#any excuse to bring this up is a good excuse

[luminni]

Most desperate things the 141 boys have done for sex because I can't stop thinking about it <3

(sorry for this being a 3rd repost, I had an account called Lumi_bunsblog but that one got deleted for some reason so this is the new one now ig lol)

John's begged for it. I mean on his hands and knees begging for a taste. I know this man is an avid pussy pronoun user too. He has been on his knees in front of you as you sit pretty on his couch, trailing kisses up your soft belly to your tits and then back down to your thighs.

"C'mon sweet girl lemme' 'ave a taste of 'er yeah? Know she fuckin' needs me hm? Just look at tha'" as he runs a thumb of the wetness that's seeped through you thin panties, just waiting for you to say the words and let him tear them off.

He knows if anybody else in the 141 or if any of his fellow soldiers could see him now, the Captain Price practically drooling over you and sweet talking your cunt like it could hear him they would have a fit. But he couldn't care less because you looked so fucking good right now so "just let 'er 'ave what she wants alright sweet thing?"

I just know Kyle has spent 70% of his last month's pay check on hotel room because the 5 star pent house suite was the only hotel room in your area left available during the holidays. He played it cool with an arm around your waist assuring you it was fine, acting like this was the room he wanted to get, not the one he was forced to have. But if he was being forced to do anything thank god it was spoiling you.

"Don't worry 'bout it love. Just make 'urself comfortable" He'll say in a sultry sweet tone, planting kisses up the side of your neck before excusing himself to the lavish bathroom to check his bank account. He had to make sure he still had enough to buy you a nice breakfast in the morning.

And you're already layed out so pretty for him on the bed so he's not complaining about anything. Especially not the mirror situated on the ceiling right above the bed. Oh and don't you dare suggest splitting the cost, "just split your legs for me hun, 's all ya need to do"

Johnny is eager, like so so eager. When a passionate make out session on your couch got even more heated than either of you had previously expected and he now had his fingers playing with the waistband of your skirt, letting his cold finger tips splay themselves just below. When he got to the hem of your panties and began to hook a finger into the lace you had to stop him,

"Johnny"

"Yea?" He was breathless, chasing your lips when you pulled away to talk. You almost felt bad for separating but if he was going to touch you, there was one request you needed to make. You had felt his nails drag across your thighs moments earlier, it felt wonderful but they were...a little long.

"Do ya nae want this hen?" He'd ask, looking at you like you were a piece of art. Pleading with his eyes, shining like they'd spill tears if you said yes.

"No, no I want this, I want you so so much. It's just..." you trailed off

"Tell me what's wrong bonnie and I'll fix it, yeah?" his hands kept you grounded to his lap either a soft grip on you ass.

"It's just- you're nails, they're a little long" your request was nothing more than whisper.

'Oh' Johnny knew he probably should have just asked for clippers, but you felt so damn good on his lap. He could feel your warm cunt through the zipper of his jeans and with your tits brushing against his chest he couldn't bring himself to move.

You watched in shock as he just began to just tear his nails off with his teeth. Without a second thought his pointer and middle finger nails were bit off to the skin. He paused and looked at his right hand before ripping off the index finger as well.

"Johnny what's gotten into you-?"

But he's already got his hands back down your skirt. Soft finger tips slipping between your folds. "Feel better now eh?" And when you just nuzzled your nose into his neck and let out a little whimper he chuckled "I'll take tha' as a yes"

Simon swallows his pride for the first time in his life for a chance at hitting it raw. You tell him it's okay to not use protection, that you're on birth control. But you needed to make sure that he didn't have any stds seeing as they're even more of a pain when you're on birth control. Not that you don't trust him you just want to make sure and it's not a problem for him seeing as he has to get tested every other week being in the military.

He doesn't, however, have his records on him at the moment and with a girl already lying in his bed telling him he can cum inside. Plus a raging hard on, he doesn't exactly feel like running back to base to get the paper work. So...next best thing.

"Price-"

"Rare for ya to call on leave Simon, whatchya need?" Price responds, his voice cracking through the face time call, a cigar dangling from his lips.

"Sir I need..." he looks back at you, your eyes expectant and shining. You wanted him and he wasn't going to fuck this up. "Can you send me a picture of my last med check results?" He rushes out the last part, elbow on his knee and hand dragging over his face.

Price quirks one eyebrow but doesn't look like he's going to ask any questions. Unlucky for Simon though, Johnny was also in the room. His voice distantly coming through the phone,

"The feck ya need those for l.t.?" He questioned

Simon just groaned, soap's addition to this call just made it even more frustrating. But he snapped out of his frustration at the sound of price opening his file cabinet. "What part?" Price asked, dismissing Johnny with a wave of his hand.

"The-" Simon began, this was fucking embarrassing but when he looked back to you, now perched on your hands and knees, the plush of you hips resting on your ankles, he'd do anything at this point. "STD results." He responded plainly.

"Aye! No fuckin' way mate!" The sound of a chair scraping the floor could be heard as Johnny began to clammer over to his captain who pulled the sheet from his files.

"Ya didn't tell me he was in the room" Simon growled

"Ya didn't ask" Price droned

Johnny's head popped into frame "show me what she looks like ey l.t?"

"Not happening" Simon deadpanned

"Aw c'monnnn" The sergeant whined "just proud of you for finally getting some action!"

"Enough." Simon could see you biting your lip to stifle a laugh out of the corner of his eyes, a curious look in your eyes at his reddened face.

"Sent a picture to ya Simon" Price huffed, letting Johnny give him one last "good luck!" Before hanging up the phone.

You were a mess of giggles as he just shook his head and shoved the phone results in your face for you to look at. "See. Clean."

"Okay okay" you giggled, finally letting his form eclipse you back onto the pillows

"Went through a hell of a lot of trouble for ya, sweet girl" he whispered, nipping at the shell of your ear.

"I'll make it worth it" you said, kissing the corner of his lip and tangling your fingers in the back of his hair

"Christ woman" he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at your promise, "gunna' be the death a' me"

[miyakiwiii]

GUESS NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU HOW TO BE A REAL MAN...。o○ [2]

KANG DAE HO x FEM!READER

Wylcome back sigmas.. or idk.. help

TAGS

mmm red light green light,blood, a lot of blood, uh period ahh period uh, 'IVE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE' ahh gi hun, but has gore and a lot of death, spoilers, lots of hand holdinh between TWO players (guess who)

NOTE:

Heyy wassup my peeparoo's, i hope yer liking this series fic or whatevs you call it! Ilysm and ty for liking the last post! THAT WAS THE FASTEST LIKES IVE EVER RECEIVED( *・ω・)ノ TYSMM

WORD COUNT:3,560k

PREVIOUS... NEXT PART.. MASTERLIST

"That is correct." The square says. 'Hope this'll be fun, whatsoever.' I say in my thought's, focusing on the rushing things that came on my mind.

"...cool i guess, free money from playing kiddie games." I put yet again, both of my hands in my pocket's. But suddenly, a voice of an old woman was heard.

"Good heavens- excuse me." The voice echoed through the room.

A faint sound of a slap, a slap on a cloth was heard as it soon was followed by words. "You idiot-!" The old woman says.

"Mom! Wha- what are you doing here..?" The familliar voice that was heard earlier said.

"Thats what i wanted to ask you! What are you doing here!?" The old woman's voice said angrily.

"Embarassing? If you know what was embarassing, you wouldn't be here!" The old woman continued, i guess the son spoke in a whisper before that then.

"No- we wont, come on! Your leaving." The old woman said again, it appears to be that my calculations were correct, never mind im sounding like a nerd.

'Wow, family drama in such place like this is crazy, haha.' I say in my thoughts.

"Why would you bring a naive old woman here?! Will you take responsibilit if my mom collapses!? HAH?" The familliar male's voice earlier yelled out.

"yong sik- ill stay and do this, you go home.." the old woman said, now that you knew that player's name.

"Stop it! Im already here, i cant just leave!" Yong sik continues.

"But you promised me! You promised never to gamble again!" The old woman continues(i love this diva sm)

SKIPPING TO.. TAKE PICCIES.

As you were standing in line, looking at the players taking their pics as a woman on the speakers had announced something.

"Damn.. this is taking long, my feet are gonna be sore-" i sighed, but the speakers interrupt me.

"The first game will begin momentarily."

Now the line being done, you took a step as it said to you.. "smile." Yeah sure, smile for the picture or cheese?

(The picture is what i potray the reader as! But you can potray the reader however you like, or being yourself! The reader can be any race, weight, or bodyshape! As long as your enjoying it :). )

Music plays as you stood infront of the camera.

"Yeah i wont.. smile." You say, because your smile scared alot of children last time you approached them, yeesh.

You walked out of the photo booth or something ... i really dont know what its called.

The speaker spoke again.

"After having your picture taken, follow the staff's instructions and proceed to the game site." The speaker says as you slowly went up the stairs...

☆ ○o。..。o○ ☆

"Welcome to the first game, all players please wait a moment on the field." The speaker says as you stepped out, there was sand in the ground, the walls were painted like landscapes, and there was a huge hole above all of this.

But the strange thing you noticed is that..

There was a weird doll that represented a figure of a child, it wore yellow and had pigtails, "yeesh that give's me the chills." You said as the sun went to blind your eyes.

The door behind you closed, basically the door was shut behind you, automatically..

"The game is Red light, Green light." It announced.

I prepared myself as i stretched my arm's "first game, easy enough." You say with confidence as you looked at the front.

"Hey! Dont get too cocky missy." Someone said right behind you, ew.

"Nah, id win." You said, your back still facing the man that said you were too cocky, well it was a sheer boost of confidence.

"Cross the finish line in five minutes without getting caught. If you do you pass." The speaker says but suddenly- someone went upfront, it was the familliar voice that you heard earlier. "Everyone! Everyone! Pay attention!" The familliar figure waved and put his hand to deliver attention to him, wow main character energy that much.

"Listen carefully! This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you DIE!" He yelled out.

"Dying from a kid's game? Sounds awfully fake." You said, fixing your hair as strands went up to your face, looking at the.. crazy? You wouldnt call him that, Man.

"That sounds sketchy,"

"Fake"

"Hes crazy."

People spoke, as you laughed a little.

"Hey! What are you talking about?" A random woman says. "Were going to die playin' red light, green light?" The random woman questioned.

The familliar figure responded. "Of course! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot from somewhere!" The man says.

"Sounds weird enough." You said, letting out a sigh as you moved your head again, looking at your left, you noticed... player 388 yet again. His head was tilted slightly as he listened to the man's words. Huh, cute- wait. Your only here for money not for love.

"Oh hey its you agai-" you spoke out, but the familliar figure that was in the front spoke again.

"Stay on your toes!" The familliar figure yelled out.

"Ehem, as i was saying, hello... player 388." You greeted him as he glanced at you, his lips were parted as he waved a little bit.

"Ah.. hello again uhm, player 238." He says flashing a small grin, but the familliar figure spoke again.

"If you get caught, YOU DIE! That doll's eyes are motion detectors!" The familliar figure says."Stay on your toes!"

"Well, no time for chatting i guess." I say as i spoke to player 288, he nods as we both stood silent, the tension was akward even if there were multiple people surrounding us.

"What the hell are you talking about???" A random man says. "I think he's trying to scare us so he can win the prize money!"

"Thats right!"

"I agree!"

Multiple people agreed on the man's words as we both still stood akwardly with each other.

"Dont pull any tricks, asshole!" Another guy says.

"You have to believe me!" The familliar figure says. The figure rotate's its head as the weird doll starts to move, its right hand started to raise and cover its eye. You took a deep breath and released it.

"Do not be alarmed or panic! No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!" The figure says.

"Let the game begin."

An alarm suddenly ticks as the doll finally spoke.

"Green light, red light."

You moved, and finally stop, looking at the man that did a gesture that made his arms go down.

"Freeze!" The man yelled, you focused on not moving as your feet began digging in the sand. The sun literally is interfering with this.

The doll rotated its head as its eyes began to weirdly move. 'Ew.... creppy ass doll.' You said, looking at the doll while you spoke in your thoughts.

"Well done! You just need to stay calm like this! We just have to move and stop at the same time!" The man yelled.

"Green light...." you moved fastly as you halted, the man speaking yet again.

"Freeze!" He yelled.

'Being in a jumper while being under the sun, too much coverage, but gotta handle it.' You say in your thoughts yet again.

"Dont move! Stay still! Just relax!" The man yelled.

"Green light.." you ran slowly.

"Red light." The doll chanted.

It repeated again as you took some steps, you really wished there was an AC inside this room, well.. you never experienced it anyway except when going to stores and such.

"Freeze!" The man repeatedly yelled again.

'This is getting boring not gonna lie..' you say in your thoughts again.

The doll moved its head again as you repeated it, repeat repeat repeat, even hid words were repeated.

You freezed yet again, the air hitting you lightly.

But suddenly, you heard a gunshot.

Shit.

A loud thud echoed through as you stood, now static as a heavy boulder. Then, there was a scream that followed now, people we're moving. Scarlet red coated the back of your jumper as you still stood. Not flinching from the sound at all.

Screams and gunshots continued, more blood soon dripped in the ground, wow you already got stained by someone's blood. Thats that for not knowing what will happen, also maybe consequences in the first round: getting stained by someones blood.

'Just dont move and we'll be good.' The gunshot's were still going as the man yelled again. "Freeze!" One more gunshot followed it.

"You can move forward while the tagger shouts, 'red light green light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will get eliminated."

The doll rotated its head again as you still stood.

It rotated its head for two times untill the familliar voice finally spoke again.

"You'll also die if you donr make it there in time! That doll is a motion detector! But it can't detect motion thats not visible to it!" The man signals its hand open and closed as he continues with his words. "Get behind someone bigger than you! Like your following the leader! Were running out of time! We've got to move!" You moved behind a.. familliar back with that signature small ponytail of their's.

Player 388. Huh this must be a coincidence that your almost being close to him and such.

You suddenly stumbled as you put your hand behind him.

"...sorry." you said, gripping his jumper a little to be a gesture of an apology, you noticed his hand slightly shaking, that made you feel slightly worried.

"No-nono.. its fine.. miss." He said, you can tell he was anxious suddenly.

Two gunshots were soon followed again as the doll moved its head again, getting your grip out of 388's jumper, he suddenly held your hand and ran, then stopped. His hand felt callused compared to yours, his was warm, yours was.. cold.

You were still behind him as you gulped some air.

Now, a line was now formed by individual players. Yet you still focused on.. the game and this feeling i guess.

"Do not move! Freeze!" The familliar man yelled out, but then suddenly, three thuds were heard as it was one gunshot, and the other two were shot at the same time.

The doll moved its head again and his grip on your hand tightened, running, and then stop.

One gunshot followed as he still kept you behind him, wow dude you guys arent even dating or in a relationship yet, get a grip🙏😭

As i was saying, it repeated again, the sound of the sand below crunching as there were another gunshot.

"Hey- 388, why are you holding my hand-" you questioned but he doesnt respond. He still kept holding it as you both halted again one gunshot. Two gunshot.

You two were almost near the finish line as you noticed someone stumble, now shot.

