#Which means I also know when employees are being fucked over

[tennessoui]

i'm caught between prompts 27 and 58 for the body politic au boys!!

[from this prompt game that i'm shamelessly a few months late to and that i am once again using as writing warm ups]

im so brave for even attempting to think about politics rn tbh but who doesn't love a good dose of escapism!! at least the body politic au is light and fluffy and nothing really hurts even though neither of them is being the best versions of themselves

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

oh anakin is definitely the lightweight. poor kid is 19. can he legally drink in coruscant? yeah but obi-wan's gonna comment on it every time he catches him with a flute of champagne during a fundraising event which just gets anakin riled up and drinking more to prove that he's old enough to hold his liquor which he's not which definitely ends with him sleeping on obi-wan's shoulder during a cab-ride back to his house. sure obi-wan could tip him towards the window instead but he's not a monster.

58. Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?

oh, for sure both of them. they're both that petty and they would bring the argument into the workplace, into the bedroom, into the shower post-sex in the bedroom, into the future PTA meetings. it's just who these guys are. they'll talk out and resolve the argument eventually but until they do that, they're gonna make it everyone's problem.

and for the snippet, a continuation of 27

"I won," Anakin insists, slurring his words as he droops against Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan tilts his head down to look at him in assessment before he deftly takes the wine glass from his campaign manager's lax fingers.

"I think you'll find that I won, actually," he says as he places the mostly empty glass on a waiter's passing tray. "You didn't even run."

Anakin's head turns further into him, which Obi-Wan isn't quite sure how to feel about, as it means that he presses closer, gives him more of his weight to shoulder. It also means that Anakin's lips are pushing up against the top of Obi-Wan's oxford shirt, and his treacherous, stupid body believes he can feel the plush give of them.

Fuck.

He takes a fortifying sip of his own champagne flute. Just a few more hours, he reminds himself in a mental tone verging on desperate. No one needs a campaign manager after the campaign. A few more hours and you'll never have to see Anakin fucking Skywalker again.

"No," Anakin says with such defiant petulance that Obi-Wan wonders if he's accidentally said his thought out loud. "No, I won. You wouldn't have won at all I didn't...didn't save you. With my campaign skills. And campussing."

"Canvassing," Obi-Wan corrects automatically, and Anakin's plush and pink lips widen on his shoulder for a brief moment before he bites him. He bites him.

Well. He can almost definitely fire him now.

"Fuck's sake, Anakin," he mutters, twitching away from Anakin's teeth. "We're in public. First you can't hold your liquor and now you're biting."

"'S just you," Anakin says, and his voice is suddenly so clear that Obi-Wan looks down at his barnacled employee only to see him staring up at him with the clear eyes of a drunkard. His curls, grown longer now than when they'd first met a few months ago, fall over his forehead, concealing his proud forehead, the cut of his cheekbone. "'s just you now, Obi-Wan." His eyebrows furrow with a thought he does not offer him. "Was supposed to win for Padmé," he says, as if Obi-Wan is supposed to know who that is. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. It is rather devastating.

Just a few more hours.

"But I won for you," Anakin concludes, sounding bemused which just isn't fair. Obi-Wan has fully cornered the market on bemusement currently.

"Anakin, darling," he says with more gentleness than he usually allows himself to show the boy, "this is my victory party. I won."

Anakin seems to think about this for a moment, turning the statement over in his head. "We won," he decides finally, and Obi-Wan--alright. Obi-Wan will allow him that.

[leconcombrerit]

It's funny how the people I work for all seem to agree management should pay me 15 an hour. Management however is very satisfied with 9,8.

If I had a goddamn car and goddamn ladyballs I would so, so ditch this company and go about my merry way.

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[san8ny]

Honestly, GeekSquad! Ellie

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s really got nothing going on for her other than updating her LinkedIn picture here and there, alternating between her college ID photo and a the default flower.

GeekSquad! Ellie who spends her days sitting in uncomfortable swivel chairs, and having to tiredly explain over and over again to elderly women that the promotional sign outside does NOT mean ‘hand in your old phones and get free smart ones!’

‘No ma’am, we don’t take Nokias.’

‘But the sign said give one, get one free!’

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s eyes squint in confusion when she sees you enter from the slide doors, arms crossed as you curiously look around for any standby employees. She doesn’t really ever see hot girls at her location.

GeekSquad! Ellie who practically knocks over some USB stand in her pursuit of getting to you first, which is uncommon since she’s all the way in the back.

GeekSquad! Ellie who notices your pursed lips and teary eyes as you show her your broken laptop.

GeekSquad! Ellie who takes you over to the little stand-by bar, setting your device down, which, let’s be honest, was a lost cause from the start.

‘W-will you be able to fix it? I have my senior thesis on there!’ You practically choke up, the mere thought of months of hard work going down the drain making you tremble.

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s suppose to give you the generic capitalistic answering of, ‘Well, you can always make a membership with us and get 20% off a future purch—

“I’ll fix it.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s now being held in a warm embrace by you, your tears now soaking her blue polo workshirt. It’s bad enough you’re pretty, but a pretty crier?

“Thank you so much! God, you don’t even know how much trouble you’ve saved me!” You stumble over words, disoriented as you begin to let go of the lanky girl.

GeekSquad! Ellie who waves a hand in dismissal, scoffing as she leans on the counter, “That thing? Pfft, i’ve done harder things.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s lied, and has likely lied to also get this job—but that’s beyond things!

“I just,” You say breathlessly, looking around, “I went to the other branch? Downtown? They said it was over!” You whisper to her, all doe eyed, “you really are amazing.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who blankly stares down at you, she’s always had a thing for frazzled girls such as yourself; the ones who just say the very shit Ellie only watches in cheesy movies.

‘Right..guess you’re in-luck you came here?” She probes, typing your name and number into the system to get you all checked in for an appointment.

‘So lucky.’

GeekSquad! Ellie who after her shift, goes home and makes a bee-line for her room, slamming it shut and shedding her clothes, needing to fuck herself to you while the interaction is still fresh, and the night is still young.

‘S-she said she’s—mm, lucky! f-for me..’ She whimpers, pumping 2 fingers in her drenched pussy, and her other hand busying her perky tits. Her eyes are furrowed, and her teeth threaten to break the skin of her lips from the way she’s biting them; Her messy cunt squelches from the speed she’s going at, cum trailing down her thighs in a sluggish matter.

GeekSquad! Ellie who switches on over to her tummy, raising her ass up as she relentlessly slaps at her swollen pearl through her plethora of orgasms— she thinks you’d do it like this, giving yourself something to cry about. It makes sense to her. She wants to practice on herself to perfect it for you.

GeekSquad! Ellie who, once tired out, realizes how fucked up this just is. I mean, she’s so..perverse. So nasty.. so..so..

so GeekSquad! Ellie

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

~

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

~

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

~

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  

“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."

"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | March 18th-24th 2024

It's a long one today folks! I hope you enjoy! :) If you know anyone who's not tagged, don't hesitate to let me know!

idk 'bout you but I can't wait for the final part of the premiere on Thursday!!! 😃

Complete

anything that is beautiful, people want to break. by dylaesthetics (Post-Coma, Trans Buck | 3K | Teen): Buck has never meant to keep it a secret from the one-eighteen. Hell, he trusts them with much more gritty, uncomfortable stuff than that. It’s more like… It hasn’t come up. There’s been no reason for it to come up. But then he gets struck by lightning and the mix-up with his medical records happens. A nurse he hasn’t seen yet barges into Buck’s hospital room, with his entire family in it, blood and found alike, and stares at him for one dumbfounded moment before blurting out a name he hasn’t been addressed by in well over eight years. 

not flesh and blood but the heart by Jinko / @jinkohhh (Post-S6, Getting Together | 10K | Explicit): Five times people assumed Chris was Buck's son + one time Eddie confirmed it.

