head towards the area selling merch. “I want to grab some Williams merch,” You say, when you arrive. You split up in the store to go to the different team sections. You grab a Logan hat and a Williams jacket and head towards the check out. Tucker appears behind you, and you laugh when you see his arms loaded with Ferrari merch. “Got enough merch?” You snicker. 

     “No, I need you to hold these for me,” he says, a serious look on his face. Your jaw drops in shock, before he breaks out in laughter. “I’m kidding, this is everything,” he says. You nod and you check out. 

     After checking out, you head up to the paddock club. You take a seat just as FP1 starts. 

************************************************************************

Logan’s POV

1 minutes 12 seconds

     I glance at my wrist and then around the hospitality. My timer says there’s only a minute left until I hear my soulmate's voice, but everyone around me are people I’ve talked to before. The door at the entrance opens, and I look up hopeful. I sigh in disappointment when James Vowels walks through the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” I hear a female’s voice say as the door closes. In an instant, I’m out of my seat, pushing past a confused James. My wrist is burning, but I ignore it. I slam the door open and sprint out. My head is whipping in every direction, trying to find the source of the voice. My face falls when I can’t pinpoint who the owner of the voice is. I glance down at my wrist and my face falls even more when I see 5 months and 24 days. 

     I head back inside the hospitality. I spot James and Alex standing at the door, watching me. “What’s the matter?” James asks me. 

     “I heard my soulmate’s voice, but I won't meet her for another 5 months, 24 days, and some hours and minutes,” I sigh. I get looks of pity from both Alex and James. I just shake my head and head downstairs to the garage. 

************************************************************************

Your POV

5 months 22 days

     “Man, what a disappointing race for Logan. To finish last at your home race must hurt,” Tucker sighs, as you walk out of the paddock. 

     “Yeah, I hope he has a good support system of friends to cheer him up,” you nod in agreement. 

     “If only you two had met before, you’re really good at cheering people up,” Tucker says, bumping shoulders with you. You grin, thanking him. 

************************************************************************

June 18, 2023

Canadian GP

4 months 11 days

     “No!” You shout when you see Logan’s car pull over to the side of the track. You groan, my head dropping into my hands. 

     “His car was giving off a critical error, so it’s good that he stopped,” Tucker shouts over the crowd of the noise and cars. You nod, letting him know you heard him. 

     “Still sucks though,” you grumble, arms crossed. You sigh and turn your attention back to the race. 

************************************************************************

October 22, 2023

COTA

7 days

     “How do you feel knowing you’ve got one week until you meet Logan?” Tucker asks as you lay in your beds at the hotel. 

     “Nervous, but excited. What if he doesn’t like me?” You turn to look at him. 

     “He’ll like you, it’s hard not to,” Tucker scoffs. His phone vibrates and he grabs it. 

    You turn away from him to stare at the ceiling. “Thanks, but can we talk about how amazing he did today?! He finished P12!” You exclaim. 

     “P10,” Tucker says. 

     Your head whips toward him, with a confused look on your face. “No, he finished P12.”

     “He may have finished P12, but he’s now P10 because Hamilton and Leclerc were just disqualified,” Tucker tells you, staring at his phone. He turns it towards you, and you read the article from Formula 1. 

     “OH MY GOD LOGAN JUST GOT HIS FIRST POINTS IN FORMULA 1!!!” You screech, flying out of bed. You do a little happy dance around the room. Tucker watches you, laughing. He holds his phone up, recording you. You stick your tongue out at him. “Yeah yeah, you can laugh. You’re just the same way when your boyfriend does something you’re proud of,” you wave your hand. 

     “I know,” Tucker grins, “This video is going to Carter.” 

     “Tell him hi for me,” you say, falling onto the bed. 

     “I will,” Tucker responds, typing away on his phone. 

************************************************************************

Logan’s POV

7 days

     “How do you feel about getting your first points?” Alex sits down across from me on the plane. 

     “Happy, excited,” I respond, grinning. I post the picture I took when learning that I earned points on Instagram. I subconsciously rub my fingers over the timer on my wrist. I notice Alex glancing at it. 

     “How much time is left?” He asks, leaning forward. 

     “7 days,” I breathe out. 

     His eyes widen, “Getting close then. Are you excited?”

     “Very, I’ve been waiting for this for years. But I’m also extremely nervous. What if she doesn’t like me? What if she doesn’t like what I do?” I rhetorically ask. 

     “Well, considering you heard her voice while at the Miami GP, and you meet her during the Mexico GP, I’m going to go with she likes what you do,” he points out. 

     “Yeah, you’re right. But that still doesn’t mean she’ll like me,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. 

     “I doubt she’ll dislike you, you’re a likable guy,” Alex says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got this. It’ll be okay.”

     “Thanks, Alex,” I sigh, looking up at him. 

     “Of course,” he nods, getting up to go sit with his girlfriend, Lily. 

     I close my eyes to sleep on the flight to Mexico.