"It wasnt me. She pushed me i didnt move! It was her i didnt move!" The random man said.

A gunshot was soon followed as the familliar man cheered. "Your almost there! You can do it!"

You two were a step ahead on getting to the finish line.

You two both fell inside the finish line as you both grunted, now you were heaving, breathing for air.

"Im sorry uh- miss, i didnt mean to hold your hand." He said, holding a hand out for you to grab.

You held his hand and stood up, dusting the jumper.

"... thanks for shielding me though, i should be the one to apologize for-" he cut's you out.

"No, no its fine." He spoke. You noticed that there was three people running up to the finish line, the one in middle being injured.

The three of them ran, and now arrived at the finish line.

"By the way miss.. whats your name?" The man behind you spoke.

"I think you already heard it being announced but.. [nam-]" there was a gunshot followed as the man died inside the finish line.

You didnt speak after that, knowing it was a time to not speak.

"...[name]. It is.. im- im kang dae ho." He introduce's himself.

The sky suddenly darkens as you both look up, there was sound building up from the other players as it closed slowly.

"Players, its now time to go back to the quarters." The speaker had announced.

☆ ○o。..。o○ ☆

Now you and dae ho were facing each other even in opposite bunk beds, the silence filling both of your eardrums.

"That was..." you said.

"Not great." He said.

Both of you had said it in unison.

The door buzzed open as the pink guards showed up, walking a little bit.

You hid behind your bunk bed in instinct as they approached.

"Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results of the first game." The square said.

The tv immedietly turned on, showing numbers that dropped down. "Out of 456 players, 91 players have been eliminated. 365 players have completed the first game." The square announces.

"Congratulations again for making it through the first game." The square announces.

"Sir please dont kill us!" The familliar old woman's voice begged. "Please dont kill ud im begging you! As for my son's debt, i will do whatever it takes to pay you back! Please forgive us!"

It followed other players begging for their lives, kneeling down, crying. Both you and dae ho didnt mind all of them but just exchanged eye glance's.

"We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you an opportunity." The square says.

"Clause three of the consent forms!" The familliar man yelled out. " 'the games may be terminated upon a majority vote.' Correct?"

"That is correct." The square answered. Both you and dae ho's head were now turned into the direction of the familliar man, looking at him.

"Then let us vote right now." The man says.

"Of course. We respect your right and freedom of choice." The square continues. "But first, let me announce the prize amount thats been accumalated. "

The square clicks on the remote as the piggy bank slowly goes below along with music and sound effects.

I looked from the side of the bunk bed and stared at the won falling from a tube inside the piggy bank.

"The number of players that were eliminated were 91. Therefore,accumalates to 9.1 billion won." The square says. "If you quit the game now, the 365 of you can equally divide 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.

"How much is that?" The old bitc-man says.

"each person's share would be 24,931,500 won." The square says.

Voice's build up yet again as they all had different answers.

"Thats not enough.."

"We almost died for that.."

Well, it was true. You needed more won. Still too minimum.

"Million? You said 45.6 billion!" A purple haired guy said. Oh you definately could recognize the dude.

"The rule is that, a hundred million won will be accumalated for each eliminated player." The square says.

You perked up from his words that soon followed another. "If you play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly." The square spoke.

"How much will it be if you survive untill the end?" The annoying- i mean old man spoke.

"as i already told you, the total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games, will equally divide the 45.6 billion won." The square answered.

"So if your the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion?" A random man spoke.

"That is correct." The square answered.

Murmurs start building up again as you noticed dae ho fidgeting with his fingers, signalling him with your hand to ask if he was okay, he nods and gives you a thumbs up.

"So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?" A random man had spoke.

"As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote for each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated to that point. We alwaye prioritize your voluntary participation.. Now, lets begin the vote." The square spoke.

You gestured dae ho to stand up and he does so, walking down to go with the fewer people below.

Both of you were standing behind the several players as you sighed.

"If you wish to continue the game, press the O button, if you wish to end them, press the X button." The square has said as you looked at the ground. "The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers, player 456." The man had called out, everyone's attention went to him as you gulped, thinking about what to vote.

You needed the money because it wasnt enough.

"Its all pointless!" Your thoughts had been interrupted as a strange woman that was on the top bunks spoke. "Talk about getting creep's again.." you said.

"You didnt decide when to come into this world, and you cant decide when you leave it either. When and where you die, were already decided by the gods the moment you were born. No matter how hard you try, you CAN never escape it." The woman said.

a button was soon followed as you looked at the flat screen tv, one X. "Once you finish voting, put the patch you are given on the right side of your chest, put the patch you are given on the right side of your chest, and stand on the side you have chosen." The square announces.

A few votes followed as it called dae ho, looking at dae ho who was walking torwards the button, the O went up by one.

After few people again, it was finally your turn. "Player 238." It had announced. The X and O's side turns their face on you as you walked, thinking about the buttons that was plastered on the voting, you finally were infront of it.

You pressed.. O.

After you pressed it, they gave you a blue patch and went to the blue side, the counter went up by one yet again.

Several votes followed as the score is now 87 to 93. Looking at the screen above, someone had spoken up yet again.

"Wait a minute everyone! Wait! You cant do this." The familliar voice had spoken again, looking into the direction of that player, you already knew who it was.

"Come to your senses! Dont you see? These arent all games, we will die if we keep playing! We have to get out of here now." The man had interrupted the voting process.

"Who do you think you are?!"

"Im super man." I answered. It was that annoying old man again.

"Why do you keep egging people on like that? You scared us by saying they'd shoot us before the game even began!" Wow ferocious debate mister.

"Thats right! He was going one abour how we'd die, and i almost did because i got so nervous!" A woman had spoken up, it was followed by a man. "How did you know they were going to shoot us? Are you one of them?" The man had spoken, and that annoying voice came up again.

'Fucking hell this debate makes my head hurts..' i say in my mind, as i went to rub my temples.

"Are you conning us all by pretending to be a player? Who is this guy?!" The old man shoved the man. "Did you plant him to mess with our hands?!" The old man said.

"Thats uncalled for! We wouldn't won the game and survived if it weren't for him!" The guy who seemed to be his bestfriend defended him.

He was correct afterall, but you just needed more money to pay half of the debt.

"And you! I saw how scared you were, and your legs were shaking!" The bff man yelled.

"You should thank him, not treat him like a fraud!" The man yellled. "And who the hell are youuu? Are you conspiring with him?" Another guy said. "Older than you, what are you going to do? Huh? Huh?" It was followed by an old woman's voice gesturinh for them to stop.

"Please dont do this, listen- none of us would be alive if it weren't for this gentleman! So enough with the greed- lets put our live's first and get out of this place- okay?" The old woman cried out.

"Thats right!"

"Lets get all out of here!"

"No we have to keep playing!"

The arguments were cut off as it was followed by the familliar man's voice.

"I have played these games before! I have done this before! I know about the first game because i had played it before! I played the games three years ago! And everyone who was with me.. died here!" The man had said, as voices build up yet again, theyre so noisy...

"They all did?"

"All of them?"

"Really, no way. If they all did, how did you survive alone? Wait. Are you saying you were the sole winner?" A man had said. "Thats right. I was the final winner." The familliar man answered. They were gossiping again soon after. "If we continue the games, every single person here... just like all the people back then, will die in the end." You can hear pain in his last few words. You felt bad but, you still needed the money.

"Bullshit." The old man interrupted again."if you were the sole winner it means you eon 45.6 billion won. If you really did, why would you even come back here?"

"Thats right! Hes lying!"

"Cut the crap!"

"Hes a total nutcase!"

"If someone like you can win, so can i!"

"If you really won it actually works better for us. You can give us some tips, on how to beat these game's." The familliar purple haired dude said, now you do recognize him.

"Thats right! We have a previous winner with us, so what do we have to worry about? Come on lets do this!"

"Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Lets make some money!"

"Lets do this!"

"Lets do it!"

"Lets try!"

You just stood there processing what happened as every word of them came to a blur, but the square spoke again.

"From here on, we will not tolerate actions that disrupt the voting process. Now, lets resume the vote."

Few votes afterward, it all led to a tie. People cheered for the tie.

"Lastly, player 001." They all looked into the direction of the man.

"Everyone say O!"

"O!"

"X!"

They all cheered as the man went to the voting podium.

All of them were now focused on the man, so were you.

The vote had clicked as the O... won.

Half of the people in O cheered as you covered your ears, now.. all the people retreated to their quarters. You noticed dae ho and ran up to him.

"Hey, dae ho!" You said, he noticed you as you followed him, going to your bunk bed as the opposite of him.

You sat down in the bunk bed and looked at hid patch, you werent alone anyways.

"Hey dae ho.. do you have a reason on why you voted O?" You asked, looking at him. "Yeah.. i do." He said quietly.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

If He Could

Jason is an unreliable narrator ~1k words

Jason's no good for you. He's too brash, too rough, too easily pulled away to defend the streets of Gotham. He's a liability in your life, a dark stain in the otherwise perfect fabric of your reality. He's all the worst of shadowed alleys and tortured corners of decaying apartments.

He's quick to pull a weapon, even quicker to throw a punch. He doesn't quite remember how to make his smile look natural, how to stand without his shoulders tense and ready to dodge whatever comes his way. He's not normal. Not someone you should be happy to see.

But you are– everytime he drags his weary body to your window– you're happy. You smile, welcome him inside like he has a place there.

And he doesn't know what to do with it. Doesn't know how he should react to your bright eyes and soft touches and fond words. It's not like he can offer the same back or return the favors you so freely give. He wants to– at least he thinks he does– he just gets stuck when it comes to what to do with you.

He knows he shouldn't tense up at your reassuring pats to his arms– but he freezes, shocked to stillness each time your hands don't bring a wave of hurt to his skin. He knows he shouldn't be so quiet when you ramble about your day, but he can't find the words to describe just how much he does care about every mundane fact you share with him.

And oh, does he care. Too much even. Cares in a way that scares him off the grid for days at a time, only to sheepishly find his way back to your fire escape with a tub of melting ice cream or cooling coffee and a half-baked excuse on his tongue.

He adores you. He won't admit it to anyone, not even to himself most of the time. But he does. It's you who he wants to come back to when his feet ache and his eyes strain to make out words and figures. It's you who makes him feel not so heavy when the sun starts to rise over the tired, crumbling buildings he knows better than his own skin.

He has a portion of his heart and mind set aside just for you. But Jason can't tell you that. The more he relents to you (because he can never say no when you ask), the more he threatens to ruin you. He's a slow rot, a plague that sets into the very marrow of your bones.

But you don't see it. He doesn't want you to, but you should. You should understand that by carving out a place for him besides you, you are going to destroy yourself from the inside out.

There is no happy ending when all he can offer is fleeting comforts and one word answers. He doesn't deserve your patience, your endless willingness to understand and wait for him to figure himself out.

It's not fair to you– to either of you. But he always ends up back in your living room, always ends up with his hands curling into fists as you graciously take whatever food or trinket he's brought to try and win your continued affections.

He secretly believes he must be the most selfish person in the world when he leans into your warm hugs, when he passes out on your couch after your semi-regular movie nights. (He tries not to linger on what it means when he sleeps better on your old, worn furniture than his own bed)

It's cruel of him to lead you on like this. It's cruel of him to set himself up for heartbreak. You'll learn that he's not worth your time soon enough. But, for now, he can't help but bask in the way you offer to stitch the tears in his clothes, the way you so excitedly ask him to try every new recipe you've made.

If he knew how, he'd ask if you were really okay with who he is, what he does, how he acts. Your eagerness to make him feel like he does fit into any place in your life makes him wonder if it's all just a mask. If you're just waiting for him to be at his worst to reveal that it's all a lie– that he's truly and devastatingly unwanted.

Those words still haven't come from either of your lips– don't come– even when he messes up and brings you the wrong flavor of ice cream. (It's not that he forget what you liked– it's just that the store was out and he was bleeding too heavily through his suit to stop at anywhere else)

The words don't even come when he doesn't tell you why he disappeared for over a month this time. (Someone got too close to his identity– to you. He had to track down everyone involved before he could even think of resting or seeing you again)

Jason wants to have the right words, wants to do the right thing, and make you laugh and watch your eyes light up because of something he did. He wants to hug you back in a way that makes you feel safe and needed and wanted above all else. He wants to. He just doesn't deserve to give you that, even if he knew how to do it.

You're just too good. Everything Jason isn't. He feels like he's dragging you down with him when you offer to keep emergency weapons for him hidden in your apartment. He's definitely staining everything you are with his greedy hands when you start keeping extra first aid kits in your closet.

But for the life of him, he can't stop. Can't stop his familiar trek to your windowsill. Can't stop craving the hugs you offer, the conversations you share.

He wants this forever. He wants to keep this– you– whatever this is, in between his fingers and never let go. (He could if you'd just let him) You would.

And when you clean out a drawer in your dresser for him to keep clothes in, when you stock your cupboards with all his preferred foods, fill your shelves with his favorite books, and play the songs he loves to hum along to, he selfishly lets himself believe you might want this forever too. You do.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Need 141 with a virgin reader 🙏

Virgin reader? Having sex for the first time?? On it. Another popular request with several people asking for it. Decided to combine it all into one large post. And, since this is just an excuse to write smut, that's exactly what I did. I hold no shame for that. I had a blast, lots of cackling as I was drafting. Have fun, y'all!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, missionary, vaginal fingering, loss of virginity, rough sex, sex toys, doggy, spanking, just married, hand job

Word Count: 3.1k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

You were told to stay away, to not chase after him. But you love danger, even though you’ve never truly tasted it.

“I won’t go easy on you because you’re a virgin.” John’s voice is poisoned sin. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. It drags on it a bit, drawing it down, showing him your teeth. “You’ll fuck the way I tell you to.”

John retreats, your lip popping back into place. He sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread, completely dressed. It’s the opposite of your current state. Kneeling before him, you’re entirely bare—exposed.

You signed up for this—wanted this.

On the floor between John’s booted feet is a dildo. The base is a flat square and suctioned to the floor. It juts upward with a slight curve to it, the shaft ribbed. John pops open a bottle of lube and holds it out. You immediately present your hand. The clear gel is cold when it makes contact with your palm. John caps the bottle.

“Do what I told you.” John nods toward the dildo. “Show me how’d you’d touch me if that were me.”

You do as he says, wrapping your hand around the dildo, the lube spreading to coat the silicone as you move up and down in the way you think you’re supposed to. There is no experience to lead your hand. John watches silently, face stoic and vacant of emotion. It isn’t until the dildo is coated in lube that John leans forward and grabs your wrist.

Turning your palm upward, John lightly tugs. It’s a command to come to him.

Placing your free hand on his knee, you shift forward. Still kneeling, you settle between his spread legs, the lube-coated dildo rubbing up against the inside of your thigh.

“If I were to fuck you right now, I might hurt you.” John’s gaze drops to the dildo. “You’re going to sink down on that. Take your time. Ride it a bit. And once you’re prepped for me, I’m taking you how I want.”

His words freeze your limbs. You are unable to move—unable to think.

“Go on, love. Show me.”