🔥 don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (S7 Spec, Bachelor Party, Pretend Relationship | 14K | Teen): or, chris wants dating advice and it turns out taking your best friend on a pretend date to practice being as romantic as possible is not a good idea in theory or in practice, considering the pesky being-in-unrequited-love of it all

A Little Bit of the Bubbly by Jinko/ @jinkohhh (Post-S6, PWP, Getting Together | 7K | Explicit): Since turning 30, Buck's relationship with champagne has changed. It also manages to change his relationship with Eddie.

washed away (but not) by Jinko / @jinkohhh (S7 Spec | 3K | Teen): “Well, this is awkward.” Every part of Buck wanted to tell Chim to go fuck himself, but he couldn’t, so he didn’t. Nothing made a situation more awkward than pointing out the awkwardness of it. “So which one of you two made the deathbed love confession?” Ravi laughed, and frankly, Ravi could go fuck himself, too. The both of them could go fuck themselves because both Chimney and Ravi were correct.

i like the way you scratch my itch by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (BTHB: Hives | 3K | Teen): Buck’s big blue eyes sparkle. “You’re so cute, did you know that?” he asks, leaning close enough Eddie can count the small red-brown-orange freckles all across his nose. “Even when you’re red from poison ivy.” Red. Red from the poison ivy. Yeah, yep, that’s exactly what he’s so red for. Absolutely.

meet you in the middle. by dylaesthetics (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): OR buck and eddie get their shit together during a regular friday movie night at the diaz house.

🔥 Even in Winter There is Eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Hades/Persephone AU | 45K | Explicit): Buck is supposedly a god. Supposedly. But he's got no idea what his domain is or what role he plays in Olympus. When he meets Christopher, a young boy lost and trying to find his father, he helps Chris get home - and ends up accidentally binding himself to the Underworld. Now bound to Eddie, the god of the dead, Buck must spend half the year with him in the Underworld while winter reigns above. But even as something grows between them, there are still trials to endure. Just because the gods are not mortal... does not mean they cannot die.

🔥 My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Mythological AU, BDSM | 80K | Explicit): When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies.

and check out the amazing podfic!! 🔥 My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314

hold tight, you’re slowly coming back to life by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (S7E01 Coda, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Eddie runs into Natalia at the grocery store. He learns something about her and Buck’s breakup that gives him the final push to take care of his own complicated love life.

🔥 miracles under your sighs and moans by napricot (Sex Pollen, PWP | 21K | Explicit): When Eddie gets exposed to an experimental aphrodisiac on a call, he realizes there’s only one person he trusts to help him get through it: Buck.

Touch Me and I'll Scream by rogerzsteven/ @rogerzsteven (BTHB: Unhealthy Coping Mecanisms, Established Buddie | 5K | Mature): At his low, Buck uses rough sex as a way of self harm.

in another life by bellabrady (Coma AU | 2K | Not Rated): Or: Buck's in a coma and dreams of a life where Daniel never died and he never became a firefighter.

Locations by rogerzsteven/ @rogerzsteven (BTHB: Vomiting, Drowning | 4K | General): In which Buck drowns.

I was born to take care of you by Beulaugh/ @if-music-be-the-food-of-love (Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Buck has a revelation at work and then promptly falls on his face. Eddie Diaz's ass: 1, Evan Buckley: 0

hold the silence. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6 | 3K | Teen): OR while looking for clothes to donate, Buck stumbles upon the shirt he was wearing when Eddie got shot.

Tomorrow we can drive around this town by lamardeuse/ @lamardeuse (S7 Spec, Drunk Eddie | 4K | Mature): If Eddie had been sober, he would have realized it wasn't something to be happy about. But drunk as he was, it had the blood singing in his veins, because Buck was going home with him, not Tommy. Tommy could go fuck himself – or you know, anyone else who was willing, but not Evan Buckley. Because Eddie was a pathetic, sloppy drunk and his best friend had a responsibility to make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit or drown himself in the bathroom sink.

sang to the sea for feelings deep blue by Tizniz/ @tizniz (S7 Spec, Cruise Ship Emergency | 14K | General): God, he hopes Buck got out. That he isn’t trying to get to Eddie. That he gets to go home. And not just because Christopher needs him, although he does since Eddie is fairly certain he’s not making it home this time. He doesn’t let himself dwell too long on that thought. No, Eddie wants Buck to go home because he deserves it. Because Buck deserves to live. Because Eddie needs him to live.

you've got game by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (S7E01 Coda, Established Buddie | 1K | General): a silly little late night conversation about chris being a 'ladies man'

take this life and make it yours (take this heart and let it love again) by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Canon Divergent, Post-Coma | 31K | Mature): Before he could second guess it, he’d dialled Eddie’s number and listened to it ring in his ear. As soon as he heard the click of the connection, he said, “Eddie, what the hell, man?” “I meant what I said. I don’t know who you think you are, but call this number again and I will contact the police.” . . . or, the one where Buck finally figures out he's in love with Eddie, only for things to not go as planned. At first.

if i bleed, you'll be the last to know by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (S7, Hurt Buck | 6K | Teen): buck gets stabbed while out on a run and then... doesn't tell anyone about it. eddie loses his shit when he finds out, they have a moment in the kitchen and they kiss.... not necessarily in that order.

Baby, take me by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (S7E01 Coda, Getting Together | 4K | Explicit): “Same thing,” Eddie nuzzled him, stubble scratching even more as he moved his face. When he stopped nuzzling, he pulled back far enough that he could see Buck’s face. “I said stop thinking.” “Kinda hard to turn my brain off.” “Pretty sure I turned it off just fine last night,” Eddie said with a smirk that went straight to Buck’s cock, already half hard just from the way Eddie’s stubble is dragging across his skin. “Is that how I get you to stop thinking?”

when you call me yours by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Established Buddie, Proposal | 5K | General): Buck starts calling Eddie his husband. Only problem...they're not engaged. aka the 5 times Buck refers to Eddie as his husband and the 1 time Eddie makes it true.

just lay back in my arms for one more night by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Established Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Buck loves Eddie as he naps.

Brat Burrito by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Established Buddie | 1K | General): Just a cute Buddie moment about breakfast burritos.

it's a sliding into home kind of day by devirnis/ @devirnis (PWP | 3K | Explicit): Eddie’s eyes still don’t leave the television. Frowning to himself, Buck cranes his neck to get a look at what could possibly be more important than him coming home after covering a tragically Eddie-less shift. A baseball game evidently is the answer.

your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep by BekkaChaos/ @bekkachaos (New Years Eve, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): aka, Eddie's in love with Buck and he doesn't know how to tell him, until there's a miscommunication and fate (well, Hen) intervenes.

Loose Threads by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Secret Relationship | 3K | Explicit): New to dating and keeping it quiet, Buck and Eddie get a little carried away on a slower shift at the firehouse. But when the alarm eventually sounds, a spur of the moment mistake leaves them a little mixed up.

Married Life by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew)/ @911onabc (S5, Getting Together | 2K | General): Taylor films Buck for a TikTok challenge, and Buck finds out he would much rather be his best friend’s husband than his girlfriend’s.

A Seal By Any Other Name (Would Still Be My Best Friend) by bigfootsmom (Seal!Buck, Post-Tsunami | 5K | General): Evan "Buck" Buckley is a collection of oddities. But they're just what makes Buck Buck and Eddie loves him for them. Eddie had thought that after their years of friendship (and maybe something more) that nothing Buck could do would surprise him anymore. But there is one oddity that Eddie never saw coming. “How about you start with why there was a seal in my bathtub and now there’s just you in my bathtub.” (Part 1 of Seal!Buck as in the aquatic mammal)

Just Add Water by bigfootsmom (Seal!Buck, Tsunami | 3K | General): There may be more to Buck than meets the eye. But he's still only human(ish) and getting stuck in a natural disaster with his best friend's son is still all sorts of terrifying. A small hysterical part of his brain thinks about how ironic it would be if this was how he died. Him, a mythical aquatic creature, drowning. The universe would surely laugh and the long line of Buckley ancestors would turn in their graves. (Part 2 of Seal!Buck as in the aquatic mammal)

you can be my daddy (come on, you know you like) by bigfootsmom (Getting Together, Daddy Kink | 4K | Mature): Buck has a teeny tiny problem. One, he's in love with his best friend. Two, he wants to call said best friend Daddy.