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 2 -

Authors note: thank you guys sooooo much for the love I received on Part 1. I used to write so much, but gave a lot of it up, this is my first tumblr account and I really wanted to give my writing a shot on here. Thank you again, sooo much🥹❤️

“Really? Thought we agreed that we would pretend that didn’t happen?” I roll my eyes

“What if I don’t want to forget about it?” He asked

“Well that’s not what we agreed on” I state, “Mack would be really mad about that”

“You do realize Logan flirts with you 24/7 and all she does is laugh” Drew points out

“Yeah cause she knows it’s 100% jokes on both sides” I explain

“Maddie, we talked for hours and made out for like 20 minutes and you ran off… I don’t think Mackayla would be that pissed about it.. besides, I haven’t had that good of a conversation with anybody ever in my life. I’m not asking to be any more than just friends, I just really enjoyed having somebody to talk to like that” he explained

“We can be friends, that’s it” I state

“Okay, cool. But, I do have one question” he says

“What?” I ask looking over at him

“Why did you run off?” He asks

“Beca——“ I started but my phone started to ring. Saved by the bell. I look down and see that it’s Mack calling me, “yes ma’am?” I answer

“Why have y’all been at a stop sign for like 5 minutes?” She asks and I can’t help but laugh

“Me and Drew were talking about Lilian and he was showing me pictures he has taken, why?” I lie, watching as Drew gave me a weird look and I point for him to start driving

“Oh, okay, well will you grab us a big bottle of fireball while your out, I forgot to add that to the list” she explained

“Yea as long as you stop stalking me” I laugh

“Fireball is for you ma’am, and I will never stop stalking you, y’all be careful and hurry up” she said

“Sir yes sir” I laugh before hanging up

“She’s stalking us?” Drew asked

“Yep, so get a move on” I say

“You never answered my question” he said

“And it got interrupted for a reason” I state keeping my eyes on the road ahead of us, “man, I forgot how much I missed this place”

“Yeah the views are beautiful” he says and I feel his eyes on me, causing me to glance over at him

“Can you keep your eyes on the road?” I laugh

“Hard to” he says grinning before winking at me

“Get me to this liquor store and back in one piece please” I beg making him laugh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the way back to the house, I did everything in my power to not let that question come up again. How was I supposed to answer it.. why did I run? How was I supposed to explain that just in a few hours of talking, I had fallen for my bestfriends brother and then the feelings grew 20x more the second his lips touched mine. Mack would be furious probably, especially knowing we snuck off at her wedding to make out. I can’t do that to her. The more his hands touched me and the tighter his arms got around me, the more it hit me like a truck that I couldn’t do this, not to Mack, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I can’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Hey, we’re here” Drew said shaking her arm pulling me out of my thoughts, “you okay?”

“Perfect” I say shooting him a quick smile before opening the door and sliding out.

Logan came rushing out of the house to the passenger side of the truck as I smile up at him.

“I’ll get this, you go ahead and go inside” he tells me and I nod, quickly going inside only to be met with Mack and Lilian at the door.

“Everything go fine, figured an alcohol run would be a good ice breaker for you two to get to know each other” Mack said

“Oh yeah, he’s very sweet” I smile at her before making grabby hands for Lilian, to which is happily handed her over.

“Yeah, he’s awesome, did the liquor store have everything on the list?” She asked

“Yes ma’am, felt like alcoholics coming out” I said making us both laugh as we watch the boys walk up to the door. Lilian making noises as soon as she sees Drew come into view making him smile real big down at her before glancing up at me holding her. I smile back at him as I follow behind Mack into the kitchen after the boys.

“Okay, so most of everything needs to go in the patio fridge, I’ll grab what I want to stay in here” Mack says as we all stand around waiting for her to separate everything. I rearrange Lilian and put her on my other hip, looking up and finding Drew’s eyes on me, causing me to raise an eyebrow, to which he just winked back. I shake my head but can’t help but slightly smile.

“Mads, you want your stuff in here or outside?” She asks

“In here, duh” I say immediately reaching for the fireball and going to stick it in the freezer.

“What else do you drink?” Drew asked

“She’s a hard liquor girl if she gets to choose” Mack answered for me

“Pretty much” I laugh as drew nods crossing his arms

“Hey uh Mack, would you be okay with me asking Austin and chase to go out with us tomorrow?” Drew asked

“Yeah, of course, are they the only two in town?” She asked

“Yeah, as far as I know” he answered as she nodded.

“Let me go call them before I forget” he said before walking out

“You’ll love Chase and Austin” Mack said catching my attention

“Well if you do, I’m sure I will too” I smile

“And they love to dance” she said shaking her shoulders making me and Lilian giggle, “so maybe you can find you a new dance partner” she added

“Yeah maybe so” I say shrugging as Drew walks back in.

“They’ll be here, you may have a house full tomorrow since your house is closest” Drew says

“They know where everything is, they’ll just have to crash on the couches or floor this time… that is, unless one gets on Maddie’s good side” she said wiggling her eyebrows, making mine and Drew’s eye widen

“Please don’t say that” I plead

“What? I’m just saying, I mean, I think Chase is talking to someone but Austin, he’s single and ready to mingle the last I heard” she giggled

“I’m really good” I laugh nervously

“C’mon Maddie, you haven’t told me anything about a guy in like 2 years, wouldn’t hurt to keep look” she winked at me making me shake my head

“Okay, so all the rest of this goes outside?” Drew changed the subject going to pick up bottle and cases, glancing up at me a few times with a clenched jaw.

“Yes, please” she answered as Drew walked out and towards the back patio door, Logan following close behind.

“So, I was thinking, we have a little pool party of our own while the boys grill later?” She asks

“Sounds good to me” I say as she walks closer to me wrapping her arms around me

“I’m so glad you’re here” she says, “I’m so ready to have you completely back in the same state”

“You’re just ready to have a babysitter at any time” I laugh

“I mean, your not wrong, buuut I’ll also be able to have a girls night anytime we want really” she explains

“Also true” I agree as she smiles at me as the boys walk back in as Garrett comes in the front door.