John’s voice is the coaxing tease that pulls you from your vacant lull. Licking your lips, you sit up on your knees, spreading them enough to angle the head of the dildo and your entrance. You’ve never been penetrated before, not even with a toy or fingers.

But he said you could go slow. Go at your own pace.

With fingers digging into his knee, you start to come down, the head slipping in. As more enters, you whimper, the stretch stinging a bit.

“Slow,” murmurs Price. “Breathe through it. That’s it.”

You listen to his soothing words, sinking further and further down until you can’t take any more.

“Come back up. Like that. Good. Now, down.” As you start to descend, the dildo starts to vibrate. You gasp, and then moan loudly as the vibrations stimulate a sensitive spot inside.

“Again,” growls John.

You move in earnest this time, not caring if your movements look weird or if it’s messy. John is staring at you with hunger in his eyes, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

With his free hand, John undoes his belt and then the front of his pants. His cock emerges, already dripping and hard. He brings your lube-coated hand to it, and you enthusiastically start pumping him the way you did the dildo even as you rock back and forth. It’s only a few strokes more before your hand job slows, the vibrations from the dildo building up the first orgasm of your life. It doesn’t seem to bother John in the least, not when your eyelids flutter and you grind down, almost crying as you fall apart.

The dildo is still vibrating inside you when John stands and hooks his hands beneath your armpits. He helps you off and onto your feet.

“My turn, love.”

You only nod, breathing heavy as John guides you onto your hands and knees on the bed. There’s a shuffling and then John’s hand is on your upper back pressing your front into the bed, leaving your ass high in the air. As the head of his cock enters, his hand slides upward to your neck and then to your head. There, he presses, pushing your face into the bed as he thrusts forward, sinking into your body.

You cry out, fists clenching the sheets. The dildo might have helped but that was you doing the work. This is all John, fucking you savagely, skin slapping against skin as you’re drilled into the bed. The hand not at your head is on your ass, pushing your hips higher, opening you wider for him to hit deeper.

Every few thrusts that hand comes down on your ass with a sharp slap, bouncing your cheek and stinging with each strike. All you can do is take it, but it’s deliciously devilish.

You wanted this, and you can’t help but smile.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Is that okay?”

You start to curl into yourself, sinking further into the pillows behind you on the bed.

Johnny’s head tilts slightly. “Course it’s okay, love. Think I care if you’re experienced or not?”

You shrug. “Some men do.”

He shakes his head, the hint of a laugh on his breath. Leaning in, he seizes your mouth with his own. The kiss is sweet—welcoming. You melt like softened butter. With your surrender comes an intensifying need, an electricity that buzzes between your bodies.

Johnny offers more: a deeper kiss and strong hands trailing along your body. Your legs fall open of their own volition and Johnny slots himself between, pressing you deeper into the pillowy softness beneath you.

Every touch is tinged with desperation. You find yourself clinging to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back, pulling him closer though there is no room. Johnny matches your hunger, the two of you a tangled nest of limbs and want.

You’ve explored, you’ve been kissed, and yet you’ve never gone all the way with anyone.

But with Johnny, you do.

Johnny breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air. He descends, nuzzling your neck, lips tracing along the pulse point there.

“You want me to continue?” he asks, voice raspy.

You hook a leg over the back of his thigh in answer.

Johnny’s hands move up and down the sides your body, squeezing and groping as they go, leaving nothing untouched. His lips descend, finding your shoulder and collarbone, then the curve of your breast. His tongue circles a nipple, and then lightly sucks it into his mouth.

You gasp, back arching, unable to comprehend the sensation. Playing with them yourself is nothing compared to the way Johnny worships them, how he takes his time, cupping each one to kiss and suck and lick.

Johnny brings the nipples to stiff points, and still, he does not cease—not until you’re wiggling, wanting more than this.

“Johnny,” you whimper, wanting to feel him everywhere, to feel him inside.

He glances up from between your breasts, a small smirk on his face. “Keep going?” he asks.

“Please,” you beg, because it’s all you can muster.

Lips trail over stomach and pelvic bone, each leg draped over a shoulder. Johnny tenderly kisses your inner thighs.

“Am I the first to taste you?” he asks, one finger gently sliding over your sex. You’re dripping—needy, pussy clenching with every touch. You nod, and Johnny’s smirk becomes a full grin. “An honor then.”

He spares you nothing. Johnny isn’t interested in coaxing you anywhere. There is no softness, no gentleness since this is your first time. Johnny is ravenous, drawing his tongue up and down your pussy, dipping inside before swirling up to tease your clit. He plays with you until your thighs shake and you push on his head.

It’s too much, and still, Johnny persists.

When he slips one finger inside, and then a second, that is when he lifts his head. He pumps lazily, eyelids heavy, lips and chin wet.

“I’m making camp here. Don’t expect to be leaving soon.”

His mouth returns to your clit, and you completely forget yourself. You lose words and thoughts, becoming numb and weightless, as if you’ll float upward like a balloon. Just because you’re a virgin, why did you think Johnny would spare you? That he would go slowly?

Johnny ceases only when tears run down your cheeks. He licks them up, and then kisses you with your release painting his lips. “Gonna fuck you now,” he murmurs, the head of his cock pressing against your sex.

His large, muscled arms press into the pillows on the either side of your head. Hips shifting, Johnny starts to sink in. There’s a brief flicker of resistance and then nothing, just all pleasure, and Johnny stretching you. You gasp, and Johnny groans loudly, head falling back as he settles in to the hilt.

“Fucking hell. You’re tight. Fuck—”

Johnny continues to swear, to mutter expletives under his breath as he slides out and then back in. Two more thrusts and Johnny is shaking his head. “I’m already—fuck, love. I’m gonna come.”

Johnny becomes a boulder, nearly flattening you against the bed as he thrusts once, twice, and then holds still, the muscles in his body stiffening slightly and then relaxing. A little shudder runs through him, and a new, warm wetness fills your pussy.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The gold wedding band on Simon’s finger shines in the low lamp light.

This man is all yours. Forever. Til death do you part.

And yet, you’ve never slept with him, never shed your clothes and become one. Not that the two of you have been entirely celibate your relationship. There were desperate moments when the two of you came together in the dark, but knowing that you didn’t want to have sex until after marriage, Simon made the effort to steer you away from breaking that promise.

He didn’t have to. He could have taken advantage. It’s what plenty of other men would have done. But Simon isn’t just any man. You told him what you wanted, and even in your most desperate moments when you begged for him, he kept you to it.

Now, the ceremony is done.

The two of you made a quiet exit after the dancing started. You thought you’d be exhausted, that the two of you might order some pizza and fall asleep to some reality show playing in the background.

But Simon is removing his tie, unbuttoning the front of his white shirt, black suit jacket tossed to the side. He glances over his shoulder at you, and you see a hunger there. There won’t be pizza or a reality show marathon.

“Come here,” he says, and your feet move without hesitation. His arms are powerful, ensnaring you the second you’re close enough to reach for. Simon’s fingers brush over the fabric of your wedding dress, tracing the beadwork and detail. “Need help with this?”

You don’t, but you give him your back anyway.

Simon takes his time, unzipping the dress like you’re a delicate present. The moment there’s bare skin, he leans down and places his lips there. A little shiver runs through you, followed by a growing ache.

Hands sliding beneath fabric, Simon eases it over your shoulders, down your arms, and to your hips. You join in, helping it over your curves to pool at your feet on the floor. Simon caresses a line down one arm before backing away.

As you turn, he loosens his belt, opening it up to unzip his dress pants and popping the button. He walks backward toward the bed, easing down to the edge of the bed. Slowly, he falls back onto his shoulders, stretched out and a bit disheveled.

“Go on, love. Do what you want.”

All this time, you’ve talked a big game, begged him for sex, described what you want from him when the time finally comes. It’s here, and yet you’re frozen to the spot, gaze fixed on his muscled stomach.

“I’m all yours.”

Slowly, you walk toward him, placing one knee on the edge of the bed. Simon’s hand promptly reaches for you, resting against your thigh a moment before sliding up and squeezing. Though Simon appears in control of himself, you notice the way his chest heaves with every breath he takes.

Swinging your leg up and over, you straddle his lap. Both of his hands are on you now, groping and touching, dragging you closer to him until your bodies are sandwiched together.

“Simon,” you sigh, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

“Fuck it,” he growls, scooping you up in his arms, and flipping you onto your back.

Pinning you beneath him, Simon claims your mouth—devouring you like it’s his due. And you are not immune, wanting him just as much, pulling at his dress shirt to reveal more of him. Simon doesn’t undress you, leaving the white bra, thong, and stockings untouched. Instead, he pushes the thong to the side, fingers seeking your arousal.

He drags his middle finger up and down your sex, groaning against your throat as he does so.

“Need you,” he groans. “Need to be inside you.”

You reach for his pants, shoving at them hastily, needing the same.

“Take me, Simon. Please. Want to feel you.”

Simon joins in your hunger, pushing his pants down enough for his hard cock to emerge. You’re already grabbing at him, already guiding him to your entrance. You don’t care that it might hurt, that you could be wetter—slicker. You just want Simon inside you. You want him everywhere.

With a low groan, Simon urges your legs wider, and then he’s easing inside. You gasp at first, the stretch of him a bit painful.

“You can take me, love,” he murmurs.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you burying your face against his throat as Simon’s hands slide under your ass to prop your hips up. It gives him a better angle to drive home, to fit your bodies together until you’re flush against him.

“Mine,” he murmurs as his cock slowly slides out. “Mine,” he repeats, this time growling as he thrusts forward.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“We’ll go slow. There’s no rush.”

Kyle’s words are a comfort, a soothing balm against the anxiousness. You’re excited, eager, but nervous all the same. You love this man. You want to be with him in all ways, especially this.

His kiss is slow and languid, just as comforting as his words. It is easy to trust him, to allow his presence to chase away whatever trepidation you hold. He cradles your face and your body, taking his time, showing you with his actions that his words have meaning.

Between kisses, Kyle’s hands roam, caressing and exploring. His touch is electric. Wherever his skin touches yours sends a small shiver through your body.

“All good?” asks Kyle, pausing his delicious kisses, gaze roaming over your body.

“Yes,” you breathe, leaning in for more.

He opens up, offering his own greed in return. When his hands start to work at your clothes, you happily help him, reaching for him as much as he’s reaching for you. Clothes are discarded, but Kyle doesn’t faulter.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, fingers dancing across your bare body. “Do you want to touch me?”

“Touch you?” you giggle, because you’re already touching him.

His smile is soft as he takes your hand and guides it to his erection. “Here,” he groans as your fingers find him.

Kyle does not instruct, he simply gives you permission to explore, to run your fingers along the length, to brush your thumb over the slit where a pearly bead blooms, to bring that thumb to your mouth to taste him.

“You’re a bit salty,” you murmur, and Kyle chuckles.

Curiosity gets the better of you. As you press on his shoulders, urging him onto his back, you wiggle downward, intent on licking the next drop up from the source.

“Wait,” groans Kyle, grasping the back of your neck. “Don’t.” You glance up, not understanding. He shakes his head. “I’ll be done in seconds if you do that.”

He urges you back into his arm, and then Kyle is kissing you again, the two of you exploring with your hands. As Kyle delves between your legs, you open for him, sighing with pleasure as the tip of one finger circles your clit.

“This okay?” he whispers against your lips. You hum with contentment and Kyle shifts that finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it in. “What about this?”

His palm presses against your clit as he penetrates you with a second finger. Your back arches, hips rocking forward to take more.

“That’s a yes, love,” he croons. “Ride it. Take what you need.”

You don’t care if you look ridiculous, you only know what your body wants, and seeking it out. Kyle stays perfectly still, watching you ride his fingers, watching where his fingers disappear and reappear with every rock of your hips. The flat of his palm perfectly rubs against your clit, and it takes only a minute before your pussy clenches around his fingers.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw as your orgasm rockets upward and explodes, splitting like an atom bomb.

You don’t even realize he’s withdrawn his fingers until he’s sucking them clean and pushing you onto your back. The head of his cock settles, and then presses is. You gasp at the brief resistance.

“You can take me,” whispers Kyle. “Relax. Breathe.”

He doesn’t move, just waits, and when your breathing begins to slow, he gives you a bit more. The resistance is gone, leaving only a delicious stretch that makes you feel utterly full.

Kyle’s rhythm is a soft rocking. You feel every inch leaving and then returning.

“This is the pace. You tell me if you want more.” Kyle’s voice is rough—laced with lust. You can tell that he wants to be a bit rough, that he’d love to hold you down and fuck you senseless, but he’s purposefully being gentle to not rush you—to make you feel loved and safe.

He kisses you as he thrusts, looking into your eyes, murmuring sweet words.

“More,” you murmur, sensing the growing orgasm. You want to chase it, to find your end with him.

Kyle smiles, and urges your legs wider.

taglist:

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@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[will-0-w]

mdni- dirty talk, rough nanami, public teasing, ass slapping, use of the word ‘slut’, hair pulling, (this was rushed, please excuse if it’s not that good)

nanami kento was usually always a very composed man, barely anything could make him tick or loose his temper, well.. that was until you decided to tease him aimlessly while you were both having dinner with your friends at some fancy restaurant

as he sat across from you at the table you decided to, at first, subtly trail the tip of your heel along his leg under the table. sure it was innocent and subtle at first, and nanami paid no mind to what you were doing until the subtle traces became not so subtle and the tip of your heel inched higher, higher and higher to his groin. nanami visibly tensed and you revelled in that, a small smirk formed on your lips before it disappeared as quickly as it came

nanami shot you a warning look before turning back to everyone else who were too immersed into conversation to notice anything. you decided to test the waters and this time pressed your foot fully onto him. that made him finally tick but he quickly composed it by excusing the both of you with a reason that he said was ‘a home emergency’

that was how you ended up in this position, face pressed into the pillows, ass hoisted up as nanami stood behind you. he bunched your dress up to your waist and practically ripped your black panties off to shreds, letting the material fall onto the sheets under you. running his large, warm palm on the plush of your ass before striking that same hand onto the supple flesh causing you to yelp in surprise

“think you can pull a stunt like that and get away with it?” slap! “acting like some cock drunk slut” slap! “you’re just begging for it, aren’t you?” slap!

you’re quickly a moaning and whining mess as he delivers the sharp blows to your ass, tears prickling your eyes, but god, you’re just so wet from his degrading words and slaps. “you’re enjoying this, hm?” before you could respond he lands a final harsh slap and you cry out in pure pleasure

the unbuckling of his belt fills the room and soon he drops his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles as he slips his boxers off after. he’s already hard and aching to bury himself into your cunt but doesn’t give you the pleasure of thinking that you have the upper hand. “you’re such a slut for my cock, aren’t you? enjoying teasing me and seeing me loose my cool” nanami then slides his cock along your soaked folds, pushing the tip slightly past your entrance before pulling away just as fast causing your hips to chase after him

he tuts in mock disappointment as he runs his hand across your backside again, running his fingers through your folds instead before finally bringing his cockhead to your entrance and slipping in halfway, he groans at how your pussy sucks him in, never getting tired of the feeling as he fully sheaths his entire length into you. nanami barely gives you any time to adjust before he’s mercilessly pounding into you from behind, your fingers gripping onto the bed sheets, eyes rolling back in ecstasy, waves of immense pleasure filling your body and mind

he gives your ass a couple more slaps before reaching for your hair, gathering as much as he can to form a makeshift ponytail, pulling you backwards causing your back to arch sinfully towards him, your moans were borderline pornographic as you called out his name like a broken plea. “taking my cock so well, my cock slut” his crude words only seemed to fuel the flames rising in your lower belly

nanami’s free hand snakes forward to roughly rub at your pearly clit, your own hand clawing at his wrist, “na-nanami!” your high pitched voice only made his thrusts more erratic and fervent. your impending orgasm approached you sooner than you expected and the next second you were gushing all over his cock, white hot pleasure rippling through you in waves

nanami followed soon after causing thick, warm ropes of his cum to release into your cunny though he didn’t stop there. looking down at the creamy ring of combined juices around his base made him groan directly into your ear, “nanami s’too much..” you whined and tried pushing away from him. “you can take one more can’t you? my good little cock slut” a low laugh rumbled deep in his throat before he started his series of rough thrusts

“just one more” nanami kept telling you for the next hour as he pounded away at your poor abused cunt.