It's the softness that breaks you by bigfootsmom (BDSM, Hurt/Comfort | 6K | Explicit): Or the one where Buck has more issues with intimacy than he had originally thought.

lay your love on me by bigfootsmom (PWP, Getting Together | 3K Explicit): Buck never thought the words he said to Eddie in the kitchen would ever come back to haunt him like this. Honestly, he’s not complaining.

you made me feel (i've got nothing to hide) by bigfootsmom (Virgin!Buck, Established Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Buck has a secret: Contrary to popular belief, Evan "Buck" Buckley is actually a virgin.

WIP

🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 22/? | 162K | Explicit | ❗️Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 6/18 | 37K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 122/? | 374K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

[no-144444]

injury causer- l.sargeant

Day 11 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: logan can't look where he's going, too bad he runs straight into you.

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You were the lead mechanic on the Andretti Indycar team. You dealt with Kyle Kirkwood and his massive ego all day, everyday. You could’ve sworn everyone hated him by the way he was looked at by other paddock employees. He was nice when the cameras were out but other than that? Asshole. 

You knelt down, trying to get a good look at the car when someone somehow didn’t see you, walked straight into you, kicking you directly in the stomach. 

“Fuck! Sorry!” he immediately rushed out, leaning down to help you out. 

“Watch where you’re going please?” you scoffed, standing up. Kyle laughed as he started sputtering through an apology. You knew who he was, he was Logan Sargeant, a fucking F1 driver. You didn’t care. You weren’t dealing with another asshole’s huge ego today, not that you thought Logan would have one, you knew what he was like, but then again, F1 can change people. You looked at Kyle, who subtly whispered to him to stop apologising. “Drivers aren’t the only people who make the sport happen, dickhead.”

He looked taken aback. “Come one Y/n, it was-”

 “I’m super sorry, I just… I didn’t realise where I was stepping. Sorry again,” Logan interjected. 

“Y/n, stop being a bitch alright?” Kyle scoffed, and you genuinely could’ve killed him. 

“Dude, that’s a dick move,” Logan turned to his friend with a look of disgust. “Apologise.”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to look shocked. “What do you mean?” he scoffed. 

“I mean apologise, you’re being an asshole,” Logan replied calmly. 

Kyle scoffed, which turned into a laugh. 

“I’ll cut your breaks,” you threatened, shutting him up. “And thank you Logan, but that’s alright. I don’t think the word ‘sorry’ is in his vocabulary.” 

Logan turned to Kyle again. “Dude, you’re being a dick. Apologise.”

“Sorry,” he scoffed, and walked off.

“I’m so sorry about him,” Logan sighed. “He can be-”

“An asshole all the time? Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “I'm sorry that you’re his friend.”

He chuckled. “He’s not that bad.”

“Trust me, he is.”

He smiled at you. Internally, he was losing it over the fact that you were standing in front of him, talking to him. He had basically been in love with you since you were both 15. You’d been Adrian Newey’s prodigy as you came up through the motorsports world, and after a bad crash you didn’t get back in the car. That meant you turned to understanding the car, how it worked, how to design one, how to make it safer, make it faster. You knew everything about Indycar, Formula 1, Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 4 cars. You had even designed some of the best karts in the world. You designed the Mclaren car this year, you’d conceptualised the rear-wing, you’d made it all happen for them, and now you were at Andretti, ready to make them winners. On top of that, you were designing for 6 of the 10 F1 teams, 1 of the 11 F2 teams, and 2 of the 10 F3 teams. Your resume was more than packed, but Logan liked you. You had always been kind to him. Coming up through the European side of motorsport, making friends wasn’t always easy. Yes, he had Oscar, but Oscar also had Zhou, Fred, Paul, and anyone else. Oscar was busy most of the time, so Logan would just hang around the paddock. That’s when he met you. You’d invite him to RedBull team stuff and you ended up spending a lot of time together. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” he smiled. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you smiled back. “How’s Prema treating you?”

“Good. Better than Williams,” he shrugged. 

“I wanted to reach out after it happened but I think you changed your number,” you admitted. “You deserved so much more than that team. Everyone knows what a talented driver you are.”

He shrugged, his face heating up. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

“Well, it was nice to see you, I’d better get back to it-”

“Here’s my number,” he said, handing you a slip of paper. “I’d like you call me sometimes- I-I’d like to call sometimes- I like you, call me- I-”

“I like you too, and yes, I will call you ,” you chuckled, endeared by his embarrassing moment. 

He shook his head, drowning in embarrassment. He smiled and waved as you walked back to your desk, happy that, at the very least, he had your number.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[54625]

What I want out of a QSMP season two.

(Some of these points may be a little divisive - it's just my personal opinion. Content creators will be referred to as players for conciseness. QSMP as it has been for the past year, for the sake of this post, will be referred to as "season 1".)

1. TAKE A FUCKING BREAK.

I do not want to see the QSMP coming back in less than two months at the very, very least. Five or six months to a year is ideal, in my opinion.

This is for a few reasons. Firstly, the obvious; I want Quackity Studios to take the necessary time to make 100% sure that everyone who has worked, does work, or will work for them is compensated. Not just this, but I want the communication among the studio to become streamlined and consistent, for the purpose of maintaining the quality of the SMP, the quality of life of the employees, and entirely avoiding a repeat of the previous situation. Any less will be unacceptable, and prove that all people in charge, including and especially Quackity himself, have not learned their lesson.

Secondly, I am very sure that a lot of players will lack or have completely lost their motivation for the QSMP, due to the nature of the last few months of season 1. I am sure that those who had a lot of lore written up and had to scrap it or cut it short are probably still quite sore about it, and may not have the energy to pick the QSMP story back up. This is especially true if they had already given their characters a canon ending and don't want to overshadow it. When creating a new SMP, or a new season of an SMP, you first and foremost need player motivation to be high. Waiting several months would ensure that the wound of player lore being ruined would have mostly healed over by the start of season 2.

Thirdly, viewer engagement will always be an important thing to take into consideration when creating an SMP that will be televised. The large majority of QSMP fans are completely burned out from watching. Leaving a large gap between seasons 1 and 2 would let fans, who have had an exhausting last few months, recover and reset. It will also allow hype and anticipation to build up when things eventually start being teased and announced again. Fans have a lot of disdain for this project at the present moment, and waiting for a while between seasons will not only let fans know that serious action is being taken behind the scenes, but also will let the sour attitude a lot of fans have right now wear off over time.

2. RESET. FOR REAL THIS TIME.

Probably my most controversial take on this topic will be; I fully believe that if a QSMP season 2 is to occur, it should be a completely new server. By completely new I naturally mean a new map, but also ZERO LORE CONTINUATION. I know this is a hot take, but I personally believe QSMP season 2 is a perfect chance for a completely fresh start, and a fresh start cannot happen if it still takes place in the same universe.

We all know that season 1's lore was overwhelming, slightly confusing, and at the end of the day, completely disjointed. We all fell in love with the terrifying Federation and Codes, yes, we all loved the basis of the story; a group of people from different countries get stranded on a "perfect" paradise island controlled by a governmental body that won't let them leave, and have to work together; but at the end of the day, the lore of season 1 became messy. Very messy. Instead of trying again and again to salvage it, the best option is probably to just start again.

Put the same players in a different map, give them a completely different premise, and let the lore unfold anew. Which leads into my next point.

3. PLAYER DRIVEN LORE.

Let the players develop the story. If a player has an overarching storyline they are unfolding themselves, prioritise letting them do so. All of the best lore in season 1 was player created, and player enacted; Cellbit's regret arc, the happy pills, Cellbit's murdering Fed workers arc, literally everything Fit ever did, Roier's lore, ect ect ect. Server admins should only intervene in player's lore when directly asked, and big changes to the server's status quo should only occur when there is no active lore to be interrupted, everyone agrees it should happen, and it would actively drive engagement up, rather than down.

The best case scenario for a QSMP season 2, in my opinion, is for the server admins and Quackity to come up with an exciting and engaging premise for a brand new universe with brand new characters, to place the players in an interesting themed map, and just let them loose. Let the lore build naturally, and see what comes of it.