“Who’s ready for burgers??” He yells

“We arrrre” Logan yells back

“Hey baby” Garrett says walking over to Mackayla giving her a kiss

“Hey, thought we could all go for a swim while your grilling, that okay?” She asks

“Yeah, fine with me” he smiled, “I’m just gonna go fire the grill up, get everything put together and get them going, y’all go ahead”

“Alright, swimsuits everybody” she yells pushing the boys towards the stairs, me following behind.

“Does Garrett have a pair we can borrow?” Drew asks

“That’s where we’re going” Mack sings making me laugh a little

“You have a swimsuit, right?” She glances back at me

“Yes ma’am, you want me to go grab one for Lils?” I ask her

“Yes please, her swimsuits should be in the third or fourth drawer” she says and I nod walking towards Lilian’s room.

“Alright Ms. Lilian, what color should we do?” I ask her pulling the drawer out, “want duckies or daisies?” I asks snd she jerks around in my arm making me laugh as she reaches for the bright pink swimsuit with little yellow daisies. “Daisies it is” I smile putting the other one back in the drawer and turning towards her changing table, looking for a swimming diaper. “There they are” I mumble to myself before grinning at Lilian. Once I get her changed, I turn to head towards my room but stop in my tracks when I see Drew standing at the door with his hand leaned up against the frame, every muscle in this man’s arms and chest flexing, smiling down at me

“You’re really good with her” he says calmly, as if he isn’t making my heart, brain, and eyes explode in this very moment

“Thanks” I smile trying oh so hard to keep my eyes on his and not anywhere else.

“You want me to take her so you can go change?” He asks me

“Yeah if you don’t mind” I say as he reaches for her. I walk across the hall into my room and unzip my suitcase, digging around until I find my swimsuits. I pull out my favorite black two piece bikini and quickly change into it but start to hear excited voices downstairs. When I walk out, I see Mack walking back upstairs,

“Hey, Chase and Austin are here, I think Drew told them Garrett was grilling and they hurried on over, was just gonna let you know” she said before glancing down at my swimsuit, “you look smokin” she said putting her hand on her hip, nodding at me.

“You too hot momma” I laughed looking at her bright pink bikini as she grabbed my hand pulling me down the stairs.

“Chase! Austin!” She yells causing them to glance up as we come down the stairs. My eyes immediately locking with Austin’s as he just smiled at me, “this is my bestfriend from college, Madison, Maddie, Mads, dumbass, whatever you prefer” she introduces making me swat at her arm, “Mads, this is Austin and Chase” she says as they both smile at me.

“Nice to meet y’all” I say

“Nice to meet you too” Chase says

“You mind if I just call you beautiful?” Austin says making my eyes wide and cheeks redden as Mack elbows me a little

“Uh um.. yeah. I mean, I guess that’s fine” I nervously say looking up at him as he smiled back at me. I see Drew in the corner of my eye turn away and scratch the back of his head before walking outside.

“Let’s go help Garret dude” Chase says as he catches Austin’s attention again before pushing him outside

“Looks like Austin is interested” she said poking my side

“I need a drink” I say walking into the kitchen, going straight to the freezer and opening up the new bottle of fireball, taking a few swigs.

“Did he make you that nervous?” She asked laughing

“You have no idea…” I say taking another swig thinking about Mack’s brother instead of the man she thinks I’m actually thinking about…

To be continued…

Tag list: (if you want to be added, just let me know❤️)

@percysley @dilfs-4life

[deadpresidents]

I’m curious about the friendship between Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter (and presidential friendships in general,) I’d like to know what that looked like for them. Would they go and do things together or was it just a few phone calls a year?

Their relationship is really interesting because during the 1976 campaign and in the years right afterward, Ford and Carter genuinely did not like each other. It wasn't a normal, opponent vs. opponent rivalry, either. They straight-up disliked one another, and that was extremely unusual for Gerald Ford, who got along with practically everybody he met throughout his life, rarely had bad things to say about other people, and was almost physically incapable of being unkind to others, no matter what side of the political spectrum they belonged to.

What changed was when President Reagan sent all the living former Presidents -- Nixon, Ford, and Carter -- to Cairo in 1981 to attend Anwar Sadat's funeral following Sadat's assassination. The three former Presidents all flew together on one of the planes normally used as Air Force One, and there was some tension at the beginning, but the person who broke the ice, oddly enough, ended up being Richard Nixon. Ford then suggested that the former Presidents should drop all formalities and just refer to one another as Dick, Jerry, and Jimmy. As Ford remembered, "I guess we figured we were gonna be in a plane together forty hours, more or less, and in order to be pleasant, it was a good idea to just wipe the slate clean, which we did." Ford and Carter eventually started bonding, partly over the fact that Ronald Reagan was a major reason why each of them ultimately lost their respective bids for re-election.

At the time, Carter was having trouble building his Presidential Library, and he asked Ford for some advice since Ford had just recently opened his library. When Carter mentioned he was having some issues raising money for the library, Ford offered to come down and appear at fundraisers for him, and asked Carter to return the favor and visit the Ford Library for an event.

As Thomas M. DeFrank writes in his 2007 book, Write It When I'm Gone: Remarkable Off-the-Record Conversations With Gerald R. Ford (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO):

"Carter accepted, triggering a Jimmy-Jerry tag team match extending over several years. These back-scratching appearances didn't convert them into friends, but the relationship was notably friendlier. They began staying in regular contact, talking on the phone, and exchanging birthday greetings. Their contacts were sufficiently public that some of Ford's closest political allies grumbled that he was spending altogether too much time with Carter -- not unlike similar complaints from [George H.W.] Bush 41 partisans today that he hangs around Bill Clinton too much. Ford brushed off the complaints. Beyond their shared practical interests in Presidential Libraries, another unifying bond was at play. Both ex-Presidents had strong reasons not to like Ronald Reagan, which helped cement their ties even though neither one would ever admit it publicly. To one old Ford friend, the calculation was simple: 'Once you did something for his library or museum, you were a friend for life.'"

