#and I just think it would work so fucking well in Everything

[rainydaygotham]

The Hall Pass

Robins react to their civilian partner declaring their hero persona as their ‘hall pass���.

(Steph is here too but she’s the instigator. Little stephcass cameo as well. I could write for the girls too if requested tho)

You really don’t know why you keep letting your boyfriend drag you to these hangouts with his siblings.

Sure, they were cool people, but that’s why you weren’t the most comfortable around them. They were fucking superheroes. You were just some kid off the street, and now you regularly spent your evenings playing board games with Gotham’s ‘rich young and powerful’.

Right now you guys were playing Clue. Which got really intense, as you could imagine. You’d think they’d pick a different game, since solving crimes was their day-to-day life, but nah.

They weren’t even being subtle about it. Pretty sure they were all trying to impress you with how fast they could beat the game, too.

It wound down, however. The night had dragged on. The game changed to Uno because that was less brainpower and more drinking.

You hit Stephanie with a Draw Four, that by house rules, stacked with another Draw Four, making girlypop have to draw eight cards total. You really shouldn’t have done that.

You couldn’t remember how you guys got to the subject, but suddenly you were talking about hall passes. You know, that thing where you can bang a certain celebrity if you ever got the chance and your partner can’t get mad.

You think they were just really trying to embarrass your boy. And it was working.

“Mine’s Zendaya,” Stephanie laughed, “people complain that she’s in everything these days but I couldn’t be happier. I’d use that girl’s thighs as earmuffs,” she then animatedly mimed some colorful actions.

Your boyfriend grit his teeth at the crassness. That was more than he needed to know. Cass just rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s antics.

The others chattered their agreement. Zendaya was hot. A worthy hall pass.

Stephanie then turned to you with a sneaky smile, the air of an animal cornering its prey, “What about you, huh Y/n? You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.

“Uh—“ you stuttered, “I don’t know. I believe in fidelity pretty strongly,” you played with a lock of your hair, “and I don’t really let myself think about other guys like that, so,” you tried to deflect.

“Oh, please,” one of your boyfriend’s brothers interjected as he incredulously rolled his eyes at you, “like that’s true,”

“Yeah, and I’m secretly the Queen of England,” Steph added.

“Hey!” your boyfriend defended, “Sounds true to me,” he insisted. You were giving a perfectly good answer and they’re just jealous that they don’t have someone like you in their lives.

“C’mon Y/n. Surely, there’s some celebrity out there who’s caught your eye,” Stephanie knocked back her solo cup dramatically, “You telling me you’ve never had a celebrity crush? Never ever?” she nudged your arm with hers.

“Well…” you stalled for time.

“Well?” she pried.

And then you got an evil thought.

You know that little imp on your shoulder that likes to say “hey, you know what would be so fucking funny?”. Well, you’re going to listen to them for once.

True, you know that you’re sitting in the den of the infamous Gotham vigilante family, but they don’t know that you know that.

“There is… someone…”

“Someone?” your boyfriend pressed, trying really hard to sound like he was simply curious and totally not jealous. At all.

“He’s just—ah” you covered your face in your hands in a pretty good performance of fake embarrassment.

“Who?” they all badgered you as they leaned in like you were about to divulge tomorrow’s winning lottery numbers or something.

“It’s—

[Dick]

“Nightwing,”

Dick choked on his own spit. “NIGHTWING?!” He sputtered.

“He’s just so sexy. I don’t know what to tell you Dickie. He’s such a sweetie. And there’s something about the way he moves. I just get so starstruck when he’s around,”

“When he— When has Nightwing been aroun—”

And suddenly he remembered all those times he thought he was being sneaky, stalking secretly walking you home from the rooftops whenever you got off work at night.

Shit. Did you see him? Maybe once or twice? Was it more? Have you been aware that a whole ass vigilante has been practically stalking you? And you were okay with that?

Maybe you just thought his patrol route lined up with your way home.

But he didn’t have any more time to ponder this as you JUST KEPT GOING OH MY GOD.

“And damnn, have you seen his butt?” you whistled, “His suit is so tight. Sooo tight.” You emphasized.

Dick’s face was redder than a tomato at this point. Someone kill him now. Stephanie looked like she just won aforementioned lottery.

“He’s out here single-handedly keeping the entire ass city of Blüdhaven safe, all while looking like he was sculpted by Michelangelo or something. Literally gorgeous. And I heard he saved a puppy one time. A puppy, Dick. It’s like he was written by a woman. I’d be stupid to NOT tap that sweet ass.”

Suddenly, and probably his brain trying to cope with the mortification, all sorts of filthy fantasies were crossing his mind of you, him, and the Nightwing suit. Why did that sound so hot?

Imagine him coming home, not even shedding the sweaty suit as he made a beeline for you. Imagine dry humping while he’s still suited up. God.

Imagine the hero Nightwing bending an innocent little civilian over the table because you just wanted to thank him for keeping you safe. You’ll do anything for him, anything he wants *wink wink*…

Goddammit Dick! Not in front of The Children (his grown ass siblings lmao).

“Well, looks like Dickhead doesn’t mind,” Jason teased as he nudged his older brother with his elbow, knocking him out of his horny daze.

“Oh, he’s totally down for a threesome with Nightwing, Y/n,” Tim added devilishly.

“Shut up both of you!” Dick’s face literally could not get any hotter.

He hid his face in his hand as the rest of the party descended into giggles. You among them.

Poor Dickie. You’ll have to put him out of his misery and tell him that you know his secret after tonight. And then maybe you will get to tap that.

[Jason]

“Red Hood,”

…Jason was confused. Why would you pick him. What?

“Red Hood?”

Where was all his bravado when he needed it?

“Yeah, Red Hood,” you puffed out your chest in pride, “He’s like legitimately the coolest out of all the bats!”

“No he’s not,” Jason said exasperatedly, “You’re biased because he saved you that one time.”

It was a weird night for him. He couldn’t say he wasn’t pissed to all hell when he caught you getting fucking mugged in an alleyway, but he did enjoy the way you looked at him like he was your hero. Your knight in shining armor. Or knight in a beat up leather jacket and red helmet.

“No, I’m right. Not just because he beat up those goons for me.” you crossed your arms, “Those other vigilantes wish they were as cool as Red Hood. Batman wishes he was as cool as Red Hood,”

“He’s done a lot of bad things,” was all Jason could think to say.

“Antiheroes are sick as fuck, Jay. And he’s sexy as fuck too.”

Oh really now? He could almost roll his eyes.

“You don’t even know what his face looks like,” he scoffed.

“I don’t have to. Have you heard his voice when he talks to reporters? It’s like honey. Hot honey, Jason. I just know he’s gorgeous under that stuffy helmet. Oh! I bet his helmet hair is sexy too.”

Jesus Christ. Jason took a deep breath to center himself. You did not just say. All of that.

“Man, I hope that next time I get mugged he puts that sexy leather jacket around my shoulders,”

Your boyfriend just stared at you, willing the veins to not pop out of his forehead.

“You okay there, Jason?” Duke asked in fake concern, patting him on the back.

“Yeah, you’re looking a little.. Red,”

Oh, Jason was going to kill Tim for that one.

Forget them, there’s something more important on his mind now, “There will not be a ‘next time you get mugged’, Y/n,” he said annoyed.

“Oh sure there will. We live in Gotham,” you waved your hand in dismisal.

Lord have mercy on his soul.

Looks like ‘Red Hood’ was going to have to pay you a visit to have a little chat about safety. Again.

And maybe it’ll be as Jason, your boyfriend. If he can work up the courage. Maybe. Maybe it won’t be as bad as he’s been making it out in his head. If your staunch defense of him tonight proved anything. Maybe you’ll love Red Hood too. He won’t have to hide that part of himself anymore. He’d give you all of him, if you would take it.

[Tim]

“Red Robin,”

“Ooooh,” the siblings chorused.

Tim was unexpectedly quiet, however.

“…That’s an interesting choice.” he sounded weirdly calm, lost in thought as his eyes flickered like he was calculating something, “Red Robin,” he said it more to himself than anything.

Not exactly the embarrassed reaction you were hoping for. You were kinda confused, “What do you mean?”

“Well it’s just that he’s not exactly popular, you know? Like, you could’ve chosen Nightwing. That would be the obvious choice here. Everyone loves Nightwing,”

You pretended to not hear Dick scoff at that.

“Well, I don’t love Nightwing,” you said and also pretended to not hear the little wounded noise Dick made at that, and then the sound of the air getting knocked out of his lungs as Jason jabbed him in the stomach.

“So why Red Robin?”

“Well, again, sorry to Nightwing, but Red’s my favorite Robin. He’s just objectively the best.”

“Objectively?”

You started listing off reasons on your fingers, “He’s the smartest of the bunch, he’s the most successful, he’s the prettiest—“

“All of those things are highly debatable,” Jason interjected.

You shook your head, “Look, we’re lucky he hasn’t chose to go rogue because he’d be an incredibly powerful supervillain. He’d be unstoppable. And he’s my Robin. So really. There’s no denying it,”

“Your Robin?”

“Yeah, My Robin,” you fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist, that Tim recognized as the tracker he secretly put on you.

He knew if he gave you something, you’d never take it off. And sue him, he likes knowing where you are at all times. Helps soothe his anxiety about letting you roam around Gotham as you please.

It alerts him if you stray along an unusual path (dangerous) or stay in one place too long (also dangerous). Not your home or work or any of the shops and cafes you frequented. Just like. If you stay on a side street too long, then something’s happening. And he needs to know that immediately.

Seeing your little icon on the map safe and sound in your home was a comfort to him. Sometimes he’d fall asleep watching the unmoving icon.

“He’s like, the Robin who was active while I was growing up, you know? He’s the one I saw on the news and watched rooftops with my telescope hoping to get a good picture of him. That was the guy I wanted to save me. My Robin.”

“Oh so when you said objectively, you meant subjectively,” Damian didn’t sound impressed.

“No. I mean objectively. Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean he isn’t legitimately the best,” you crossed your arms, “You’re just jealous, Tiny,” you stuck out your tongue at the younger boy.

Damian squinted his eyes at your childish display.

Tim laughed, “Well, I guess I really can’t be mad if you sleep with him, then,”

“You can’t,” you said smugly.

Tim slipped his arm over your shoulder, and you melted into him. You might not have changed his plans on the perfect time to tell you his secret (which is next month, your anniversary), but this sure was entertaining. At least now he knows you won’t be mad.

(Bonus) [Damian]

“Robin,”

“Robin?” Damian echoed, voice tinny like he was outside of his body.

“I’m sorry Dami, he’s just really cool—“

“I have to kill him.”

“What?”

“I have to kill Robin, obviously,” he said solemnly as he quickly stood up from his chair, making a scraping noise on the floor, “The hunt starts now. Goodbye, Beloved, I will be back soon.”

“Damian!” you called after him as he dramatically left the room.

(He just went to go get more soda from the fridge. Little shit. But he gave his reflection on the stainless steel door a stern talking-to, of course.)

[justevelynnnn]

Don’t open that!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Reader

Summary: Mark slips up and sends you a picture but what he doesn’t know is you actually end up liking it…

Warnings: MDNI 🔞, Reader is written with being afab in mind but can be gender neutral, mentions of a d pic being sent to reader

A/N: This idea came up to me while i was at work so i had to get it out…but omg imagine this scenario with me😭 also I’m working on a lot of my drafts and requests tonight I promise😭‼️

It was just another late saturday night. You were trying decompress from working earlier that day as well as letting your dinner digest before bed. You lived a simple life. You had your own place now even though you were 20. It was nice, small but yours. It had ambient lighting, a candle here and there…lots of pillows….

Your bed was extra soft tonight too though it probably just feels that way because of how tired you were.

You also had a decent view.

Sometimes you’d leave your window cracked open just in case Mark stopped by. Ever since he got with Amber and then later Eve you haven’t seen him much, but he still came by occasionally. It was just hard. You were convinced you guys would get married and everything back in high school.

A crush might be an understatement to be honest, but saying you were in love was also too much. Especially because you were a teenager, like, what did you know about love? Even though everything still reminded you of him. Or you loved being around him no matter what you guys were doing.

Mark being invincible was weird too. Your ex best friend, a superhero. Flying and punching bad guys daily. Going into literal outer space. It definitely took some getting used to.

Now you were laying on your bed upside down and scrolling on social media. Aside from the occasional video that popped up and the cars honking from below it was quiet in your room. Nice and peaceful.

You didn’t know you had silent mode off on your phone though so that’s why the sudden DING! from your phone scared the shit out of you.

It was message. From Mark.

It said:

Just now | Mark💞 : [One attachment]

You quirked an eyebrow. A meme maybe?

Your finger moved to click the notification. It’s been days since he sent you anything honestly so part of you was excited. However, when you saw what it was your jaw dropped and your heart took a fucking screenshot.

If the angle wasn’t enough it was that dick. His.

Your eyes settled on it for a full minute. You assumed he saw you were looking because he had read receipts on…but you typed nothing. You couldn’t. What could you even say?

You couldn’t even be mad. You should’ve. It was an unprovoked dick pic. In the past, you’d be fuming by now, but, obviously, this was different. Right?

He had his phone angled so it was as if one were looking up at him, his shirt up on his torso so his abs showed, and right in the forefront was his hardened dick. Right there. His tip was flushed and oozing from what you saw too. You couldn’t hell but think that just like his face, his dick was just as captivating.

His face was in the corner but kinda cut but you could see his eyes half lidded and his face was rosy pink.

You mouthed, “Oh my god…”

Eve or Amber or whoever he was with now that was supposed to get this was lucky as shit. You tried to also ignore the rising jealousy for the mystery girl too.

It’s been 3 minutes now. Maybe he didn’t see it went totally the wrong girl? Part of you was scared it WAS meant for you. Not in a bad way. Maybe you were actually nervous.

Then those 3 dots appeared. Oh god.

You swipe out of your messages app. You couldn’t look and let him see you were still staring.

Then another notification just as quick as the dots appeared came from the top of your screen.

Just Now | Mark 💞: DONT OPEN THAT

Just Now | Mark 💞: Oh my fucking god

Just Now | Mark 💞: Don’t open it please

Just Now | Mark 💞: I’m so sorry

You wondered if he saw the little “read” under to his picture or not. Probably not if he’s telling you not to open it.

You waited a minute while he sent a few more panicked texts. Then you sigh and open the app again. What could you say? Something cocky? A joke? Maybe send an emoji? You had to say something because you already saw it and you didn’t want things to be awkward for days on end following this.

Your fingers just start to move.

You: It’s okay Mark

You: It was a mistake

You paused. You thought hard about sending the next text. Then:

You: Also i have to tell you, you’re really hot

You: Sorry if that’s weird.

Nothing. But it said read immediately. Your heart was still hammering in your chest from it all. This actually changes everything. Part of you wanted to know who it was for. A smaller part wondered why he couldn’t just check who he was sending this to.

Things are going to be awkward now for sure.

He starts typing again seconds later. This time you watch the dots. Anticipation building slowly as you wondered what he was going to say next. You had to look away from your phone and at one of your burning candles as you waited.

Mark 💞: It’s fine

Mark 💞: Sorry i fucked up so bad. i seriously didn’t mean to

Mark 💞: I know your traumatized, i’ll make it up to you i promise

Mark 💞: :(

You giggle a bit at the sad face. He normally used it when he joked so you liked how he could joke about this. Your heart now flutters imagining his reaction. His flushed face and sorry eyes behind his screen. Maybe that lip bite thing he does when he’s nervous.

You typed back slowly, deciding to take a risk.

You: I’m not traumatized….actually i kinda liked it..

Your breath hitches as you hit send and this time you actually threw your phone. You couldn’t look again. Hell no. This was the stupidest thing you couldn’t done-

Ding!

You flinch. You slowly turn your phone around so you could see your lock screen with the notification on it.

Just Now | Mark 💞: Oh?

Just “oh”. Now it your turn to be mortified. Has he figured you out? Does he think you’re weird? You hated how he didn’t use emojis so you knew how he was feeling. Even a hint. Was he intrigued? Or grossed out?

You open your messages to reply with an apology when you see just in time another message come through.

Mark 💞: Wanna see it again?

Your eyes widened for the hundredth time that night. You wanted to type yes in all caps immediately but you withheld. You took a deep breath. Things we changing, and fast. You wanted to do this right. Maybe this is your change to finally get with him in your own eccentric way.

You think hard before responding.

You: I wouldn’t mind

He doesn’t respond for a few more minutes. You wish you knew what he was thinking. And you prayed you didn’t go too far.

And just like that your prayers were answered. You sat up on your bed as you saw the second image come in.

Your face was lit up in the semi dark room when the picture appeared. If looking from outside your window, impossible for being on the tenth floor by the way, they’d see your mixed look of shock and arousal. They’d see how you bit your lip and just stares at your phone.

But no one could ever guess you were looking at your best friend’s dick for the second time that night.

You made a choice and hearted the image.

In his own room, Mark smiled. Sure it was meant for Eve because she decided to get back with Rex but your reaction just changed everything.

[solastarr]

Both Ain’t Shit- Smoke vers.

Smoke Moore x Black Reader

Genre: Smut with plot

Word count: 6.2k+

Summary: You and Smoke have been having a little fling for a while now. But Smoke pushes you too far. And now it’s time to show him you can play the game just as well as him, and remind him who he’s dealing with.

Warnings: cheating if you squint, p in v, fem receiving oral, use of n word, banter, and cussing

Authors notes: i’m so sorry for making yall wait so long for this. This was very long so i think my next few pieces will be short. I have a lot more ideas to come tho! Enjoy!!

He is not my man.

I mean, yeah he be at my place more than his own. He got a designated space in my closet for his clothes, he sometimes gets packages sent to my address, and my neighbors think he’s my husband…

But Elijah Moore is not my man.

And I wasn’t his woman neither.

Or at least that's what we tell everyone…

Me and Smoke wasn’t nothing but a good time to each other at first. The risky nights, flirty texts, and playing house was fun and all at first. But then I fell too deep into our fake fantasy. 

Smoke has everything I want in a man–drive, ambition, quite confidence and he gave me sex that made me forget my own name. Everything I dreamed of, but he didn’t give me the security, honesty, and title of the relationship I wanted. 

I used to care, I used to ask, I used to cry about the women that approached us in public like I was some homewrecker, the days when he would leave and not talk to me, the late nights where he would up and go handle “business” without putting on proper clothes or packing his work bag. And I say this with my chest because I will never again fall for his games. 

He use to gaslight me so well I thought I was going crazy and made up the entire thing. And I tried to leave, put the mess of a relationship behind me but Smoke can make you feel like you the only one, even when you know for a fact you’re not. 

And I always knew, I always knew.

Between the late replies, dirty stares from women I don’t know in shops giving me dirty stares, and the way his phone magically stayed face down every time he came over.

I’d have to be stupid to not know. 

But now?

I play it cool. Smile in his face, moan in his ear, and act like I’m not being used. Because I know I can run game too. He wants to be a player? Bet you I can play dirty too if not dirtier.

Because even when he’s out chasing whatever new girl that caught his eye, he still ends up in my bed. He might go ghost for a day or two, but he always shows back up with that same sorry ass smirk like he ain’t been doing me wrong. But I know I mean something to him because I’m the one he slips up and calls when he’s drunk, the one he trusts with his silence, his stress, his secrets. I’m not stupid—I know I’m not the only one he touches, but I’m the only one that sees Elijah Moore. They might get Smoke, but I get both. And maybe that makes me just as dumb as them, but at least I’m the one he always runs back to. Even if he pretends like he’s just passing through.