IN CONCLUSION.

I vehemently disagree with people who believe the QSMP should not have a season 2. The QSMP is a brilliant idea, and its noble goals shine through all of the incredible friendships and memories it, and only it, made. There is no other server like QSMP.

The act of uniting people from all over the world has been proven to be an extremely important and worthwhile goal. I, genuinely, admire Quackity for his passion in this, and for understanding that this thing should not be easily given up on or let go. Drastic changes need to occur, but the QSMP is bigger than just a Minecraft server; it represents so much unity, community, and love.

It is worth saving.

I hope, desperately and for the sake of everyone involved, past future and present, that the QSMP can come back better and stronger than ever, continuing to further its goals; to tell amazing stories, to forge impossible friendships, to spark joy and laughter, and to bring people together no matter the barriers keeping them apart.

Thank you for reading.

[splataii]

so uh @b1ueprinc3 made a post and i was inspired to make this drabble.

pervert manager dabi x male reader

cw: sub/bottom male reader, top/dom character, dacryphilia, degradation, minor exhibitionism, groping

anyway dabi first meets you an just thinks ur so fucking cute. he just loves your enegry and attitude, and becomes a lil too eager to train you, always being a lil touchy. hes down horrendous, always grabbing ur ass to congratulate you for a job well done at the end of the day or whatever.

insists he a “hands on learning” typa guy. always grabbing you by the waist so he can grind his obvious boner against your ass as he scoots behind you. always grabs u by the back of the neck, rubbing a thumb up its side as he leans over your shoulder to look at whatever work has you occupied. grabs you by the beltloop when youre passing him so he can spin you around and tell you about this “important work related thing” while he keeps his fingers pressed into your hips.

he already thinks you look pretty good in the assigned uniform, but one day, he has the genius idea to spill some water or something over you so you're forced to change into a top that's a couple sizes too small (which he insists is the only available uniform, yes it's mandatory, no you can't go home and change).

he promises it was an accident, and that he’ll wash it for you (despite the fact you insist you can clean it yourself) but instead spends his time dropping random shit on the ground so he can see your pants strain against ur ass and the way your shirt rides up your back.

the liar also takes your old shirt to the backroom to fist his cock with, pretending it's ur fucked out face he's cumming on. you ain't never getting that shit back

speaking of jerking off, this bitch does it all the time. specifically does it when youre getting off break and heading to the break rooms, so you can hear the sound of him shamelessly moaning your name as he finishes to another one of his gross fantasies of you laying spread out for him in his bed. he exits the stall and smiles when he sees your face like its no big. always makes sure to give ur ass a nice slap and some half assed “work hard” crap before he leaves you totally embarrassed.

nyway he also a bit overprotective, never stepping more than a couple feet away from you while you're working with a customer, and even other coworkers. he knows people know how cute you are. why would he leave his sweet boy to deal with those random mofos? he just stands behind you glaring when he feels someone is getting too close. you get a little confused, when they eventually leave, terrified, but he's always there to comfort you. your ass is his, you don't need no one else baby<3

he can have a bit of a mean streak sometimes tho, stretching you thin. whenever you (expectedly) fail to meet his impossible deadlines, he’s teasing you. talking about what a dumb little boy you are. he could probably fire you, if he wanted to. but he wont. if you could do this one little thing for him.. he pulls you into an old storage closet, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants so he can slap it on your face and spread his pre all over your cheek and nose. he can't help it, you just look a lot cuter this way. besides, he knows you can take it. dumb little boys like you are only made for one thing. since you're such a bad employee, show him what a damn good whore you are.

dabi claims he's only mean cause he cares. boys like you need to be taught a lesson so no one can take advantage of you. but sometimes, he plays like he's gonna make you answer calls while hes spearing you on his dick, just so he can see your pretty tears as you shake ur head no.

once again, he can have complete one eighty's, giving you all these bonuses and gifts at work saying “you deserve it” and all that shit, but everybody at work knows the reason you get all this special treatment is cause he slutting you out behind closed doors.

at the end of the day, you’re really just dabi’s personal whore. and everyone knows it.

[tyunn1ngz]

Yeonjun being your ceo hubby and you both got in a argument but had to go to a party so he spent the whole night talking with other people and you got bored so you went to go dance with a guy and Yeonjun pulled you back saying

"I know we aren't in good terms at the moment but if you think I'm gonna let you be touched by another man that isn't me the you are fucking crazy"

And either you tell him to fuck off and it turns into angry sex when you both get back or he drags you out the party and he drives to a empty car park and you both fuck in the backseat 😁

UR INSANNEEEEEEEEEEEE. cw hes kinda mean and hypocritical ? idk also i got so carried away w this dont ask me why its 1k words i literally dk what happened,,,,

no bc i imagine it would be something sooooo petty, something that clearly needed to just be chatted about but the time just slips and suddenly your attitude is just through the roof while you have to converse at this stupid party with a bunch of snobs who you decide in the heat of your anger he’s just like (you know he’s not)

and every word yeonjun speaks just serves to piss you off more >:( that dumb smile on his face like he didn’t upset you and then cater to everyone else with such ease. pretending like everything’s okay, like how dare he ! 🙄

the final straw being that maybe he laughs a little too loud at one of his employees jokes, leaned a little too close in to hear them, allowed touches that linger too long to be friendly intentions; all while he’s almost completely ignored you all evening, when you were only here for him anyway— all dolled up just for him to argue with you and then ignore you.

so you take your interest elsewhere, allowing whatever guest next hits you with a ‘no pretty little thing like you should be pouting like that’ to be your entertainment.

it doesn’t work as intended at first, your eyes consistently darting back and forth between this stranger and yeonjun, who seemingly doesn’t pay you any mind. you deflate a little, chugging back the rest of the champagne in your glass.

and then, this stranger, who you have yet to gain the name of, tries to touch you. he starts with a click of his tongue, grinning as he tilts his head a little. ‘come on, darling. don’t look so sad. i’ll keep you company… get you another drink?’ and his hands begin a slide for your waist.

alas! he’s abruptly stopped by a grasp on his wrist, tight and practically a chokehold around the limb. you know those fingers anywhere.

‘they’re fine. thanks.’ yeonjun says, composed and completely nonchalant on the surface of his tone. but you can see his grip must hurt, can hear the dip of frustration in his voice.

and then you’re being lead by his hands, gentle loving touch ever not present, until the breeze of night air bites at your skin. you frown, and pull yourself free from his clutch, standing before him looking just as frustrated as he seems to feel.

‘the hell are you doing?’ to which he scoffs a laugh, cold as the temperature that wisps at your face in bursts of wind.

‘the fuck are you doing?’

your brows furrow, anger settling under your skin again, your whole body tense. ‘what the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’

‘were you just going to let him lay his hands on you? you seemed real comfortable.’ he’ll tell you, tongue in cheek. it’s unbelievable, completely ironic that you feel maniacal.

‘you can’t be fucking serious,’ you smile despite yourself, ‘you cannot be fucking serious, yeonjun.’

silence falls over you two for a moment, every ticking second he just looks more and more pissed. you stand there practically urging him on, disbelief written across your features in such clear displays. yet, he’s still quiet, and somehow it scares you just a little. but fuck, he’s such a hypocrite! you’re the bad guy when he had hands on himself all night with no protest? you are the one in trouble like he didn’t ignore you all alone at his work party?

‘let’s go.’

you’re broken from your reverie of rageful stomping thoughts, the build up of all the mean things you want to scream at him quickly fading. now a little thrown off by the calmness of his voice, tone void of any actual emotion, your mouth drops open a little despite nothing to say.

‘huh?’

‘i said, we’re going.’

dumbfounded, you find yourself tugged along again, towards the car park where you think an awkward, tense ride home will await you. where you expect a pillow and spare blanket thrown haphazardly over the couch by the end of the night.

the last thing on your mental list to expect is being pushed up against the passenger side door, caged in with a finger under your chin, a hand on your hips. your eyes are frantic in search of explanation as you look up at your husband in shock.

his thumb moves to your lips, pressing into the soft flesh where you've already parted in a quiet gasp. yeonjun grins a little, eyes dark and full of mirth.