[thebreakfastgenie]

You spent this entire response talking about how, unfortunately, I wouldn't read it, and surely I would block you, and then at the end you basically asked me not to respond. Lol.

Unfortunately for you, I have never blocked a blog that wasn't a bot and my adderall is kicking in, so I read every word.

The reason my first response to you was so long is that I wasn't entirely sure exactly what point you were making, so I was trying to cover all my bases. I wasn't trying to put words in your mouth. In this second comment you've more clearly focused on the argument that TERFs use man-hating to cover for legitimate bigotry. Unfortunately, that argument is nonsense. None of the examples you gave are using man-hating as a cover for anything, at least not successfully. The bigotry in those examples is not subtle. If someone can't recognize racism or transphobia in rhetoric like that their problem is that they're not very aware of bigotry and just not very bright. I can't identify the exact logical relationship, if there is one, but this argument bears some odd resemblance to the point women often make, that people on the left often use complaints about cisness or whiteness or wealth as covers for their misogyny. But women don't ask people not to complain about cisness or whiteness or wealth, just to stop singling out women and being misogynistic. In this case your argument still leaves women out in the cold. Everyone else can complain about their oppressors, but women can't, because someone somewhere might use man-hating as a justification for something else.

At a certain point, hypothetical statements are meaningless without context. If a woman makes a post about misogyny and singles out Indian men, it might because she's racist or it might be because she lives in India. The words that are used may be very similar (although the first one is more likely to include some slurs) but the meaning is very different. One of the problems with social media is that posts are often seen without their original context. There is a long history of women of color being pressured to stay silent about misogyny within their own communities using the reasoning that the community must be united and any negativity will give ammo to racists. This puts women of color in a really difficult situation. It also serves to prevent them from forming solidarity with other women. The way forward is just to make an effort to recognize all forms of bigotry, misogyny included, when they come up. To make an effort to tell the difference between a good faith attempt to address one issue that's fallen prey to unconscious bias or systemic bigotry and a bad faith argument that's one issue as an excuse for another kind of bigotry. To be willing to both say and hear good faith criticism in the first scenario, to reform arguments without the bias instead of throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Man-hating is not a good proxy for other kinds of bigotry.

I have no idea what the transmascs bomb post is. In general, a post that singles out transmascs is probably not okay, because the relevant part is that they are trans, and being cruel to trans people is... wait for it... transphobic. In some situations, the point about intracommunity man-hating applies. Trans women may complain about trans men just as any other group of marginalized women may complain about the men in their own community. To some extent it's probably reasonable to say certain things should not be posted publicly where cis people can get ahold of them without sufficient context, but that's an intracommunity issue that I'm honestly not qualified to speak on, because I'm cis. I only bring it up because I've dealt with analogous intracommunity in some communities I am a member of; it's a fairly universal concern but the particulars here are outside my lane.

You focused a lot on whether or not TERFs like men, which was really tangential to the actual point of this post. "TERFs like men actually" was referring to their eagerness to form relationships with right wing cis men to gain political power. Also, before it finally got taken down, a decent number of the posts on the TERF subreddit were from cis men claiming to be radical feminist allies who the TERFs gleefully and hypocritically pointed to as "one of the good ones" while they bonded over hating trans women. TERFs live in the same society as everyone else (unfortunately) and in a society as patriarchal as ours, few people really hate men as much as they think they do. A similar phenomenon exists with other marginalized groups. Unconscious bias cuts both ways; not just unconscious bias against a marginalized group, but unconscious bias towards a powerful group.

Using man-hating as a shield for bigotry doesn't make a lot of sense because man-hating isn't socially accepted just about anywhere. It always gets pushback. Ask any woman who's made a negative general statement about men. And TERFs spend a lot of time with the far right, where hating men is certainly not acceptable. I don't know where you live, but on the anglophone internet man-hating is not generally accepted. And even when you do hear "I hate men," the power dynamics of patriarchy are such that it's just not a real problem.

Trans-exclusionary radical feminism is essentially a subtype of transphobia that uses an interpretation of radical feminist theory as a justification for transphobia, rather than religion or plainly homophobic rhetoric about sexual deviance (though versions of this argument surface in TERF rhetoric as well and there's a great deal of convergence with the social conservative version). Quite often in hate movements like that, the ideology is a post-hoc justification for the bigotry. So the logic of men oppress women -> trans women are men -> trans women are bad because they oppress [cis] women may be what TERFs say but it's often not an honest representation of their thought process. Both TERFs and garden-variety transphobes (who openly revere men) hate trans women for being, according to them, men who pretend to be women. TERFs will even say, disingenuously of course, that it would be fine if trans women would only live as gender non-conforming gay men. It's transness that transphobes despise, the act of existing while trans.

#Also one of your followers left hate in my DMs#not even an ask!#not even an anon#get braver followers.

I know my closing paragraph was a bit of a non sequitur. I am making an effort to end walls of text with something actionable, and since you'd brought up trans men I thought it might be worthwhile to end by talking about the issues they face and acknowledging the intersections they're dealing with in the current political situation where I live. I'm also really feeling the weight of the incoming far right government in my country so any time I end up in ~discourse~ with other progressives I feel the urge to remind both of us as well as anyone else who reads the post who the real enemy is. I'm caught between my ADHD and inability to let anything go compelling me to respond to comments on my posts and my feeling that fighting each other is a waste of time when the threat of the far right looms. Ending that way was my compromise for myself.

My followers are their own people with agency. I do not control them. I also don't choose who they are because I don't block or softblock and quite honestly there are enough of them that I don't have time to screen them, even if wanted to. Speaking to you in a DM with their URL attached doesn't sound cowardly. You can still publish screenshots of the conversation if you choose, choosing DM over ask just means they don't intend to confront you publicly. Nothing about how I run my blog has ever encouraged anyone to send hate in any form. It sounds like they were responding--however inappropriately--to your post. This really has nothing to do with me, my blog was just the vehicle by which they saw it.

Something I want this website specifically to reflect on! Are you mad at women for talking about men the same way you talk about cishets or neurotypicals? Why?

[fee224]

Mr snowman

Rafe cameron x overlooked!reader

Warnings: childhood trauma

Rafe arrived at half six, sharp. You had been coerced into inviting rafe Cameron for dinner with all your sisters, and parents on Friday. You assured him he didn’t have to come, if there was a party on or he didn’t want to, but he reassured you he would be there, which make your heart flutter all week despite hating family dinners.

You were in a dress, same as all the girls in your family as he strolled into the kitchen following your mother, with flowers for your mother, and you!

You felt silly clambering off the kitchen island stool and accepting his flowers and kiss on the forehead. He wasn’t your boyfriend, but you knew you weren’t his friend, you just had to hang in there with hope.

His eyes once taking in your outfit, chuckled at the sight of your fancy dress and Ugg mini slippers.

Your sisters came traipsing in shortly with each other or their children, boyfriends and husbands. Your mother gushing over each of them, and rafe to each one.

The boys were the first sat at the table, including rafe who had no trouble shooting the breeze. You cringed at yourself for actually being jealous.

Then your sisters while you wordlessly helped your mother set the table and bring the plates to the table until you were sat beside rafe, he turned around to give you a comforting smile before thanking your mother.

“Of course rafe! You’re welcome any time, you hear me!” Your parents continued as you forked peas.

Conversation was effortless for him, and you didn’t feel so special, he was naturally good at this stuff. He kept dragging you into the conversation just for you to stare at him and mutter a small “Yeah”.

You would think this was his family, the way he was desperately including you but the dirty looks coming your way from your brother in laws made you want to sink into the ground.

After everyone was finished, conversation continued. You sat, your vision shifting to outside the window, to your plate to your mother whenever she would speak. Rafes hand slipped onto your thigh and rubbed gently as some type of soother.

Then you helped your mother to wash and dry dishes, you told rafe it’s fine to go into the living room with everyone, you’ll be in after your done and he just stared at you trying to figure out the hidden meaning, there wasn’t one, you were simply uncomfortable.

“You complain y/n, but you never make the effort!” Your mother turned from the cabinet to give you a stern look as you frowned weakly into the bubbles in the sink. “Sorry, I don’t know how” you croaked, you truly had no excuse but you didn’t exactly expect sympathy.

The fire was roaring in the living room as you sat on the rug, next to rafes feet, where he sat on the end of the couch. Your niece was in your lap as you stroked through her hair, putting her to sleep slowly, she missed her nap today.

You weren’t paying attention to the conversation until you heard your name, your head springing up from across the room.

“Y/n, you remember mr snowman?” Shilah sipped her white white, on the arm of her long term boyfriend. Rafe nudged you with his foot, presuming it was a cute memory from when you were children. You returned the small smile back up at him.

“Yeah, s’all kinda blurry” your head bowed to focus harder on your nieces hair.

“Rafe! You have to hear this” Mandy snorted and nudged Campbell who looked entirely uncomfortable.

“Okay okay! Y/n is seven and hasn’t uttered a word, little on the slow side weren’t ya?” You couldn’t tell who was speaking, trying to drown it all out. Why were they telling him this. He’s going to leave.

“She used to run off into the woods behind our house whenever she’d cry, she’d come back with bruises all over her body and wouldn’t fucking show anyone because this mr snowman had healing touch” it was all true unfortunately. You had convinced yourself a snowman was real, was your friend, was magical, all so you didn’t have to show your parents your bruises, tell them your feelings.

“Everyone thought she was like messed up…. Like in the head. She had to go to special doctors and speech therapists” another voice added and you could feel the flame on your neck, cheeks, ears, feet, between your breasts and under your armpits.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t see him and know he’s seeing the real you back.

“What a waste of money” a deep voice added “I mean don’t worry babe, we are loaded” and then a sound of a giggly kiss as you felt your dinner start to unravel.

As you stood up dizzly, all you noticed was rafes clenched fists as you excused your self.

“I need tuh-“ you breathed out heavily, stumbling out of the door.

Footsteps were following you as your knees dropped underneath you, elbows leaning on the toilet seat. A thick hand gathered all your hair and held a hand to your forehead, the cold pressure relieving your confusion.

“You’re good doll, my little darlings okay, hm.” You heaved at his words, tears streaming down your numb cold cheeks as you fell onto his lap, leaning against his chest on the tile floor as he stroked you kindly.

You focussed on the material of his jumper, the feeling of your legs touching, the sound of his voice, the words he was repeating as bible.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just cause trouble” you mumbled, distressed, still only half conscious as he just responded in forehead kisses, and cheek kisses, temple kisses and tip of your nose kisses. You floated away. Meeting a slow void filled with hurt and love. You clung to rafe as he protected you from the voices inside your own head, and the ones outside, sleeping down the hall, or down the street.

“Doesn’t sound like you like talking hmm? You can talk to me y/n” his fingers were tracing your back. Leaving you dizzier and healing you in the same breath.

‘Please let me keep this one’ you silently prayed.

- fee xxx

[amyispxnk]

I'd run away and hide with you

Summary - Ellie joins you and Joel on your trek to Jackson. Along the way, your mind gets the better of you, and when you reach Jackson it all comes crashing down.

A/N: i don't have any excuses for why this took so long and im so so sorry guys 😭 2024 was hectic and ive only recently been able to catch up on stuff pls forgive mee

Pairing: platonic/father figure!Joel Miller x f!reader (could probably be read as GN tho?)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, violence, guns, language, PTSD, abuse mentions, panic attack/mental breakdown

Previous Chapter || Series Masterlist

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

You’re getting bad again; that much is visible to him now. But he doesn’t even know what’s wrong this time.

You never open up to him anymore. At the start, you’d tell him everything that was going on in that little head of yours. You’d let him hold you while you cried. You’d always talk to him.

Now you don’t talk and you practically smack yourself in the face whenever you cry, willing the tears away as you bite down on your lip.

It’s been a few months since you left Boston to visit the guys at Lincoln. It was a good trip. After that hiccup at the start, you had pretty much forgotten about your dad; he couldn’t even get to you in your sleep. You spent a lot of time hanging out with Frank whilst Bill and Joel ‘talked business’, and it was pretty fun seeing the little home they had built for themselves in the town - Frank even let you pocket some strawberries, and it was your first time trying them. Safe to say they were fucking amazing, and you told Joel all about it that night. He'd pretend to be annoyed at your incessant rambling but he liked to see you happy, distracted, somewhat.

When you came back, Marlene was bugging Joel about some new smuggling job in exchange for the car battery he’d been searching for and before you knew it, you were back on the road again to bring this kid - Ellie - to the fireflies.

She was a bright, bubbly kid. Constantly talking and telling you and Joel jokes from that damn pun book of hers.

Joel didn’t warm up to her nearly as quickly as you did, and you obviously knew why. You’d been staying with him for almost half a year now, and had gone through a lot of shit with him, so he’d told you about his past. About Sarah.

So you had a hunch that that was why he didn’t open up to Ellie easily. That was why he’d always just grunt at her whenever she asked a question, why he’d practically toss her food at her when she had to eat, why he would barely even acknowledge her.

You could always tell he never meant it though. He didn’t really hate her. He cared about her - that’s just how he was - and it scared him. He was a protector, a fighter, and, most importantly, a father. He basically took you under his wing and gave you all the paternal love you ached for before, and now he had Ellie to look out for too.

But as time went on, you started noticing things. He started laughing at her jokes, or engaging in conversations with her, even telling her about before. You then realised how much it actually pissed you off.

Seeing them getting along made you incredibly jealous. Joel was your protector, your carer, your da..

You shake your head. It still felt weird when you accidentally found yourself thinking of him like that, giving him that name in your head.

It had been a few months since you all left Boston, for good you hoped, you hated that place and all the unfortunate memories you left there, but now you were in the cold and unforgiving state of Wyoming.

Right now you were all huddled around a fire in a little alcove. Joel had some whiskey which he sipped on.. As he talked to Ellie. Fucking Ellie, who was joking around with him, asking him stupid questions about some sheep farm on the moon.