As they got older, Ford and Carter would sometimes make joint appearances at Presidential Libraries or universities, or events for important causes, and they even wrote a joint op-ed during the Monica Lewinsky scandal urging Congress to censure President Clinton instead of impeaching him. They felt it was a bad precedent (which it has clearly turned out to be) and would be bad for the country. Unlike Ford, Jimmy Carter wasn't very easy-going or personable, so there were times when their friendship would get a little frayed. Ford once told a friend, "Well, you know Jimmy. He can be a real pain in the ass, but we get along."

Eventually, they promised one another that they would deliver the eulogy if the other former President died first. President Ford died first, on December 26, 2006, and Carter attended every event during the several days of ceremonies, from Ford's lying in state at the U.S. Capitol, to the national funeral service at the Washington National Cathedral, and traveled with Ford's family and the former President's remains to Ford's hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan. At the church service in Grand Rapids, Carter delivered his eulogy, and also attended the private interment service when Ford was buried as at his Presidential Library. In his eulogy, Carter repeated the gracious first words he had said when delivering his Inaugural Address on the day he took over the White House from Ford in 1977, "For myself and for my nation, I want to thank my predecessor for all he has done to heal our land." It was a remarkable relationship between two former Presidents who, again, genuinely disliked one another for quite some time.

[jazeswhbhaven]

SitrixOC Astra (Third POV) Tags/Warnings: Vanilla, Fluff with porn, vaginal penetration, heavy petting, cardiophilia, Non-canon, Canon character x OC character Words: 2K+

Astra stood up, her head swimming after finishing the contract removal ritual with Sitri. Being only the second time she had performed this, it was natural that she would feel a bit woozy. 

Damn, I never expected to be this sick. But then again…I’m not from hell…

Ppyong looked at her, flying around in circles with a concerned look. “I think it’s time again, aye! Miss Astra, do you need it?” 

Astra looked up at Ppyong, trying to smile away the nausea that suddenly appeared. It was that time again, but she felt it was too soon. She had just received energy from Satan about a day ago. Or so she thought since the sun technically had not set yet. But who knew how time worked here? A day in Hell could mean two on Earth. 

“I’ll be fine, Pp-” Astra struggles to finish her sentence, nearly bending over and placing a hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up. She also felt like her lungs were caving in, each breath she took being harder than the last. 

“It’s time,” Sitri says, standing up and gently rubbing Astra’s back. She sat up and looked over at Satan who was staring at her wordlessly. 

“Okay, I admit it. I need energy again. But isn’t it too soon?” Astra gasps, holding onto Sitri’s sleeve.

“No, it’s your first time in Hell. You’ll need it more often until you’re used to it.” Satan spoke plainly as if Astra should already know this. She rolls her eyes and squints her eyes at him. 

“Then, will it be you again? Mister, chokes a lot.” She added sass to her voice, which made Satan chuckle boyishly as if he’d pulled the biggest “gotcha” moment. But Sitri kept rubbing her back and answered her question instead. 

“You have already exchanged energy with His Majesty. It would be wise to choose another devil now so one source won’t be exhausted.” 

“Oh.” Astra stood up fully, exchanging a glance between Satan and Sitri while rubbing her thumbs together. “So, I’ll be with you next?” 

Satan frowned, unable to hide his distaste but he knew Sitri was right. “Yeah. Astra, think of the place where you’re most comfortable. Like before.” 

“So we’re doing this now?” 

“Yes. Now.” 

Astra exhales slowly, letting her mind go at ease as she thinks of Minhyeok’s room. It felt odd, just like last time as if she were using his room in real time though it was just an illusion. She wasn’t actually in his room. She wondered if she could get over the guilt of having her first time be with Satan while doing it on what was a manifestation of her childhood best friend’s bed. Though, it was useless to dwell in the past. It already happened, and she needed this to stay alive. 

At the same time while zoning out, she could overhear Satan’s conversation with Sitri. 

“Hey.” 

Sitri stares at his superior, straight-faced as usual and attentive. “Yes, your Majesty?” 

“She’s mine.” 

“....I’m aware.” 

Satan was satisfied with the answer, not wanting to cause problems with his subordinate. However, there was something backhanded about Sitri’s statement that made him want to kick his ass. It was as if that lingering attitude he picked up from Hades was taunting him. 

“Your Majesty, aren’t you going with Miss Astra this time, aye?” Ppyong asks genuinely while flying around closely to the slightly ticked-off king. 

Satan swatted at Ppyong, scoffing and clicking his tongue.

“They sound like we’re in one of those dramas.” Astra thinks to herself, highly amused. Even though it was tempting, there was no time for Astra to say anything or focus on their banter, as Minhyeok’s room came into view. 

It’s cold again. Wait…

Astra took a look down, her body bare like last time. 

“Well fuck where did my clothes go again?” She covers her breasts, looking around for some kind of cover until- 

“Solomon.” 

Astra jumped, tripping over her own feet and landing on the bed behind her. In front of her stood Sitri, staring at her with pink cheeks while still holding a full cup of warm tea. 

“Nervous?” He asks, coming closer to her with a sincere tone to his voice. 