‘you've had an attitude all day, baby,' he'll say, 'you know well there's nobody else for me than you, hm? no matter how bratty you get with me.'

you gently bite as his finger in retort, 'still doesn't explain your sudden work wife, does it?'

his grin widens, a tad scary in terms of trying to provoke a more negative response. 'just like you throwing yourself at my coworker, yeah? bit desperate for attention, don't you think?'

you bristle, 'he was keeping me company while you whored yourself out, but okay.'

he doesn't falter like you want him to, but his hands tighten on you. he tilts his head.

'yeah? why don't you go back inside to him then? think he could fuck you right, sweetheart?'

oh.

you twitch a little, breath exhaled less confident than before, and he's quick to notice it with such a smug smile. you want to wipe it right off his face, but you fear everything you've built yourself up with tonight is quickly crumbling down.

'maybe he could.' but he can hear how unsure you sound, and he laughs. he's condescending you now. yeonjun hums, leaning closer.

'you don't sound so confident. what makes you think he could handle your attitude, anyway?'

you lack the words, the bite, falling so quiet as he stares at you intently. eyes trained on every tiny change your body language gives him. your eyes stare back, already glassy while your lips start to pout. but you snark once more.

'fuck you.'

it's a haze. because before you can even begin to think of saying anything further, he's got you in his backseat. you're bent over, his chest to your back, your attire completely dishevelled and underwear ripped down your legs, as he fucks into you so hard you know you'll feel it for days to come.

he pants hotly right into your ear, ‘you can be mad at me all you want, baby, but nobody touches you except me, you understand that?’

you can only mewl in response, already too fucked out as the pleasure turns your brain into mush. however, he’s not satisfied with that, and with a grunt he reels his hand back to lay a loud slap on the fat of your ass.

‘i asked you a question, i expect a fucking answer. or are you already too fucking stupid on my cock to talk?’

you sob, nodding your head frantically while you try to hold yourself up on trembling limbs. ‘yes, yes. i understand’

his thrusts manage to grow rougher, and you fall forward until your face presses into the leather of the seats.

‘so cute when you cry. you ready to apologise to me? hm? tell me you’re sorry for being such a brat to me.’

‘m’sorry!’ you cry, another spank this time landing on your thigh, ‘m’sorry, ‘jun. won’t happen again.’

he laughs as he throws his head back, hands on your hips to fuck you on his cock. he’s breathless but it’s so so hot.

‘liar. i’ve spoilt you too much. all you know now is how to get what you want. and this is what you wanted? for me to fuck some sense into you?’

you know it’s technically not true, he knows that too, but you start nodding frantically regardless. the haze of your pleasure renders you to his complete mercy.

‘yes! i’m sorry. just need you. always need you.’

‘you have me, angel.’ he grunts on a particularly harsh jolt of his hips, cock hitting a deeper angle as you cry out so loud you almost miss his words.

‘y’always have me. let me prove it to you? want me to knock you up? m’gonna make you a mommy.’

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ MINE TO SHARE: SHANKS (+???)

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "You were Shanks's the moment he laid his eyes on you. But sometimes he needs to remind you that you being his means he can do whatever he wants with you."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : AMAB! READER, CIS MALE! READER, MALE READER! SMUT! MLM, HOMO SEX (I laugh at this) GAY SEX (laugh again), DUB-CON, NON-CONSENSUAL EXHIBITIONISM (Shanks shows the reader sexy photos without him knowing, the reader is watched during sex without being asked) in this story the reader LIKES all the things that are did with him, even the exhibitionism, if you have any trauma or trigger with that don't read. ASSHOLE BOSS (NOT SHANKS) just a mention of a former idiotic boss, hidden romantic relationships, unlabeled relationship, relationship between boss and employee

꒰ CONTAINS ꒱ : Shanks is mean and soft at the same time but probably more mean, Benn and all of Shanks' friends know you two are fucking, you might want to fuck his friends too, office sex, risk of getting caught, getting caught, makeshift handcuffs and a lot of dirty talk.

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,3k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : lol o only notice how much warnings I always put, I just want to put everything that can make someone uncomfortable because I hate read a fic when they don't put warning in something and that's get me triggered. Okay so, PLEASE IF YOU ARE A WOMEN DON'T REALLY READ THIS, IT'S NOT ONLY INTERACT DON'T READ, IF I SEE ANY FEM BLOG IN THIS STORY I GONNA BLOCK YOU AND IM SERIOUS

You didn't remember exactly how you got there. Sitting on your boss's lap with his dick so deep in your ass you could feel it reaching your throat. Shanks' hands grabbed your ass hard, squeezing and slapping so hard that made you jump in fright. He used all his strength and the advantage of his size to guide you bouncing on his huge cock, your legs were already wobbly and shaking so all you could do was accept him using you like a toy and fucking you nonstop.

Every time Shanks fucked you he had a different rhythm, which was always decided by his mood that day. Today you weren't sure what the redhead's mood was, but he fucked you with deep and strong thrusts that made you roll your eyes and tremble with each blow, he hit your prostate so accurately and filled your insides so perfectly that you genuinely wondered how you was able to cumming with other partners before Shanks. It seemed impossible for someone to be able to give you pleasure like him.

Of course you were also a mess, thanks to that, you had your head thrown back moaning his name or resting on his shoulder or forehead, moaning breathlessly and begging softly for more. Your hands were dug into his shoulder, scratching so hard that even without big nails you knew there would be marks left for a few days, your head was already hurting and there was a little drool running down the corner of your lips... You looked pathetic, but in the end you liked being humiliated and Shanks liked humiliating you, it was the perfect combination.

You had only entered Shanks' office to give him some reports for the week, he was in his chair with his back to the door facing the huge glass wall that gave him a view of the entire city, advantages of being extremely rich and being able to work on the highest floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city. He was strangely silent and all he asked of you was to come over and deliver the reports... Of course, most of his visits to Shanks' office didn't just end with a conversation between boss and employee.

The truth is that your relationship with the redhead has always been… complicated. It all started when you saw him in person for the first time at a meeting between several city executives disguised as a gala party, at that time you were just an apprentice following your boss and his main secretary like a scared puppy. Your boss was terrible and liked to torture all his employees with the excuse of being an iron training that only the best went through, but he hid this from the spotlight and loved to brag as a boss that no job would leave, taking pride in his loyalty of each of its employees.

Shanks, as always, was a brat at these parties, his social reputation was one of the worst but everyone pretended not to know given how incredible his business empire was, even though he was known for scandals and even visits to countless police stations, the redhead was treated like an angel by everyone the other businessmen who pretended not to know anything about his antics. For some reason you caught his attention, throughout the party where you basically served as a personal waiter for your boss, you felt Shanks staring at you with a predatory gaze ready to grab his prey and run away.

You were still very insecure at that time, you had just left college and your career wasn't going exactly as you planned, maybe that's why you avoided his gaze so much at the beginning. When your boss and Shanks finally spoke, the redhead made no attempt to hide that he was paying attention solely to you and not the ugly old man who was desperate for a business deal. This obviously infuriated his boss who spilled wine on his clothes claiming to have been an oversight. When you kindly excused yourself to go to the bathroom to resolve the situation your boss's secretary simply whispered that you didn't need to go back to the party, when you looked at him confused he just rolled his eyes and said gruffly “you're out”.

This made you swallow deeply and run to the bathroom, you already had a terrible job even if it was in a renowned place and now you had been fired for attracting the attention of a billionaire who you never even dreamed of being in the same room with?! All you could do was rub your wine-stained shirt as you cried and cursed to the tenth generation of your stupid boss and anyone who worked for him. While you were lost in your own world you were unable to notice Shanks entering the bathroom and looking at you with concern.

That night many things happened, you were fired, humiliated, you received a job offer from Shanks who had one of the most successful industries in the country and you also received a small hope that your professional future could work out. The months went by and at some point you and Shanks were already in this arrangement, you weren't even close to being boyfriends, even though he had never had another partner and even though he had never forbidden you from having one, he hated seeing you with anyone else other than him. Your friends joked that Shanks was your sugar daddy since he always gave you money and gifts, but since he never asked for anything in return, not even sex, it didn't seem like the label for you either.