You weren’t paying attention, you didn’t care. You instead chose to stew in your own thoughts which were drifting back to before any of this. You stared into the fire as you remembered the times you were the one making Joel smile, the one he’d hold and comfort, the one he’d talk with at the end of a long day.

He didn’t do all of that with Ellie, but he didn’t do any of it with you anymore, either.

Suddenly, your thoughts go even further back, remembering your father. Remembering the constant screaming which definitely damaged your eardrums by the time you’d left, the incessant beatings you received - at least that taught you first-aid, right? - and the many, many nights spent crying yourself to sleep. You didn’t get to cry in front of your father, knowing he’d only hit you harder for being weak and useless, so you just waited until you were curled up on the little mattress on the floor, your dad already asleep from the alcohol.

You only come back to the present moment when you taste the metal of blood in your mouth. You didn’t remember biting down on your lip but apparently you had been so hard that it made you wince slightly when you pressed your fingers to it.

Joel didn’t notice. He was still talking with Ellie, his eyes soft as he looked at her over the flames.

Jealousy makes tears sting at your eyes. You’d thought finally, finally, you found someone who would actually care about you.

Now you watch bitterly as Ellie makes him laugh more than you’d done in a while, wondering what you did wrong.

-

You were clutching your handgun tight, not feeling safe out in the open like this despite not having encountered any dangers for a good week now. It felt like things were too safe, and you didn’t like it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ellie blowing air through her lips, and it actually kind of annoyed you, because what was she even doing?

Joel asked that question for you.

“What are you doing..?” He sighs heavily, glancing at her, to which she just smirks.

“I’m learning to whistle.” She replies simply.

“You don’t know how to whistle?”

“Does it look like I know how to whistle?” She huffs.

They go back and forth for a little longer, with Joel ending up defeated as Ellie continues her air-blowing, and you find your heart splintering at the sight of them bickering only like father and daughter would. It might not seem like much, but you’ve definitely noticed how Joel’s gotten closer with Ellie over the past few months. It’s upsetting, seeing his natural paternal instincts coming out with her too now.

The three of you make your way past a big dam and arrive at a river, at which point Ellie unhelpfully chirps up.

“Hey, guys, what if this is the river of death?” She jokes, not realising how poor her timing was, for you hear the heavy thuds of horse hooves almost as soon as she finishes her sentence.

“Hands up. Don’t make any sudden movements, or we shoot.” A gruff voice barks out. You know better than to go against what they’ve said, so you turn slowly with your arms raised, and wait for Joel to do any negotiating.

“We ain't lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.” Joel says, keeping his voice strong and unwavering.

“Drop the gun.” The man spits, and Joel slowly does as he says, his eyes wide with panic and betraying the collected and brave persona he attempts to put on when he realises that this might be it.

Ellie looks equally terrified, and you can’t blame her, especially when the man addresses her directly, telling her to step back and away from you.

“How ‘bout we just talk this through-” Joel starts.

“How about you shut the fuck up?” The man’s gun is now raised, and Joel knows better than to argue now, nodding.

The man asks about if any of you are infected, and you feel the dread setting into your bones. Joel tries to diffuse the situation and ease the man’s (unfortunately correct) suspicions, but it’s no use, as he whistles for the sniffer dog.

He offers you a bullet instead, the easy way out, and you all remain silent, panicking further as the dog sniffs you, then Joel, then makes its way to Ellie.

You don’t know where to look, you can see Joel starting to hyperventilate, you can see Ellie’s eyes shining with a terror you’ve never seen her showing before, and you just decide to not look anywhere. You squeeze your eyes shut before-

She’s giggling. Your brows furrow, eyes opening to see Ellie playing with the dog, her face getting licked, and she looks over at the two of you, giving you a sort of ‘how the fuck am I alive’ look, before petting the dog and smiling.

“You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What’s your business here?” The man shouts, and Joel tells him that he’s looking for his brother, trying to keep things brief.

A lady rides forward, asking Joel for his name. He gives it, and she’s silent, looking around at the three of you and trying to piece things together, before telling you to come with her.

-

Maybe something’s wrong with me, you think, picking at your nails absentmindedly as you trail behind the group - Maria, Joel, Ellie, and Tommy on their little tour of Jackson.

No, something’s definitely wrong with me. Because why else would you be so jealous of them? Of Joel finally finding his brother - another person to drive him away from you - and finally growing closer to Ellie.

Not to mention the way you just fucking clam up any time he asks about it.

Not to mention the way you just let it all build up, suffering in silence, waiting and waiting for the inevitable moment where you break.

You all end up in the dining hall afterwards and, while you’re pissed about everything else, you can’t deny some good food. You almost moan at the taste of proper, seasoned meat after all these months, wolfing it down in similar speed to Ellie and Joel.

“There’s more if you need it.” Maria adds after a few moments of watching you all, no judgement in her tone despite your rough actions.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Joel says, looking up briefly before continuing to eat. “Been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie chimes in, making you clench your jaw. God, even her voice pisses you off. Nobody asked her to talk. “This is amazing.” She mumbles, food in her mouth.

Joel glances at her for a second.

“Sorry.” He tells Tommy and Maria. “Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

She doesn’t reply, looking up instead to see a girl watching her behind a pillar.

“What!” She barks, making the girl run away and making you scoff. She glances at you, frowning, before continuing to eat.

You knew she didn’t hate you - you were a good pretender most of the time. Laughing at her jokes, smiling tightly during conversations.. But lately you’d slipped a bit, and she was starting to notice.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel mutters.

“What about her manners?” Ellie spits, always so defensive.

“She was just curious.” Maria soothes, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right,” she says, nodding her head slowly, “well maybe I’ll teach them.”

It takes everything in you to not scream. She was annoying you so much. And she was getting all the attention because of her boisterous behaviour. You were sitting there, quietly, calmly, and no one batted an eye at you.

“And I want my gun back.” Ellie argues.

“They also aren’t armed.”

Tommy jumps in, sensing the tension growing even more.

“You know what, uh, I think y’all got off on the wrong foot.” He starts, but the two keep bickering.

Eventually, Tommy reveals that Maria is his wife, and after an eager congrats! from Ellie, and the most forced one possible from Joel, the meal ends.

-

Tommy quickly shows the three of you around the rest of Jackson - Maria chose to stay behind - before leaving you and Ellie in your temporary house, going to have a chat with Joel.

“Soooo.. That was awkward, huh?” She chuckles, trying to joke with you like you used to at the start of all this.

You nod, anger still bubbling up inside of you. You didn’t want to be angry at her, or Joel, even, and you knew if you talked with her for too long you’d just end up yelling at her, so you tried your hardest to keep calm.

She chews on her lip, nodding slowly before starting to ramble about how crazy this town is and how Joel is totally pissed at Tommy.

You keep nodding along, wondering how on Earth she manages to keep going on and on for way too long.

Eventually, she bids you goodbye, going to explore the town.

You wouldn’t want to hang out with yourself either, you think as she closes the door.

-

Joel came back home in the evening, pissed off. You tried saying hi to him, having decided you were done being annoyed at him, but he completely brushed you off before storming upstairs.

Maybe you weren’t making it up. Maybe he did just.. Start hating you.

Ellie’s been in her claimed room for an hour, and the house is quiet until about 10pm. You’re still on the couch, curled up, lost in your thoughts. About Joel, about Ellie, wondering about yourself, too. You were thinking about how nice this town is, how you didn’t want to leave tomorrow at all, but figured you’d definitely have to. You’d have to return to the wasteland outside these walls, and you’d probably never make it back to Jackson.

You’d had too many close calls already. God, or whatever was out there, had probably spared you enough.

Your thoughts spiralled and spiralled until it happened.

Everything came out.

It started with tears, silent as they streamed down your face, before the anger released itself, making you dig your nails into your skin in some final attempt at self-control, before you were storming upstairs.

You throw the door open to Joel’s room, and he blinks at you, having been in bed, probably trying to sleep while you soaked in your misery downstairs.

He’s such a fucking asshole, is all you can think.

“I’m not coming with you tomorrow.” You mutter, surprised you aren’t yelling already.

His brows furrow and he stands up, trying to approach you.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” He says, voice stern and rough.

“You clearly don’t want me around anyway! I’d just be making your life even harder if I came with you. I’ll.. I’ll just go my own way.” You huff, voice quivering towards the end when you realised you’d have to trek this world alone now.

He repeats his previous question and you bury your face in your hands, nails tightening against your fists as you try not to start screaming at him.

“When was the last time we had a proper conversation? Or you asked me how I was doing? Or you hugged me, or anything?! You couldn’t even be bothered to say hi to me earlier, and last night you and Ellie were being buddy-buddy by the fire while I was literally on the verge of tears. You clearly don’t care about me anymore. It’s just her.” You’re shouting now, rage consuming you as you get closer to him, shoving him backwards.

He grabs your arms roughly and you visibly flinch, eyes widening under your furrowed brows as you peer up at him. His face is blurry underneath your tears, and your mind short-circuits.

Your dad is back? Your mind tells you yes. Yes, and you’ve pissed him off now, he’s grabbing you because he’s about to throw you on the floor. You’re always doing something wrong - you should’ve known better than to argue. Only insolent, disgraceful children open their mouths in retaliation. You should respect your father. Now you have to apologise and pray he accepts it.

Immediately you’re cowering. He can’t even get a word out before you start apologising, body trembling as he loosens his grip on you.

“Please, sir, I- I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- to yell. I’m sorry, I’ll leave, just please d-don’t- please don’t h-urt me-” you choke out, voice raw.

His expression softens, brows knitted in concern now rather than frustration.

“Baby, come here-” he tries to say, but you’re shaking your head, inching further backward until you press against the wall, whimpering when you realise you’re trapped.

Now he’s going to hurt you. Your apologies mean nothing when he gets this mad.

Joel had only grabbed you. It was nothing like the abuse you used to face and yet it was still enough to make you completely crumble.

You sink to the floor, sobbing, still apologising. Ellie’s awake by now, her eyes wide as she listens to what she can make out. What the fuck did he do to you? She’s about to get up, to go and protect you. She doesn’t care if you’d been giving her the cold shoulder for the past few weeks, she doesn’t care if Joel seemed to be giving her the opposite at last. If you’re in trouble and it’s because of him she didn’t fucking care about anything else.

But then she pauses, just outside the door, hearing him cooing at you.

“Calm down honey. It’s okay, it’s me, Joel. Look at me, please.” He murmurs, crouched down in front of you but still giving you some space.

You had your arms raised in front of your face, legs tucked inward, trying to protect yourself from any potential blows, mind still loud and thoughts jumbled, but his voice suddenly helped to clear some of the fog.

You peered at him through the space between your arms and blinked the tears away as best you could.

“..Joel?” You croak after a moment, and he nods, a small smile blossoming on his lips.

“‘S me, sweet girl. Come here.” He opens his arms for you, and you shift closer, still timid and not making that final step.

He sighs softly, not disappointed or annoyed, just sad that your trauma managed to put you in this state.

“It’s just me, okay? It’s Joel, not.. not him. Look at my face, baby.” He whispers, and you do. Your dad wouldn’t call you baby or speak softly with you. Surely this man in front of you wasn’t him.

When you finally recognise him, you feel the tears blooming again, a small whimper escaping your throat before you’re crawling into his lap, clutching him tight. Still apologising, as always.

“Shh, it’s okay. What’s goin’ on, hm?” He says, voice gentle as ever as he holds you. He doesn’t squeeze you tight, or move in any way, he just lets you cling to him. He doesn’t want to suffocate you, knowing you probably already feel like you're drowning, barely tethered to him for support.

“Y-you don’t like me anymore.” You hiccup, and he shakes his head.

“No, sweetheart. Of course I like you. You’re my.. You’re my girl, yeah? Could never hate you.” He murmurs, brows furrowing. Why did you even think that?

“B-but you get on with Ellie way better now, and- and you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

He sighs softly. Ellie was.. A chatty kid. If she didn’t start all those conversations with him, he doubts he would’ve engaged with her nearly half as much as he did. He had grown to enjoy her ramblings, of course, but he was too stressed, anxious all the time on the road, to ever actually start the chats with her or you. He realises now how that would’ve looked to you, understands the emotional breakdown you’d just had, understands why you’d been so quiet recently.

You thought he didn’t want you anymore.

He gently pulls your head back, tilting it up so you could meet his eyes. His thumb catches a tear before it can fall and he starts explaining.

“Babygirl, I wasn’t not talkin’ to ya as much cuz I didn’t like ya. I was just stressed.. Too focused on gettin’ us across the country in one piece to worry about conversations. Ellie’s.. a bit of a chatterbox so of course I had to be respondin’ with her, but..” he trails off, guilt consuming him more and more as he tries to reason with himself. Yes he was nervous but that’s no excuse for the state his negligence has landed you in.

“Fuck, there ain’t no excuse, really. I just.. Please, please believe me right now. I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t hate you and I never ever could, okay?” He pleads, eyes searching yours for any sort of understanding or forgiveness.

He definitely doesn’t see hatred there like he’d seen when you first stormed up here, no, he just sees confusion, worry.

“You really don’t hate me? Even- even after I gave you so much attitude and I was shouting at you? Surely I deserve.. You shouldn’t be being nice to me…” You whisper, brows furrowing, confused at the fact someone was apologising to you. Normally you were the one apologising. He’d been the only person to ever show you compassion and understanding, and you thought, surely you’ve fucked it all up now.

He sighs again, shaking his head. “I could never ever hate you, honey. Never. No matter what you do or say to me, I can promise you hatred would never even cross my mind.”

You whimper again, nodding. “Okay.” Is all you can get past your lips, your body shaking with sobs again as he finally allows himself to hug you properly, rocking you back and forth and stroking your hair.

He isn’t surprised when you fall asleep like this, curled up in his arms. You’ve exhausted yourself in every way tonight, and you deserve a good, long rest.

He grunts softly as he stands up, still keeping you clutched in his arms as he makes his way to the bed and sets you down. He’ll take the couch, he figures. His back is fucked already.

But then you stir a little, blinking up at him as he watches you.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“Can.. can you please stay tonight? I just.. I’m…” You can’t get the words out, but he understands. He knows what you need.

He gets in beside you, kissing your forehead after you cuddle up to him and drift off slowly, blanketed by his comforting presence, your mind a little less stormy with his reassurances now there instead.

Sleep evades him for much longer, though, distant memories of Sarah swirling within his mind. He wonders what she’d think of him, of you, of the way he’s taken you in like this. Would she be proud? Would she be angry? Would she feel like he’s replaced her?

He shakes his head, knowing that those thoughts would just cause him to distance himself from you again.

He finally manages to fall asleep at 2am, dreaming of Christmas trees and a little girl with curly hair.

Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Tags - @tbeep @rosierogie @jjlevin @axshadows @pedropascalsbbg @pedroshotwifey @pedrosfanny @s0meoone

[writinginatree]

Kiss It Better

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/healer!reader

Summary: Bodhi shows up in the Healer Quadrant injured after a fight — again. With how often it happens lately, you're starting to suspect he's letting himself get hurt on purpose just so he has an excuse to come see you.