 I don’t return the energy to the same extent—not 'cause I’m loyal, but 'cause none of them other dudes make me feel what Smoke do. They don’t got that pull on me. They don’t got that calm but dangerous aura that make your knees weak and pride nonexistent. And I hate that. I hate that I crave the same man that got me second-guessing my worth, but still got the power to fuck me like I’m the only woman in the world. They couldn’t handle me anyway—not like he can. So I let him think he winning… while I lose my damn mind behind closed doors.

But tonight he did something that was a new low.

I should have know something was off when he showed up to my door with flowers.  

Smoke ain’t ever gave me no fucking flowers. He do give orgasms and headaches. He do “You good?” texts at 2 in the morning. But flowers. Roses? Never .But there he was—standing in the doorway like a fever dream—holding roses like that alone could undo months of hurt. They were fresh too, like he’d actually cared enough to stop and pick the best ones for me. The red looked loud against the cool evening light, too loud for a man who whispered lies in a voice so calm it sounded like love.

That was guilt wrapped in a heart shaped box. With a weak ass smirk. 

“What’s this for?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe of my front door with my arms crossed. Staring at him with confusion and surprise in my voice.

He smirked. “ I can’t do something nice for you?” He says dressed in his typical grey suit with a blue tie, with a caring but deceitful look in his eyes.

He walked past me like he owned the place– even though some days he practically lived here. He dropped the roses in the middle of my dining room table like they meant something to me and then found his way back to me by sliding his arm around my waist. I let him. I always let him. Because I deserve some fun out of this too. 

The night started like our normal routine. Dinner. Jokes. Laying in his chest while telling him about my day. He even started talking to me about how he wants to take me on a getaway trip so he can show me the world. Which should have been red flag number two. But again I just wanted to get the most out of him being with me.

The third flag was what got me though. 

I was looking for one of my heels that I had recently broken on accident in hopes I could get a little money out of him for all the problems that come with him. But while I was looking I saw a little velvet box tucked in the bag he packed to spend the night. 

At first, my heart jumped–thinking that maybe something came over him and knocked him into his senses to commit to me. Thinking maybe it was a promise ring or something stupid like that.

But as I got closer I realized how familiar the box looked. When me and Smoke started messing around he gave me a gold anklet as a little keep me in mind gift. And I still wear it to this day because you cant see it under my clothes in public, it makes him pound me into the mattress when he sees while we fucking, and because I thought it was a genuine gift he was giving me because he cared.(you’re a dummy bitch)

Out of curiosity I kneeled down checking my surroundings to make sure he wasn’t about to come help me look for whatever I came in my room for. I opened the box to see the exact anklet that was on my leg. The box has a note attached to it that read, 

“To J.”

“J… Who the fuck is J?” I thought to myself. My blood immediately started to boil. Vision blurring. But I collected myself to steady my hands as I closed the box and zipped his bag right back up with a smirk on my face. This was my green light to start fucking with him.

I walked back into the living room. I didn’t ask no questions. Didn’t start a fight. Didn’t even make a petty remark. I gave him one more night, one last kiss, and last moan. Letting him think everything was sweet. Made it real good too, gave him my all.

Because tomorrow?

I’m getting my lick back.

Next day 

I woke up like I knew nothing.

Played the same role—sweet, soft, and familiar. I kissed him good morning, made him breakfast, even ironed the shirt he accidentally wrinkled from throwing it in his bag.

He was still in bed by the time I was done, shirtless in only his underwear, stretching like he ain’t just spent the whole night with his tongue in me. The sun crept in through the blinds, laying golden ribbons across his broad muscular back. He looked good—too damn good for someone who didn’t deserve me.

I walked past the bedroom doorway with my coffee in hand, making sure to get all his shit together so he could be on his way. I looked like a woman coming down from a long night—curls falling messily from the makeshift bun, nightgown straps slipping off my shoulders from running round the house. But the second I heard his voice, I paused.

“Damn, you just gon’ walk past me like that?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and fake concern.

“Didn’t know you were still here,” I replied over my shoulder, taking a slow sip from my mug. “Usually you’d be gone by now.”

He chuckled, that lazy one he does when he thinks he’s charming.

“That how we acting today?”

I kept moving, gathering his keys, wallet, phone charger—placing everything neatly by the door.

“I made breakfast. Even ironed your shirt. What else you want?”

“I thought maybe we could chill for a second.”

I glanced over at him, leaving my bed, half-dressed and stretching. Taking his sweet time like he ain’t planning to meet another girl in a few hours. “I’ve got stuff to do. You got places to be and people to see, don’t you?” I tilt my head, all sweet like honey over broken glass.

He raised an eyebrow, trying to read me.

“You good? I just wanted to make sure my girl was alright after last night.” He grinned—half pervert, half innocent—as if the memory of his mouth on me gave him the right to ask.

“I’m great,” I said with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Got what I needed, didn’t I?”

He laughed, low and amused like he thought I was playing. But I wasn’t.

I brushed past him, slow enough to feel his heat, fast enough to pretend it didn’t burn. Before I left the room, I paused.

“Your shirt’s on the couch, still warm. Coffee on the counter, take it to go.”

I walked toward the hallway mirror, pretending to fix a loose curl, but really, I was watching him through the reflection. Watching him fake like he wasn’t confused.

He moved slow, dragging himself out into the hall, “Damn, you rushing me out?”

I turned, still calm. “Not rushing,” I shrugged. “Just... reminding you that you do have somewhere else to be. I mean, don’t you have brunch plans? I know I’m not the only per—I mean, thing you tend to in your day-to-day.” I offered a soft, fake smile

He smirked. “Why you always doin’ that?” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head, voice dipped in charm and guilt like he didn’t know where he stood.

I turned back to the mirror. “Doing what?”

He walked into the hallway like he owned it—coffee in one hand, confusion in the other. “Throwing lil’ jabs like I ain’t been here every night this week.”

I tilted my head, slow. “And yet somehow, still not doing right.”

That shut him up for a second.

“If you got something to say—”

I cut him off with a soft laugh, eyes still on my reflection. “I don’t. Nothing to say. Nothing new, anyway.”

I walked to the door, held it open like a polite hostess.

“I don’t want to stand between you and your business. They seem to be getting impatient.” I nodded toward his phone lighting up again with a text he didn’t bother hiding.

He looked at it, then back at me. “You really on one today, huh?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Just on schedule.”

He stepped onto the porch, shirt tugged, ego bruised, still confused

“You good though?” he asked again, this time softer. Smaller.

I leaned against the doorframe, cool and casual. 

“Always,” I said.

And then I slammed the door in his face.

Later that day

The silence in the apartment after he left was thick. Like the walls were holding their breath, waiting for me to fall apart.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I ran a hot shower, scrubbed him off my skin, and let the steam cleanse every trace of him from my pores. Then I pulled open my closet and picked the one dress I knew would make someone stare too long and think too hard.

It was satin—deep red, the kind of red that doesn’t beg for attention but demands it. It clung in all the right places and slid over my thighs like water. I slipped on gold hoops, sprayed the perfume he used to compliment before he stopped noticing, and glossed my lips.

I needed to get back at Elijah in a way that would make his blood boil. Elijah used to have a friend named Darius that always showed me a little too much attention when me and Elijah would run into him. Compliments that were too attentive, gifts too expensive, and hugs that were intended to be more than friendly. 

Elijah hated it. Hated him.

Then my phone lit up:

Darius: I’m outside.

I smiled to myself, grabbed my bag, and walked to the door with the same grin smoke gives when he’s fucked me over. 

We walked into Club Eden like we’d done it before. Darius had one hand on the small of my back, the other in his pocket, grinning like we go together. I kept my chin high, every step deliberate, the red satin of my dress catching the lights just right. Heads turned, we looked good, and I knew it. But I wasn’t here for the stares. I was searching for one face in the crowd. Just smiling, slow and sweet, as Darius guided me deeper inside the club I knew too well.

Smoke wasn’t hard to spot.

Even in the low-lit haze of Club Eden, he stood out like sin dressed in success. Black slacks tailored to perfection, button-up open just enough to show that gold chain he never took off, and a gold watch to match catching flashes of light as he leaned back, calm and calculating.

And he wasn’t alone.

She sat next to him, legs crossed, laughing because she didn’t know about our twinning anklets. It shimmered around her ankle like a middle finger straight to my face.

I didn’t react. Couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I leaned back against Darius, legs draped over his lap like it was second nature. I smiled, slow and sweet, twirling my straw in my drink as if I wasn’t locked in a silent war with the man across the room.

Smoke’s eyes met mine—dark, unreadable, but I knew that look. His jaw was clenched. His tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. The girl next to him leaned in to whisper something, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. Just kept his gaze on me like I had his whole night wrapped around my finger.

Good.

I tilted my head, let my curls fall over one shoulder, and whispered something in Darius’s ear. Didn’t matter what, I just needed to see Smoke look at me.

He did and I knew I had him right where I wanted him.

“Wanna dance?” I asked Darius, my voice soft but just loud enough. He grinned like he’d been waiting for the invite. “You know I do.”

The second I stood, I felt Elijah’s stare follow every step I took. I didn’t look back. Just led Darius to the dance floor like we owned it. The bass hit heavy, the colorful led lights spun soft, and I let my body move—slow, effortless, sensual. Darius tried to keep up, hands respectful but curious. I didn’t care. I wasn’t dancing with him for him. I was dancing for the man sitting in the corner pretending he didn’t care.

Elijah didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But when I twirled to catch his gaze again—he was gone.

Just like that.

I smirked, satisfied, even as my chest tightened.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Darius, brushing a kiss on his cheek before slipping toward the restroom.

The bathroom was cool and quiet. I touched up my lip gloss, adjusted my dress, and took a deep breath. The game was fun, but it was stressful. And I was starting to feel the heat of it rise to my skin.

I opened the door, and there he was.

Smoke.

Leaning against the wall like. His arms were crossed. His shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to show the tattoos on his forearms, jaw tight, eyes darker than I remembered.

I blinked. “You lost?”

He didn’t smile. “Was about to ask you the same thing.”

I crossed my arms, mirroring him. “Bathroom’s not your usual hangout, is it?”

“I saw you dancing,” he said, voice low and clipped. “Looked like you were real comfortable.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Darius is sweet,” I said, letting the name linger to make sure it burns.

His jaw flexed. “He’s a clown.”

“He’s not you,” I shrugged. “That’s kind of the point.”I look at him with amusement because I know i’m getting under his skin.

“You really brought him here?” he asked, stepping closer. “To my spot?”

“Oh, my bad,” I said with mock concern. “Didn’t realize I needed permission to come to the club. Should I check in next time?”

His tongue dragged across his teeth like he was trying not to snap. “You knew I’d be here.”

I tilted my head. “Did I?”

He scoffed, stepping in just close enough that I could smell his cologne. “You doing all this for what? Huh? To make me jealous?”

I smiled. “Ain’t nobody checkin for you Smoke?”

His hand came up, not touching me—just hovering near my waist like muscle memory. As he towered looking down at me,  “You think I care about Darius? You think I give a fuck about that lame ass nigga?” 

I leaned in, just a breath from his lips. “Well… he was talking real good about having dessert back at my place. So maybe I will leave your “spot”.”I give him a menacing grin.

His whole body tensed.

“You lyin’,” he said, but his voice cracked just enough to expose the panic under the rage.

I laughed. “Am I?”

I stared up at him, not moving. “See, I think you care more than you wanna admit. But I think you should head back to your little date. I wouldn’t want her ankles to get sore waiting on you.”

He flinched. Just a flicker. But I saw it.

“Keep playin’ with me,” he warned, voice almost a whisper. “You forget, I know how to handle you.”

I laughed, low and bitter. “Yeah? If that’s what you want to call your lame ass stroke game.”

His mouth opened—but I started to walk away before he could respond. Because I was definitely lying about his stroke game unfortunately.

“Have fun tonight, Elijah,” I said, brushing past him, the scent of my perfume trailing between us like a dare.

And then I walked away—hips swaying, heels clicking, heart pounding—but head held high.

As the night continued I still felt the heat of Smoke and his date that hes not paying any attention to anymore on me. I continued to dance, flirt, and laugh with Darious to prove that I can play game too. I even let Darious’s hands explore my body a little. Rub my thighs, grip my ass a little while dancing, let his hands run up and down my curves. By the time the lights came on in the club and all the drunks were scrambling out to their rides. I let Darious drive me home. 

The car ride was actually nice. The moon was bright and full, soft R&B music was playing, and the conversation we had was amazing. Darious is a really sweet guy, but I know it would be wrong to drag him into me and Smoke’s mess. Plus I don’t want smoke to kill him…

We made it to my apartment and I knew I wouldn’t have much time until Smoke showed up at my door to interrogate me. Darious wanted to come up, but I knew if he did someone would end up in jail. So I said my goodbyes to Darious and promised him another night out soon as I walked back into my apartment. 

As soon as I walked through the door I took a quick shower, changed into a silk blue night gown with white lace trimming, fluffed my curls, removed my make up and prepped my skin for whatever is going to happen in the next few hours. Lastly I got myself a glass of wine and sat on my couch and read a book as I waited for him. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I needed to be ready nonetheless.

Not even twenty minutes late I hear a loud banging at my door. Three quick, violent knocks. Like the wood itself owed him an answer. I didn’t rush.

I took my time taking a last sip of wine, stood slowly, let my silk nightgown cling to my hips like it was made to tease. I walked barefoot to the door, cool and collected, like I hadn’t been waiting on this exact moment since I walked out of that damn club.

I opened the door just enough so he could see me. And there he was leaning against the door frame using one of arms for leverage.

Pupils dilated with nothing but anger. Jaw tight. Other hand clenched at his sides trying to contain himself.

“Where that nigga at?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play with me,” he snarled, stepping inside like this was his home. His head was on a swivel. “You let him fuck you?”

I shut the door. Walked right past his rage and sat on the edge of the couch, crossing my legs with purpose.

“Hello to you too Elijah, come one in?” I stated.

“Answer the question,” he snapped.

I smiled, slow and dangerous. “I don’t have to do shit.”

Smoke stepped closer, his whole body on fire with fury.

“You wasn’t gon’ fuck him.”He looked at me like he was challenging me to give him the wrong answer to send him over the edge. 

“Wanna bet?” I raise an eyebrow and give a deceitful smirk.

He snatched the glass from my hand, set it down with a rough thunk, and stepped between my knees. Boiling with anger waiting for me to say the wrong thing to make him explode.

“Say that shit again.”

I looked up at him, lips parted just slightly.

“I was gon’ let him taste every inch of me… then let him sleep right where you do.”

His hand wrapped around my throat in a flash—tight, hot, possessive.

“You gon’ let another man lay where I sleep?” he growled.

I smiled, the tension around my neck turning me on, breath hitching. “I was gon’ let him do more than that.”

He paused. That’s when I stood up. No fear. Just slow, deliberate grace as I walked past him and down the hall.

“You can keep lookin’ for him if you want,” I said over my shoulder, “but if you was really scared I let that man touch me, you’d be too late. He left already.”

I didn’t wait to see if he followed. I went straight to my bedroom, sat at the vanity, touched up my lip gloss with calm hands. Behind me, I heard heavy footsteps pause in the doorway.

His eyes were all over the room. Searching. Burning.

“You think this shit cute?” he asked, voice gravel-thick. His eyes looked me up and down almost in disgust and jealousy.

I met his gaze in the mirror. “No. I think it’s fair.”

He stepped inside, slower now. Confused. Angry. Hurt. “What the fuck mean by that?”

I turned on the stool and faced him, legs crossed again. My night gown starting to rise a bit up my thighs.

“It means I’ve been waiting on you to choose me, Elijah. Or at least grow a pair and tell me that this bullshit we got going on isn’t going nowhere. But you’d rather keep me close, fuck me, then go back to pretending I don’t exist.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His shoulders dropped like the weight of my words finally registered.

“I’ve given you space, time, silence. I’ve let you spin this thing however you wanted, and I stayed. Quiet. Loyal. Patient. But I’m done beggin’ a “grown-ass” man to act like one.”

Smoke’s jaw flexed. His hands were twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab me or punch a wall.

“So yeah,” I said softly. “I let him touch me. I let his hands roam a little. Not ‘cause I wanted him. But because I needed you to feel what it’s like to watch the person you believed was yours go play boyfriend to other bitches.”

Smoke’s jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone.

I watched him. Calm on the outside. Heart thudding like a war drum on the inside.

“You really was thinking of letting that nigga touch you?” His voice was low now. Dangerous. “He don’t even know what to do with you.”

I stood up slow, walked toward him like prey that didn’t fear the predator. “He may not know how to handle me,” I said, standing chest to chest. “But at least he acts like he wanted me.”

That landed. Hard. He blinked once—tight, sharp—like the words had cut straight through his ribcage. His hand gripped the back of my neck, and whispered against the shell of my ear.

“I ain’t act like I wanted you, huh? Was that before or after I fucked you outside that club becuase you was letting niggas grind on you and I had you cryin’ and creamin’ on my dick?”

My breath caught.

“Or when I had you bent over your own counter, sayin’ you was mine with a mouth full of my name? Because you like flirting with dudes in front of me. That's not ‘wantin’ you’ either?”

My knees pressed together tight.

“You sayin’ he acted like he wanted you…” he scoffed. “Cool. But did he make you cum in under five minutes on your bedroom floor? Did he eat you ‘til your voice broke because you was hitting up the dudes in your DM’s?”

“Shut up,” I breathed, voice shaking.

“Say it,” he taunted, eyes on fire now. “Tell me he could have touched you like I did. Tell me he could have made you forget your own fuckin’ name. When you go out half naked with your girls and come back with ten new numbers in your phone”

“I—” My chest rose and fell too fast. “He didn’t.”

Smoke’s gaze burned through me.

“I didn’t lose you,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Even when you out here pretending like I’m the only one fucking up. You ain’t been right by me either.”

My mouth parted, but I didn’t respond.

“You mine,” he said. “Still mine.”

He stepped forward as I kept moving back, until the backs of my knees hit the bed. Still, he hadn’t laid a single hand on me—but I could feel every word on my skin.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”, I give him a confused but intrigued look. 

“You know what the fuck I’m askin’, ma.”

My mouth opened, but he didn’t wait.

He dropped to his knees and pushed me back on to the bed.

“I should make you beg,” he growled. “After that bullshit you pulled tonight.”

“But I missed this pussy…” he muttered, shoving me back onto the bed, hands pushing my nightgown up slow.

He paused. Smirked. “No panties?”

I smiled, real smug. “Why wear ‘em when I knew you was gonna end up on your knees anyway?”

His eyes darkened. Jaw clenched.

Then his mouth was on my clit immediately. Hot, angry, wild.

He licked me like he was punishing me, tongue stiff and fast, nose buried deep like he needed every drop. He groaned when I whimpered. Flattened his tongue against my clit, then flicked it until my hips jerked.

“Say who it belongs to,” he growled against me.

I gasped. “Fuck—”

He sucked my clit hard enough to pull the words out of me.

“Say it.”

