#everyone else should post their man butts !!

[madebysimblr]

~Happy Man Butt Monday feat. Alex~

and jumping on that list 5 facts about a sim thing I've seen going since I opted to start mid Sorella n Alex's relationship. give u a bit more about the manz.

Drinks tea in the morning, not coffee. Is sensitive to caffeine (delicate)

His father died when he was a kid, and as said his mother died a couple years ago in current time. Takuya is the strongest family tie he has now.

Works as a budget analyst 🤸‍♀️ Between that well paying job, and inheriting his parent's fortune when his mother died- that's where his wealth comes from.

Another reason he wants to pay for things is simply b/c he doesn't want Sorella to stress about money.

Met Sorella at her work, she hit on him first, he immediately asked her out.

Bonus fact no. 6, has been skiing since he learned to walk. But doesn't get to do it as much these days. Just too busy :((

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. vi

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 2.8 k

warning : argument, mentions of cheating, negative depiction of wooyoung, mentions of loss, calling an adulteress an assortment of names, idk what else tbh lmk if there is anything else I should add

a/n : I FINALLY UPDATED !!!!! this chapter might be slightly shorter compared to the others but trust me when I say it's very much intentional because I just want to focus this chapter on this one specific interaction. some sort of catalyst or like break from the obliteration of pyp!woo's image ig lmaooooo BUT YAY I DIDN'T FORGET TO POST PYP THIS MONTH !!!!

buy me coffee ?

After the fiasco that was your unveiling of a VERY important information about a staff of the academy, Wooyoung was immediately pulled in to get his side of the story. And of course, unfortunately, you. Luckily, you didn't get chastised by anyone because you were CLEARLY the victim in this situation. Heck, the HR team even reached out to apologize to you for the inconvenience you experienced due to their staff's "misconduct" because you're one of the founders's wives. It was an interesting way of saying that their staff is a cheating whore without any redeeming value but you'll take what you can get out of them and the situation. Which also includes his own friend group contacting you every now and then to make sure that you are okay and some (Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho) even going as far as swearing to denounce their familial relations with Wooyoung which was sweet.

Speaking of Wooyoung, he had been shoved into the heap of horseshit that he had piled on himself. You honestly have never seen him so down because he was "suggested" to take an extra two weeks of break to "settle down from the issue" which was really code for HR still having to clean up his mess because Harin decided to not go quietly. From what you heard from a reliable source (Jongho over pastry and coffee after he ditched his vocal classes to gossip), Harin came back the day after she officially got fired and made a ruckus. Literally, she went crazy and made a mess of the lobby; throwing chairs and tables around, scattering pamphlets, breaking vases, and screaming random weird things like how the company is a misogynist for firing a woman for something that was beyond her control. Safe to say, because Harin refused to move to a quieter spot, Hongjoong had to step in and reiterate all the mistakes she had made including but not limited to her having an affair with a married man who was her boss. Hongjoong had even told her that while there was another party involved, another party that acknowledged the mistakes that he had made and agreed to accept whatever disciplinary actions were required, it was also her choice to partake in such behavior. Long story short, a student uploaded the whole thing on YouTube and as of today, there were 15 different TikTok remixes ranging from EDM, screamo, and even a Donald Trump edit. Without Jongho pointing it out, you could imagine that Harin's career in South Korea was over, not because of the cheating, but because of her disorderly conduct.

You found yourself spending time rather peacefully in recent times which was surprising since your house seems to always be in a state of chaos. For once, Wooyoung didn't try to make you talk to him or about him. In fact, he had the decency to be very considerate of you and your feelings, particularly about being in the same room as him. It made you feel slightly bad to be honest because although you both were going through something, he was in the middle of being the butt of the joke and jab by everyone at the company. It was sad and pathetic but also very much deserved. Sure you sometimes found his isolation to be sad, pathetic, and downright pitiful, but then you remember what he did and you remembered how he put himself in that position without even considering the repercussions.

The same could be said about Dayoung. Well, only in the sense of her isolation seemingly from the rest of the world. Your outgoing, extroverted daughter seemed to spend a good chunk of time locking herself inside her room after school. Usually, you would have to turn into a negotiator three times a week just to get your daughter to come home right on her curfew. This time around, you had a worse time trying to get her out, even making her run some errands just so she could get some fresh air. It wasn't until a while later that Wooyoung clued in on why Dayoung was acting like that. The way you went off on Wooyoung for breaking the news in such a manner without you present or even consulting you. You did try to understand that maybe he just... slipped or that he was so emotional that it just slipped out but the point stood that he waited until you were trying to piece things together to finally tell you. Yet another secret he kept from you. Considering the frequency of things he said but hid away from you, you had to think if this was some sort of behavioural pattern that he hadn't exhibited even if you both had been married for quite a long time. Maybe he had became a master a suppressing it and all it took was you forcing the truth out of him to make said behavior to come back to the surface.