Dismissing your previous patient, you hurry on to the next. It's the day for challenges in the Riders Quadrant, which means even more of them are filling the beds of the infirmary than on normal days. Sure enough the person waiting on the next bed is dressed in black too, just like all five you'd treated today so far.

"What can I do for—" You break off when you actually look at the patient's face instead of just his uniform, and realize who it is sitting in front of you. "Bodhi?!"

"Hi, darling," your boyfriend greets you with a sheepish grin you don't return.

"What happened?" you demand to know instead. The only wound you can see on him is a small cut in his lower lip, but if that was all, he would've been turned away in favor of more seriously injured patients on such a busy day as this. "Is it bad? Show me where you're hurt!"

"It's not that bad," he assures you, and you relax a little, grateful he answered the most important question first. "Regular challenge, is all."

Still, his anatomical knowledge is hardly good enough to accurately judge if an injury is serious. He might think it isn't if it doesn't hurt much, but there are plenty of injuries that could be dangerous without feeling too bad.

"Show me!"

He lifts his shirt, revealing a fresh bruise blossoming across the side of his chest. "I think one or two of my ribs might have gotten cracked a little."

"Gods, Bodhi—"

"It's not that bad, really."

"Lie down and leave it to me to judge how bad it is. I'm the healer here, not you."

Bodhi does as you said, but can't stop himself from trying to soothe you. "Of course. I'm just saying, it barely even hurts. I wouldn't have bothered seeing a healer about it, but I knew you have infirmary duty today, so I figured—"

He interrupts himself with a hiss of pain when you touch your hand to the bruise, gingerly feeling along his ribs. There's some swelling, but no more than is normal for a bad bruise, and you can't feel any deformities from loose pieces of bone, either.

"Does it hurt when I press here?"

Bodhi nods, and you take your hand away, running it through his curls instead.

"How bad? On a scale of one to ten?"

"Six, maybe?"

"Okay... Take a deep breath. Does that make the pain worse?"

Doing as instructed, he winces. "Yeah, that hurts. But normal breathing doesn't."

You nod to yourself, already fairly certain it's just a small hairline break at the most. Painful enough, but by no means fatal.

As you continue to assess the severity of Bodhi's injury, your worry for him starts to ease, irritation rising in its stead. He's getting hurt much too often for your liking. It's not really his fault, you know, and it kind of comes with the job description of being a rider, but surely some of the injuries he has sought you out with could have been avoided if only he was a little more careful! Of course, it's not just him. After a year and a few months in the Healer Quadrant, you can confidently say that riders in general are reckless fools with zero regard for their own well-being — which is exactly why your fellow healer friends think you're insane for dating one of those daredevils with their thin-altitude-air-addled brains. While you love Bodhi dearly and wouldn't trade him for the world, your friends do have a point. Unlike you, your best friend never has to worry that her scribe boyfriend will wind up dead one day, nor does he add to the healers' already extensive enough workload by showing up injured every other day.

You shake your head at yourself. Now you're exaggerating. But Bodhi does make you worry a lot, and you can't even bring yourself to actually be mad at him for it. Not when he looks at you with that adoring smile, kissing your knuckles in thanks as you spread an ointment with a cooling effect over his bruised ribs.

"You're being careless lately," you say, the words coming out too softly to be taken as the accusation they're meant to be. "You never used to get hurt this often."

Bodhi just shrugs.

Having started dating at the end of your first year at Basgiath, you'd hoped to see less of him in your quadrant this year — as a patient, at least. But it seems second-year riders are no safer than their first-years. If anything, you've already seen more of Bodhi this year than you had in all your first year, though of course you hadn't payed as much attention to him then, so you might be misjudging.

You don't think you are, though. He's come seeking medical attention thrice in the last two weeks alone — conveniently always when you were on duty, you realize. You know he has your schedule memorized, so now that you think about it, it hardly seems like coincidence that every time he shows up it's when you're here. But it has to be, right? Surely he wouldn't be so stupid as to hurt himself on purpose just to see you... Right?

Faced with the way he's watching you — like a lovesick puppy, like you're the only thing in the world that matters — you're not so sure. It's true that classes and extracurricular responsibilities don't leave either of you as much free time to spend with the other as the both of you would like, but collecting injuries like this just for a few minutes more with you seems a little extreme.

And yet, you can't entirely put it past Bodhi. As a rider, extreme is kind of what he does.

Now that you've started thinking about it, you can't push the suspicion from your mind, so as you put the ointment aside, you decide to simply ask. "How come it's always when I'm on duty that you're getting hurt?"

Bodhi unsuccessfully fights a smile. "Luck?"

"Luck," you deadpan, now almost fully convinced he's been doing it on purpose. How fucking reckless can someone be?!

"Okay, you caught me. I might have been a little careless on purpose because I knew getting hurt would mean I get to see you."

"You're an idiot," you scold. "What if you'd gotten yourself hurt more seriously, huh? You won't get to see me at all anymore if you get yourself killed!"

"I wasn't that careless," Bodhi starts, but you're not in the mood to let him calm you down that easily.

"You can't control how badly someone hurts you when you let your guard down," you say. A look at the guilty look on his face has you softening a little. Cupping his cheek, you continue, "I wish we had more time together too, but I'd rather have you in one piece when I do get to see you."

Bodhi sighs. "I know. I'm sorry for being so reckless. Making you worry is the last thing I wanted."

"I know."

You peck his cheek, and reach for a cotton ball and antiseptic to disinfect Bodhi's split lip. He hisses at the sting, but you don't show any mercy until you're sure the cut is clean. A little pain now is better than possibly letting the wound become infected.

Bodhi gives you that adorable look you can never resist, tapping his bottom lip. "Kiss it better?"

You pretend to think about it, pursing your lips even as you want nothing more than to press them to his. "Only if you promise to be more careful," you finally say.

"Promise," he quickly agrees.

A little too quickly.

"I mean it, Bodhi. You've been lucky so far, but broken ribs aren't as harmless as you seem to think. If the fracture is bad enough the broken ends could pierce your lungs and kill you!"

He takes your hands, kissing each of your palms before answering, his voice taking on such serious a tone that you know he really means it when he says, "I'll be more careful. I promise. And I'm really sorry for making you worry about me."

You cup his face in both hands, tilting his head so you can press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thank you," you mumble, and kiss him again. When he tries to deepen the kiss into something hungrier, you pull back, mindful of the cut in his lip. You rub your thumb over it, a slight smile on your own lips. "Careful, love, or it'll start bleeding again."

"Worth it," Bodhi shrugs and tries to kiss you again, pouting when you stop him with a finger over his mouth.

"Nuh-uh. Let it heal a little, then you can kiss me all you want on our date tomorrow."

"One more kiss," he pleads. "Just a little one."

You peck his lips one, two, three more times, finally forcing yourself to take a step back.

"I'll be in trouble if someone notices how long I'm taking with you," you say apologetically. "There's other patients requiring my attention."

Bodhi nods. "Right. I'll leave you to it, then."

"Not so fast." You push him back into his seat, turning to search through a shelf until you find the little ceramic container of pills you're looking for. You hand it to Bodhi, along with the ointment you'd applied to his ribs. "Here. Take one of these if the pain gets too bad. You can have up to three a day, but never less than five hours apart, okay?"

"Got it. Thanks."

"You can be generous with the cooling salve, but you'll probably only need it the first few days. It's only a small fracture, so it shouldn't give you too much trouble, but you do need to take it easy for a bit. Do not give me that look, Durran. If you overexert yourself that'll only make it heal slower."

"I know, I know. But I can still participate in challenges and stuff, right?"

You sigh. "I'd appreciate it if you took a day or two to actually rest, without sparring or any form of physical activity, but after that, yes. It should be fine, so long as you don't overdo it."

"I'll take it easy," Bodhi promises.

"And make sure you get enough sleep. Sleep is essential for your body's ability to heal itself, just like good nutrition." Smiling, you add, "You can drop by next week so I can check the healing progress."

Bodhi smiles back, and, rising to his feet, steals another kiss. "Sounds good. Then I'll stop distracting you from your work now. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

[keelt9]

Paper 3

Masterlist

A/N: Happy New Year! 🥳 I’m sorry for the delay, but here is the final paper. 

The support has been amazing, I hope you enjoyed this, because I really have so much fun writing it. 💙

Thank you so much for reading.🍒

The first phase was quite simple, most of the work will be in charge of Isabell and Gonzalo; Max only has to focus on racing.

With the excuse that Gonzalo will cover the races after the summer break, he pretends to watch all of them; every Sunday his sister-in-law without knowing will be softly bombarded with images and the voice of Max.

As Isabell anticipated, the first months she fought for barely put attention to anything related too, until Brazil where after a few races where Max wasn't at the podium, he came back in an unbelievable drive.

"Are you sure she said that?" Max covers his left ear trying to hear among all the noise of the club.

Isabell sighs. "Max I was next to her, I swear she said that." 

Max smirks, unable to comprehend how a few words, not even from the person you want to hear, cause these feelings in him.

"I'm sorry but can you repeat it?" He sounds stupid he knows that.

"I told you, he won. He's totally unbelievable." Isabell said for the third time.

Max scoffs as he sees Daniel rolling his eyes among the crowd. 

"We're such good plan makers." Isabell giggles. "Keep enjoying the night Max, we're in contact."

However, the little elf always has her ways to take him by surprise.

After Qatar with the Champions secured Max is on cloud nine in less than a month he will meet her again.

After the celebrations Max leaves one day after.; with an awful hangover as goes to the airfield, Isabell's phone call distracts him from his headache.

"Isabell hi, wha..." She didn't even let him end the sentence.

"Hey, Max, by any chance is there something symbolic between you two?” Max can clearly hear, she closes a door.

“What?” He sat inside of his jet trying to forget the headache. “Partners in crime are supposed to tell even the smallest detail.”

Isabell chuckles. “You’re doing your part, this is on me.” The silence that follows from Max, was enough for Isablle speaks one more time.

“We need to do something. She's convinced of giving a chance to John." Max is dizzy but he never heard that name. 

He covers his eyes, trying to clear his head. "Who?"

"John, the boy I talked to you about." Max's mind clears, like someone throws at him a tray of cold water.

"The one who confesses..." He simply can finish that phrase.

"Yeah, that one." Isabell cleared her throat. "Listen, I don't know what happened but… Don’t worry, ok? Just give me something and I’ll be able to handle this.”

Max's head spins around this time, unsure if it’s totally for the alcohol or the way to remember something in this state is more difficult.

A couple of seconds later, he knows what to do. “Just make sure she sees a video when I tell you, ok?” 

“Am, ok?” Isabell is about to say another thing until Max hears Gonzalo calling for her with what you can hear a crying baby in his hands. 

“Let me take charge of this Isabell, I bet someone needs you more than me.” Max giggles.

“At this point I think both of you could need the same person. Wait a second.” Isabell mentioned, before screaming. “Hey! Sis! Someone is looking for you.” 

Isabell tends to do this for Max, if she can help him to hear her, she will gladly do.

“Hi, baby girl.” It’s still unusual to hear her, her voice doesn’t change so much, but you can notice, the little girl is already grown up. “Your dad is being bad with you?” 

Noah laughs. “Come on! When you’re here, she forgot she had lovely and amazing parents.” Gonzalo jokes making everyone giggle.

“Santa won’t bring you anything this Christmas.” Max smirks but even now, he refuses to imagine her, he wants to see her face to face. “Right Noah?”

“Do you mind? I have to make an important call, could you…” Isabell said like she isn’t in the middle of a call. 

She laughs. “Another one who won’t have a present under the tree.”

Isabell laughs as Max hears steps getting far away. “Sorry Max, but…”

“I let you know about the video, now go, I bet you’re in the middle of a reunion.” Max takes his bottle of water to open it.

“We keep in contact Max, thanks.” 

Max drinks his water with one thing in mind, he just needs to go back to the basics.

“What?” Max takes the things he will need for the video. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Abu Dhabi is the last race; with the Championships secured he is just there to enjoy what he can the last race. 

One of the girls brings a thermometer as the other girl grabs the phone trying to figure out what he just asked. 

“Come on, girls, this isn…” The other put the thermometer on his mouth, waiting with her arms crossed. 

“You think we should call a doctor?” The girl with the phone shakes her head. “He could have something contagious.” 

That makes everyone laugh as the beep announces it’s time to take it out. All normal, he doesn't have a fever.

“Ok, can you repeat it one more time Max?” Max scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I want to do the marketing thing, you know with all these.” The two girls looked at each other in disbelief. “Please.”

The girl with the phone speaks trying to find sense to all he’s saying. “It’s a Christmas thing, it’s originally planned for…”

“I know, but it’s been a tough year, it would be nice, right?” Max smiles at them. 

“Ok, likes are likes.” The girl with the phone gave him the last instructions before starting recording.

It’s a 30 second video that could easily be published without someone editing it, Max said what he must, however he put his little touch on it.

“Can I see it?” He asks by the time people start to spread searching for the next victim. 

The girl gives him the phone, as he nods.

Max has a Christmas hat and a pair of navy blue gloves. He wished merry christmas and a happy new year, full of love and peace hoping all their wishes make it true.

Waving both hands with gloves at the end of the video.

“That friend is that special, huh?” The girl asks him, seeing how his face turns in a soft pink. 

Max narrows his eyes, giving the phone to the girl. “You never wear gloves Max.” 

He opens his eyes, is that obvious? “I’ll let you know when we post it, I hope this works to get closer to her.”

Max takes the gloves and the hat, hoping the same. 

 >It works!

Isbaell texted him a day after the release of the video. She doesn’t have a clue of how but with the topic in the air about spending Christmas in Benasque like the old times, her sister agrees to go one more time.

Isabell by accident let her phone replaying the video as they were having lunch; that night her sister said the most simple thing.

“I want to go too.” Winning the eyes of all her family. “It would be nice, like when we were kids.”

That’s all Max needs, from that moment on, all is on him.

With a stunned expression from his family he let them know this Christmas he will spend it in Benasque.

“Max…” Victoria thought it’s the same reckless decision every year. “It’s been almost a year, and no one contacted you, so there is a big chance she has already forgotten it.”

Max shakes his head, taking another bite of his salad. “I know.” 

“Then why?” Victoria let her glass on the table loudly, making her brother look at her.

“I believe in the big guy.” Max points the fluffy toy of Santa Claus in the Christmas tree. 

Victoria covers her face, knowing this is useless like every year.

Max arrived one week earlier to make all the arrangements he needs, going one side to the other; a lot of the people of the town look at him like he’s totally crazy and other like he’s seeing the little kid who used to be dragged for his little friend as she they keep rambling about the most silly things.

As Isabell said, they arrived on the 22nd of December, the first day all would be casual, like years ago, just with a few people added to the plan.

His little elf spent the first day making a new tour, changing the order of a few places she used to visit, with different hours. In each one of them a warm welcome waits for her all saying the same, it’s nice having her here one more time.

The second day, she made a short one this time with baby Noah, showing the palaces where she and her mother used to play and spend time when they were kids.

Here is where the owner of the clockmaker's workshop made the special intervention, mentioning like some things are destined to be.

Finally the 24th of December it’s the day. 

“Are you sweating on the snow?” Louis asked him, waiting to make his special performance.