“No. Well, maybe. This is the second time I’m doing this.” Astra had to admit to herself that essentially having what was considered two dick appointments back to back was something out of the ordinary for someone like her. She was a virgin the night before, and now…

“Here, have some tea. It will help.” He offers his cup to her, Astra readily accepting. The smell emitting from it is fragrant and soothing, as she takes her first sip to test the temperature. It was smooth, quite honestly the most perfectly brewed tea she ever had in her life. Before she knew it the entire cup was gone, Sitri grinning from ear to ear as he took the cup back from her. 

“Sitri that was amazing…I’m already feeling-” Astra paused, putting her hand to her chest as her heart thumped wildly. The room was quiet, but now it sounded more like a symphony with her pulse echoing throughout the walls. She looked at Sitri, who was so red in the face and trembling that she knew something was not right. 

“Wait, this tea…is there caffeine in it?” 

“Why yes, it’s black tea.” 

Astra stood up, uncrossing her arms and pointing at Sitri with a firm pout, and her brow furrowed. “Sitri, this won’t calm me down. My heart feels like it’s on overdrive!” 

The other steps up to her, reaching his hand behind her head and bending down to take her lips in a slow and deep kiss. This was much deeper and intimate than the first time she met him. His tongue explored the remnants of the tea lingering in her mouth, his moans and whimpers flowed into her as he brought her closer to his body. 

“Your heartbeat…it sounds heavenly. So good…so loud.” He rasps, his deep pink hues meeting her gaze. 

Astra now could pay attention to the details of his eyes. His pupils, blue upside-down crosses. Swirls of deep and light pink in his irises mesmerized her and made her forget that she gulped down enough caffeine to have her wired for theoretically a week. 

“Solomon, your heartbeat…before then it was hard to concentrate on it. Erratic, mysterious, uncharted. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But now, this simple, steady beat is enough. And I like it a lot.” 

Astra’s head was hazy from the kiss, but she then felt an overwhelming emotion. Disdain. There was one thing she couldn’t stand about Sitri since she arrived, and it was how she was constantly…ever so…compared to her ancestral grandfather. 

“I’m not him.” She gently pushes Sitri away, turning her back to him. “I don’t want to be compared to him. I don’t even know the man and you’re comparing me to him.” 

“Solomon, I didn’t mean-” 

“My name is Astra, Sitri. Astra. A-S-T-R-A. There is no Solomon in that name. Only in my blood. Don’t call me by his name when we’re like this. I don’t…I don’t like it.” With her heightened heartbeat, even more wild now that she was upset, the room shakes in response to her current state. Sitri’s arms wrap around her from behind, his lips against her neck as he gently kisses up to her earlobe. 

“I’m sorry that I’ve offended you, I don’t call you that to compare. It’s just…I’m so used to” 

“Then get used to me. Sitri.” Astra turns around, staring into Sitri’s eyes again before kissing his cheek, then his lips once more, wrapping her arms around his neck. In seconds, she’s lifted off the floor into his arms, her legs around his waist to brace herself as he carries her to the bed. With a gentle flop, Astra lands on her back, smiling and placing her foot on his chest to playfully push him back. 

Sitri smiles, taking off his top, the silky black fabric pulling over his head and falling to the floor revealing a well-toned, muscular physique that he was hiding effectively under it. Astra’s heart thumps louder upon seeing his frame, his tattoos now showing, and his waist, the ratio to his thighs better than any male model or porn star she’s seen before. 

“Wow...Sitri..” She gasps, feeling the arousal increase between her thighs. She reaches out to touch him letting the definition of his muscles flex and react to her fingertips. He sighed, leaning closer to kiss her forearm and flashing a gaze at her that was teaming with ecstasy. 

“You’re getting excited…if you could hear what I hear-” He shudders and exhales again, his eyes closing and opening slowly. “...you would understand how aroused I am right now.” 

Astra sits up, scooting her body closer to Sitri, her hands now at his waist teasing the waistband of his pants. 

“I want these off.” She says in a low voice, giving the other an innocent look. Sitri wastes no time, his pants removed in record time as they too hit the floor along with his underwear. Astra’s eyes take in the shape and size of his cock, noting that he was about the same size as Satan but slightly thicker. 

She allows Sitri to lift her once again, positioning her hips at the right angle before the tip of him kisses her entrance. Astra’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she keeps her eyes locked with his. With a small nod to give him the signal, she feels his shaft slowly push past her wet folds. A whimpering noise escapes her throat, her head burying in Sitri’s neck and chest as she takes him all in one go until he bottoms out. Sitri sits for a minute, slowly breathing as his chest rises and falls. She could tell by the way he gripped her waist that he was savoring the moment, and pressing her chest against his so he could feel her heart thump faster now that he was nestled deep within her. 

“So…good. So steady. I want to hear more…” Sitri whispers in her ear before he pulls out and snaps his hips upward, causing Astra to gasp and cry out suddenly. He then evens out his strokes to the beat of her heart, the rhythm following closely at the same time hitting the right spots over and over. Astra felt no pain, only pleasure as she held onto Sitri the best she could. The way he was fucking her was more gentle, more sensual than Satan. Each thrust had meaning but was just as powerful and unrelenting. 

Before she knew it she was on her back, staring up at him from below as her chest felt as if it were on fire. Her heartbeat was rising, the steady thumps turning into fast-paced pulses as if she were running a marathon. 

“You’re showing off, is that for me?” Sitri asks with a grin on his face before leaning down and kissing the area where her heart was located. He bit down on the flesh, swirling his tongue before focusing on her breast and taut nipple. Astra arches her back, her legs not letting go of Sitri’s waist as he continues to pump into her wildly. Her hand curiously roams down his thigh, taking a handful of his toned and plump ass and squeezing it tightly. Sitri moans and pauses his movements, biting his lips, shaking, and looking at Astra with wild eyes. 