“Fuck you Elija–”

He slapped the inside of my thigh. “Try again.” starting like and suck faster. 

I gave in, my climax was near and continued to build, “It’s yours! It’s your pussy!”

His eyes locked on mine, lips shiny and glistening with me. “Damn right.” He licked me slower now, dragging it out, two fingers slipping inside me, curling just right.

My back arched off the bed.

“Louder,” he whispered. “Let the whole fuckin’ building know who got you cryin’ like this.”I whimpered his name, high and cracked, as he tongue-fucked me like he needed it to breathe.

“Had me stressing bout you letting some other dude in here?” he muttered between licks. “In this pussy?”

“Wanted you to feel it,” I moaned. “Wanted you to know—what it felt like.”

“Never again,” he growled. “You mine. You hear me?”

“Then act like it,” I snapped, as I begin grinding against his face. “Act like I’m yours.” I say as I grab the back of his head to push him further in to me. 

He laughed low, filthy. “Oh I’m ‘bout to show you, baby.”

Then he dove back in, no mercy, dragging me through a climax so hard I shook, hands fisting the sheets, moaning his name like a prayer and a curse all in one.

My thighs were still shaking when he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he’d just devoured something messy and rare.

He looked down at me—lips glistening, chest rising and falling, jaw tight with hunger.

“You talk too much,” he muttered.

“I was making a point.” I snap back, out of breath.

He grabbed my waist, flipped me over onto my stomach like I weighed nothing.

“Yeah?” His voice dropped. “Make it now.”

I didn’t have time to speak—he yanked my hips back, arching my ass high in the air, pressing my face down into the mattress with one heavy hand on the back of my neck.

“Say that shit again,” he hissed into my ear, breath hot. “Say how he acted like he wanted you.”

“Elijah—”

“Mm-mm.” He pressed harder on my neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to let me know who was in control. “You wanted Daddy’s attention?”

He lined himself up, thick and heavy against my soaked entrance. His other hand gripped my ass, spreading me open.

“Well, you got it now.”

And then—he thrust inside me, deep and fast. No hesitation. No gentleness. Just raw, angry, need.

“Fuck!” I try to muffle my moan as I pushed my face into the mattress.

“Nah, don’t get shy now,” he growled, snapping his hips against me again, again. “You was runnin’ your mouth a minute ago. Where all that shit talk go?”

The slapping of skin echoed through the room, loud and wet. His hips slammed into mine, balls smacking against my clit with each brutal stroke. The bedframe creaked under the force, the mattress giving under the weight of his big, muscular body.

Smoke’s build was all lean muscle and hard edges—wide back, thick arms caging me in as he pounded into me from behind, I could feel the tension radiating off him.

“You wanted to make me jealous? You wanted me mad?” he breathed, chest pressing into my back. “Well, now you got me.”

He drove deeper, grunting, hips rolling in filthy rhythm. “This what you wanted, huh? Daddy stretchin’ you out like this? Say it.”

I whimpered, arching into him, my ass bouncing back against his thrusts.

“Say it.”

“It’s what I wanted,” I moaned into the pillow. “I wanted you—fuck—I needed you.”

He leaned in closer, biting the curve of my shoulder.

“You mine, baby. You don’t gotta play games for me to see you. You all I ever see.”

He fucked me harder then, no mercy. My pussy clenching around him, trying to keep him in with every stroke.

“Look at this pussy suckin’ me in,” he growled, voice thick with possessiveness. “You act up just to get it like this, don’t you?”

His palm came down on my ass, the sting making me cry out.

“You love it when I fuck you back into your place, huh?.”

I could barely respond, the way he was hitting made my thoughts scatter like dust. All I could do was moan and take it.

“You gon’ behave now?” he asked, yanking my hair so I lifted my face off the pillow. “Or you need another round?”

“Give it to me,” I panted. “I can take it.”

That did something to him. His next thrust knocked the wind outta me.

“You do all this talkin’, just to shut the fuck up when this dick in you. That’s your problem.”

The pace got even filthier—fast, relentless, dragging sounds out of both of us that had no place outside of a bedroom.

The air was thick with heat and sweat and desperation.

“Say you mine again,” he ordered, breath ragged. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m—fuck— i’m yours, Daddy.”

That sent him over. He slammed into me one last time, deep and hard, filling me up with a loud groan that vibrated against my spine.

I followed right after, walls pulsing around him, toes curling, throat raw from moaning his name.

We collapsed together, breathless and shaking, tangled in the mess we made.

He was still catching his breath, eyes fluttered shut, mouth open like he was trying to gather himself.

I sat there for a second, letting the weight of what just happened settle between us. Sweat slicked my skin, my curls wild and frizzy from all the grinding and grabbing and all that heat. My chest heaved. I watched his body twitch—sensitive, eyes closed, overwhelmed, but still so hard for me.

He didn’t even notice me move.

Until I straddled him again. Hovered over him, lined us up—

And slammed down on his dick.

“Shit—!” he yelped, eyes snapping open like I’d snatched his soul. “Wait—wait—baby—”

I bounce on him hard, grinning down at him like a beast that finally caught its prey.

“You good?” I asked sweetly, breathless.

He gasped barely able to make a sound. “Damn, girl—”

“Thought so.”

I started to move. Slow at first. Just enough to hit him right. His whole body tensed, trying to brace, but he couldn’t. He was too sensitive, and I was overriding his nerves.

“I’m tired of bullshit, Elijah. I want to settle down,” I reminded him, voice low, sultry, taunting. “You going to be better for me, baby?”

“I—I am,” he stammered, jaw tight. “I am, baby—I swear—”

I sped up.

That had him groaning, loud and full in his chest. His hands shot to my thighs, gripping, begging me to slow down—and I didn’t.

“You gon’ answer when I call?” I asked, breath hitching from how deep he was hitting. “No more games?”

“Yes! I got you, baby, just don’t—don’t stop—”

I moved faster.

“Say it again,” I demanded, hips rolling harder, rougher. “Louder.”

“I’m gon’ do right! I swear to God, I’m—fuck—”

He tried to hold my hips, tried to make it last, but he couldn’t keep up. He was shaking, whining, and I loved every second of it.

But so did I.

Every stroke had my moans cracking, turning breathy and sharp, like I was losing the same control I held over him. I started to tremble too, thighs quaking, chest heaving. He was hitting that spot, again and again—stretching me just right.

My hands landed on his chest to steady myself, nails digging in. “You better,” I gasped, voice splintering. “You better fucking do right by me.”

“I will—I swear—baby, please—”

I felt it creeping up on me—my legs tightening, the heat coiling in my belly. “Oh my God—Elijah—”

“Come for me,” he begged, hips bucking under me. “Let go, baby. I got you.”

That did it. I shattered around him with a loud, raw cry, my walls clenching hard, dragging his name out like a prayer. My body folded forward as I pulsed around him, riding every wave, every tremor, until my whole frame shook.

His voice broke under me, hands locking around my hips like he never wanted me to move again. “That’s it, baby… fuck, that’s it.”

Breathless, dazed, I slumped against his chest, heart pounding, sweat glistening on my skin.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned against his neck. “I know I ain’t been fair either.”

His hands slid up my back, holding me tighter.

“I ain’t mean to hurt you,” I whispered. “I just needed to feel wanted too.”

“You got me, ma,” he said hoarsely. “You been had me.”

“I don’t wanna fight no more,” I breathed. “But you gotta do better.”

“I will,” he promised, kissing the side of my face. “You got my word.”

We laid there tangled in silence, both of us wrecked and breathless

~ I hope you liked it! Also send me some asks if you have a request, question, or fic ideas!!

click here to send an ask!!

sola💫

Taglist: @bxunyx @keenkittyconnoisseur @yana3sworld @thefutureemmywinner @roughridah0 @iiiheartfayee @margepimpson @cocooned-butterfly @sajoi @jackierose902109 @wingedpeachjudgegiant @liloswayy @sharpaysbestfriend @cosmicautomatonshark @ivoryyythesimp @dezzy154 @christinabae @doradaexplorher @mikaelsonharem7

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [8] - Diplomacy

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: The first day of work can be stressful.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning.

Word Count: 4381

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was exactly what the first day of school used to feel like.

You couldn’t stop the sigh leaving your lips as you stared up at the Capitol Building, trying to ignore the anxiety churning your stomach. You knew you were supposed to go in, but somehow your legs refused to listen to you, so you exhaled slowly the way your therapist had taught you to get at least some sort of—

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

You jumped out of your skin, then pressed a hand over your chest and glared at Bucky.

“What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“In my defense, you looked pretty out of it already.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And as I said; not too late to change your mind. We can still leave.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “So we just forget about the Congress and everything and go away?”

He grinned. “Mm hm.”

“Where?”

“Brooklyn.”

You tilted your head. “Except that Brooklyn elected you as their representative, I feel like they’d ask what the hell you’re doing there.”

“You make a good point,” he said and thought for a moment. “Okay, new plan.”

“I’m listening.”

“We get new names and identities, move to a small town where no one knows us, and grow old and gray there in peace. We never check the news, ever.”

Your heart skipped a beat but you tried to focus. “Do we have to change Alpine’s name too?”

“I don’t think she’d let us,” he said, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “She missed you, by the way.”

This was not flirting.

This was just friendly. That was it. Two friends talking.

About running away together.

“I missed her too,” you said. “How does she like your new place?”

“She doesn’t,” he murmured before turning to glance at the building. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“Yes.”

You repressed a laugh and bumped your shoulder against his.

“Come on,” you said as you started walking with him next to you. “Today is your day, and you’re gonna be very busy.”

“Yeah, the schedule was pages long,” he said. “I have meetings with people I don’t even know about.”

“Think of it like your debutante ball,” you told him. “They all want to see if you’re the right fit for them, how much dowry you have, and if they can bed you.”

“Please talk to me about something else.”

“Okay. “You shrugged your shoulders. “Onto some heartwarming news; I told Max to go fuck himself last night.”

Bucky frowned. “Hold on, he’s still calling you?”

“I called him,” you said. “He got the apartment after I prepared my boxes and stuff, and I paid the movers extra so that they would move everything without me being there, but apparently Max went through my boxes even if he refuses to admit it, because Blinky is not in any of them.”

“Who’s Blinky?” He paused for a moment. “Or what is Blinky?”

“Blinky is my childhood plushie,” you said. “It’s a fox plushie with one eye, the other eye fell off on the first day, that’s why I named him that. I took him everywhere I moved, and guess what? Max refuses to give him back.”

“Well, that’s interesting information.”

“I know, right?” you asked as you both walked into the building and held up your IDs to go through the security even if Bucky didn’t need to do that. “He claims he hasn’t seen him, but I’m so sure he hides him somewhere in the apartment.”

“You have a toy?”

“It’s a plushie.”

“It’s a toy.”

“It’s a plushie—you know what, I’m not going to stand in the Capitol hallway to argue semantics about my nostalgic childhood plushie with you,” you said while Bucky grinned at you. “You have one thousand things to do and so do I, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That wiped his grin off his face. “Wait, tomorrow? You’re not gonna be around?”

“I’ll be gone all day.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Birdie, no—”

“I have the orientation, I’ll have to meet everyone and stuff, and apparently there’s this tour… It’ll be chaotic. Kels will be with you though, and Caleb as well.”

“But it wouldn’t take you all day,” Bucky tried to convince you as if you were the one who planned the schedule. “What are they going to do, make you tour the place twice? Just tell them you have stuff to do.”

“This is my stuff to do.”

“So you’re leaving me alone with these people?”

You tried not to laugh at the look of betrayal on his face.

“These people are going to be your colleagues,” you reminded him. “So you need to make friends with them. You don’t need me for that.”

“I do need you for that, actually,” he argued. “I don’t…I don’t make friends.”

“Fine, don’t make friends with them, just be civil. You charmed half of Brooklyn, remember?”

“Because you were there.”

“You’ve been through literally the hardest things anyone can go through—”

“To repeat, none of those things required making friends. Or socializing for that matter.”

“You’ll be fine, and I’ll drop by the office if I can,” you assured him. “But remember. Diplomacy. That’s the currency here.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

You took a step to leave, then turned around again to look at him.

“I feel like this goes without saying when it comes to diplomacy, but do not glare at or threaten anyone.”   

Bucky stared at you as if you had just asked him whether Alpine could fly and you pursed your lips, then rolled your shoulders back.

“It’s gonna go great,” you muttered to yourself as you started walking again. “Diplomacy, here we come.”

                                      *

Okay, you expected today to be chaotic, but you did not know it would be this chaotic.

It felt like for the whole day you had been running to one place or the other, and by the time you had found some time to yourself, it was way past lunch time. You had about half an hour until the next item on the schedule so you figured you could drop by Bucky’s office to talk to Kelsey and Caleb and see how Bucky was doing so far.

When you entered the office, most of the team was busy with either their phones or laptops, but Caleb and Kelsey were watching Bucky’s closed door, having a discussion in whispers. You tilted your head, then made your way to them.

 “Is everything okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Caleb asked. “My orientation lasted all day.”

“Mine will too, I just got a break—what is happening?”

Kelsey licked her lips. “Guess who asked for a last minute meeting with Bucky.”

“Who?”

“Amos Drexel.”

Your stomach dropped and you gawked at her. “Sorry?”

“I think you guys are the only people who know this person.”

 “I’ve been memorizing everyone’s faces and names and titles since the election night,” she said. “And trust me, people know who he is. People in high places, if you know what I mean.”

“Kels, he’s just a consultant.”

Kelsey scoffed. “He’s not just a consultant, Caleb.”

“A lobbyist.”

“Lobbyists come and go, this guy has been bribing and extorting the politicians for like, decades. He has half of them in his pocket.”

“I feel like I would’ve heard about him,” Caleb said and Kelsey shook her head.

“He’s too smart for that,” she said. “It’s easier for him if the public thinks he’s just a consultant. But trust me, every single politician here knows about him.”

“What is he doing here?” you asked, your heartbeat getting faster as you stole a look at the closed door. “I checked Bucky’s schedule this morning, he wasn’t there.”

“As I said, last minute meeting,” Kelsey said. “What was I supposed to do when Drexel wanted to see him, ask him to reschedule? I squeezed him in.”

“If he tries to bribe Bucky, I feel like he might kill him.”

“Obviously but that’s not the point,” Kelsey said while you grabbed her penholder so that you could do something with your hands. “The point is, if Drexel is here, it means he wants to—”

You dropped the penholder as soon as the door opened, and you ducked under the desk to gather the pencils as he passed by the desk.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” You heard him say as he walked out of the door and you put all the pens into the holder, then got up from under the desk, letting out a breath.

Bucky looked absolutely furious as he glared in the direction he had disappeared into before his eyes found yours, his gaze softening in a second. You gave him a tightlipped smile and put the holder on the desk—

And the rest of the room turned to the door again.

“Almost forgot.” His voice reached your ears, making your whole body tense up. “Honey? Your mom wants to know if you’re free for dinner next weekend.”

Oh.

Oh he had planned this.

Of course he did. He knew every schedule in this goddamn place, and he knew the moment you had a break, you’d come straight to Bucky’s office.

You forced yourself to ignore the whole team and Bucky staring at you, your cheeks burning in humiliation as you turned around to glare at your father who was standing by the door with a calm smile on his face.

“Make sure to text her please,” he told you. “Have a great first day.”

Then he walked away, leaving the whole office in a stunned silence.

You could feel the tears of frustration burning the back of your eyes but this was neither the time nor the place. You blinked a couple of times, clenching your jaw and then made a beeline into Bucky’s office with Caleb and Kelsey rushing after you. Kelsey closed the door behind her and you licked your lips, taking a deep breath.

“I can explain that—”

“He’s your father?” Caleb asked and you cleared your throat.

“Well…”

“Why is your surname different?”

“How is he your father?” Caleb and Kelsey asked at the same time and you cleared your throat.

“I’ve been asking the same question to my mother for ages now.” You tried to joke as you stole a look at Bucky who was just watching you with an unreadable look on his face.

“Your father is Amos Drexel and you still have roommates?” Kelsey asked, motioning at herself and Caleb, and you shook your head fervently.

“I’m broke.”

Caleb scoffed. “Oh come on—”

“No, I am.” You pulled your phone out to open up your bank app, then showed the screen to them. “See? Totally broke.”

That seemed to have snapped Bucky out of the haze he was in. “Wait, you need money?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head fervently. “No I don’t.”

Caleb stared at your phone screen. “How is that even possible?”

“I got myself a separate bank account when I was eighteen,” you said. “I wouldn’t touch his money with a gun to my head, I know where it comes from. And before you ask, I won’t touch it when he dies either, it will go straight to charity.”

“And he’s okay with that?”

“Not at all but he ignores it, just like he ignores how I’ve been begging him to disown me for years,” you said and turned to Bucky. “Please say something.”

Bucky just held your gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Your surname is different?”

“I changed it to my mother’s maiden name the day I turned eighteen,” you said. “You should’ve seen the paperwork.”

Bucky pointed at the door. “Birdie, I just told your father to go to hell.”

“You—” Kelsey’s eyes widened. “You told him to go to hell?”

“With different words.”

“What words?”

Bucky raised his brows, then motioned at her and you. “You two are here, I can’t exactly say what I said.”

“Bucky how many times must we tell you that people can curse around—” Caleb started but Kelsey cut him off, throwing her head back to look up at the ceiling like she was asking for help.

“Jesus, we’re not gonna last a term.”

“Would he assassinate him?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No one is going to assassinate me, Caleb.”

“Hypothetically, would it even count as assassination if he killed you?”

“No.”

“I was going to say who died and left you in charge of assassinations, but I think everyone in this room knows the answer—”

“Bucky, I don’t think you understand,” Kelsey insisted. “Let’s say you’re Aragorn, this guy is Sauron!”

You made a face.

“He’s not Sauron, his power does have a limit.” You paused for a moment. “He’s Saruman at best.”

“Thanks, that makes it so much better—”

“Can we have the room?” Bucky cut her off and Kelsey and Caleb exchanged glances, then left the office. You could feel the anxiety churning your stomach but you swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes on him.

“Bucky…”

“Why not tell me?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Would you have hired me?”

He frowned. “Of course I would.”

“And how would that go? Here’s my resume, oh by the way, my father bribes and extorts politicians for a living?” you asked. “See, I don’t think you would.”

“So your solution was to keep it a secret? Even after we—” He stopped himself. “Even after we started working together?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I couldn’t just tell you,” you said. “Listen, I wanted to work in politics, and…”

“And you could’ve easily got a job here,” Bucky told you. “You didn’t have to wait until I got elected.”

“Do you think that’s why I’m doing this?” you asked. “Bucky, I don’t want to work for a politician who is only gonna hire me because of my father, he stands for the opposite of everything I believe in—”

“And it’s been like that from the beginning?” he asked, making you pull back. “From the first minute we started working together?”

When the realization crashed down on you, it tightened your throat like a fist.

“You don’t believe me,” you muttered, biting inside your cheek and he let out a breath.

“Birdie, listen—”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “The next time you accuse me of working for my father, or—or having anything to do with his corruption, I will walk away, Bucky. I’ll pick one of the many job offers being thrown at me from someone who’s not in my father’s pocket -surprisingly, there are still some of those- and I’ll go and work for them. So I guess the question you should be asking is, do you really want that to happen?”

With that, you stormed out of the office and made your way to the stairs without sparing anyone a glance, your heart still pounding in your chest.