You were something, besides of course friends, but you weren't very determined to find out. You were afraid of falling in love only to find out that Shanks only saw you as a fuck buddy or worse, finding out that Shanks was in love and you only saw him as a fuck buddy! You had sleepless nights thinking about it but little by little you simply gave up making everything difficult. You loved fucking Shanks and Shanks loved fucking you, there was no reason to try to put feelings in or out of this arrangement, as long as it worked for both of you then it was perfect.

Shanks continued fucking you while you faced the office door with your head resting on his shoulder, you lowered your claws to his arm and continued holding him as if you were going to die without his support. He whispered praises and curses every time you leaned into his lap and made his cock all the way inside you, your own cock was twitching on your stomach, your pants were thrown somewhere and your white shirt was open so at least you wouldn't get your clothes dirty. You needed to come so badly, but Shanks' slow pace didn't give you enough stimulation, if he just let you masturbate you could have gotten there, but he liked torturing you.

“Shanks! Please! I! Oh! Shit!" You moaned choppy, disjointed words as you tried to increase your speed, but Shanks' strong hands kept you right where he wanted you.

“Huh? I didn't hear you boy, say it again” He said breathlessly and gave a light bite to your exposed neck “Say how you want my dick to make you see stars, say how you want to be my good boy and cum so much you'll get dirty both of us, tell me” the redhead’s dirty talk always made your belly twitch and your dick leak more, you were losing control and he was loving taking advantage of it.

“Oh! Shanks! Please! I need… Fuck! Faster!" You moaned louder as you felt him slowly increasing his speed, you were ready to beg again when you heard some knocks on the door and Shanks' electronic warning ringing, alerting you that there was someone at the door wanting a meeting with him. “S-Shanks! Stop! There is somebody!"

You tried to get off of him and give him a few pats so he would get the hint and at least he would give you the chance to hide in the bathroom instead of getting caught by someone while fucking your boss. But Shanks didn't seem to care, he quickly turned the chair, turning towards the door and leaving you facing the glass wall, and instead of slowing down or even letting you go, he simply gave your ass a hard slap as he started thrusting into you like the world was ending. He was moving in and out so fast that you became unable to speak, only letting out desperate screams and moans at the sudden increase in stimulation.

“Shit… Don’t squeeze me so much boy… Come in! Come in quickly Benn, I'm kinda busy” He shouted the last part and you tried again to fight Shanks, only to receive an annoyed growl from him as he took off his own tie and used it to tie your wrists behind your back in a clumsy and quick way, but still firm enough for you to be unable to escape. “Stop running away you brat! You came here to get fucked in my office and now you don’t want anyone to see you?” He smiled mischievously when he saw your embarrassed face and the tears of humiliation that were about to fall.

"Stop!" You sniffled at him and hid your face in his neck, you heard the door opening and you knew that soon Benn, the vice CEO and someone who had as much power as Shanks, would be able to see you bouncing on the redhead's dick like a real whore.

"To stop? But I feel you clenching around my cock…” he chuckled at you and stroked your back gently “You're acting like you hate this… But I see how you look at my men, you perverted boy, I'm sure you'd love it getting fucked by all of us at the same time, right? After all, all that’s going on in that stupid little head of yours is being filled with cock in all your holes, right?” He laughed teasingly and when you just whimpered without responding he finally seemed to get angry, so he grabbed your penis tightly, squeezing its sensitive head. “I asked a fucking question.”

You just screamed, feeling the ecstasy overwhelm you to the point where your vision went black and you felt your whole body go limp, you had just cum in Shanks' hand just from his dirty words and tight grip on his sensitive and neglected dick. You fell against him crying and panting, your dick trembled as it continued to leak some more cum, Shanks simply laughed and stopped fucking you, letting you calm down slowly.

“Did you see that Benn? He simply came when I accused him of wanting to be fucked by all of us” Shanks laughed at that as if it were a joke and you almost forgot that the other man had entered the room, but now you could smell his cigarette and his malicious laugh.

“S-Shanks…” you begged whimpering as you tried to hide against his body, you had no idea what you were asking for, but it was clear that Shanks always knew you and your body much better than you knew yourself.

“Hmmm… I would even let it go this time, but you hid this beautiful spectacle of you cumming, didn’t you feel sorry for Benn? He came here and missed the entire show…” he said a little more gently as he rubbed his nose against your hair “Now I can’t just let you go and leave my friend empty handed… Besides, you didn’t even make me cum… No, No, you were really a bad boy…”

You no longer had the strength to argue or fight against the redhead, he quickly grabbed you and turned you around to face Benn. Now you were a complete and pathetic exposure, Shanks' cock was still thrusting deep into you, your own cock was a little soft, already extremely tired after having an intense orgasm, your abdomen was dirty with your cum and your entire body was dripping with sweat. You had a tired and cloudy look, a face that was drunk but kept begging for more and more.

Shanks smiled and grabbed your face with his hand, squeezing your cheek as he whispered in your ear “Open that mouth wide and stick your tongue out my boy… Give them a good look” you did as he said as he was squeezing her cheeks and forcing your mouth open. You hadn't understood what he was planning, your head too tired and confused to try and guess the man's plans.

It was only when you heard the click and flash of your cell phone that you realized, Benn was in front of you with his own cell phone and had just taken a picture of you practically naked being fucked on your boss's lap. The damage and scandals that a photo like that could cause made you feel sick, but luckily Benn's mischievous smile and his hard penis over his dress pants indicated that his goal wasn't to destroy your life.

“How was it?” Shanks asked the gray-haired man playfully.

“Perfect, you weren't lying when you said that his face when he cum was perfect… Huh, Hongo is going to love this…” He quickly placed his cell phone on Shanks' desk and approached you.

“Now… My brat” Shanks kissed your cheek and smiled against you making your whole body shiver “Why don’t I show you that you belong to me completely to the point where I can do whatever I want with you?” He offered with a smile, “And by ‘whatever you want’ I obviously mean sharing… After all, you’re a good pet and you’re not going to let Benn go so hard, are you?”

You didn't need to answer for the two older men to start smiling, everyone knew you never refused an order from Shanks.

[fuck-customers]

Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

[darry-queen]

How much Darry and Soda would make modern day and if it would be enough to pay for at least the three of them: (note this may not be incredibly accurate and while yes I did do research while calculating this shit it wasn't super in depth! feel free to correct me on any and all mistakes you notice and feel free to also give your own opinions!! Much love!)

Starting with Darry's:

Before I get into number this is all assuming that Darry works exclusively the hours allotted to him while missing no work, he'd have a 5 day work week at 40 hours which is standard practice in the United States, except for his part time job which he'd be working 25/h a week (i talk about this more later just continue reading) also I'm not giving them any kind of insurance. Sorry! Lol!

Starting salary of a roofer in Oklahoma is $14/h with the average being around $15/h. Assuming this Darry will be getting around 30k a year. I'm going to be generous and say he works for a good company and has a strong union so I'll give him a end of year bonus as well ($200-$800)

His weekly pay would be around $550-$600

This would be taxed though! Using a taxing calculator (bc I'm not doing all that math babeee) He'd be payed around $500 a week.

Darry also canonically has a second job! Though it is never really talked about, not even mentioned whether it's part or full time. I'm just going to assume, generally, that it is probably a part time job that pays minimum wage. (I'm aware that there are many popular hc's as to what this job is I'm ignoring those lol) now I don't live in Oklahoma but I do have personal experience with working part time and it fucking sucks. They have you working only slightly less then a full time employee so they do not have to give you full benefits. It is an incredibly fucked up and exploitative practice.

Something to note is that Oklahoma allows part time employees to be payed half minimum wage the first 90 days of employment when under the age of 20. I do not think I will include this in the calculation because even though Darry would be 19 at the time of his parents death I think he would be 20 not long after and I do not care enough to look into this law to include it in my calculations! Just wanted to mention it because?? What the fuck Oklahoma?