“Again, please.” He begs in bated breath. Astra grins and uses both hands to grasp his ass and mold the flesh between her fingers. She couldn’t believe he was so sensitive by just having his backside massaged when he took so many kicks from Satan. Perhaps it was different during sex, as with each squeeze and tap his cock swelled and throbbed inside her. 

“Oh, Sitri…you’re so hard you’re stretching me out…” Astra pants, the blue-haired devil leaning down to take her lips in a fervent kiss as continues to stay dormant in his position. As Astra kept her hands firm on his ass, he swirled his tongue with hers, growling and pressing his chest against hers.

As she pulls back from the kiss, that’s when she notices Sitri’s horn is gleaming in the light, covered in the same milky substance she experienced when playing with Satan’s horns. She grabs it, rubbing it vigorously. Sitri moans loudly, the sensation causing him to pause in his thrusting before he changes his pattern, his strokes now deep and in unison with her hand movements. 

“Yes…like that…fuck…” Sitri’s eyes close as he bites his lip.

Astra felt herself clench around his shaft, excited to hear Sitri curse as he did. He appeared so well-mannered and distinguished that he was like a different devil in the bedroom. She couldn’t say much more, the stimulation from the caffeine, the sex, and even stroking his horn was overwhelming. It was as if everything he felt, she could too. At the same time, she was moments away from passing out, her climax reaching its peak. 

“Sitri…I can’t…I’m about to lose it!” Astra cries and grabs his forearms tightly as she throws her head back, her walls closing even tighter around his cock as spasms rippled through her core. For a moment she thought her heart stopped, but the gentle kisses of Sitri let her know that wasn’t the case.

“That’s it…just like that, Astra.” Sitri saying her voice so sweetly made her whimper as another wave of pleasure hit her, this time a bit of fluid coating the other’s cock as he pulled out and slid back in to help her ride it out. “We can stop here for now…it’s a lot of you to take this much energy. Normally, you’d be able to exchange much more and receive more but this is enough. We’ll try again at a later time.” 

Astra felt her exhaustion hit like a brick wall, limbs heavy and the wild thumps of her pulse finally regulating and slowing to a normal state. She looks at Sitri with tired eyes, reaching out to him to gently cup his cheek, his lips kissing her palm. 

“Sleep well,” Sitri says, his nails gently tracing her jaw down to her chest. Astra smiles weakly before closing her eyes, Sitri’s swollen cock still deep inside of her until she is softly snoring. He removes himself reluctantly, wishing he could stay like this with her for a while longer. But he knew well. 

“Someday, I’ll do what I want to with you…and that’s when I’ll let you know my true feelings.” He says, picking her up into his arms as they sat in the manifestation of Minheyok’s room in silence. The steady beat of her heart intertwined with Sitri’s being the only thing that played like music in his ears.

[dollsexua]

Focus on the movie

Recently I’ve been thinking about watching a movie with my bf and his friends.

it’s cold so we’re all snuggled up on different sofas, covered in thick blankets. It’s dark, the tv is on…a horror movie playing (annihilation if you’re wondering which one)

and of course my bf and I are hugging each other under the blanket, it’s innocent at first. apart from my adamant need to be the big spoon…for some reason.

I start by trailing my fingers along his arms and chest and nestling my face into his neck. he looks back at me and smiles, but still thinks nothing of it, as I am always this affectionate right?

When the movie gets particularly interesting and I know everyone’s eyes are on the screen, that’s when I really take advantage. I slide my cold hands under his t-shirt, causing him to jolt in surprise.

he immediately twists around to look at me. ‘princess..what are you doing? my friends are right there!’ I can feel his face burning up, his embarrassment obvious.

‘do you want me…to stop?’ I whisper in his ear.

he doesn’t reply instantly, but as I await his response I slide my hands further up his chest and run my fingers over his nipples. knowing how sensitive he is.

he can’t help but let out a little moan before replying ‘no. please don’t stop’.

I shush him, reminding him that If he gets caught he will be the embarrassed one, not me.

this is where the real fun starts. I start by kissing his neck and ears, my hands still on his chest teasing where he is most sensitive. his frustration builds quickly, as he is already pushing back into me.

‘please touch me, more’ he begs.

I ignore him, knowing my silence will drive him even more crazy.

That’s when I feel a hand of his try to unzip his pants. I bite his ear in retaliation. He is obviously shocked by this as his whine of arousal is not quiet, in the slightest.

The friend nearest to us looks over. by then I have completely removed my hands and am feigning ignorance as punishment. the friend turns his head back to the screen ahead.

when I’m certain no one is looking I pull his head back by his hair and ask ‘do you want everyone to know what a needy little slut you are?, is that what this is about?’

I feel him go slack underneath me, almost as if to say he will no longer misbehave.

So I treat him. I unbuckle his pants and pull out his already throbbing length. I can tell he is resisting the urge to fuck himself silly with my hand.

So cute he is, trying to be a good boy for me. Trying to keep his impatience at bay. slowly I move my thumb over his tip, already leaking with precum.

He takes a sharp inhale of air and puts his own hand over his mouth.

I can barely contain my own excitement, I love seeing how helpless he gets from the slightest touch

I pleasure him faster, his hips bucking into my hand, I can hear his desperate shallow breaths. His head is leaning back into me, his eyes rolled back into his skull.

‘are you having fun baby?’ I ask. he can only shudder in response, he is obviously close..I twist my hand around his tip, twice for good measure.

and then I let go, with a smirk on my face.

he spins round to face me. ‘Why’d you stop?!’