                                                 *

Well needless to say, as far as first days went, that one was not so good.

You had gone straight home after work without dropping by Bucky’s office again. Caleb came home an hour after you, and Kelsey was the last one to arrive, and they had a lot of questions.

At least they had both brought booze and snacks.

And now, way past midnight, all of you were sitting on the floor, still drinking and snacking but the air felt much lighter.

“I just want to say, Birdie,” Caleb said. “Even if your father is a demon sent from hell to bribe politicians, we love you.”

“Aw, thanks Caleb.”

“Can I also point out that,” Kelsey said, reaching for some chips, “it sure is weird that we have a TV, a fucking gramophone—”

“No badmouthing my gramophone, Kels.”

“But we don’t have a couch?”

“We’ll buy a couch,” you said, throwing a piece of chocolate in air to catch it with your mouth. “Like, next month. When we can afford it.”

“Maybe we should let your father know his daughter doesn’t have a couch, so that he can send us a gold one.”

You shot her a look and she grinned.

“These jokes will continue, just so you know.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered and pointed at the TV. “Swipe left.”

“No, swipe right!” Caleb told Kelsey who tilted her head, still holding her thumb over her phone screen. You had connected her phone to the TV and for over an hour you were going over the ‘options’ for her as Caleb had put it, and even though you’d had doubts at first, this turned out to be much more fun than watching political news.

“I mean he does give off fuckboy vibes, Caleb.”

“I don’t give a shit, he has a dog,” Caleb said. “One of us has to find someone with a dog. Birdie already has Bucky, who has an asshole cat—”

“I don’t have Bucky, and Alpine is a pretty princess.”

“And I’m a dog person,” Caleb said, pointing at the picture on the screen. “Maybe he’ll bring over his dog.”

“You make a good point,” Kelsey said as she swiped right, and all of you made a face at the next picture on the screen.

“Left!”

“Do you guys think I’ll have to work for someone else?”

“I think Bucky would rather resign himself than fire you,” Kelsey stated and Caleb nodded, taking a fistful of jellybeans into his palm.

“She’s right,” he said. “Do you want the green ones?”

“Yes please,” you said and held out your hand so that he could put the green jellybeans in your palm, and you popped them in your mouth. “And if he doesn’t trust me anymore?”

“That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when I told Kels you were already home within his earshot?”

You let out a whine and downed your drink. “It’s gonna be so weird when I see him tomorrow.”

“Just pretend nothing happened,” Kelsey said, making Caleb scoff.  

“I’m sure it’s a very healthy approach to disagreements in a relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” you said sulkily as the roar of a motorcycle outside reached the apartment. “He’s in a relationship with Hazel fucking—swipe right on this one Kels—Brooks.”

“Who hates your guts because she knows Bucky likes you.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “Because Bucky would ever leave his hot, successful, billionaire girlfriend —who is, if I may repeat, super hot— to be with me.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

You flailed your arms. “We don’t even have a damn couch, Kels!”

“Then he fucks you on the floor, who cares?” Caleb exclaimed as he poured more wine into your glass, and your phone buzzed on the floor. You picked it up, sitting up straighter the moment you saw the text.

From: Winter Is Coming

Hey. Are you awake?

“What the…” you muttered and turned the screen to Caleb and Kelsey so that they could read the text. “Is this a ‘you up’ text? Is Bucky sending me a you up text?”

“The man has to google half of the things I text him, but he’s sending you a you up text, sure.” Kelsey scoffed a laugh. “See, told you things would work out. That’s gonna be an apology text, text him back.”

You sent a quick yes, your heartbeat getting faster as Caleb grinned.

“He’s so lying in bed thinking about you, aw!”

“He’s not doing that— ” You started but you were cut off when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Do you mind stepping outside for a minute?

“Holy shit!”

“Caleb, stop shouting!”

“He’s here?!”

“Oh my God, oh my God…” You jumped on your feet, fanning yourself. “What do I do?”

“Well, you calm down,” Kelsey said, getting up as well. “And you go outside.”

“How do I look?”

“You look great.” Kelsey pulled your top down a little and wiggled her brows. “For good luck.”

You took a deep breath, fixed your hair, and rushed out of the apartment to make your way downstairs, then you stepped out of the building to find him leaning against his motorcycle. 

Goddamn it.

You were supposed to be angry at him, but somehow the butterflies in your stomach refused to listen to you.

“To repeat,” you said as you walked down the stairs and approached him. “I have a doorbell.”

“It’s 2 a.m.” Bucky replied, his eyes fixed on you, making your heart skip a beat. “I figured Caleb and Kelsey would be asleep.”

“Nope, we’re picking guys for Kelsey,” you said. “So what brings you here?”

Bucky paused for a moment and licked his lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “About today…”

“Listen, I know you’re gonna say I should’ve told you but you need to understand—”

“I’m sorry.”

That made you stop talking and your eyes snapped up to his, a confused frown pulling your brows together. Bucky gave you an apologetic smile and cleared his throat as if he was willing to get the words out.

“I don’t like it when people hide things from me, and I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes from yours for a moment. “I trust you a lot, so when you—”

You shook your head fervently. “Bucky, I would never betray your trust.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” you insisted. “Because I need you to know that. I would never go behind your back and do anything to—to hurt you in any way.”

That soft light appeared in his blue eyes. “I know.”

“It’s just not who I am.”

“I know, Birdie.”

You bit inside your cheek.

“And I’m sorry too,” you muttered, pressing your palms on your eyes for a moment before dropping your hands. “I swear, something evil comes out of me whenever someone so much as mentions me being anything like him. Especially when I spent years trying to prove that I’m not.”

“I get that.”

You looked down, shifting your weight from one foot to other, then raised your head to smile up at him.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked. “You can help us pick guys for Kels, and there’s wine and snacks.”

“Tempting offer,” he said. “But I’m actually here to drop something off.”

You frowned as he reached into the box behind his motorcycle. “What? I’m pretty sure I got all the files—”

You stopped talking the moment you saw what he pulled out of the box, a gasp leaving your lips and your hands shooting up to your mouth.

Blinky.

He held out the worn out plushie for you and you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before you reached out to take it.

“Wh—how?”

“It was on my way.”

You pulled your brows together, looking down at the fox plushie before raising your glances again.

“My old apartment, which is in New York,” you said slowly, “was on your way to your home, which is in DC.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a mischievous smile.

“Well okay, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “I just got back to the city, that’s why I texted you at this hour.”

You could feel your heart melting in your chest. “You went all the way to New York to get my childhood plushie back?”

“I still think that counts as a toy,” he pointed out as if it was crucial information. “But you said it was important to you, so…”

Don’t kiss him.

You can’t kiss him. He’s your boss, he has a girlfriend, he does not see you that way, do not kiss him.

“And if anything, I’d been wanting to talk to Max for a while now, so the toy was basically just an excuse.”

“It a plushie—” You changed directions mid-sentence. “What do you mean you talked to Max?”

The look on his face was too innocent. “We just had a conversation, that’s all.”

“About?”

“About him not making anything difficult for you. Or something along those lines.”   

The warmth swirled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel lightheaded as you beamed at him, a giggle climbing your chest.

“Bucky.” You breathed out. “I don’t know what to say...”

“Oh it’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you said. “It’s—it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

That made his head snap up, his eyes searching yours while a proud smile pulled at his lips like your praise meant the world to him. It could’ve been funny if you weren’t trying so hard to control yourself from kissing him; the deadliest assassin in the world, the infamous Bucky Barnes who barely smiled at anyone, who could strike fear in anyone’s hearts with a mere glare, now had the same expression of an excited puppy who was given a treat.

His throat bobbed and he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to pull himself together, then gestured at his motorcycle. “I uh, I should go.”

You were painfully aware that you were pouting. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And hey, I’m sure you’re needed inside too. Can’t have Kelsey choose the wrong guy.”

You huffed out a laugh, hugging a plushie to your stomach and nodded.

“See you tomorrow,” you said quietly and took a couple of steps but then turned around to look at him.

“And…” You cleared your throat, your heart pacing in your chest. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

His voice was soft: “Good night Birdie.”

He waited until you were in the building to ride away and you pressed a hand over your chest before climbing the stairs to enter your apartment.

“Hey,” Kelsey said. “How did it—is that a plushie?”

“Bucky got you a plushie?” Caleb asked, confusion clear in his tone and you looked down at the plushie, then back at them.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you rasped out, your voice weak even to your own ears. “I think I’m actually falling for him.”

[keirareidss]

take the reigns - s.r

♡ summary: spencer wants to try taking control in the bedroom, it doesn't work out exactly how he planned pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut wc: 1.3k request here

Spencer is aware that his sex life was slightly unconventional. Traditional stereotypes present men as assertive, sexually adventurous, and emotionally restrained, and women as docile, passive, and emotionally sensitive. He knew that it was different with the two of you and, though he did enjoy it, god did he enjoy it, he felt a little... insecure about it.

He knew communication was important and he couldn't just introduce his idea in the middle of sex. He didn't think you would take it well if he, halfway through, started acting all confident and aggressive. So he decided to approach the idea during your post-dinner routine of co-existing in the living room.

You liked to call it parallel-play. A way of spending time with each other while also doing your own thing. Usually he would read on the couch while you either sat on the floor, doing a puzzle on the coffee table, read alongside him, or scrolled on your phone with your feet in his lap.

Tonight, you decided to let yourself go mindless, scrolling on your phone while he read, his hand on your knee. Spencer had opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed his mouth about four times now, trying to figure out what to say. He took a breath, ready to try again as you looked at him but once he caught your eye, he stopped again.

"What's going on, Spence? Is everything alright?" You were more than a little concerned by the fact that your talkative little genius had suddenly lost his voice.

"No, I'm- I'm fine." He cleared his throat. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Um..." He trailed off. Just do it Spencer. Rip off the band-aid. "I, uh- I wanted to ask if we could try something different?" He said clumsily and it only made you more confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Like... in bed." You tilted your head, biting your lip and struggling to figure out what he was talking about. At your silence, he continued. "I want to- to try being on top." His voice was getting quieter with insecurity as you finally understood.

"Oh. Really?" You asked and he just nodded, avoiding his gaze with a blush rising on his cheeks. You scooted closer, putting his bookmark back in his book and setting it aside. "Why don't you tell me what you'll do?" You suggested in a sultry voice and he looked at you.

"I- I'll, uh, pin you to the bed and... and tie your hands to the headboard." He started and you grinned at how nervous and stuttery he was. "Sorry, I'm not good at this." He said, looking down at his lap.

"It's alright. Keep going, I'm intrigued."

"Okay... I'll undress you and run my hands up your body." He was leaning in now, his nose brushing against yours. You bit your lip. he wasn't half bad at this. "Then I'll, um... I'll start by kissing your neck."

He felt the pull of his lips to yours like magnets and he couldn't resist anymore, slanting his lips over yours. You were glad he'd taken the initiative, one more step towards him being more dominant. You couldn't lie, you were kind of excited. Sometimes a girl just wanted to get fucked.

"Well, shall we move to the bedroom then? You can really show me what you want to do." You said suggestively and he nodded enthusiastically. You both got up, rushing to the bedroom, eager to get your hands on each other. Before you made it to the bed, Spencer caught you around the waist, pulling you into him and pressing another kiss on your lips. You slung an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

"G-get on the bed." Spencer cursed himself for tripping over his words but either you didn't catch it or you didn't care, shuffling back on the bed until your back hit the headboard. You spread your legs open, ready and waiting for him. He crawled onto the bed, kneeling in front of you and kissing you again.

"Take off your clothes." You ordered, forgetting about his wish to take control Apparently he'd forgotten as well, obeying your demand and stripping down to his underwear. He suddenly remembered his mission and tugged you further down the bed, taking both your hands in one of his and pinning them above your head. You grin up at him.

"Is this okay?" He asks, contradicting the dominant energy he was attempting to give off. You chuckled and nodded.

"Perfect, baby. Keep going." He uses his other hand to undo your pants. He tugged them off and then pulled your shirt off as well. His lips found yours and you sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down and making him moan. He absentmindedly let go of your hands, moving to hold your side, his thumb brushing the bottom of your breast. You raised one leg, hooking it over his hip and he lets you flip him on his back, straddling him.

It seems you'd both forgotten he was supposed to be on top again. He let you grind your hips down onto him, his hands gripping your hips as you moved your lips to his collarbones, nipping marks into his skin. You reach down, palming him through his boxers and he bucks up into your hand. You slid your other hand up his chest, brushing your thumb over his nipple and he whimpers.

"That feel good?" You asked. His brain was too hazy to answer so he just whined, nodding his head. You pinched the hard bud between your fingers and he gasped, jolting slightly at the sensation.

You pulled his cock from his boxers, the tip red and leaking precum. You sat up, positioning your hips over his length and sinking down onto him. The stretch always made you feel so good, his hardness filling you up so nicely.

"Shit, oh my god." Spencer moans breathily and you slowly start moving your hips up and down. You reach back, undoing your bra and tossing it aside. Spencer is transfixed by the movement of your breasts, bouncing up and down as you ride his cock. He sits up, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking, at which you moan. He flicks his tongue over the firm peak and you fist your hand in his hair, arching your back.

"I'm close, I'm close." He whines as he buries his face in your neck.

"Let go for me, Spencer." You said, grinding down harder on his lap. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly to him as he jerks and twitches underneath you, cumming inside you. You follow soon after, going still atop him as you coated his cock with your sweet release.

He falls back on the bed, his chest heaving, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. You slowly lift off of him and he flinches at the stimulation. You laid down next to him, propping yourself up on one elbow to look down at him with a loving smile. You brushed his hair back from his head and he looked up at you.

"You okay?" You asked and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I was supposed to be on top." He mumbled grumpily and you chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby. We can try again if you'd like." You suggested with a grin. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I might need a snack first." He murmured, snuggling into you. You chuckled, laying down and letting him curl into you, wrapping your arms around him. You'd try as many times as Spencer wanted to be on top, as long as he was trying with you.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre

[rabbitandmouse]

I agree with @cipheramnesia that TERFs aren't able to separate from the "radical feminist" portion because, well, that's what they are. It's not a DPRK tagline that masquerades itself, it's an embrace of the very acronym. And I gotta agree with the policing/birdcage-ing talked about with @catboybiologist .

But I don't agree with the pic's dip per se, the "TERFs hate men, including trans women, who they see as men." Nor @n0ech's follow-up, because:

Yea they fuckin' do. The essentialist qualifying (and vague stabs at qualia) of masculine as "male" and feminine as "female" is integral to the exclusionary project. A simple search in twitter, tumblr, reddit, mumsnet, Douban, the strange on-again-off-again threads on /lgbt/, the splinters in Kakao Talk, Discord, or, hey, is WOMAD still around? All had, have, and will continue to give us plenty of aggressive examples of hate. We wouldn't suffer hate of women - cis or otherwise - on men or masc boards, so why equivocate here? And related to 1...

2. It fails intersectionality. Hard. How do you explain the "white-cis-male-patriarchal-hegemony" (Dios mío, fetch me a shorter term for this already) in the non-Anglosphere context e.g. Brazil, South Korea, Mexico, China, Ethiopia, Egypt, India? And those are just the ones I have cursory reading on. You can cut the "white" part out, but that doesn't exactly clarify the intersect. Patriarchy can be just as brutal without the USAian light skin cliche and - if you want to follow this to the hilt - a big chunk of the "male" part.

A better question, not well-addressed yet on socials but already poked around the edges with the work of Krell, Rowland, and maybe back with hooks, that I want explained more is: "Why not both?" Why do folks counter-react so hard against the thought that TERFs can hate men-as-category (or, really, masculinity-as-category because queerfolk are never exempt except to foster a convenient alliance as But You're One Of The Good Ones™) while also amplifying the animosity of both self-hate and outward hate of women as genderized category? Or, really, why does the TERF fetishize the "womanness" of being as a reactionary counter to the "maleness" of being, defining its separation as inherent and essential, both a biological and historical inevitability? This feels like good 'ol Phantasms shit a la Judith Butler. It seems like a layup. Why not address it?

Unfortunately, I think the easy answer is: because we want to frame everything as misogyny, and don't want to leave any room for its sub-systemic counterpart. That would invite comparison and dilution, which can't be done. If it doesn't fit into misogyny, it is discarded. Why intersect the masc with the femme and complicate the picture when you've got it figured out as an extension of transition - "Everything is misogyny and just misogyny!" This is where you know we're gonna here a while, and it fucking sucks.

Better, non-IQ and non-Wojak version of the meme I just made

[criminalyapping]

due for trouble | he's around

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: after a one day hiatus on this project i am back and i hope you all like it! as always if you have thoughts or opinions or ideas my asks are always open and i would love to hear from you. ok love u bye

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, age gap relationship, language, alcohol, reader has a mom

< part 4 | part 6 coming soon!

"They put it on the market for 899, when, you know, all of these houses are like, north of a million, so I talked to the realtor and was like, what? What's up with this house, you know?" your mom says into the phone.

You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling. Not that you really want to change the subject, but you had just given yourself a pep talk and were about to lose your bravery.

"Hey, mom, can I change the subject?" you interrupt.

"Oh," she says, "yeah, what's going on?"

"Uh," you start, "I'm havingababy," you say in a rush.

Silence. More silence.

"Mom?" you ask.

"Sorry, what?" she finally returns. "No you're not."

That brings a chuckle out of you.

"Yes, I am." you tell her.

Even more silence.

"Oh. Uhhhhhhh, okay. Okay. What?" she stutters. "I'm sorry, with who?"

"Um, his name is Jack?" you tell her.

"Tell me more." she says.

"His name is Jack," you repeat, "he's a doctor."

"A doctor," she says, mostly to herself.

"Mm hm," you agree.

"And he's," she trails off, "... there?" she asks.

"Not right now," you answer, "but he's like, around. We went to the doctor on Thursday."

"And everything is... good?" she questions.

"Yep," you say, the awkwardness palpable.

"Okay, well, good." she forces out. "Sorry, honey, this is just..." she trails off.

You laugh, "I know,"

"Let me, I don't know, absorb." your mom says. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, for sure," you agree.

"Okay, bye honey, I love you." she says.

"Love you too." you bid goodbye, hanging up the phone.

Could have gone worse, you think.

And that's mom, crossed off the list. Your next ordeal is telling your friends, who frankly you're even more scared of because you just know that they will simply not bite their tongues and will say exactly what they're thinking.

Not wanting to deal with it in person, and maybe ensure a bit of peace after you reveal, you decide to text them. You open your group chat with the three of them and send a picture of your sonogram, quickly followed by a message.

'not taking questions at this time'

Your phone is silent for a second, before a rush of notifications fill your lock screen.

You glance at one before deciding not to interact.

'bitch what the hell'

It does pull a chuckle out of you before you turn your phone over, face down.

It's a gorgeous Saturday afternoon; Jack is sleeping off his night shift, you're on a three day streak of not throwing up, and you are in the middle of a couple of loads of laundry. Your windows are open to let in the light, and telling the important people in your life about the latest situation has you feeling like nothing can bring you down.

You eventually read through your friends' messages, all of them shocked, incredulous, and asking you questions that you don't have the answers to right now.

Your mom sends a text, one that scares you to your core.

'Houses are really expensive in Pittsburgh"

You don't reply to that one.