Anyway, part time would have Darry working 25 hours a week for $7.25/h which would be around $180/week. After taxes he'd make $160/week getting him to $660 a week.

Finally, what everyone was waiting for.... doordash fucking driving baby. Considering he lives in a populated area I am going to be generous and say he manages to get around $20/h from doordash driving. Assuming he does this on the days he doesn't work part time (so the other 15 hours) he'd make a whopping 16k extra a year OMG!!

As for any money he'd earn from the state for guardianship of Pony and Soda: Idk! It's kind of confusing trying to figure out Oklahoma giving shit out for this because fostering and guardianship are two dif things and I'm almost certain Darry would have Guardianship over his siblings, not fostering them. So I'm just not including it: he may have received a check upon first becoming their guardian but since that is a one time thing I'm not going to include it in my final calculations (i know this is kinda contradictory for giving Darry a bonus for his roofing work but IDC IDC IDC IDC I AM NOT PUTTING THAT MUCH EFFORT INTO THIS (NOTE I FILLED OUT A MOCK W2 FORM TO GET A ROUGH ESTIMATE OF WHAT DARRY'S TAX RETURN WOULD BE BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I CARE))

All of the above considered: Darry is making $960 a week. Wow!

Now for Sodapop!

Soda I'm just going to copy paste what Darry's theoretical part time job would be because it's almost time for me to go to bed and I couldn't find any special rules for 16< year olds, so he'd be working 25 hours for $7.25 which after taxes is again $160

In total him an Darry combined are making a good healthy $1120 a week on average. Probably more if you consider Darry going insane with doordash/overtime! Overall a good $4480 a month

GREAT NOW TIME FOR EXPENSES!!

Expenses Include:

Mortgage payments

power bill

water bill

natural gas

car payments (maybe)

car insurance (maybe)

fuel

food

phone payments

internet bill

probably more I can't remember off the top of my head

OKAY NOW explaining the maybe's rq

You can just, not pay for car insurance. It's illegal, but when you're poor it's not like you can really care about the legality of certain things. Sometimes, it's eating vs car insurance, y'know? Especially because Darry is only 20, that shit is going to be expensive. And the car was def under his dad's name previously so he also def doesn't have any history. I'mma be generous though and say that he does have CREDIT history, which following my own car insurance premiums: my man is going to be paying like, $400 a month. and trust me, I'm being generous here. This is also for liability only. crazy right? With that considered, if I can not get Darry's salary to work with the rest of his expenses I'm saying he's driving without insurance. Hope you understand.

Now for the car itself, it might be payed off already might not. Again it's almost time for me to go to bed so I"m not willing to double check the book to see if car payments are ever mentioned. If they are I'll come back and fix this another time but for now. I'm not including it.

As for the gas for this theoretical truck? I'm going to put it from $250-$300 a month based off of what Reddit car owners said on how often they have to get gas for their own trucks. Great!

OKAY NOW FOR THE REAL EXPENSES! The average cost of utilities in Oklahoma, Tulsa specifically, is $270 a month for electricity, like $130 a month for natural gas, and for water $100 a month. Now you're probably saying, "Paya, isn't that a little high?" to which I'd say, they have 4 (presumably more) other boys coming around almost everyday. SO I feel it's fine to rate that shit on the higher side of things.

Before I forget: the mortgage payments!

This one is kinda fucked! I have no idea when the Curtis parents bought the house in canon. If it was after, or before Darry was born, etc. Because of this you can kinda just make hc's for this. The reason I say this is because obviously the housing market now is VERY different from the one in the 40s-60s which is when they'd have had to buy the house in cannon. In fact, I'm not even entirely sure they own the house in canon I'm just assuming right now! Like, if you're making a modern au: feel free to say that they're renting! Like who really cares about it? I'll even calculate it here for you so you have a frame of reference: Assuming the house is at least 2 bedrooms 1 bathroom it's gonna be around 1.5k a month. If you want to say they're paying a mortgage though, I'm going to assume based off the little data I could find of average home cost in 2004 (I'm assuming the house was bought around the time of Darry's birth) we're looking at somewhere between 150k-250k. I'm going to low ball it though because I think Oklahoma housing prices are generally cheaper and I'm going to assume they'd go for something affordable over something large. So I'll say 175k! Average interest on a home loan in 2004 was around 6%, with a 20% downpayment Darry will be paying 1k a month for the mortgage. Not that bad!

Phone bill is p cheap around 100$ feel like you may be able to play around with this. Like maybe they're paying for Johnny? Who knows not me I want to go to bed!

Food is like so fucking expensive now tbh. I pay $300 a month on grocery shopping a month for my household. Assuming Darry is purchasing food for himself, his brothers, and a little extra for the gang I'm going to put his grocery bill at around $500 a month. I think I'm lowkey low balling it, but I think he'd be a good bargain shopper. Btw, don't ask if he qualifies for food stamps! Because he doesn't!

internet bill is significantly cheaper going to be around $50 a month, as for services like live streaming and other things, we're gonna say it's all pirated. no one is paying for that shit when you can get it online for free! (Personal hc: Steve is a fucking amazing pirate and can get you literally anything you ask for.)

Final cost of living for my boys, not including school supplies, school/extra curriculars/or clothing: $2400 - $3350

Ending conclusion: If Darry works 80+ hours a week and Soda helps out with his part-time job they have more then enough to pay for almost all living expenses. Tell me where I fucked up! Thanks. Btw according to the shittily done w2 I did for Darry he'd get almost 2k in tax returns; i most def fucked something up but I'mma accept it despite that.

[yinwaryuri]

Jack and Joker: The Bank Scene

Happy Monday my friends, we finally are getting our gay heist show! YinWar truly have outdone themselves with the level of quality they've put into it and I couldn't be more excited or more grateful.

I wanted to break down the scene where Joke robs the bank because, given my experience in banking, it's was scripted very purposefully in favor of suspending our belief. Admittedly, my experience is in the US, and not all financial institutions operate the same, but for safety and security measures they're pretty standard across the board.

I was really appreciative of the disclaimer given ahead of time. It speaks to the research that was done for the sake of how much they could accurately portray the events, and when that seemed impossible and they couldn't let go of the scene, they said fuck it - gay story over realism it is. This break down is certainly not to dig at the writing; it's more to buff my knowledge than anything.

We love you YinWar, thanks for having respect for bank employees. Now let's get to the employees I don't respect, and the non-employee that I do.

For the most part, security officers don't need to do more than greet customers, and if there is any suspicion he shouldn't immediately interrogate someone. He's there for when things get escalated, or if there are any faces he should be looking out for (anyone banned from a branch for any reason), then he can confront them. If Joke had made an attempt at another location and that one tipped off others, then he would have a reason to suspect him.

Joke's mistake here: Being seen. He is so identifiable throughout. The show didn't bother checking any CCTVs, but he makes no attempt to hide from them. Instant jail. Sorry my guy. He also chooses a very unusual method and time of day to strike.

Since the officer did confront him, Joke gives an excuse.

This was a good call. If someone from another location or office, or a third party contracted service is coming, the employees would be notified beforehand of whom they should be and during which times. And even if the person is easily recognizable physically, they will have company identification on them, and if the security measures are extra strict, a form of government ID would also need to be shown.

LOUD WRONG ANSWER BUZZER

So what Joke is going to look for is someone who appears less competent. He looks at the older woman who likely has years under her belt and knows he has no chances there. But the girl to her left....

TARGET ACQUIRED

And she's already in trouble.

Oh hon.

That's never a situation I'd want to be in. Calling customers to inform them that there's been a mistake made on their account is never fun and it often is hard to reach them. There are ways of simply correcting the error and informing the person after it's been done just so they know what to expect when they look at the activity on their statement. Whatever the case, she's new, inexperienced, and having a bad day.

The balls he has to say this. Bestie. Have you ever touched banking software.

He's just getting her out of the way. If she had received any proper training and meant to apply it at all, this would've been a red flag. She is trusting the judgement of the security officer. Joke hasn't introduced himself by name and if he meant to help fix the mistake he wouldn't make her leave. It would be her responsibility and a good training opportunity. Instead, this happens....