Max scoffs smiling, but yes, his hands feel wet. “A little bit?” 

Louis nods, as they sit in front of the big old clock. “Is she what the old people call, true love?”

Max narrowed his eyes, such a deep question for a 7 year old boy. “My mom said that from my dad and my dad said that from my mom. So I guess if you’re doing this for a friend, it must be, right?”

Max doesn’t have time to answer because the lady of the bakery appears on the corner with a beanie on her head, his little elf already passed by and bought her favorite cookie, white chocolate chips.

“That's my sign, good luck sweaty man.” Max giggles, if Santa can’t bring what he wants for Christmas, he and Louis' mother already made a deal.

Louis runs to the bookstore as Max runs to the other side ready to take his place.

Max can picture the sequence, Louis with one blue paper in his pockets, will found the girl wearing a blue navy coat and a cookie in her hand; he will wish her a merry Christmas giving her the paper, claiming if she wouldn’t mind to take this to the old clockmaker's workshop, knowing she’s stubborn for making people wish true, she would open it, and will read it.

 >Please go to the funny tree.

The funny tree is an old tree in the limits of the town, with a big twisted trunk and a lot of branches. Since they found it, swear in spring this must be insane, full of green leaves all over the place.

She will turn around to ask him how he knows but the kid will be running to the bakery for his dozen cookies.

Max moves around the tree with trembling hands pressing together, putting in his pocket just for a second later taking them out, unable to stay calm.

Not everything goes according to the plan.

Max hears a shaking breath while he is at the back of the tree, raising his eyes he finds her with a shock expression on her face. 

Max curses inside because he wants to surprise her.

“Little elf.” Max said feeling all the energy of his body drained in a couple of words.

She’s beautiful as always, the red tones of her face due the cold already there, her big eyes looking at him; her lips that used to be with a soft pink, now are a little bit red too. She’s taller, not more than him but the old little girl is far gone.

“Max.” She said as a smile formed in her face. 

Max, along 10 years, believes there isn’t another sound in the world that he loves more than her laughs. Now, the simple way his name sounds in her voice makes it a tough competition. 

She laughs at the fact Max is frozen in his place in front of a tree with Christmas lights around dry branches. Like always, she takes the initiative and runs to him to hug him standing in her tiptoes; her arms around his neck hiding her face on his shoulders. 

“It’s actually you.” Max's brain stops working and he curses himself inside, by the fact it took him 1 minute to move his arms around her waist.

It’s surreal having her one more time, like this.

“Fuck! I miss you like hell.” He said, hearing her giggling. “I’m so sorry for not coming that year but I was so busy, it was my big chance and all of us believe leaving the UK it's a stupid decision but I came the next year and you…”

She grabs his face, crashing their lips in a soft peck.

“Why do you always say so much when all you h..” Max doesn't waste any second more, he is sick of it.

He grabs her face but this time his kiss is demanding, showing how much he missed her all these years… and how much he loves her. 

With her face between his hands and a big smile on both faces, so close to each other, Max whispers to her lips.

“Like I suspect…” She narrows her eyes. “It’s always been you.”

She giggles, throwing her arms around his neck one more time. “What a relief because this will be so awkward.”

Max smiles, giving her a peck. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Louis is right, this is what true love feels; for Max, now has a name, Y/N.

Max nods repeating the name over and over again, like he could forget it. 

“You’re still frozen hands.” She said as Max put his hands in her pockets pulling her closer. “Can I ask you something?”

Max nods with a glimpse of fear in his eyes. “How?”

“12 paper wishes, a few streams, a reporter, a whole marketing team, a duo of helpers….” Max raises his eyebrows “And a baby.”

Y/N eyes wide open. “My sister? Do you… She isn’t…”

“She wanted me kind of far away…” Max sees her biting her lip. “I was willing to do it. I got it, she only wants the best for her little sister.”

“Although…” She raises her eyes and tingles her fingers with Max inside of her pocket.

“It took me a while, I'm not going to lie, I want to make sure to make the right decision for both of us.” The golden lights that reflected in her eyes made Max’s heart beat like crazy.

“Then I came back here…As you did after snowing in Rome, like me every Christmas, and I realized what you do, as always first.” It was a charming feeling having a clear image of the face from this wonderful woman sitting in front of T.V watching him race every week, probably rolling her eyes at every rage attack he had.

“That I love you.” A trembling breathing begins unsure from who came first.

“M..” He can't resist, having her so close it feels breathtaking. 

He takes one hand out of her pocket to grab her face and kiss her.

“Why? I mean how can you trust me so easily?" Y/N observe right to his eyes with a pledging expression.

Max licks his lips. "You didn't even know who I was and you kept encouraging me, you watched all my races, fought to keep all our promises, worried about me even in the slightest things... You keep me warm and make me believe in magic from an early age." 

Y/N chuckles as her free hand rests on his neck. "If that's not love, I don't know what the hell is that?" Y/N clicks her tongue.

"You could lie to me." Max laughs, resting his forehead against hers.

"Do you see that?" He closed his eyes after seeing the backpack next to the tree.”You’ll have a lot of red these days, believe me.”

“What?” Y/N perks at his back, seeing the black backpack.

“I’ll write to you every day.” The tears form in her eyes, Y/N swear Max moved on from this bond many years ago, this is something she didn't even dare to dream. 

“Or… You know, just in case I can steal you for a couple of days.” She grabs his jacket. “You could read it to me.”

Max remembers the day where they sat in front of the old clockmaker's workshop, as he read to her Christmas stories, with the firm purpose that a little of the Chritsmas spirit caught him.

“Deal.” Max sighs. “Do you think I can steal you for more than a couple of days?” 

Y/N raises her eyebrows tilting her head. “You  know…”

“I have never been to Monaco.” Max surrenders her waist with his arms giving her a peck.

“I can give you a small tour.” Y/N grabs his face, giving him a peck. “Let’s go, we’re on time.”

“For what?” Y/N careness his hair. 

“Write a wish for Santa Claus.” Max hasn’t realized it’s been a while he felt this way, so lighter and in calmness.

“In a pretty paper?” Max chuckles, nodding before pressing her against his chest, connecting two hearts. 

The old man observes the other side of the street, what used to be two small kids, one boy looking so marvelous to a girl who is writing every letter so carefully; now it turns into a man and a woman writing face to face with a smile stealing small kisses every time their eyes meet. 

He leaned on the counter next to the big Santa Claus. 

“It’s a secret between you and me, but let’s be honest, we started all this.” The old man smirks when he sees Max and Y/N folding their papers. “And your magic mailbox.”

They cross the street to open the red mailbox, put their wishes in, then waving their hands to the old man in his classic red velvet suit. 

Now they’re the young adults that go down the street holding hands hoping a Christmas wish comes true.

“Merry Christmas kids.” The old man whispers and sees Max’s left hand on Y/N pocket, as he takes the box inside. “Just a small glance.” 

The old man smiles while folding the papers one more time. These wishes…are so precious.  

[melliemell]

AAA OK, requesting Fyodor x his Mexican girlfriend, and how'd he'd spoil her, treating her like a princess. Mixing that with his Russian culture, And sharing cultural traditions/behavior and food,

I hope you like it! this was a wild ride of figuring out fyodor's character better

Fyodor Spoiling his Lover HC

The thing is… Fyodor’s emotions are a heavily guarded thing. He’s very unlikely to let his guard down enough to actually feel romantic emotions, instead opting for control of the situation to the smallest detail.

Man’s obsessed with predictability. Emotions are certainly anything but that.

Having said that, if Fyodor finds you of any convenience for his plans, well, he is completely willing to play the role of a loving partner far beyond your expectations.

Get prepared for chaos unleashed, babe.

Fyodor’s sense of normal human behaviour has long been discarded somewhere in between the centuries of his long life. And he does have a flare for the dramatic at times, so you’ll have to excuse him if he considers buying out an entire restaurant for your night out to be within reasonable etiquette. 

“A quiet, peaceful place to spend time with you is very dear to me, although I do apologize if it’s a bit over the top,” he’d say, smile in place as he regarded you with no true remorse whatsoever. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would win you over; he’d try to be more reasonable with that… this time.

And let’s never forget that statement from Asagiri that Fyodor’s the type to buy an entire country for his sweetheart. He’s generous like that. 

Fyodor’s quite traditional in his courting as well. He’s aware that it’s expected of the man in the relationship to take care of his partner; all the way from providing for them to ensuring protection (and he does have to be mindful of that, knowing how many people want him dead in particular). 

Fyodor’s a man of constant planning and action so staying in one place is rarely ideal. And keeping someone satisfied when you can’t be around them often enough brings about a challenge. So in comes his quite mindful gift-giving.

You see, he’s gotten very good at observing people to the point it’s barely any effort to understand their inner workings and desires. The moment he has you pinned down as an individual–he’d do and say exactly what you want of him just so he can have you wrapped nicely around his finger as you fall harder for him. 

Fyodor’d be perfect… until the moment you’ve run out of use for him. The mask would fall very quickly and with no remorse behind it. 

Unless…

Here’s the deal–Fyodor is a very tough nut to crack. Sorting through all the layers of deception and perfectly built walls of indifference will be one of the hardest things to pull off. 

But the man under all that would be so worth it. The loneliness that’s bound to reside within him would be the saddest thing to finally lay your eyes upon.

It’s likely you’ll barely even notice you’ve managed to get him smitten.

He won’t indicate in any way something has changed at first, being his normal self and keeping up the princess treatment as a safety measure.

But he’ll find himself coming up with more and more plans for getting you to move around with him. There will be notes of a possessive streak there, like trying to keep your favourite toy with you everywhere; that’s definitely what Fyodor’d be telling himself at least.

He’ll be quite unsure why he’d feel the need to call you sweet things in his mother tongue. It is certainly a romantic gesture, yes, but it had never crossed his mind before? But the sound of it now felt pleasant to his ears and seeing your confused but still smiling face every time brought an unexpected warmth to his chest. He’d hold onto it for hours, staring off at the ceiling instead of his computers. Just… thinking. 

Like opening a door to his inner world; the things that brought him some sense of familiar comfort. 

It won’t be long before he has you in the kitchen, trying his best to at least make you remember maybe one of his soup recipes from home. Extremely patient about the whole process, not really caring if it ends up botchered. So long as he keeps getting that same feeling of warmth inside.

Won’t even bat an eye if you tell him you miss home. Would find a way to readjust both of your schedules (you have the exact same one at this point, he’s not even ashamed) so you’d be flying back in no time. Rest is good for the mind after all.

Be warned–this man is not built for warm weather. Fyodor’s one afternoon walk away from a literal heat stroke. Mindfulness is cautioned.

Mexico has not been one of his typical destinations, but he’d be quite appreciative of the openness of the people there. 

Will absolutely not leave you out of his sight though, no matter what. Unfamiliar places are best left explored with caution, even if you reassure him you’d probably not have any problems here. He’d only nod understandingly, completely intending on doing as he planned either way.

Man’s stubborn, can’t change that.

So long as you went unaware of a few things here and there–all was going to be good. He’d sooner blow an entire nation up than let anything happen to you.

[moghedien]

Ok, that argument about Dr D (my favorite nickname for him) is cute and I’m also thinking about Cynthia saying that they are still the same people as they've been the whole time, they're just different to each other now. Glinda’s still being a dick and Elphaba’s still rightfully defending him but it’s different now

Yeah yeah yeah

in that instance its different now because they're still arguing basically who they would before but in a much more friendly way because Elphaba gets that Glinda isn't trying to be rude she's just ignorant and Glinda gets that Elphaba isn't trying to challenge her, she's just concerned about Dr Dilly getting the respect he should. Like they're not going to just stop and accept every little thing about the other person that they wouldn't have the day before, but they like get the other person now and why they do the things they do

(And low key now that I heard this little argument and knowing how this scene plays out, and seeing the deleted scene with the two of them in sorcery class, I wonder if Glinda thinks that Elphaba didn't choose her to save the cub)

ANYWAY, this kinda also gives me an excuse to bring up something I've been wanting to, which is the fact that basically from the Ozdust until the mess in the Emerald City, you see how they act doesn't really change but you can also see how they act with each other slowly meshing. You can see this in how they dress, even. Elphaba's clothes start to change some after Popular because of course, but its still very much Elphaba's style. She doesn't suddenly look like Glinda. But then look at what Glinda is wearing in One Short Day. With the little over jacket, literally the only thing that makes it something Glinda would wear instead of Elphie is that its pink and not black. She's also being influenced by Elphaba physically but is still very much Glinda.

Which is to say, they're still the same, but they're different with each other and you can tell that it was doing both of them so much good. They're becoming better versions of who they've always been because of each other. Elphaba was loosening up and being accepted and learning to have fun. Glinda was learning how to actually be a good person and for probably the first time had a friend that didn't just want to use her for their reputation and who she could genuinely rely on. Like, what we got was the BEGINNING of their relationship and it was clearly not without little arguments and squabbles, but it was doing both of them so much good.

And so imagine how much better they both would have been if they had never gone to the Emerald City and had been given a chance to like grow and learn and actually develop their skills before they had to make the choices they made at the end of this movie. Like, I genuinely think that if they had just had some fucking time, they coulda taken this shit down together so much easier and without so much personal heartache. The tragedy is that they weren't given any fucking time

[witchygagirlwrites]

Hank's Girl

Hank Voight x Reader

Blame @desimarie12 👀 and the 2 energy drinks i've had

You and Hank go to the police gala and run into your ex

Um steamy?!?! Companion piece to Really

Moving in with Hank was a big step. You hadn’t originally wanted to take it, not because you didn’t love him. You loved that man more than was reasonable but that was the house he bought with Camille, the one he raised Justin and finished raising Erin in. You felt like you were intruding on something deep but he was right in the fact that you were paying for rent and all utilities for a place you barely stayed at anymore.

It took you weeks to unpack and even longer to feel comfortable enough to say “Home” instead of “Hank’s” the most hilarious thing was the fact that considering you were friends with members of his unit that meant they now saw the inside of his home, something some of them hadn’t never really had happened. 

Tonight was the police gala. Of course the unit was expected to be in attendance. They all had the options to bring dates. Hailey was going with Jay, Kim with Adam and Kevin was going out with a nurse from med Alicia Jones. All the unit had the benefit of wearing their dress uniforms. You on the other hand ended up having to wrangle Alicia to go shopping with you to find a dress that looked presentable enough to be on a sergeant’s arm.

Hank was down in the kitchen waiting on you but you couldn’t get the damn zipper. “Ugh!” you hollered and heard his laughter drifting up the stairs “Sweetheart?” you grabbed your shoes and hoisted the hem of the dress in your hand to walk downstairs “I can’t get the zipper up any further”

You walked over to where he was sitting in a chair at the table and turned to sit in his lap. He chuckled, hands slipping up your hips before you felt the zipper easily tug up into place. “There ya go princess” you went to stand up and felt his hand slide across your ass so you looked over your shoulder at him and he smirked slightly. You shook your head and slipped your heels on then plunked the first one up onto his chest “Since you’re enjoying dressing me so much” 

He gave you a look that said to enjoy this while it lasted before tying your heel up your ankle then pressing a kiss to the top of your foot. He nodded towards the other foot “Let’s get that one down so we can get going”

You felt Hank’s hand on your lower back as you walked into the gala. Numerous cops filled the area along with their dates. You could’ve cared less about any of them,you were looking for your unit. You spotted Kevin first and tapped Hank’s side “I see the kids baby” he shook his head with a laugh like he did any time you referred to his unit as the kids considering you were in their age range.