You do text your friends back, assuring them that yes, you're happy, and no, they don't need to come over right now. Apparently, and unfortunately for you, they all seem to be either free or canceling their plans, and before you know it, all three of them are sitting on your couch.

"How long have you known?" Jiya, your friend from work, asks.

"Um, a few weeks," you reply. You're sitting criss crossed on the floor in front of the couch, taking questions from the panel.

They're all treading and circling around the questions that they really want to ask.

"Okay fine, I'll do it," Emily, your friend you met in college, speaks up. "Who the fuck?" she asks.

You blush, "do you guys remember that guy from the bar?" you say.

"The OLD GUY?" Jada asks in a yell. Jada, Emily, and you all met in college, and Jiya had joined seamlessly when you introduced everyone after a few months of working post-grad.

You hide your head in your hands at their question, groaning out an affirmative sound into them.

"Oh, my god," Emily says, "did you tell him?"

"Yes, I've told him." you reply.

"And?" Jiya prompts.

"And what?" you say, not really wanting to continue with this line of questioning.

"Oh, my god," Emily sighs, throwing herself against the back of your couch.

"Jack is fine, we are fine, and everything is totally fine," you tell them.

"Is he your boyfriend, is he just around, what's going on with him?" Jada asks.

"I don't knowwwwww," you whine. "He's around, and he's nice and caring and asks me how I am all the time," you tell them.

Your friends stare at you with wide eyes.

"Don't give me that fucking look," you murmur.

The three of them share a look between them.

"Okay," Emily agrees, "no judgement, but it seems like you might need to have a conversation." she says.

"I don't wanna," you pout.

"Do you want us to do it for you?" Jiya smirks, snatching your phone off of the coffee table.

"No!" you scream, climbing onto the couch on top of her, reaching for your phone as she holds it up.

A terrifying game of monkey in the middle ensues, your phone being tossed around and handed off as you desperately try to get it back. It ends a few moments later as you all shake with laughter and are barely able to get words out.

You take advantage of the break and snatch your phone back from Jada, who is still crying with laughter.

"He texted me," you tell them as the laughing tapers off.

"What did he say?" Emily squeals.

"That he's on his way with stuff," you say, eyes growing wide with terror.

They share conspiratorial looks.

"When did he say this?" Jiya asks.

You gulp. "20 minutes ago."

Your friendss all cheer, reading between the lines and understanding that he would most likely be here at any time now.

You groan, collapsing on the floor in a heap.

You sit back up quickly, rushing to send him a text.

'sorry I didn't see this. my friends are here and they're monsters who will embarrass me'

He texts back quickly.

'My bad, I should have waited for a response. I just pulled up but I can go'

"He's just gonna go," you tell your friends, dissapointed for a reason that you can't quite put your finger on. Before you can text back with an apology, he sends another message.

'I can still come, though. Just to give you the stuff, it's no problem.'

You bite your lip, typing out a response.

'yeah, if you want to! you're welcome to come and say hi'

"Nevermind, I think he's coming," you tell them, to which they cheer. A second later, there's a knock at your door. You share a look with your friends before all four of you clamor towards the door. Luckily, you get there first and stand with your back against it, giving them a look.

"Be. Normal." you threaten. You point at the couch sternly and they all head back and sit down.

You take a quick breath and turn around and open the door.

"Hi," Jack greets, leaning against the frame. He leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips, catching you off guard.

His eyes flick over to the three on your couch, all smiling devilishly at him.

"Hi," he says again.

"Hi," they echo, actually being normal for once.

You step back, letting Jack in and closing the door.

"Sorry," he says, speaking towards the couch, "didn't mean to crash your party."

"No, we are so glad you're here." Jada replies. Jack laughs in response.

"Uh," he starts, quickly turning his attention back to you. "So, vitamins aren't FDA regulated and I know you're already taking some but I got these. They have some other stuff that'ss research based in them that most don't have." he says, holding out a container of vitamins.

"Aww," one of them coos quietly, before a fleshy slap noise cuts it off.

"Ow," whoever it was quietly says. You're not looking over there.

Jack does; he glances over to the couch and then back at you, smiling.

"I also got you more candies." he says, holding out a large pack of peach rings. Call you crazy, but you swear those are the only things that help the nausea.

"Thank you," you smile, taking the candies as well.

"Okay," he says, rubbing his hands over his jeans. "Well, I can go now."

Somehow, though, Jack ends up sticking around. He sits on the floor with you, drinking a watermelong White Claw that was hanging out at the back of your fridge, and manages to easily win over your friends. He has a surprising knowledge of slang terms that woo's them, not to mention his sense of humor that has them clutching their sides multiple times as the afternoon fades into the evening.

"I have to go to work," Emily eventually whines, groaning about her bartending jobs that gets her more money than any job in the field of her degree.

The other two leave with her, grinning and waving at you and Jack standing in the doorway.

"Your friends are fun." he says with a grin after you shut the door.

"It's fascinating how well you get along with a bunch of 20 somethings." you laugh.

"What can I say," he says with faux pride, "it's a gift."

tagging: @michasia24 @veggieburgerwrites @bruher @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catmomstyles3 @qardasngan @fuckalrighty @rae4725 @beebeechaos

let me know if you want on the taglist!

[hedwig221b]

hey do you have any werewolf courting fic recs for like sterek or any mlm pairing? i love those. 🥺🥺

Hi! I only do recs for sterek fics, so here you go

The Baddest Motherfucker In the Valley by ShieldOfIron

It had started weeks ago. At first, they’d thought it was a dog or a cat. Stiles just helped his dad clean the rabbits off the porch. Next came the deer. That wasn’t so bad, though Stiles still refused to eat the meat that his dad had brought back from the butcher. Then came a mountain lion. A grizzly fucking bear.

The Courting Dilemmas of a Spark and a Werewolf Prince by greenleaf

Talia smiled calmly. “I am well aware that you are not a werewolf, my darling, but I thought this would be the best reading material for you to use as reference. After all, how would you know how to act during a courting ritual if you do not study it?” “But I don’t… I’m not…” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you setting me up with someone?” Talia rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be obtuse, my darling. Why would I set you up with someone –” “Oh, well, that’s good, because–” “–when I have a son who is already perfectly enamored with you?”

Camping & Bonding by Takara_Phoenix

Stiles thinks the pack should go camping, as a bonding exercise. Much to his surprise, Derek agrees with his plan. So the pack goes off into the mountains to camp together. Only after assigning the tents does Stiles question if it really was that good of an idea to share a tent with his Alpha, considering the giant crush he has on Derek…

All I Do (Is Sit And Think About You) by Noname109

The three times Stiles was oblivious, and the one time he figured it out. Or how Stiles figures out how to court a werewolf unintentionally.

be everything that you need by EvanesDust

[excerpt] Stiles could feel Derek's gaze on him. It was like a physical touch, and when he looked over his shoulder, he smirked. Derek's eyes were dark, flared with heat. "See something you like?" Stiles asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. Derek pressed against his back, kissing his shoulder before turning Stiles in his arms. "You know I do."

Enamor Me by crossroadswrite

In which Derek sneakily woos Stiles and doesn't expect him to notice. He keeps catching himself doing these little things and he doesn’t know why. Except that’s a complete lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. He likes Stiles. For whatever reason he likes him. Like, wants to be the best version of himself he possibly can because that’s what Stiles deserves likes him.

how to court a werewolf by graveltotempo

Stiles accidentally begins a courtship with Derek. Wary at first, the werewolf accepts, and Stiles ticks off all the boxes of a traditional Hale werewolf courting - oblivious to the whole thing. Because of course he is. Peter thinks the entire thing is hilarious. Cora thinks that they deserve each other. (spoiler alert: they do)

you are an obsession (i am your possession) by EvanesDust

Once Derek catches that tantalizing scent, he can’t stay away. Stiles. Derek’s completely enthralled by him. Obsessed. But all he can do is stand in the shadows, watching and waiting. Until he can make Stiles his, that is. And when that happens, Derek will never let him go.

Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

Like any other day by Gotta_seduce_the_Rainbow

Everything’s a bit shit. Not only couldn’t Stiles afford to go to college right after high school, he also lost his best friend to the cool kids. Him and Scotty hadn’t been talking for a while, and now Scott had left Beacon Hills with the rest of those lucky bastards. With all their savings spent on his dead mother’s medical bills, Stiles is forced to stay behind and work in a shitty store by a shitty gas station. Life crawls by, so does the first summer fresh out of high school, when none other turns up at the gas station than Derek Hale. Derek Hale, who had been gone for about 15 years after his family died in that fire, only manages to ask Stiles for a book recommendation, before he is already arrested for murder. After that spectacular homecoming he is sure to be the talk of the town. This story is set in a canon divergence alternative universe, where Stiles never found out about werewolves. Now that Derek is back in town, he plans on courting clueless Stiles since they are mates. The way it turned out, it's mostly fluff and smut and slice of life, because I wanted to give these characters some peace (and write in some kinks of mine).

How (Not) to Court a Spark by Michicant123, wanderingeyre

Derek spent the past three months planning, agonizing, and coming to a conclusion. His mom was progressive about many things but she was a traditionalist about courting. She drilled it into all of her children that finding someone you could imagine standing beside in a dangerous world was a precious discovery, especially for an Alpha. Derek wants to make choices that would make his mother proud. It took him a long time to become an Alpha that was even a quarter of what his mother had been. So much of that was because Stiles never gave up on him. It was time Derek courted Stiles Stilinski.

Deer For My Dear by TheSleepyOne

Stiles was not mad at Derek per say. It was hard to be mad at the wolf now that he was getting the help he needed. Derek really does try his best these days. No, Stiles wasn't mad. He was just disappointed.

It's Called Courting by AMatchInWater

Stiles has a crush on Derek and refuses to believe it could be reciprocated….meanwhile Derek has been courting him this whole time.

5 times Derek gave Stiles a dead animal + 1 time Derek gave Stiles a normal gift by Warlock_Nerd

Stiles has been finding dead animals all around his house and is so confused. It isn't until later does he realise why this is happening and who is doing it.

Resistance

How dare the wolf taste those lips, hold him, panting and soft, trembling and eager, so close to his chest? How dare he? Jordan could not move, even if he wanted to. The slick sounds of their kiss, of tongues sliding softly against one another, bitten-off moans, and muffled mewls interspersed with crackling fire — it was hell for him. Stiles was everything Jordan dreamed he would be in a moment like this — he moved just right, arched so beautifully, bared his throat, and grabbed the hand that pressed to his stomach, keeping it there. His smell seeped across the tent, sweeter than ever before and deadly because of it. Jordan’s eyes stung, his fists clenching the cold sheets. Yet, he could not even take a proper breath, for everything smelled of him. For three years, Jordan told himself to resist. Three years of catching Stiles only for the omega to seep from his fingers. Years without ever holding his waist like Jordan wanted to. A month was all it took for Stiles to give it to the wolf.

Treasure

"I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.” It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

your fangs against my skin (the sound of your bones)

This was it, then, huh? It was that easy for Derek to invite someone to his den. Someone other than Stiles. He healed the wolf. Stiles killed his tormentor, mended his blood and bones, and let him sleep beside him. But none of it was enough. He wasn’t a spark, after all, but a witch — evil and alone, locked up in his tower. Witches didn’t get happy endings.

[masterlist link]

[queen-of-gotham]

Rex Sloan, with an ex-girlfriend he gossips with.

Like, she's pre-lobotomy, so she KNOWS he's a dick. But like??? They gossip about EVERYTHING. She knows everything that happens in the GDA and he knows who her co-workers are cheating with.

Like??? Do you see the vision

I doooo. I do see the vision. Hopefully this ficlet does your brain some justice 🙂‍↕️

Yap Sessions

Pairings: Rex Sloan x GN!Reader

Word count: 735

A/N: this is my first X Reader I’ve done in almost as long as immortal has been alive. So there’s that. 😅🙂‍↕️

Warnings: Rex is an asshole and is his own warning, mentions of sex but nothing explicit

Your small apartment is quiet when you first walk in. It had been a long day at work, one small thing after another weighing down on you, and all you really wanted was to collapse on the couch with the take away in your hand and the trashiest television you could find to stream.

And Rex? He knew he loved you. Deep down in his heart of hearts, in the catacombs of his soul where he’s too scared to travel, to realize, to listen really, he thinks you could even be the one. Admitting that to himself is a different story for a different day though when he hears your lock turn and watches your door swings open, hands full with food and your bag.

“Kate and immortal- stop screaming- Kate and immortal are fucking.”

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT.” You tell, startled by the sudden presence in your sanctuary. “Why the hell are you here, Rex? You can’t just *be* here.”

“Why not?” He asks, moving towards you to take the bag of food over to the couch, looks like you’d be sharing tonight through no warrant of your own.

“Because we broke up. Because *you* were fucking Kate. And Eve.” You remind him, huffing a bit as you toss your barista apron to the kitchen table and hang your bag on a hook by the door before joining him on the couch. “What do you mean Kate and Immortal are fucking?”

“I walked in on them in the shower! All three of her!” Rex exclaimed, and suddenly you weren’t so mad because if there was one thing, other than sex, you and Rex did well together, It was yap.

“Kinda serves you right though.” You say as you pop open the Chinese containers and getting your chopsticks open to eat. “Is his dick wrinkly cause he’s so old?”

“Wha- I mean, maybe, I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention to that part.” Rex pulls out a container right after you, helping himself, knowing that you wouldn’t say no.

“I mean fair. I’d like to think it’s wrinkly and his balls are saggy. I don’t think exercise and being buff as hell would change that aspect of growing old.” You state, giggling at the comment.

“No because, he’s probably not even shooting blanks at this point it’s probably just dust.” Rex agrees and you two laugh hard at the expense of his teammate at the GDA. “Speaking of dusty old men, how Cletus?”

You snort when he brings up a coworker at your coffee shop, an old man who had a tendency to flirt with all the women over forty who came into the shop. So you tell him, you catch him up on all the juicy gossip from the shop and how Cletus is fine but the real kicker is a young guy who’s just started and is sleeping his way through the staff, and the conversation just flows.

Your feet end up in his lap at some point after the Chinese food has been finished, and some show got put on the television for background noise. Rex’s hand rubs across your ankle subconsciously as he rambles on about the newest policy Cecil wants to implement and you just watch as he talks. You watch the way his mouth moves, the way his eyebrows tilt down a bit in aggravation, just how handsome he looks

All those feelings come flooding back for a moment, those feelings you can’t allow yourself to really feel anymore because Rex is Rex, and you know somewhere deep down in your gut these moments of domestic bliss never last. That you can’t love him enough to make him a better person.

So you let yourself revel in the moment, taking in all of his mannerisms you committed to heart a long time ago, and you can hope that maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll realize what he truly lost with you and change.

Until then, you’ll enjoy the sound of his voice and his laugh and everything that makes him your favorite asshole of a person, you’ll bask in every innocent touch, you’ll probably still answer every late night ‘u up?’ text because no one makes you feel as full intimately as he does, and you’ll keep hoping that maybe the stars will just right to bring you back together in a better way than you both were before.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

A/N: This is probably one of my longer writings and it was all I could think about for so long! I really worked hard on it, and I hope you like it <3 Please like, comment, and reblog if you do enjoy my work because it means the world and helps keep me motivated.

I know this isn't exactly how Void works but let's pretend for this writing 😬 I couldn't think of another scenario

Notes and Warnings: This is angst to fluff I swear! There's talk about insecurities and not being wanted/feelings of being worthless. Please don't read if that is a hard subject to read. The red font is the void talking.

The full fic of this idea

Bob Masterlist

Summary: Void takes over one day and uses everything you've told Bob against you to try and get you to leave Bob's side. When Bob remembers what happens he has to make it up to you.

Word count: 2,930

You and Bob have been close since the vault. The team had assumed you two became a couple from how you acted together. If you were running to the store, Bob was going with you. If Bob was making a mug of tea or coffee, he would prepare one for you as well. Every Tuesday the two of you would watch old cartoons and every Sunday the two of you would meet to have your little book club meeting. You reminded him to eat and drink water daily and he did the same for you. You two just found it easy to take care of each other. 

Since the two of you were so close you shared everything with each other, having someone that close to him was helping him gain control in every aspect. He was more confident in himself and his abilities, Bob had never felt such ease before, the two of you had your routines, had your little bubble where nothing but peace and comfort seemed to reach either of you. Even when Bob was having a dark day, a day where he started to feel himself slip, you still stuck by him to bring in the light again. He felt invincible when he knew he had you. 

Then he dreamt he didn’t have you anymore. 

Bob was having a good day that day, honestly, he was close to having a month of nothing but good days. The team had no mission, no debriefings. Everything felt calm in the tower for the first time. Everyone was off doing their own thing and enjoying the calm before the next storm. You were up in your room when he came in asking if you knew where he could watch Scooby Doo, so instead you invited him to stay and watch it with you. The two of you spent the day sitting closer than two “friends” usually would. After a few hours went by Bob left to go back to his room feeling lucky that he got to spend his day with you once again. 

So why did his brain have to fuck things up? Why did he have to make a whole dream sequence of you leaving him, of you distancing yourself from him, of you saying he was too much to handle, of you confirming his biggest fear. Why did he have to witness you telling him you’d never love him? 

When Bob left his room the next morning the entire tower seemed to stand on edge. No one was aware of the presence yet, but they could tell something changed overnight. He sat motionless at the kitchen table just staring at his mug while replaying the most vivid moment from his dream. “I don’t love you like I loved you yesterday.” Those words echoed, your voice filling every crack in his soul. Was it a dream or was it a haunting memory he had suppressed… “Bob? You okay over there buddy?” Yelena asked uncharacteristically timidly. All she got back in response was a stabbing glare. “Good talk, I’ll go talk to the wall now for more of a response.” 

You walked into the kitchen completely unaware of the situation at hand. You greeted him with your usual sleepy smile and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before making a cup of coffee. “G’morning” you sighed, “Do you have plans today? I thought we could go to the bookstore to find some new books for book club this month.” His heart almost went out for you, how sweet…how innocent…how pathetic you were. 

“That doesn’t seem like a good use of my time.” He said in an abrasive tone. He could see you physically flinch, your eyebrows furrowed together, and your nose crinkled slightly. He noticed you blinked once…twice…a look of pure confusion washed over you. Was it from his comment or was it his tone. Whatever it was made him perk up Oh…This will be fun. This can be a good use of my time. A sick and twisted smile appeared across his face when you looked over and witnessed it form +++++++++++++++++++++you could feel your stomach drop. “Oh fuck” You mumble realizing Bob was gone for the time being. This won’t be fun. 

You weren’t having the greatest day. The rest of the team needed to meet with Valentina to go over their last mission but since you and Bob weren’t a part of that mission you two stayed at the tower. Alone. For hours. You tried your best to keep the day going as any other day, you made the two of you food, something that you knew was one of Bob’s favorites. When you went to give him his plate, he took the plate, gave you a short-harsh smile and dropped it to the floor. “Oops.” He muttered as he walked around you and the mess “I gave you an opportunity to finally become useful you should be thanking me and taking that opportunity. Now clean up your disgusting mess weakling.” His voice continued to echo through your head all day. It didn’t matter if you were in the room with him or on completely different floors he somehow got into your head.