She's risking so many things! Security within the immediate premises, security of the bank's information, confidentiality of the customers' information (which is literally their government ID, home address, other contact info, ALL of their accounts and activity). Absolutely a bad move.

GIRRRLLLL. That is on you. I saw her hesitate, but in the end just knew it was bad. At least where I've been, that possibly means fines and/or jail time for her as well, depending on the severity (most likely fines though). This poor girl is gonna have the worst confidence about her ability on the job after learning she helped a guy embezzle money. Where's her story?

Joke sends the security guard away, gets behind the desk with Carbon's ID and is likely planning to simply empty his account and leave. Then who should show up but Jack! (Next time please direct him to wait in a queue, your "manager" is supposedly still fixing your little check blunder, remember?)

And even Joke is nervous for a moment because he definitely didn't want to get the cute bartender involved.

Nevertheless, he humors Jack and listens to the bittersweet story of his childhood and his dream of opening a school. I love Jack, I really hope that he is able to open that school someday too.

So this part of the loan process is called the interview. It's where the employee will get an idea of the customer's needs and see if the bank's service is what they're looking for or if there is any particular offers they can make at this time. It's an important process when dealing in person because it will hopefully help the customer know which steps they can take depending upon approval. It's also where documentation is asked to verify what can be approved.

For the most part, Joke's charisma would be fantastic for a banking career because he seems natural at facilitating a conversation that requires someone to open up about their financial needs. He loses marks for not checking actual information, not filing any copies of the information he has been given, not explaining any details about paying the loan down or how having an account works, not starting the account opening process, and the numbers they talk about are vague so we don't even know how much money is in question here (which is probably a writing choice and I'm fine with it).

Instead Joke pulls a Picard and decides to make it so. And flirts at the same time. There's no signage around the branch to speak of this program and he doesn't go into any details, he simply grabs the stamp and seals their fates together.

I do think it's a sweet little change of mind he has. He was simply going to inconvenience Carbon, but what better way to do it (in his mind) than to give the money to the guy who got snubbed because of him?

The office being truly empty does crack me up. Who is supposed to be there and why are they gone? Also, for a bank, that vault is incredibly small. That is a home safe, that is not for securing the assets of the public. Also, most places have updated their protocol to use two people when opening the vault because having two people present also ensures less opportunity for employee theft.

His ass is not wearing gloves!

And, in a final un-bankerly move, he does not count out even the bundles.

FLIRT

I also love that he goes by Joker, but is constantly pulling a Batman exit on Jack.

I feel bad for knowing that I would have absolutely apprehended this man by asking the simplest questions. But I no longer work in that capacity and couldn't give a fuck! Let him do what he wants!

[sailormarijuanera]

(꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

 “Oookaaayy, how about this one?” 

His chin rested on the same hand that held the bright, cherry red lollipop, his eyes barely flashed in your direction before he kept scrolling through his phone with his other hand.

“It isn’t terrible,” he said. The fact that that was the most positive thing he’d said about any of the outfits was the last straw. 

“Why do you agree to do things you clearly don’t want to do.” It wasn’t a question, just followed by a long, exaggerated sigh. You were already at the other side of the store, looking at yourself in the mirror. It was obvious; the only opinion that mattered was yours. 

“Did I?” came his voice, monotone as ever as he popped the candy back into his mouth. 

“Did you what?” you called back. 

“Agree.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so right. Maybe I’ll finally find a new store with less sassy employees” you said in a simple-resolution sounding tone, though you made extra sure to emphasize the first S of the last word anyone would typically use to describe Choso. Nevertheless, it was an easy fix. If you were unwelcome, you’d let him know the message was received. 

You went back into the dressing room, letting out an exasperated puff of air. The shop’s only pocket of space large enough to house the two tiny dressing rooms was tucked into the back corner of the store.  

You had just taken off the top you were trying, eyeing the crimson, lacey bra you were also considering when, without warning, the curtain to your fitting room was yanked to the side. 

“Excu-” 

“Sassy?” he interrupted. “You flaunt around in front of me looking like that, then call me sassy?” 

He was inside the room, closing the curtain behind him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, you had no idea what came over him. “Choso, I-” 

“No, no, I know. You’re sorry, right?” His hands were on your hips, now. “And you’re just dying to make it up to me.” You were against the wall, and he was on you. His fingers digging into your hips, his eyes looking down at you, his lids hooded and heavy. His breathing heavy, you only noticed because his broad chest was at eye-level, and you couldn’t help but notice how much it was moving. 

“I mean, that’s not what I was gonna say,” you were suddenly hyper-aware of his hands. How large they felt against you. “You think I was flaunting?” 

The corner of his lips, his stupid, pouty lips, pulled up just the slightest bit. It was so hard to get any sort of reaction out of him, that ghost of a smile was enough to get your heart racing and your thighs rubbing against each other. His right hand skimmed over the fabric of your skirt- well, the store’s skirt,- before stopping just under your torso. Both of your chests were heaving, now. You were never one to play it cool, and this was definitely not the time you were suddenly going to spawn the ability. He licked his bottom lip, his mouth slightly agape. “I’m going to kiss you.” 

You nodded. 

“Then I’m gonna fuck you in this fitting room.” 

Your thighs pressed against each other again, and he actually gave you a smirk. “Tell me you want it.” 

“I want it,” you whispered. 

“No, baby.” His right hand stayed where it was while his left grabbed you by the chin. Not gently, necessarily, but with just enough grip to convey a message. His dark purple eyes bore into yours, the shadows of the poorly lit room making him look more shrouded in mystery than usual. The semi-permanent bags under his eyes somehow made him that much hotter, which you were sure he was fully aware of. He knew how fine he was, and it was causing you great emotional distress. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Please,” you said. Your voice was raspy, you didn’t realize just how bad you wanted him. Or more accurately, you’d been working so hard to get over your little crush and now it was being undone in seconds. You’d only just stopped fantasizing about him before bed, after meeting him toward the end of spring. Now it was almost fall, and you were being sucked in all over again. 

“There we go,” but his grip on your chin didn’t loosen. Instead, his other hand roamed greedily down your body, then back up before stopping at your chest. His lips finally landed on yours at the same moment his hand slipped under your bra. The sweet cherry flavor lingered on his breath, mingled with the simple, clean-smelling cologne you always associated him with. You wanted nothing more than to sink into him and meld your mouth into his until separation became a distant thought, a fleeting notion. But he wasn’t having it, you couldn’t get too comfortable apparently, there were things to do. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipple ever so slightly, but just enough to send a delicious shiver down your body, right between your legs. You could feel how wet you were getting, and somewhere in the back of your mind was the hope that he would be into it. He grabbed your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling back just a bit, then he let go. His eyes met yours. 

He didn’t say anything, only moved that same fucking hand from your tit down your stomach, his fingers moving right past your underwear like it wasn’t even there because why the fuck were you even wearing underwear? Huh? 

Two fingers slipped in so easily, that it seemed to earn you some praise. “Oh my fucking god,” he groaned, and relief and arousal battled over which would consume you first. “Of course, it’s wet for me. It better be this fucking wet every single time.” His fingers curved into your pussy but couldn’t go any deeper because of your awkward position. That fact didn’t seem to bother him because he seemed just as determined to make you cum. In small, sharp movements he pumped those glorious fucking fingers in and out of you, your pussy dripping by the time he’d decided you’d had enough. You were a gasping mess and you’d never seen him so happy. His smile was small, just barely tugging on the corners of his lips, but it was because of you. 

Now he was on his knees in front of you, his big hands grabbed the skirt by the sides, and flipped up the fabric before landing soft kisses on the front of your thighs.  He bunched up the fabric on one side, his left hand holding the skirt taut around your torso, holding you firmly in place. His right hand grabbed your thigh and brought it over his shoulder, his mouth almost immediately on your cunt. Normally, it’d be a bad sign for a guy to ignore foreplay like this completely, but it seemed his mere existence was enough foreplay for you. He had to be aware of this, because why else would you be so wet?