And as my smile gets bigger and bigger I reply, ‘I’m watching the movie darling. so should you. don’t move or make a mess, you didn’t think I’d let you finish did you?’

I mean what did he expect. How uncouth and impolite to cum all over his friend’s blanket. After they so kindly invited us for a movie night. I would never allow that.

plus annihilation is a really good movie..

[eyneyke]

A Calm to my Storm

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max Masterlist

Stream

It was a typical charity stream, where PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and Markiplier joined forces to raise money for a good cause. Fans were having a blast watching their favourite creators laugh, joke, and stumble through different games. The vibe was lighthearted, the donations were pouring in, and everything was going smoothly—until they started a multiplayer match with a few random players.

Suddenly, they began getting obliterated by one player in particular. No matter what they did, this guy was wiping the floor with them.

“Who the heck is this?” Felix groaned, fake annoyance dripping from his voice as he respawned for the fifth time in a row. “Are we playing against an actual professional here?” Mark added.

The fans were going wild in the chat, spamming with questions like:

User1: “WHO IS THIS GUY??”

User2: “Is this a pro gamer? He’s wrecking everyone!”

User3: “Pewds, you getting owned! 😂”

While Felix continued to grumble, Jacksepticeye burst out laughing, catching the viewers' attention. “Ohhh, damn it. Isn't that Sam's username, Felix?”

Felix paused for a second, then his eyes widened. “Wait… Sam?!”

Markiplier chimed in with a dramatic sigh. “Well, we may as well just stop trying now. It’s over. If Sam’s in the game, we’re done. We’re all dead.”

The comments exploded even more.

User1: “SAM IS HERE???”

User2: “Not Pewds’ brother killing them all!!”

User3: “Sam, the secret brother who is also an editor, is also killing three gaming youtubers in gaming?!”

User4: “Are they really just quitting? 😂”

Despite their best efforts, no one could put up a decent fight against Sam. He was completely dominating, and all Felix, Jack, and Mark could do was helplessly laugh as they got destroyed over and over again. The whole thing turned into a comedy bit, with the trio of streamers making jokes about how they should just retire from gaming now that Sam was in the picture.

As the match dragged on, out of nowhere, Sam joined their Discord call.

“Yo, you guys really gonna keep playing like that?” Sam’s voice came through, teasing them. “You’re making this too easy.”

The three of them froze for a second, stifling laughter. Sam clearly didn’t know they were live in front of thousands of fans, and the chat absolutely exploded with excitement.

User1: “OMG SAM JOINED THE CALL!!”

User2: “He has no idea 😂”

User3: “Sam is roasting them, and he doesn’t even know it!”

Mark was the first to respond, holding back laughter. “Oh, we’re trying, Sam. Believe me, we’re trying. But apparently, you’re just too good for us.”

“Maybe you should start trying for real,” Sam teased. “I thought you guys were professional gamers. This is embarrassing.”

Felix faked another sigh of frustration. “I’m trying, okay? It’s hard when someone’s playing at 200% sweat mode.”

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, Sam, give us a break, alright? This is for charity, not to shatter our delicate egos.”

Sam laughed. “Sure, sure. Excuses.”

The three of them exchanged a look, clearly holding in their laughter. Not one of them had told Sam that the stream was live, and the fans were loving every second of it.

“Anyway,��� Sam continued, oblivious to the thousands of people watching, “I’ll go easy on you guys for a few rounds. Maybe you’ll actually put up a fight.”

Mark couldn’t take it anymore and cracked up. “You say that like we have a chance even if you go easy.”

Finally, Sam caught on to the laughter. “Wait… why are you guys laughing so much?”

There was a long pause, and then Jack, still laughing, said, “Sam, buddy… you’re live. With us. In front of… I dunno, how many people are watching, Felix?”

Felix checked the stream count. “Oh, just a casual 200,000 or so. No big deal.”

There was silence on Sam’s end, followed by a groan. “You didn’t tell me I was live!”

The chat exploded with laughter, hearts, and donations:

User1: “LOOOOOL Sam had no idea!”

User2: “Sam is literally roasting them live 😂”

User3: “Sam, you’re amazing! We need more of you on these streams!”

Felix grinned at the camera. “Well, now you know. And since everyone here is begging for more of you, how about you keep playing with us, huh?”

Sam groaned again, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Fine, fine. But you’re still going down.”

As the match restarted, the chat was filled with love for Sam, with everyone laughing about how easily he’d destroyed three professional YouTubers. Felix, Jack, and Mark tried their best to regain control of the game, but the banter between them and Sam had turned into the main highlight of the stream. Fans were already demanding more collabs with Pewds’ brother, and it was clear that Sam had accidentally become a star in his own right.

As the stream went on, Felix shot one final grin at the camera, “Guess we’re stuck with him now, bros. Better get used to it.”