You would never regret your relationship with Bob, you could never regret letting yourself get close to him. You never feared him, that's why you allowed him in, allowed him to learn everything about you-- including your biggest insecurities. Usually, he would hold you on those dark days, the days where your mind fed into your darker thoughts, and he would whisper reassuring words with such care that it seemed that he was afraid if he spoke loudly everything would crumble. You could never regret loving Bob… You did however hate Void. You hated how he was taking something pure, something safe and making you fear it. He was taking the cheapest shots at you, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

You still tried to stick to Bob as much as you could throughout the day. You knew he needed the reminder that people were here for him, that you were here for him. You refused to abandon him just because Void wanted to fuck with your head. You wouldn’t give Void that satisfaction. But that didn’t make it easier to listen to everything the Void was telling you and he was getting more and more irritated by your presence. The more annoyed he got the sharper his words hit. 

“This is pathetic. You’re truly so miniscule, I don’t understand how anyone can put up with your constant presence. Do you not read the room? Do you not know how to take the hints that everyone is leaving because of you? I mean the entire team left you alone today, not only that they left you alone with me with complete and utter darkness. If that doesn’t scream ‘get lost’ I don’t know what would.” 

“How could you just sit there and act like you're fine? Doesn’t it get lonely? Knowing no one has ever truly loved you, never wanted you? Your parents put up with you but that was only for so long, your first team couldn’t work with such a freak and who could ever love someone…something like you? I mean Bob told me everything, well more so you told Bob everything. Again, fucking pathetic, what’s next you tell your diary all you little problems? Dear diary, no one even took a glimpse towards me today. Dear diary, everyone avoided me again today.”  

“How could you survive this long alone?” He asked while slithering closer to you, “Don’t you ever just want to sit in the dark? I know what is in you little weakling I can sense it; you’re just another Bob. It won’t be long til you surrender to me. Won’t be long at all until everyone shows how utterly terrified, they are of you.” 

He glared at you as the only response you gave him was a clench jaw and a slow nod. “No, you’re completely right.” you muttered unfazed by him. You saw his glare fluctuate. Before you could do anything, he was in front of you. “You think you're so strong, so smart, don't you? Nothing is stronger than me, especially not a worthless being like you” his voice deepened as he got angrier. Time seemed to still as you watched his hand jut out and wrap around your throat. He leans in and whispers in your ear “Why aren’t you listening to me? I’m telling you the truth that you are struggling to accept…Bob knows that he deserves better than you. He will never love you. Someone as ridiculous as Bob doesn’t even want you.” A whimper falls from your lips as you stop the fighting. Pride fills his chest knowing he finally found your biggest insecurity. 

The last thing you hear before it everything went black was the elevator chiming and the team yelling your name. Void drops you to the floor without a care and saunters off to his room before the team could get to him. 

Bob wakes up the next day in a haze and with a headache. He slowly got out of bed, aware that he doesn’t have a steady footing just yet. Memories of yesterday kept flashing in the back of his mind. He doesn’t remember much, just that it was only you and him in the tower. He sighed disappointed that he obviously lost control of that side of himself again and missed having a day with you. Hopefully you could fill in the missing pieces for him. 

He pulls at the end of his sleeves as he wanders to the kitchen. The air in the tower felt tense, it was thick, uncomfortable. Something clearly happened. His mind spirals: what happened yesterday? What did I do yesterday? When he gets to the kitchen his shoulders relax seeing you at the counter stirring your cup of coffee still in your pajamas. The peace that you bring him started to settle in his bones once more, but it quickly vanishes when he sees bruises on your neck and shoulder. His eyes rack your build trying to find any more injuries. You wore your hair in a clip and had on a pair of his shorts and one of your tank tops, you knew it might be risky wear clothes that showed the marks that void left the day before but you thought you had time before Bob woke up, last time void took over Bob slept nearly the entire day afterwards.

“What happened!? Those can't be from the last mission you were on that was weeks ago! These - These are fresh.” Bob’s voice echoed, the panic in his voice was clear to anyone who heard. His heart shattered seeing you flinch at his words. “Bob!” Your voice hitched before you forced yourself to relax your shoulder, reminding yourself that Bob did nothing wrong, that he has never and would never hurt you. “How um - how’d you sleep honey?” 

He shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t. Don’t do that, what happened? Why aren’t you answering that question?” He clenched his jaw slightly. “Bob it really isn’t as bad as it looks…the med bay already cleared me.” His eyes widen slightly hearing the words med bay. “Let me see.” The tone in his voice made it clear that there was no room for arguing. He walks up to you; his fingers trail the bruises he can see with a feather-like touch. 

As soon as his fingers touched one of the bruises all the memories from yesterday came rushing back to him. All the hate filled words, all the way Void used your insecurities against you. The way his hand wrapped around your throat before dropping you like you were nothing. All the lies you were told and convinced were true. Bob flinched as if you had struck him with lightning, his hand pulled away from you and he staggered back. 

“I-Oh God I’m going to be sick. I hurt you. He hurt you!” He swallowed harshly and looked around the kitchen frantically. “How long were you left with him? Why didn’t you leave? You should’ve left!” His breathing picked up as he started to panic. "You know none of that stuff is true right? That everything he said was a lie? Fuck I can't believe this. I-You are amazing and and I..." He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head as he tried to find the words, "I don't know what I'd do without you"  

“Bob” you said in a soft but force tone, walking over to him you remembered how he explained that feeling you there helped calm him. You grabbed his hand and put it on your chest for him to feel your heartbeat. “I will never leave you. He didn’t do much damage; he didn’t put me in any room or force me to witness anything. All he did was take cheap shots towards me before leaving a few bruises. It wasn’t you, I know that and so do you. It was just a bad day.” 

His mind continued spiraling as you reassured him. One of his bad days shouldn't warrant you getting hurt.

“I never want you getting hurt. I don’t care if it’s a papercut or Void doing the damage.” Bob relaxes feeling your heartbeat, but the look of distress was still on his face. “Let me make this up to you…where did you want to go yesterday? The um the bookstore, right? We can go and stop at that cafe you like so much. Whatever you want I'll get you whatever you want whenever you want.” He rambles before nodding, “No yeah that’s what we’re doing.” He says with a newfound confidence. “Go get dressed and we’ll head out. Don’t bring any wallet or anything I want to handle it all today.” Before he realized it, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head, the feeling of your head against his lips made him freeze before slowly pulling back. “I’m going to go get ready.” He said quickly before rushing off to his room before you could respond. If only he stuck around to see the blush that bloomed across your cheeks. 

The bookstore smelled like lavender and dust, the sunlight streamed through the windows and the bell above the door gave a high-pitched chime as you stepped inside, trailing behind Bob. He held the door for you but didn't let go of your hand once.

It had been a quiet walk over, but it was the kind of silence you both understood. Not heavy. Not strained. A silence filled with small squeezes of reassurance, glances that asked are you okay? and received silent nods that said I am with you here.

You wandered through the aisles together, the space between you practically nonexistent as Bob leaned in to show you a mystery novel he thought you'd like, or when you held up a book with a dragon on the cover and smile just to see him roll his eyes. He still added it to the stack, of course.

After walking through every aisle, the two of you sat on a bench in the corner, your knees brushing against each other. You were flipping through a book of poetry when Bob spoke quietly, his voice soft like he was still afraid of breaking something.

“I, um… I remembered everything. From yesterday. You know? I just can’t stop thinking about it.” He swallowed hard, but didn’t let go of your hand. “What Void said. What I said.” His knuckles went white, holding the book too tightly now. “I know it wasn’t me, but… it came from me, and I just…I hate that he got to you. That he said those things. I hate that I was a part of the thing that hurt you.”

You turned, placing your hand gently on the side of his face. “You came back. That’s what matters to me. I know the difference, Bob. I always know when it’s you.”

He closed his eyes for a second, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing anchoring him to the moment. “I love you.”

You froze. His eyes blinked open, wide and scared now that the words had escaped him. “I didn’t mean to say that out of nowhere, I just" He shook his head in disbelief shocked by the way the day was turning out. "No. I did mean to say it.” He laughed nervously, looking down at your entwined hands. “I’ve loved you for a while. It was easier to try and pretend it was friendship. But yesterday scared the hell out of me. It still scares me. And today watching you stand there, just being you after everything…” He exhaled shakily. “You’re my person.”

There was no dramatic music. No grand declarations. Just warmth. Just you leaning in, your forehead resting against his.

“I love you too, Bob,” you whispered.

His eyes shimmered, and he smiled a soft, boyish smile that made him look like he wasn’t holding the world on his shoulders anymore. “You do?”

“I do,” you nodded. “I always have. Even when you steal my favorite mug.”

He chuckled and leaned in even closer, his lips brushing yours gently. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, it was safe, it was warm, and full of all the things neither of you had ever needed to say out loud until now.

And for the first time in a long time, Bob didn’t feel like he had to brace himself for impact.

You stayed curled up in that corner for a while longer, books forgotten beside you. The world outside your bubble could wait.

This moment, this peace, it was yours and nothing could ruin it.

Tagging:

@lexanator3000

@moompie

@shiningdyingmoon

@itsjustisa

[captainpriceslilwife]

little thing with John Price that goes from angst to smut to angst again and then fluff and back to smut....pretty much checked all the boxes here i think. okay yay <3 also ill be honest...idk if i like how this turned out, but.....here it is *serves up half-eaten charcuterie board made from lunchables*

Basically Price is using your daddy kink as a trojan horse to rewrite your neural pathways <3 but like...with love Shoutout @coco-killed-the-angels for implanting these worms (insecure girl x price) into my brain <333 CW: deep insecurities (bc i'm the one writing it, so...it's a given), daddy kink, crying, praise kink (?) - does it count if he's just praising you in a sexual setting and its not necessarily a kink idk, if you're allergic to true, deep love and you just want smut this is not the work for you, not DDLG but like...the cousin of it. Or sibling. DDLG adjacent.

Your day had started off rough.

Well, the whole week, really. With deadlines and headaches looming over your head, it's no wonder that you ended up in such a state this morning.

You were just barely fighting the childish urge to just whack the brush over your head, so you tried to move on to putting your makeup. Which only ended in you crying in frustration when it started to cake up, and then you began crying even harder when your tears started making the rest of it slide off of your face.

"So fucking stupid." You had whispered under your breath as your shaky hands wiped at your face in a sorry attempt to fix everything - only to make it worse.

That's how John found you in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing at your face with a towel to wipe everything off as you sobbed quietly to yourself.

"Woah, woah, woah...sweetheart." His hands are quick to wrap around yours to halt your movements, and you try to bow your head to avoid his gaze, but he tilts his head right alongside you. "What's all this, huh? What's wrong, sweet girl?"

And he tries his hardest to comfort you, he really does, but you're just so lost in your anguish that you blow up in his face the moment he suggests you be gentle with yourself.

"No! I have to wear makeup today because my face is breaking out and I look ugly, b-but I keep ruining it because I'm crying! God, I can't do anything without ruining it!"

Maybe you were just hormonal or about to get your period, but it didn't matter. Your insecurities sound the same no matter what chemical is bouncing around in your brain to cause it.

Which is how you ended up here - on your hands and knees on the bed, facing the mirror on the dresser with John's cock nestled deep inside of you.

He had already been working you up for hours, teasing and licking and fingering you until you could barely hold yourself up - which explains why he's got one hand curled at the base of your skull to hold your head up by your hair to force you to watch as he fucks you.

But he's not even fucking you. He's just...sitting inside of you. Not moving. Making you whine and whimper as he stares at you through the smudged reflection of the mirror. You plead with him quietly, fresh tears blooming to wash away the dried tracks from your earlier malaise, but he just shakes his head and pulls your hair back a bit more.

"I already told you what to do, sweetheart. Go on." But you just blink at him dumbly with those teary eyes, too far gone to remember how you got here, let alone what he just said five seconds ago. But that's alright - if war taught him anything, it was how to be patient. Especially with a soft thing like you.

"Daddy's not moving until you say something you like about yourself."

Oh, right. That.

You had kind of been hoping he would just fuck your brains out so you could ignore your little meltdown earlier and forget it ever happened - but clearly John had different plans.

"I don't want to."

Brat.

Even when you were trembling beneath him and begging him to fuck you, you still had the nerve to talk back to him. But John knows you well enough to know that you aren't acting out just for the fun of it. So, he isn't going to punish you now. You're upset, and insecure, and you just want him to take it all away so you don't have to think about it.

Which is exactly what he's doing - even if you can't see it from where you are mentally. He's just playing the long game.

"One thing, baby." He murmurs in your ear, locking eyes with you in the mirror as he curls himself over your back to press his hairy chest into you, making you mewl softly. "Just say one little thing you like about yourself, and Daddy will fuck you, just like you want. I promise."

And you poor thing - you're just so desperate. You're cunt is leaking around his cock and no matter how much you try to rock your hips back to get some kind of friction, he's holding you too tight to make any real progress.

So you give up. Or give in. Either way, you decide to just let go and think of something - if only just to get him to pound you into the mattress the way you wanted.

But when you looked at yourself in the mirror - all puffy eyes, splotchy cheeks, and tangled hair - all you could see is what you didn't like.

Every bump, every scar, every part that's too much, and every part that's not enough. Suddenly every mean voice in your head has a stage - telling you about all the times you failed and how you aren't worthy of anything good in this world. Ugly, stupid, worthless, annoying-

There's nothing you can think of, even to just throw out meaninglessly to get him to hop off your case. Nothing.

And all you can do is choke out a pathetic sob - lower lip trembling violently as you squeeze your eyes shut to block out the mean voices circling around in your head. "Daddy, I can't...I c-can't think of anything."

He had expected a bit of resistance from you, but the way your face crumpled so sadly at the prospect of complimenting yourself made his heart ache in his chest. Clearly your insecurities were running deeper than surface-level, and he'd have his fair share of work cut out for him if he wanted to make you feel better.

"Shh, hey, hey, hey. It's okay." He coos softly, removing his hand from your hair to curl it around you to rest it against your sternum. He sits back against the bed and takes you right along with him, planting you on his lap with your back pressed against his chest - with his cock still inside of you. You're grateful for it, since you know you'd just spiral even more if he took it out and left you feeling empty and cold while you were already on the verge of a complete breakdown. "Daddy can help. I'll help you out, sweetheart."

"We can think of things together, my love. It's okay." He murmurs quietly as he wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth slightly as he gently hushes your tears. His thumb comes up to wipe away the fresh tears that slip down your cheeks, and he can feel his heart cracking in two at every little heartbroken whimper and sob that manages to escape your lips.

"What about your pretty eyes, hm? The ones that help you read all of those books, even when it's a little dark? The same eyes Daddy loves to wake up to every morning?"

You blink owlishly through your tears, your hiccups coming to a halt for just a second as you begin to process his words. He's not talking about the color of your eyes or what shape they are, but what they can do. You've been so caught up on how every part of you looked...not what they were actually meant for.

Your eyes aren't supposed to be the prettiest color or the 'perfect' shape. They're job is to help you see. And you can read, and admire the sunset, and cry, and watch TV - and none of it has to do with how your eyes look. They're the same eyes that lock onto John's from across the room and tell him 'it's too much. can we go home?' without ever having to say a word. And he always knows how you're feeling, just from taking one look at your eyes.

"And what about your hair? Don't you like braiding it and putting it up in all those pretty hairstyles? Don't you like how Daddy can play with it when you get all sleepy?" You turn your head around to look at him through your tears, and you take in a shaky breath as you nod your head silently in agreement. "Yeah...I know I like it, sweet girl."

You let out a restrained whimper as his words settle over you, your heart cracking in a way that it never has before - like its rearranging itself to fit the beautiful image of his perception of you. You can feel his hand gently squeeze your arm to silently urge you to continue on your own, and it takes you a minute to think of something before you let out a trembling whisper.

"M-My nose..." You sound uncertain, blinking up at him for validation only to be met with a loving smile and an encouraging nod. "I like my nose."

Your nose was never meant to look like everyone else's. It's just there to help you breathe. To bring oxygen to your blood to keep you alive and healthy. And it helps you smell everything - the bread at the farmers market, John's cologne bottle whenever you missed him too much in his missions, even the gross candles at the store that you force John to smell too just so you can both suffer together. It even crinkles up whenever John presses a kiss to it when you aren't expecting it, which always makes him laugh and makes him press just one more to it to get you to giggle and swat him away.

"Yes...good girl." He praises softly as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder, reverent in both his touch and stare as he tilts your chin back towards the mirror. "Keep looking at yourself, darling."

"And Daddy loves your beautiful smile...you know, that's the first thing I miss when I go away. I keep a little picture of you in my vest just so I can see it even when I'm on my missions. I love seeing my gorgeous girl look so happy." His words coax another watery sob from you, which he quickly soothes by running his hands gently up and down your arms. Eventually he trails them down and circles his hands around yours, using his thumbs to massage gentle circles into your palms as you cast your gaze down to watch. "And your hands...didn't you bake me those cookies last week with these hands?"

"Yes, Daddy." You nod once again, and he brings both of your hands up to wipe at the tears that are dripping off of your cheeks and down to your torso.

Your body let you express your love for him in all the ways you wanted - hugging, kissing, cuddling, crying, laughing, talking, listening, touching - you could go on forever now that you're really thinking about it.

Your body was a vessel for love - a home that could fit all the adoration and affection that John could possibly give you and you could give him - and instead you were using it to house all of the shame everyone else had burdened you with over the years. But John had all the patience in the world, and if he had to pick that shame out piece-by-piece in order to burrow his love inside of you, then that's what he'd do. Happily.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty...such a pretty little girl you are." He punctuates every one of his words with a kiss to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your hair...all until he reaches your ear when he finally whispers, "I'm so lucky to have you, baby."

And you poor thing - now your blubbering in his lap as your brain tries to comprehend the sheer amount of love he's pouring into you, and he just continues to hold you patiently as you work through it. It's only when you finally calm down a bit that he speaks up.

"I think you're so beautiful, my love. Inside and out. But if you look in the mirror and you don't like what you're seeing, for whatever silly reason, I want you to remember that your worth comes from a lot more than how you look. Do you understand, baby?" He waits until you nod your head before he plants a kiss right to the crown of your hair. You can feel his hand settle on your thigh, thumbing the sensitive inner skin as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

"Do you want to keep going?" And then you see it - settled underneath his love and admiration for you is a spark of concern. He doesn't want to push you too hard, especially in a delicate setting like this. His cock is still hard and nestled deep inside of you, but you know if you said the word right now he'd end this all in a heartbeat to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of.

But you don't want him to stop. It feels different this time around - like it's not just sex. It's something more ritualistic than that. So you nod your head once more, making sure to keep your eyes on him in the mirror so he can see how earnest you are.

And slowly, carefully, he readjusts you back into the position you were in before - on your hands and knees facing the mirror. And you can see him watching you closely for any sign of discomfort or regret, but all he's met with is trust in those teary eyes of yours.

"Keep telling me what you like, sweetheart."

And so you do. Clumsy compliments stumbling out of your mouth as he finally starts to rock his hips, granting you the relief you've been craving from him for what feels like forever now. And the more you praise yourself, the more intense his thrusts get - but he never turns rough. Not even for a second. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he whispers his own devotions into your ears, pushing himself as deep as he can as if he's trying to plant the words directly inside of you.