He used his hand to guide you through the crowd, his gravel filled voice only having to let out an “Excuse me” once for people to get the point and move the hell out of the way.

When you finally got across to the rest of the unit you smiled when you saw them “My god you all look so good in your dress uniforms!” you complemented, looking them over then smiled at Alicia “And that dress looks gorgeous on you” 

They all thanked you in turn and Adam hugged you with one arm, whispering in your ear “It’s still weird at times seeing him smile” you slapped his chest playfully “Oh hush Ruzek” Kim shook her head as everyone started their own conversations amongst the group. You enjoyed any time you got to spend with them all, even at this stuffy of an event.

You were standing at the bar with Hailey and Kim. Kevin and Alicia had already called it a night but Hank had to stay longer so they were toughing it out with you. “It’s amazing seeing the change in him since he’s been with you” Hailey laughed and you felt a grin slip onto your face “I honestly never would’ve thought Hank Voight would be such a good man”

You heard someone scoff behind you and turned to see Detective Daniel Moore, a man you’d gone on maybe two dates with. “What was that?” Kim asked and he shrugged “Nothing, just bullshit hearing the three of you riding Voight’s dick so hard” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked and he smirked at you “At least with these two it’s not literal but damn you’ve fallen far” “You son of a..” you were interrupted by Jay’s voice “Hey, what’s going on over here?” 

“Ask Detective Moore” Hailey bit out and you stared him down, seeing if he’d be so brash in front of Jay. “Was saying it’s a shame three perfectly capable women having to ride someone’s coattails or well in Y/N’s case dick like Voights”

Adam appeared over your shoulder “The fuck did you say?” about the time you spotted Hank step up behind Daniel “I think you need to reconsider how you speak to my girlfriend and my detectives, considering I’d hold their records to yours any day” Hank lowered his voice before adding “and from what I’ve heard you didn’t have much dick to ride anyways boy”

Adam clamped a hand over his mouth but Jay straight up laughed as Daniel turned red and muttered something unintelligible before skittering away. Hank’s eyes were solely on you as he told everyone “Head home. We’re done here tonight” you heard a goodnight from everyone but you were here in place from the look in his eyes. Oh he was pissed by what Daniel had said, a lot more than he was showing.

You walked in the door in front of Hank and could damn near feel the anger rolling off of him. “Let’s go to bed” you offered and he shook his head “I’m gonna stay up a little while. You can head up” 

You shook your head and headed up to the room to change. You wanted out of the dress anyways. You got to the room before you remembered you couldn’t unzip the damn dress. “Hank!”

You walked back down the stairs and he was standing at the bottom of them “What baby?” you turned around “The zipper” he chuckled and you felt his hands on your back before the zipper gave way. Instead of heading up you let the dress fall down your body and pool around your feet on the bottom step. “That’s better” 

He let his eyes trail across your body, taking in the black lace set you’d been wearing under your dress before he nodded up “Head up to bed. I’ll be up in a little while” “Make me” you replied with a grin but saw his eyes darken and knew you’d found a new button to push “What was that?”

You took a step closer, kicking the dress out of the way and letting your clothed breast brush against the material of his dress uniform “I said if you want me to head up to bed then make me”  he shook his head, one hand coming out to wrap loosely around your throat “You already knew I was pissed baby. You’re really gonna be a brat?” you grinned at him and he shook his head “Of fucking course, you love this shit”

He turned you around on the stairs and slapped your ass hard enough a whimper escaped your lips “Get your ass up in that bed. I’m right behind you” you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you back against him and you could feel how hard he was through his dress pants and bit your lip as you rubbed your ass back against him, earning yourself another swat “Go”

______________

You felt his hands on your body the moment you crossed into the bedroom. One hand teased low, almost where you wanted it before slipping away “Since you want to be a brat help me get out of this damn thing”

You turned to face him and started to work on the buttons, your hands shaking slightly and he chuckled when he noticed “What’s wrong baby?” you swallowed hard and continued until you could push the shirt off of him. You started to run your hands over his chest but he shook his head “Didn’t say you could touch me yet”

Your mouth fell open in shock and he winked at you “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry” you let your tongue flick out to wet your bottom lip before your hands went to the zipper of his pants “Promise?” he grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a rough kiss “Don’t I always?”

You smiled into the kiss before you let your fingers work his zipper down, one hand slipping under his waistband to wrap around his hardened cock and he groaned lightly as he let one hand slip down to push your panties to the side, two thick fingers sinking into you “Hearing that asshole talk about you?” he curled his fingers and your hand stopped moving, going to his hip to hold yourself up “Like he could ever make you feel as good as I do?” he hit that spot inside of you and kept working at it until your legs started to shake and the only thing keeping you upright was his other arm around your waist “Go ahead baby” he whispered and you felt your orgasm hit you, your thighs clenching around his wrist as you sagged against his chest. “I’m gonna make sure by the end of the night that you won’t even recognize him if you see him again” he promised,pushing you back onto the bed “You want me to do that pretty girl?”

You nodded “Please?” he smiled “I love you beautiful” “I love you too Hank” you whispered as he shook his head “My damn little brat” before shoving his pants off his hips. You laid back on the bed and let your legs fall open further and he groaned “Gonna be the fucking death of me yet”

[mini-ism]

u need to stop or I'm gonna start brainrotting abt anton too- goofy ass that would unironically say 'rizz' like he's lowkey completely unaware just how good he fucks

I CANT HELP IT PLEASE !!!! im sending anton brain zaps ur way (with love)

he’s leaning in the threshold of the door like an annoying gnat, bringing his “bro” (that god damned jackhammer) up to look at. he says something about “rizz,” which makes you roll your eyes. he’s boasting to you about how many reps he did before, proudly showing off his muscles. if he flexed his biceps any further they might just pop, but they were undeniably huge.

and it only gets worse after your first night with him.

that night, he was all over you, hoisting you up against a wall. your legs were wrapped around his waist, and for once both his hands were on you (bro was nowhere to be found, thank god). his pace was brutal, his body entirely smothering yours. he held you up like it was nothing, smirking about his 200kg bench press, “if i really pushed myself, maybe i could lift more.”

bragging right in your ear, those abs pressed right up against you, that evil pace fucking the wind out of you, you couldn’t last long. anton was murmuring against your neck, kissing along it with small praises and a spoken “that feel good?” of course it did, with a dick like his.

the morning after on the construction site, he was sitting cross legged, hunched over his precious bro. anton was whispering about his sexual endeavors with you. you could overhear him asking the jackhammer questions, the buzzing of the drill providing him with a satisfactory answer. maybe he uses the drill as an excuse to tell himself what he wants? or he could just be psychotic.

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 9 His Side Story

Chapter 8

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

It didn't particularly mean anything.

Emma: Living God, what are you… doing…?

Azel: Do I have to explain everything to you? What on earth is inside that head of yours?

The woman, back in her skimpy harem outfit, coughed, so I pulled her arm and drew her in between my knees.

I hugged her from behind because I couldn't bear to see her goosebump-covered skin.

(I don't want to use these hands, but…)

Emma: A-Are you...warming me up because I'm cold...?

Azel: Yes, it's a paid service.

Emma: Then I'll pass!

I used my leg to pin down the woman who tried to slip from my grasp as soon as I hinted at money.

Our bodies pressed closer together, and I unconsciously caught my breath at the sensation, different from what I had imagined.

(...I didn't know you were this soft.)

(Are all women like this? This feels good— No.)

(No, what am I thinking?)

Azel: You're cold, aren't you?

Emma: I am cold… but…

Azel: Then give up some of your money.

Emma: Your idea of "some" and my idea of "some" are different!

Emma: Besides, this isn't a normal amount of distance!

Azel: Huh? A normal distance?

Emma: People who are just acquaintances don't do this sort of thing.

Azel: Is that so?

(Then how do people in general keep warm without a blanket or anything to wear on top?)

The woman turned sideways and looked up at me.

When I maintained an indifferent attitude, she fell silent for some reason.

As if to say that the God who had shown mercy was the strange one....

Emma: ...Yes, it is. I think most people would misunderstand.

Azel: Why?

Emma: ...Eh, why?

Azel: I just took the simplest and most efficient method.

(There's no way she could misunderstand.)

(Rather, if she misunderstands this, it's stretching it too far.)

Emma: You're...strange, Prince Azel.

Azel: Is that sarcasm?

Emma: No, it's not...

Emma: You say "it would be troublesome if you fell in love with me," yet you have a strange sense of distance...

Emma: I'm surprised because you do a lot of things that people normally wouldn't do.

(...)

(Certainly, people normally wouldn't.)

At the very least, if it were anyone else in front of me, I wouldn't care if they were cold or whatever.

Normally, I would just leave them alone and not show any mercy.

Even if I were paid, I would be reluctant to take them into my arms.

Yet, for some reason, I didn't feel any discomfort with this woman.

(...I'm just losing my mind.)

*flashback*

Emma: ...That's not very fair.

Emma: The Living God answers the prayers of the people, but the prayers of the Living God do not reach the people.

Emma: Then I wondered who would help the Living God...

Emma: When I thought about it like that, I realized that I was the only one who could do it, so I couldn't bring myself to blame you.

*flashback over*

(It was unusual.)

(A woman who tries to help a God, instead of praying to one.)

At that moment, I couldn't think of anything witty to say.

I only remember the strange feeling that my heartbeat had quickened a little.

Azel: ...Because I'm a God.

I was hesitant to put those reasons into words, so I gave the most banal excuse.

Emma: No wonder you're so out of touch with the world—

Emma: Ow, ow, ow!

Azel: After all, that was sarcasm about me being naïve, wasn't it? You've got guts.

I pinched her cheek mercilessly. Her soft cheeks, unlike my own, were somehow addictive.

Azel: How much should I charge you for compensation?

When I threatened her, the woman shook her head and curled up in my arms.

(I admit it wasn't normal.)

(But it couldn't be helped. There was no other way.)

Azel: –...I just did it because you looked cold.

Silence filled the air.

She was usually boisterous, but at times like this, she would always clam up.

(This is incredibly awkward...)

The woman's ears were turning red.

Watching her, I felt as if it was contagious.

(...Damn it, I'm getting hot too.)

(...I need to change the subject...)

Azel: The aphrodisiac...

Emma: What is it now!?

Azel: Why are you snapping at me?

Emma: I'm not snapping. I'm just renewing my determination to get used to your eccentricities, Living God.

Azel: Whatever, it seems the effects have worn off.

Emma: Ah, you're right. When did that happen...?

Azel: That was careless. I was almost attacked.

Emma: Even if a natural disaster occurred, I wouldn't attack you, so please rest assured.

Azel: That's debatable.

Emma: Did you know? In the real world, that's called being conceited—

Emma: Ow, ow, ow, ow!

Azel: Your mouth is in top form today, isn't it? I look forward to your additional payment.

Emma: I'm so-rry!

(She's got quite the mouth on her...)

(...It somehow irks me that you wouldn't attack me.)

(No, it's not that I want to be attacked.)

(...What is this unpleasant feeling that's been going on since earlier?)

I pinched her cheek and turned away.

I didn't feel like I could look directly at her.

(Damn...why do I have to go through this?)

.

.

.

Chapter 10

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[sschizoid]

Tulpar crew babysitting…

ive got you pookie ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

--

curly

is so honored that he was chosen to be entrusted with the care of something as delicate as a baby. always wanted to be a dad, but never quite found the right person to settle down with. but doing this is kind of reigniting that old baby fever he thought he'd forgotten about all those years ago. maybe someday

loves to play, especially with his hands. peek-a-boo, patty-cake, and finger puppets are his go-tos, as he thinks teaching creativity and engaging the imagination through just means of your person can make for a healthy mind

singing is also something he loves to utilize, but he doesn't go for the predictable options like your ABCs or wheels on the bus. no, right now, he's got himself an audience, one that can't tell him to keep it down or that his music taste sucks, and he's going to take advantage of that. he's singing the beach boys

jimmy

would ideally never be in this situation to begin with. cannot fathom why anyone would think to trust him of all people to care for a baby when he can hardly even care for himself

if he does somehow get swept into it, whether it be by the will of god or some other foreign wind of change, he will do the absolute bare minimum. throws the kid in a playpen with some toys and sits back while enjoying some television. probably puts on some trashy animated show that's definitely not made for infants, but all they care about is the moving pictures and fun colors, right? everything else is subjective

texts every 45 minutes asking for updates on when parent(s) will be home, because he kind of has somewhere he needs to be in an hour (lie). also he dug around in the fridge a bit and ate some leftovers but re-positioned the remaining amount in the tupperware in an attempt to make it look like he didn't. also, he's getting paid for this, right?

anya

she's never really interacted with kids before, let alone a baby. she's trying to find a polite way to decline, but takes too long in trying to come up with an excuse and eventually just agrees

read a whole bunch of parent blogs 20 minutes before coming over so she could know what to expect. the only information she retained was that babies like to be talked to. she's professional and talks to them like she would a coworker at the watercooler. baby seems into it, though?

feeling confident after making the baby laugh, but she doesn't want to risk losing the progress she's made by trying something wacky. baby likes talking— maybe likes books, too? she brought her homework just in case she wanted to do some studying, and decides to read the articles from her textbook aloud. it works like a charm, though the baby falls asleep soon after. maybe the subject matter was too boring?

swansea

hell. no. he spent over a decade of his life combined dealing with rugrats, what makes you think he'd want to go back to that? he did his time and then some, his sentence is served

the only circumstance where he'd agree to babysit is if it were to do his own kids a favor. they're around that age, getting their lives together and starting families, so he could swallow his pride every now and then and play the role of "grandpa," for a bit. even if the title seemed unearned

but being a grandfather kind of makes him reflect. makes him realize he probably wasn't there for his kids nearly as often as he should have been. he wasn't a good father to them, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he's thankful they made out alright in the end. he feels a pang in his heart when he looks into the face of the baby and realizes it has his nose

daisuke

OF COURSE he'll babysit, are you kidding? he's always wanted a little sibling to instill his personality and interests into, and this, while not the perfect opportunity, was probably the next best thing

brings over all of his favorite toys from when he was a kid. hot wheels, tech decks, legos, the works. tries to teach the baby how to do a kickflip with the tech deck, but they keep trying to eat it. that's cool too, he can maybe understand the appeal. it kind of looks like an eclair if you squint really, really hard and hold it really, really far away

babysitting is also the perfect excuse to watch cartoons without the fear of being judged by boring people, so he's got that shit running the whole time. nothing too babyish (he wants to enjoy himself too, after all), but still has loads of bright colors and the occasional catchy musical number that will most certainly follow him home that night

--

hope these are sufficient ! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

.......i'm admittedly a bit backed up at the moment but rest assured I'm POWERING THROUGH YEAAAHHHH 💪