[bnhaobservation]

@rhythmic-idealist said:

I’m gonna do my best to come back to this! A short response: the Iida family didn’t need Stain killed. Rather, Tenya needed saving, in that his villainous actions were also going to get him killed. Tenya is deemed worthy of saving, by the narrative, regardless of the fact that he was making horrible rage-fueled decisions. So that’s what I’m getting at when I say Tenya needed saving- he very much was going to die if Izuku hadn’t shown up in that alley. I am still trying to process why he was saved when Tenko and Himiko (and mostly Touya) weren’t, because BEFORE we knew the ending, the hero killer arc felt like a tone setter- you either have to condemn Tenya Iida to deserving to die, or believe Tenko and Himiko and Touya deserve to live. Final half-response before I formulate proper thoughts for later (sorry): one of my main BNHA ending thoughts involves how I sort of expected it to be pointing out and handling privilege and the “way things are” in order to suggest ways to actually upend that imbalance in privilege. Analysis I do of the ending often revolves around…. this seems like a story about privilege happening in the way that privilege happens, so WHAT was it for? And it has a lot of shortcomings in that regard I think. It’s just important to me to let you know rn that this post doesn’t contain my full reaction to the ending, which is a lot of sadness, confusion, and disappointment. Okay now I’ve gotten that out of my system. Apologies, real response incoming, I was just struggling to sit on that

Ops, sorry, I misunderstood you on the whole Iida family needed saving.

Now... maybe I'm totally off track but I like to think there was a time in which Horikoshi considered saving Tomura, Himiko and Touya.

We've various arcs that offer understanding, we've Shouto who understands that Rei burned his face merely because his father made her life impossible and don't blame and wants to save her, we've the Stain arc in which while it's made clear iida wanted to do the wrong thing, he's given plenty of sympathy for hos his rage twisted his thoughts, we've how Shouto and Bakugou during the remedial courses were told to connect their hearts with the kids, we had Gentle Criminal, we've Nagant, we've the story implying killing Twice was a mistake, we had Uraraka claiming she wanted to save people because she couldn't save Nighteye and so on.

Maybe Horikoshi wasn't sure if he wanted to kill them and left open both options.

On the other side... saving all the aforementioned people is narratively 'easy'. Rei was punished by spending 10 years in a hospital for a scar she caused in a moment of misplaced panic, Iida had bad intentions but ultimately he saved Native and didn't kill Stain, Gentle Criminal never did something too serious, Nagant was jailed and helped defeating AFO and Tomura, placing her life on the line.

The story is basically saving people who did light crimes or was already punished. It's hard there would be controversy in this, while there would be controversy if the story were to save people who had murdered multiple people, there could be controversy, especially since they don't show regret nor have time for redemption.

So many tales prefer to end things tragically by killing them off.

It's not really something new, "Saint Seiya" (1985-1990) wasn't shy to murder many antagonists who did less and were even regretful for it.

Said this doesn't mean that I agree with the choice of murdering them, I think Horikoshi with them went on the 'easy' route' which killing them off offers. Which okay, it's a possibility but I was hoping for more.

Honestly I though Midoriya and the others would become the greatest Hero because he would manage to save them. I'll summarize because it's not so simple but, fundamentally, he instead became the greatest Hero because he killed the greatest big bad (AFO) which doesn't make him any different fromt he Heroes that preceded him, like Son Goku from "Dragon Ball" (1984-95) or Kenshirō from "Hokuto no Ken" (1983-88), which would have probably be fine if the story didn't seem to imply he would do more than what they did.

And yes, he inspired people which indirectly made society better but... maybe it's just me but I wasn't impressed. I get Horikoshi tried hard to deliver this, I just wasn't won over.

I probably won't manage to reply to you for a while as tomorrow I'll get hospitalized, so my apologies for my future silence.

When I'll come back home I'll get back at you!

One problem with the society of BNHA is that being “someone in need of saving” is an undesirable category to be in.

“People who need saving” is a category of people. It’s hypothetically a valued one, since heroes save those people.

However: there’s no glory in needing to be saved.

There’s glory in SAVING, but we value the people who do the SAVING, not who need to be saved.

One thing that REALLY felt off to me in the final chapter was how that granny talks to Joki Joki Boy. She talks about herself, about who she can be. If I was in his shoes I would itch under this. Under someone explaining how they can be so charitable to people like me.

I was trying to think about what Izuku could possibly have “showed the world.” I still don’t quite have my answer.

But weirdly I do know what wasn’t shown to the world when the cameras on Ochako and Himiko cut off.

They didn’t see a villain being a hero. They didn’t see a hero needing saving.

The lines between the three societal categories - hero, villain, and people who need saving/protecting - blurred. And the camera missed it.

[dismas-n-dismay]

Marcille could survive Chimera Falin, Falin could not survive Scylla Marcille- let’s get that straight. The difference is that Marcille doesn’t get honed in to her monsterfucker tendencies until she sees Chimera Falin whereas Falin would have imagined Scylla Marcille hundreds of times and would have snapped upon seeing it in real life and went to go kiss her gf while telling everyone not to worry about Marcille killing like 5 people because she’s the wife

And you KNOW Scylla Marcille would be whipped for Falin, don’t play with me Ryoko Kui told me herself

[clownjacket]

If Kipperlilly DOES end up betraying Porter/Jace as part of a secret other scheme she has (whether good or evil) and it has to do with saving Lucy, I just know she’s going to be a bitch about it and pull a ‘sorry, I only save High Five Heroes’ before leaving her other friends to die or some shit. And then she will take her final form: Magic Betty from Adventure Time, betraying her allies and saving her frost gf at the expense of the world. It would also parallel what Ankarna is going through (‘your girlfriend’s out of town, it sucks’, becoming a little imperialist rage machine under the influence of Porter/Sunstone but not being able to fully turn on Lucy despite going against her values and turning into a violent weirdo). This is my wish. My dream. I am manifesting it. Magic Betty Kipperlilly I believe in you.

[random0lover]

I hate men and their need to act like any emotional reactions you have while you’re on your period is just you being “hormonal” and “not yourself”

(Rant in tags)

[autism-disco]

^guy who takes literally any opportunity to procrastinate by organising,, and yet refuses/cannot organise his floor,,, what a sicko