You're so overwhelmed by the love and the pleasure he's giving you that you barely even realize how fast your orgasm is sneaking up on you, but he notices. He can feel you clenching around him as your thighs begin to shake, and he doesn't waste a second in gently guiding your gaze to look at yourself in the mirror once more.

"Are you a pretty girl, baby?" He grunts softly, barely staving off his own release long enough to drive his message home. You begin to nod your head frantically, too caught up in your impending climax to form any coherent sentences as you begin to flutter around him - but he's not having any of it.

"Yeah? Go on, then. Daddy wants to hear you say it."

"I-I'm a..." Your stuttered words are cut off by a deep moan, and your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you clamp down around him. "I'm a p-pretty girl!"

And then you're sent into the most mind-shattering orgasm you've ever had in your life. You can feel yourself gush around him and you hear his restrained curses as you collapse into the bed, but even your own voice sounds muffled as you call out his name with a quivering cry. He fucks you right through it, leaving you trembling and crying from the intensity as he finally spills inside of you with a few tears of his own.

He just barely catches himself before he collapses on top of you, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath before he readjusts to, very carefully, pull himself out of your squelching cunt. He coos gently as you whine at the loss of contact, and he scoops you up like you're a porcelain doll that'll shatter if he's not careful.

You're still so fuzzy from the intensity of it all, but he places you in his lap to let you bury your face in his neck, and his arms quickly wrap around you the second that your trembling form curls up to him like a kitten in a storm.

"There she is." He whispers softly as he kisses your forehead, one hand trailing up and down your back as the other one circles tightly around your shoulders to ground you with his presence. "There you go, sweet girl. Take a deep breath, my love."

He can feel the little puffs of air hitting his neck as he continues to hold you, and it brings him back down to earth as well as he works you through your comedown. Soft whispers of praise graze your ear as he moves to clean you up, keeping his movements soft and careful when he sees your eyes begin to flutter shut.

And you look up at him with so much love and trust when he finally pulls you down to lay back against the pillows, he can't stop himself from taking a moment to brush at the soft skin of your cheek before he presses his lips against yours. It's not hungry or lustful - just pure love being poured into you as he pulls the covers up to cover your bare form.

He pulls back just enough to murmur quietly against your lips, eyes looking down at you with so much reverance it makes your head spin.

"I love you so much, baby."

And you can't help the little wobble in your lips or the glassiness in your eyes as you rest your head against the pillow, pulling him closer with your shaky hands as you plant a little kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too, Daddy."

[everybondyoubreak]

every bond you break

Chapter 1: I'll stick around if you will

pairing: joel miller x female reader

plot summary: You were supposed to leave the past behind when you took Maria's offer to come to Jackson — not get stuck training under Joel Miller’s watchful, unforgiving eye or babysitting Ellie on supply runs. Keeping your distance was the plan. Despite your constant clashing with Joel, there is an obvious attraction between you two, and a few other things revealed along the way that bring you closer together.

warnings: slowburn, seriously, like super slooowburn, mutual pining, blood & gore, tension, competence kink, enemies to friends to lovers, reader is age-appropriate, overprotective joel, eventual smut, eventual romance, found family

AO3

The first weeks in Jackson were peaceful.

You had lived alone in the middle of nowhere for a long time, so any sound of life you heard was something to get used to. This was what having neighbors felt like. At first it startled you a bit, but now you were comfortable enough to get annoyed when they woke you up in the morning.

And people woke up so early here. Your house was close to the center of town, another thing to get used to. There was a dining hall, a daycare, even a bar. People, places, things. It was noisy and new. It was a lot.

This is what you asked for though.

Maria was surprised when you reached out. Well, you didn’t exactly reach out. You came all the way down to Jackson with your two bags fully packed and finally took up her offer.

Your father knew her father before the pandemic. They weren’t close then, but calamity caused the two to join forces. They’d collaborate together, exchanging supplies and directing each other to valuable resources. They were grateful for your father’s support in building their settlement. They even offered your family to join, several times.

Sometime down the line, Maria’s father passed. And soon after so did yours. Around then, Maria asserted that their offer still stands. You cautiously declined, but you got curious.

One thing led to another, and here you were. In this one-story cottage. Sure, the knotty pine paneling was peeling off the wall a bit, but you were determined to make it work. With all the newcomers, they were having trouble refurbishing enough houses quickly and safely. This was the best they could offer with your sudden arrival.

It was already a lot to show up so unannounced, you wanted to be as little of a nuisance as possible.

“You’re sure?” Maria had asked, “I know this is a bit of a downgrade from your old house.” “It’s perfect, seriously.” You insisted.

And it was. The front door had this stained-glass window which let the light scatter in this kaleidoscopic way. The kitchenette had checkered red tiles and a breakfast nook. The living room had a small fireplace along with a window-seat to read in. The house was filled with light and surrounded by sound. The complete opposite of your father’s house.

When you got up to fill your kettle to make some tea, the sink proceeded to collapse in on itself.

Fuck.

-

Maria’s husband, Tommy, came to fix the sink. He had half his body sprawled across your kitchen floor, head under the cupboard, trying to re-install the fixture.

It was surprising to see the life Maria had built here. She had a devoted husband and a baby on the way. On top of it all, she seemed extremely involved with every aspect of Jackson. Despite her extensive involvements, she was still immediately to your aide when you came to her about the sink. She sent Tommy over to help right away.

“So, do you and Maria just do everything around here?” You asked, half-joking.

“You’d think. Maria’s gotten better at delegating though. I was going to send Brian down here but,” He stuck his head out from underneath, “I realized he was the one to install this piece of shit. He did a fuckin’ awful job.”

“I wish I knew anything about plumbing, I would help-” You said, feeling useless, as he stuck his head back under, twisting away. He muttered something telling you to not worry about it. “Well there is this other thing I was going to ask you about,” He said, “Maria says you wanted to start helping out a bit.”

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You were excited to prove your worth. “She said you were a pretty talented artist as a kid, don’t know if…” “I’d be happy to help paint houses, or whatever you need painted around here.”

Tommy laughs at your suggestion, “No, I was thinking more like, teaching the art classes?” You looked out the window above the kitchen sink, out at the scrappy sanctuary ahead, and asked “Do we really need art classes?”

You were surprised, and slightly offended. Weren’t there bigger things to focus on in the community? And why weren’t you allowed to be a part of it?

“We do actually, the schoolteachers have been asking-” “I just don’t think I’m up to the task.” Jesus, you also hadn’t been around a child in what, a decade? You continued, “Maria had mentioned patrols. I’m good at long-range shooting I could really-”

Tommy stuck his head back out from under the sink, “We’re good for patrols right now, really.” The way he said it stung a bit. He could see your hurt and quickly began to explain, “You know, my brother…he just settled down here as well just a few months ago…he’s takin’ up a good amount of the rotations.”

“That’s just one guy though, I’m just saying if you need alternates or-”

Tommy wiped a bead of sweat from his raised brows and continued working, “Then we will let you know. But for now, we are good.”

He worked at the sink in silence for a few more minutes. When he was finished, you thanked him and asked, “Do you want a glass of water? I would’ve offered earlier but, you know…”

Tommy laughed, “I’m fine. Just let me know if you have any more problems with this thing.”

You nodded and kept your arms crossed. There was a confusing twist of gratitude and obligation growing inside you. Tommy and Maria were going above and beyond to get you settled here and you provided nothing.

As if reading your mind, he spoke your name and explained, “People want to live life here. They want to enjoy and create. I know you don’t think art and that stuff is important but here it matters. Really.”

“Thank you, Tommy. I think it’s just a big ask for right now. I also haven’t painted or drawn like that in years…” You stood up straighter, “I’m better at surviving for now, just let me stick to what I know.” “Alright, alright, that’s fair.”

He stuck his hands in his pocket, as if searching around for an idea in there until he came up with something. He settled on just saying, “Let me talk to Maria.”

-

Much to your dismay, you had ran out of your own food at home and needed to retreat to the dining hall for dinner. The dining hall was overwhelming in its quantities. The amount of food it offered. The number of people milling about in there at all times. You liked to keep your visits there quick.  

But as you opened your door to head out, you could spot Maria walking in the direction towards your house.

You held your breath and nervously walked out to meet her, giving a small wave to politely welcome her over. She stopped in front of the short white picket fence that surrounded your house.

“I don’t think pregnant women should be walking as much as you do.” You mentioned, gesturing to her pregnant belly. She smiled, “You’re on the way over into town. I came by to check on things.”

You nodded and crossed your arms, “Things are good."

“The sink working now?” She asked, eyes narrowing. Maria was always kind to you, but she had an interrogatory way about her.

“Yes, thank you.”

Now she stayed quiet, and you kept talking, “It really wasn’t that much of an emergency. You didn’t need to have Tommy do that right away-” Why were you so nervous? You were obviously telling the truth.

“We just want to make sure you’re alright here.” She said, hand resting on her swollen stomach. The care and attention Maria provided so readily put you on edge. Maybe you were waiting for a price to be given. People don’t care like that for free. She must’ve felt that she owed something to your father.

“I’m fine, I feel like you guys think I can’t handle myself.” The words felt sticky on your tongue coming out.

Maria sighed, “I know you can handle yourself, that’s the problem.” You looked up at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’ve been alone for a decade on top of that mountain. I know you want to be part of a community and I trust you’ll be fine,” Maria looked around at the other townspeople walking by, “It just takes people a lot of adjusting here to get back to what life was like before.”

“Is that why you’re hellbent on me doing art therapy or whatever?” “I was just spitting ideas to Tommy. It helps to have something to do here besides survive.” “Let me help you guys. It’s the least I can do, let me earn my keep.”

She put her hands on her hips, “Alright. We’re doing supply runs this week and they’re training one of the other newcomers here. You want in?”

Better than nothing. “Sure.”

“Perfect, I’ll have Tommy tell Will you’re joining tomorrow’s run then.”

-

What Tommy and Maria failed to mention was the age group of the crew. When you arrived to the meet-up, the sun was barely making an appearance. However, you were still the last to show up because you walked past the group a few times at first. You had mistakenly thought it was some school field trip gathering by the gate.

The “adult” of the group called out your name. You approached cautiously with your horse trotting behind you.

“That’s you right? The newest newbie of the crew?” You nodded in response, he stuck out his hand, “I’m Will.”

Will couldn’t have been older than 26 years old. He was stocky and had dirty-blonde hair that skirted the top of his eyes. He was growing out what looked to be a mustache on top of his lip. His horse matched his demeanor, down to the hair color. Well, minus the mustache. You leaned out to shake his hand and peer at the motley crew of juveniles he was leading.

It was three kids. Teenagers to use the proper term. One of them was a small, freckled girl with reddish hair tied messily in a loose ponytail. She looked spry but restrained, like a jack-in the box. One wrong turn and she’d spring at you. The rest of the crew was a pair of teenage boys, looking to be around 16 or 17. The taller one had brown, curly hair, and seemed a bit skittish. The shorter one was a bit more muscular, with a buzzcut faded by red hair. You could tell from his smirk he was gonna be a pain in the ass.

Will pointed at the freckled girl, “I’m gonna have you paired up with Ellie. She just started a few weeks ago so she can show you a bit of what she’s learned so far.”

The two of you glanced at each other, you shrugged and led your horse to stand beside hers.

“Careful,” Buzzcut boy leaned over to you with a grin and loudly pretended to whisper, “She’s a handful. Her last buddy just quit runs because she was such a-”

“Shut the fuck up, Dylan” Ellie snapped. The boy sneered, “It’s Devin. My name is Devin.”

“Like I care,” Ellie growled back, “I have some other names I’d like to call you instead-” You kept your head down, but a small laugh slipped out of you. The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at your amusement.

“Alright!” Will shushed you all, “Enough. We only have so many hours of daylight to use. We’re heading east today. Patrols this week haven’t had any sightings of raiders or infected but still, no messing around.” He said this looking directly at Ellie. She rolled her eyes.

Will continued, “It’s a long ride to Wilson Valley. During this time, I want you to think about inventory. Things we need. Do we remember the acronym?”

The teens all nodded in unison but stayed silent. Will looked around, “Any of you gonna recite it for the newbie? Greg, you try.”

Greg, the lanky, quieter one, recited carefully, “Yeah, uh, we’re looking for items that are S-A-F-E.”

“Do you remember what that stands for—”

“Supplies, ammo, fire-starters, and electronics.” Ellie interjected, counting off each word on her fingers.

Will sighed, “Right, whatever, let’s just get going.”

-

The first hour riding to Wilson Valley was quiet. Will stayed a few paces behind to keep an eye on the group. You and Ellie rode side-by-side in silence, a few paces behind Greg and Devin who led the way.

Eventually, Ellie began the conversation , “Not to be rude,” You braced yourself as she asked, “But how old are you exactly?”

You dodged an incoming tree branch before answering, “It’s hard to keep track. What year is it again?”

“2034.”

You quickly did the math in your head and said the answer aloud. Ellie whistled, “Oh wow, so you’re like, actually kind of old.”

“Kind of old?” You repeated in disgust, “I’m not old.”

She smiled devilishly, “You’re older than Will, and Will is pretty old. He’s like, twenty-four.”

“Ellie, isn’t your dad like 200 years old?” Devin jeered from up front. Ellie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, and Joel could still kick your ass any day of the week, dipshit.”

You laughed and asked, “So if your dad is 200 years old, then how old are you, pipsqueak?”

“Fifteen.” Ellie answered quickly, “And Joel’s not my dad he’s—” She paused to figure out the wording. Her shoulders tensed up.

“I get it.” You said, leaving it at that. In the far distance, you could hear a mourning dove call out, softening the sudden silence between you two.

Will led the group down one more long, scraggly road, before finally arriving at what looked to be a scattered arrangement of abandoned cabins. A worn-down sign stood solemnly in the midst of the buildings. “Jackson Hole Bible College” You read under your breath.

Greg and Devin went off to what looked to be the campus’s old library. Will directed you and Ellie to take the largest cabin on the far left and search for items to grab.

When you entered the place, it looked to be a cafeteria. Or what used to be a cafeteria. Tables were flipped over, some chairs snapped in half, trays of disintegrated food and silverware abandoned mid-meal. On the front wall, there was a giant calendar boasting a time from over two decades ago. A flyer advertising tutoring services was still pinned up, a few strips of paper dangling out a phone number that no longer existed.

The place seemed eerily untouched in some parts of the room and then completely ravaged the next. Rows of coffee mugs sat peacefully on one shelf. In contrast, the shelf beneath it consisted of only shattered glassware.

It was odd how time behaved now. Destruction and decay weren’t as consistent as you’d think. Of course, most places and things had been completely ravaged as years passed. Yet some things stayed untouched, devoid of any evidence of worth or affection. You couldn’t decide which was worse.

“So, SAFE.” You recited as you scanned the room, “Supplies…”

“Yeah, you know, food, water, medicine…” Ellie began to list out as she rummaged through one of the rickety cabinets hanging off the wall.

“Coffee?” You held up a yellow can of Cafe Bustelo, shaking the contents at her playfully. Ellie’s eyes widened, “Wait, really? Let me see that.”

“You a big coffee person?” “No, but Joel is.” Ellie said, shoving the can into her backpack and zipping it tightly. She looked around, “Don’t tell Will or them. They want us to share all of what we find…but some things,” She smiled, “We can keep for ourselves.”

You nodded along, “I like the way you think.” As you rummaged around more, you found some cans of tuna, an opened bottle of honey, and other non-perishable treasures. Across the room, you saw Ellie head towards a long, thin door by the kitchen. A few minutes passed, and you could hear her loudly cursing at something.

“What’s up?” You yelled over to her, to which she grunted, “This door…it’s fucking locked!” “Hang on…” As you made your way over, you swiftly pulled a pick from your back pocket. You swatted her aside and began to dig into the keyhole, feeling around for the pins that kept it shut.

After a few seconds of shimmying it around, the lock clicked open. Ellie raised her eyebrows,“Impressive.”

It was still dark inside the now unlocked room, but you could faintly see stacks of food lined across the wall. Excitedly, you reached for the light switch, flicking it on to reveal a pair of bare feet dangling in front of you. Your heart shot up into your throat. Horrified at the sight, and the stench, of the body hanging mid-air. Miraculously, you kept quiet. There was a swollen red ring around the dead man’s left foot. The bite marks around it were a bubbly, bright red.

“Oh…” Ellie said lowly, but began to make her way inside to scavenge around the body. Without hesitation, you latched onto her shoulder to pull her back and hissed, “Careful!”

“Why? The guy’s obviously dead—” “He might be dormant…”

On cue, the feet began to wiggle and move in the air. The rest of the body began convulsing and sputtering as it dangled in the air, screeching to free itself from the noose. Ellie stumbled back, “Oh fuck!”

You shoved Ellie behind you, reached for your pistol and immediately shot up at the body, blasting it directly in the neck. The body snapped off from the head and hit the ground with a back-to-back thud. The two of you stared in disgust at the remains. The now severed head laid on its side, looking like shredded cabbage from the blow.

“Fuckin’ disgusting…” Ellie whispered.

“HEY!” Will’s voice came booming in from behind, “The hell is going on? Why did I hear a gunshot-”

Will stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of you both. The beheaded infected behind you. The pistol in your hand. Ellie laying on the floor.

Will’s frustrated face was now overcome by concern, “What happened, are you two okay?”

You nodded, “I’m fine. Ellie…” You reached down to pull her up. She ignored your hand, pushing herself up on her own, “We’re fine, Will.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Will intently, “Do not tell Joel this, by the way.”

“Ellie, I don’t know-”

What was with this Joel guy she kept talking about?

“Do not say anything Will, because nothing happened.”  “I can’t make any promises, Ellie. I won’t say anything but if him or Tommy asks…”

“Let’s just keep looking around in here.” You interjected, “Looks like this guy had stashed himself away with some good stuff.” The two of them nodded and followed you in to carefully collect more supplies.

-

The ride back was oddly tense. You could see Ellie in the corner of your eye mulling things over. A part of you felt for sorry for her. You understood how she felt in some way. Even if Joel wasn’t her father, she was clearly entangled with the man in some way. His stress was her stress. His joy was her joy.

“Hey,” You leaned over to her, snapping her out of her spiral, “I found an extra can of coffee in the pantry back there. Folgers…you can have it.” She looked up at you and gave a small smile, “Really?” “Really, I don’t need it. You should give it to your, uh... Joel.”

She nodded. As you two continued riding, she spoke up, “Joel’s not my dad but we came here together. From the Boston QZ.” “Oh.” “He’s a good guy, he’s just overprotective. Especially right now, he has his brother Tommy on my back too.” Oh. This was Tommy’s brother.

“It sounds like you have a lot of people looking out for you,” You said, “That’s hard to come by.” The air felt colder as a gust of wind traced across the back of your exposed neck.

“And you just moved here too?” Ellie asked. You nodded, knowing she probably wanted more of a response than that. “I lived alone for a while, a couple hours from here.”

“Why’d you come here then?” “I got tired of myself…or being by myself” You were being honest at least, “I’ve known Maria for some time and she always offered me a place to stay here. So I finally moved out here.”

“And look at you now,” Ellie chirped, “Hanging with a bunch of teenagers, scavenging for canned food with me, Greg, and Dylan here—”

“It’s Devin!” He called back.

“Like I care…” Ellie grumbled to herself. She reverted her attention back to you, “What did you mean back there by ‘dormant’?”

“Huh?” “Dormant,” Ellie repeated, “You said that infected guy was dormant back there.”

You looked back at her, seeing the genuine intrigue in her eyes. “Uh, in altitudes like this, especially in rooms with little to no light, the symptoms of infection slows down in some bodies. It’s a lot more subtle. And stubborn. More stubborn than usual.”

Ellie squinted her eyes, “I thought dead people couldn’t get infected.”

You pointed up at your head, “There’s still a body and a brain to work with, so it can still take over.”

“So he wasn’t dead?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted, “I think they’re still alive in there, just at complete loss of their bodies. That’s why you’re better off shooting yourself in the head when you get bit. Leave the cordyceps nothing to work with.” You felt your throat tighten at the thought.

Ellie nodded, taking the information in, “How exactly do you know all this?”

“Trial and error, I guess.”

Ellie let out a small “Hmph” in response and began riding ahead of you with no further questions. Good enough of an answer for her, thank goodness.

-

When you got back to Jackson, Will guided the group to the church hall to drop off the gathered supplies. Once that was over with, you all went down to the gate by the stables.

There was a small group of people eagerly waiting by the south gate. You all slipped off your horses and began to walk in their direction. Devin and Greg made their way to a pair of older couples standing together, presumably their parents.

You stuck by Ellie’s side, knowing she was going to ditch you any moment for her parental figure. The contrast of the surrounding adults versus your place with the group of children brought a wave of infantilization over you. Why did Tommy and Maria put you in this kiddie group?

You could clearly hold your own. You shook off the infected earlier with ease. You had no trouble finding useful items for the supply run. And yet, the hardest thing that happened all day seemed to be this. Watching the happy families reunite and walk off together. You thought you had grown past this forgotten feeling but it was still there. A slow, steady pulse in the pit of your stomach.

Surprisingly, Maria was there in the crowd. Tommy seemed to have tagged along as well. Maria had one hand on her swollen belly, her other hand in the air waving at you. Tommy yelled out your name and gave a smile. You gave the couple a quick thumbs up, hoping that was sufficient for a conversation.

You needed to talk to Maria alone later. You couldn’t deal with being around kids and families like this. There had to be some loners like yourself to work with. Where you could just get shit done and call it a night.

There was another individual standing in the crowd close to Tommy. He was taller and older.

This clearly must be Tommy's brother Joel. He closely resembled Tommy, but he had a certain intensity emanating from him. He had a few more lines on his forehead, and hair that was borderline silver that framed his tense, defined face. With his broad stance and stern expression, he looked impenetrable. Once his dark eyes flicked over you, a rush of heat spread across your face. You raised your hand to deflect his stare, nervously running your fingers through your hair to keep subtle.

He was handsome. Intimidating, but handsome. Those two traits dangerously entwined.

When his eyes went over to the young girl next to you, his gaze immediately softened. He gave a small smile and nod to Ellie.

“Come over here you two!” Tommy called out. You looked behind yourself, sure that Tommy must be yelling to someone else. He laughed and called your name once more for reassurance. You made your way over with Ellie. Your hands holding tightly onto the reins of your horse.

“How’d it go?” Maria asked you. You could feel Ellie’s eyes on you, nervous that you’d mention the slight scare earlier that day.

“Great,” You answered, “I had a good time with the kiddie group today.” Maria raised her eyebrows in bemusement.

“Hey!” Ellie yelped, pretending to be offended. Tommy gestured to Ellie and asked you directly, “Now, how’d she do?”

“She was great.” You felt another pair of eyes holding onto you firmly. Tommy’s brother stood by silently, eyeing you up and down. You looked back at him, waiting for him to chime in. But he kept quiet.

Tommy laughed, “Seriously? I don’t believe you two.” He gave you a wink to indicate that he was partially playing around. “Let me ask Will, hey Will!”

You and Ellie shot a brief, panicked, look at each other. Will nervously scuttled over to the five of you.

“How’d everything go today, Will?” Will gulped and began to talk, “Uh, good. We did find some-”

Your mind scrambled to come up with a conversational diversion. Your hands sprang into your bag, pulling out a red metal tin, “We got you some coffee!” You blurted out, staring up at Joel.

Everyone stopped talking and stared at the sudden interaction. Joel’s eyes landed back on you. For the briefest moment, they looked surprisingly tender. A second later, his expression immediately tensed up again. His eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

You felt your cheeks begin to redden. Why, of all the distractions, was that the one you decided to go with?

“We found you coffee. Your…um, Ellie had mentioned you were looking for some.”

He looked at the others, as if wondering if they were putting him up to something. “So…is that all you found for the group?” He barked.

Yes, he made you nervous, but he didn’t make you amenable.

Your defensiveness swept in, clearing out any shame completely. You glared up at him, “No, I actually found some other items. Just trying to be nice, not an idiot.” Tommy gave a small laugh to try to keep the peace.

You could hear Will chattering to Maria from the side about you, “She really was a big help…you know normally I’d ask her to share those grounds with the kitchen but-”

“Joel, say thanks.” Ellie said lowly.

You eased up and extended the Folger’s can out to him. Holding your makeshift olive branch with both hands. He reached out. As he grabbed the can, his thumb grazed your top finger ever so slightly. You looked down at the ground to steady yourself and heard him mutter out a lowly, “Thanks.”

“Well, okay,” Tommy said, “Let’s walk the horses back to the stables and call it a night, yeah?”

You nodded, staying behind to let Ellie, Joel, and Tommy walk ahead of you. Will gave you a wave and headed off in another direction. Maria stayed by your side, and the two of you started slowly walking.

“So how was it, actually?” She said quietly to you. You looked over at her, perplexed, “It was fine, really.”

“You seem annoyed with something.” “Why’d you put me in the kid’s group?” You finally asked, then lowered your voice again, “I’m a little too old for this group, don’t you think?”

Maria sighed and crossed her arms, staring ahead at Joel and Ellie. “I thought you two would make a good match.”

You kept your eyes ahead, watching as Ellie pulled out her own tin of coffee to gift to Joel. You could see him laugh and place his hand delicately on Ellie’s shoulder, guiding her into the stables. For a brief moment, he looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with you before disappearing into the stalls.

You and Maria had stopped in place further away to keep talking out of their earshot. You snapped your focus back onto the conversation at hand. “What do you mean?”

She guided you over to the fence surrounding the stable, “Ellie was paired up with a girl her age but the two got into some shit. We’ve dealt with kids similar to this before. I think she needs someone like you to work with.” You leaned against the fence and cocked your head to the side, “Really, someone like me?”

“She works better with certain people. Someone like Joel, someone like you…” “Shit, am I like Joel?” You snapped. “No one is like Joel.” Maria replied.

“Thank God.” You huffed. A corner of Maria’s mouth raised in amusement.

Maria put a hand on your shoulder, “I want people here that I can trust to uphold this community.” She looked into your eyes, “I trust you. And I trust Joel is what my husband says he is,” Her head bowed, “But I think there are some things he just can’t move past from.”

Then she added, “I think Ellie needs to see how other people are adjusting to things. How people move on and make a life here, like you have.”

You felt your jaw tense. How bold of Maria to assume such a thing.

“Why me though? Why not someone that’s lived here longer? I just got here too. ”

“She reminds me of you,” Maria finally said, “The way you were back then, with your dad.”

This came as a second blow. You looked away from Maria, mentally rummaging for some sly comment to throw back at her. But it never came. You kept your gaze somewhere far off, looking past the stables, far out as the sun melted into the mountains over Jackson.

A voice came out of you, unusually soft, “I can take her under my wing for a little bit.”

[towasdandelion]

How would mortkranken and obscurary handle b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶u̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶s̶p̶o̶r̶t̶ dealing with mc during ovulation week

Okay I do hope I'm reading this correctly cause otherwise this is going to be a lil awkward hehe. I see we're in for another spicy series (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ Let's just say ovulation is scary. Anyways I hope you'll like this!

Mortkranken and Obscuary ghouls "dealing" with you while you're ovulating

warning: nsfw ahead

Jiro follows your cycle closely. Not just because of health. He just genuinely finds it interesting to observe the subtle changes in you. And let's just say he doesn't mind it in the slightest when that time comes. He's usually pretty touchy with you on daily basis so yeah. You can do whatever you want, his patience won't run out even if you ask him to come over again. He loves the fact that he can fuck you much more often since his own needs are pretty high. You can see a small satisfied smile on his face, upon seeing your blissful expression. But.. he's going to fuck you one more time, just to be sure.

Yuri also follows your cycle, but for health reasons purely. Or so it seems. He also does it to make sure he's prepared for when that time comes. He's pretty embarrassed. He knows it's in your nature, but still. Seeing you like this is too much for him. And now he's a bit conflicted.. because obviously he doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied. Will literally have to prepare himself mentally though. He's actually on the verge on losing his mind when he hears his name fall from your lips every time he thrusts into you. And as your lashes flutter as you get lost in the pleasure.. he knows he's gone, as much as he hates to admit it. A part of him is utterly fascinated when you're horny.

Ed. Case closed. But seriously, I don't think I need to say anything here. He loves it. He enjoys your "suffering" thoroughly. And of course, he's always there to satisfy you. Not like he leaves his room anyways. Won't be able to hold back from teasing you though. You always berate him whenever he's the one being horny 24/7, so consider this a little payback. But before your get too angry he's already going to have you sprawled on his bed underneath him, writhing in pleasure. There's nothing he loves more than seeing you happy. Doesn't matter if the happiness comes from having your brains fucked out or by cuddling. Same thing to him.

Rui also doesn't mind when you're needy like that. Though 'doesnt mind' is an understatement. He's takes a full advantage of it. He'd never shy away from providing you some pleasure. And the more, the better. Seeing you horny makes him horny as well so good luck leaving the bed I guess? Whatever you want - you'll get it. You want him to be gentle and whisper sweet words into your ear? You got it. You want him to fuck you so hard you're seeing stars? No questions asked he's doing it. But it doesn't end there. You can ask for anything really. A cuddling session in the middle of the day, or some spicy pictures from him. He's doing it all for you. He's doing everything he can and more to keep his girl happy.

Lyca might not know exactly how it works yet, but he'll connect the dots eventually, thanks to the fact he can sense your scent change a few times every month. And he definitely did notice it affects him as well. He probably is going to try stay away from you in the beginning. Your scent, even though subtle - will drive him insane and make him wish he could just take you here and now. Wait, that's what you want too? Then you better take him to your bedroom before he starts humping you in public.. Well, he doesn't have to worry about anything, now that it's behind the closed doors. You're up for some intense sex that will take your breath away.

[mulloey]

hi, love! congrats on 2k! can we get 113 + 130 + 321 with junhui? 🤭

pretty dumb

bimbofication/objectification + daddy kink + “that’s what i thought”

daddy!jun x sub!reader, condescending dom jun, degradation, dumbification etc

park of my 2k event.

“Not so smart now, are you?”

His lips are curled, sneering, eyes sharp. You wriggle a little more underneath him—just enough to make your displeasure known without provoking him into actual anger; no, that’s the opposite of what you want now. You want him irritated, challenged, itching to put you back in your place—you want him like this.

On top. In control. Unquestioned authority, no matter how much you pretend otherwise.

He slides his leg forward, knee pressed up against your clothed pussy, legs held open by his strong thigh. Arms on either side of your head, weight resting on the couch cushion; caging you in. Just as you like it. “You think you know everything,” he says, “think you’re such a smart little girl who knows the answer to everything. But you don’t, do you?”

“Shut up,” you grunt.

On another day, that would get you slapped square across the face; a red mark on the pretty cheeks he instead caresses like soft fur; fragile porcelain about to crack.

Fuck, do you always break so beautifully. So slowly and tenderly like it’s what you were made to do.

“Poor girl,” he coos. “You still don’t get it, huh? It doesn’t matter how smart you are, or how independent you are. Not with me. With me you’re a toy, and you’re treated like one. That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

You open your mouth, ready to bite back; before you can he takes his chance and shoves three thick, sticky fingers into your mouth, pushing to the back of your throat until you gag. “There we go,” he grunts. “That’s better. You don’t need to talk, just listen to daddy, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna set you right.”

Your eyes are brimming now, tears welling from the pressure in your throat; he watches you for a moment, taking you in, and sighs almost dreamily. Like you’re a trillion fantasies come to life. “Pretty girl,” he says. “This is what you’re meant for, baby. To spread your legs and go dumb on my cock. You want that?”

You nod, desperately, dumbly, and his smile widens. “Good girl,” he praises. “Let’s get you nice and full so you can stop your squirming, yeah? Little cockslut needs her cunt stuffed to keep her calm.”

His other hand moves to his sweatpants, making quick work to pull out his dick. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of it, thick and bulging and leaking from the tip and it only makes him more smug; more determined to ruin you. “Yeah,” he grins. “I saw that, stupid girl. All that spark disappearing as soon as you’ve got a cock in your sights, that’s what I thought.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, now coated in your saliva and the slick from earlier, when he’d pinned you against the door and stuffed them in your cunt before dragging you over to the couch. His dick lines up with your entrance, pulsing with need—you both are. His lips quirk. “Beg for it.”

“Please,” you grunt. “Please, daddy, I need it.”

“Exactly what I thought.” He pushes in slowly, a torturous pace you know is meant to make you more desperate. “Act however you like, pretend however you like, but in the end you’re just a stupid little bimbo who craves to go stupid on my cock. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. He’s almost all the way in, but not quite; after your attitude today you know it won’t be that easy.

“Say it,” he demands. “Tell me what you are. Use those words you love running your little mouth with so much.”

“I’m a stupid bimbo,” you breathe. “I crave to go-ah, go stupid on your cock.”

“On whose cock?” He asks. “Say it and I’ll fuck you how you’ve been wanting.”

“On daddy,” you mumble. “Daddy’s cock.”

“Good,” he smiles. “That’s a good little baby. Hold on tight.”

—

[thatstormygeek]

I really disliked Idiocracy the first time I saw it. It was so mean-spirited and awful about the wrong things and I couldn't get past that to care what else it might be saying.

For some reason, years later, I agreed to watch it again with some friends. My reluctance meant I missed the beginning - Joe was already in the future by the time I showed up. And it was so much better that time around. It's still the same crude humor, but it's much easier to see that the targets aren't the "idiots" (well, not just the "idiots").

[I guess I should give a spoiler warning here, tho this movie is sooo old]

The people Joe runs into in his bumbling quest are laughably ignorant, yes, but they are just people, too. They ultimately care about the same things Joe and Rita and every one else do; they have been and continue to be failed by their systems.

They don't put Brawndo on their plants because they want the plants to die; they are poisoning their plants because of a corporate ad campaign run amok. They think you give plants Brawndo because they have been told plants thrive on Brawndo because the Brawndo execs wanted to sell more product and their government didn't do its job.

And seeing people who cannot do their jobs without a computer telling them what to think hits VERY different in the era of LLMs/genAI. Not in a "haha, look at this dumbass who can't do the simplest thing!" way (which, if I'm being honest, is more likely the way it was originally meant), but in a "holy shit it's scary how quickly everything devolves when critical thinking is no longer valued" way. Then again, the fact that the medical doctor operates identically to the other professions makes me less confident in my assertion of the original intentions.

More than once in recent months (though not that much more), I have found myself commenting on someone's post saying Trump is our President Camacho. While both are showmen (I guess. I feel like that's giving Trump too much credit. but people insist he is.), Camacho fucking cares about his people. He sees Joe as a resource and immediately puts him to work to save the damn crops. Trump, otoh, hates the very idea of a United States of America and only gives anything approaching a shit for anyone he thinks can enrich himself. Not the same.

*ahem*

Despite what I just said, I wouldn't even consider myself a fan of the movie. I sure as hell wouldn't have imagined I had this much to say about it. But for anyone who would like to watch it for some reason and is (fucking very understandably) put off by the "stupid people breeding" framing, I'd suggest just...skipping? the very beginning (and the very end - they felt the need to revisit the concept to bookend the damn thing). You won't miss anything of value. Though the movie itself is still full of gross-out toilet humor and problematic tropes. But that's what plants crave.

Idiocracy is kind of bad in its messaging because it ends up being kind of implicitly pro-eugenics but even setting that aside its political message is just kind of silly. It's of course understandable why it's become such a core part of US liberal discourse, because it allows them to pretend that like. The only reason the Bad Party is in power is because of some nebulous anti-intellectualism infecting the US. It gives them a good way to externalize the issue. Actually, the reason the Good Party isn't in power is because the electorate is bad and stupid.

Anyway this was brought to you by the fact that I saw mention of a Cracked article that compared Hulk Hogan's appearance at some Republican event to Idiocracy and I felt a sudden wash of nostalgia as I was transported back into the Bush presidency.

[rhisturn]

dare i say, this is getting a bit ridiculous now.

the no video after tour was enough tbh, if you think about it from the other way around, people, including myself, paid thousands of dollars/pounds to be at tour, travelled 16 hours in my case, and then we couldn’t even get a vid.. i completely understand in that case they needed to rest, but wasn’t it like 2 whole weeks since tour ended at that point.

but what’s the excuse now, this isn’t the first time in the past couple months they’ve done this either. the stalking situation cannot be used as reasoning either because matt especially has been the most active he’s been in months this past week, and if that was the issue they would have gone completely silent. if they were to have been silent all week, and not post today because of the situation. i would have 100% understood, i’m sure we all would. but that hasn’t been the case

i get nervous saying this shit because people lick their arses so bad in this fandom. like i love them so much, but it’s okay to call them out. they’ve one ‘public’ obligation a week, to post a 20 minute video on a friday at 2:30. that’s it. they don’t do anything else anymore. it’s not like we’re getting hours of twitch streams, wednesday videos, podcasts or anything. one video is all they gotta do. bare in mind it pays their rent, is their source of income, is the reason they are where they are. like how are we struggling with ts.

of course it’s also okay to be late with things, it happens. but again, this is their job. haven’t they been doing this long enough for this to be a non existent problem anymore. schedule videos if you know your gonna be busy or if there’s a chance your gonna miss a post. but the thing that bothers me if the lack of communication, being almost an hour late at this point is one thing, but for there to also be complete radio silence, is ridiculous. if your running late or even if you aren’t gonna post. it takes a second to tell us. they’ve got no communication skills with us anymore

i understand not wanting to talk to us like they used to, especially after the past week. but it’s still, again, their fucking job to do this shit. i feel like it’s not a lot to expect. this is probaly at this point the most hate they’ve ever gotten in their career with the ‘their falling off’ and ‘their gonna quit soon’ shit, so if that isn’t the case wouldn’t you go out of the way to improve your content and do the absolute most to ensure people stop talking. not to make it worse, again.

i feel like it this point it’s starting to piss everyone off. at the end of the day, their 21 year old men and this is their only job. when they do stuff wrong, we don’t have to baby them and act like the lack of accountability or communication is okay. in their line of work, that is quite literally their only responsibility. and even amongst everything going on with the hate at the minute. they clearly still don’t care.

this obviously isn’t just about not posting today, cs that would be slightly dramatic lol. but this has been a problem for months and months. even before tour. there’s no excuses anymore.

edit:

well chris has just posted a pic on instagram and nick is liking posts so clearly their all fine and there’s nothing wrong for all the people using that as an excuse. they just don’t even have the decency to tell us anymore, love this dynamic we’ve got going on with them now. 10/10 communication

don’t rip me to shreds please and thanks :)