On the other hand, Woohyun was turning into a more mature and responsible version of himself. the day you both came home from confronting the slut, Woohyun became so very helpful towards you. The first thing he did was took your bag and brought it over to the kitchen table before he dashed to the bathroom to wash his hands, cleaning himself up before you had to tell him to. Then he made himself very available for you by making sure that he spent almost every single waking or available moments with you. When you;re in the kitchen doing the dishes or cooking, he would be on the counter or the dining table doing his homework. Sometimes he would even try to do chores like one time he tried to help you bringing his sister's laundry basket from the second floor and he ended up scattering everything down the stairs. Woohyun was upset and worried that you would be mad but instead, you laughed it up and helped him clean up before teaching him how to carry items that are heavier than him down. Although you couldn't find it in yourself to bring it up in case you ended up accidentally telling him yourself, you had a feeling that Woohyun was trying to distract you from the reality of what was going on with your husband in his own way. One of the things that solidified your assumption was the fact that Woohyun had limited contact with his dad significantly. The two of them used to spend time together playing games or pulling pranks on one another and even on you or Dayoung but he had suddenly refuse to spend elective time with Wooyoung no matter how much Wooyoung tried to negotiate with him with everything that he got. Despite that, Woohyun dudb't lose respect for his dad.

"Mom?"

You almost dropped the plate you were washing when you heard a voice come up from the doorway. It was surprising to see Dayoung standing there, timid like a deer because she was always happy, lively, and rambunctious, even straight-up disrespectful to you, your space, and your boundaries. But never this. She had been so... quiet for a week and it would've made you freak out had it not been for Wooyoung letting you know that Dayoung knew. That was all he said, she knew. You did not know what had gotten over you to not deck Wooyoung right then and there but he should absolutely consider himself a lucky bastard.

The sight of your own daughter standing there made you feel... anxious. You probably (most likely) should not be afraid of a bitty teenager, but how can you not? It's not like you thought that she was going to attack you or worse, ask you to give Wooyoung a sponge bath. But you just never saw your daughter this... Muted. It was as if she had stepped into an old TV where there was nothing but black and white. You silently wished that Woohyun had not gone to the zoo with his playdate friends because he would be a great buffer. Or witness for whatever that was bound to happen.

"D-do you need help with the dishes?" She asked, stepping closer to you slowly. At first, you were surprised, not exactly expecting that the first thing she would say was an offer to help you with a chore. But, you welcomed her with a smile and nodded, stepping to the side so she could come next to you and start wiping down the washed dishes.

There were no words exhchanged between the two of you for the first five minutes or so but it wasn't awkward. It was the first time that the silence was peaceful when it was just the two of you. Usually, the silence would always only come from Dayoung and it was because she was mad at you for something. Not at you and Wooyoung, just you. You were always the receiver of her animosity even when she was mad at her dad for whatever insignificant reason there could be, but this time was different.

"Mom..." she called you suddenly but what came next surprised you instead, "I'm sorry," she started, not looking at you which was unfortunate because you were staring at her with a very priceless dumbfounded expression. "I- I- what?" "I'm sorry for... This, my part in... Whatever's going on with you and dad. I'm really sorry for making you take care of him. Had I known, I wouldn't have made you take him in," she confessed and you could see that she was starting to tear up. Your heart broke and you really wanted to pull her in and give her the biggest hug that you could muster just to show your support for her but you knew that it would just make yourself feel better for accomplishing something and not actually help her feel better. So you took a step closer to her and breathed out a sigh of relief when she didn't push you away. "I'm really, really, REALLY sorry mom. He's the worst husband ever," she sniffed which made you chuckle as you blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, "Well, I would say that Emperor Peter, Catherine the Great's husband is a far worse husband than your father."

Your attempt at making light of the situation was met with Dayoung squinting her eyes at you. "Mom, I'm serious. I've heard about my friend's dad cheating but not like this. Not in your situation, and not with someone dumb enough to think she can substitute a hand wrap for martial arts with boob tapes," she scoffed, annoyed. You sighed and shrugged, "Well, people are complicated, sweetie. I... I'm not mad, annoyed, or angry that you wanted me to take care of your dad because, in retrospect, it WAS the absolute right thing to do. I mean, your dad was injured and he's facing such a hard time at work. It would be absolutely wrong to just toss him to someone else. Who would we even toss him to? His friend? His parents?" "His whore, mom. We could've tossed him out and have his whore handle him."

The very second the words left Dayoung's mouth, your eyes widened and your neck snapped in her direction to see her frowning, staring up at you. "He's a cheating bastard and we have the right to not even be in contact with him anymore," she curtly stated. "Jung Dayoung," you started shakily. Dayoung simply shook her head to cut you off, "No, mom, oh my God, you need to stop being a doormat." "Dayoung!" you exclaimed, surprised that she was able to say such a thing and perhaps slightly offended. "It's true! God, mom, how long have you known that he has a side piece who's as dumb as a bag of rocks? How long have you held everything in and just let him walk all over you? He fucking CHEATED on you mom! When you were so down in the dumps to the point that you couldn't even take care of yourself properly! You used Woohyun and I as a distraction, shoving all the attention and care to what, fill in the void over the loss of my would've-been sibling? And where was he? He was with some other woman because he is the worst of the worst and I will never forgive him for what he did to our family!"

Maybe it was the volume of her voice or the massive weight of her words but you felt your blood boiling and before you even realized it, you had shoved a plate into the sink and you were huffing, "Jung Dayoung that's enough, you should not talk about your father that way." "Why? Why shouldn't I, mom? My God, this is the first time in like, maybe ever that I'm standing up for you, this is me protecting you and yet you're still trying to make excuses for that pathetic son of a bitch who betrayed his family!?" "He did not betray our family, okay? He betrayed me, Dayoung!"

Just like it was the first time Dayoung defended you, you had experienced your first time screaming at her and to say that she was scared was an understatement. Dayoung shut her mouth and stared at you with sadness in her eyes because she had yet to comprehend why you were still trying to stand up for your cheating husband.

"Your dad did nothing to our family, sweetie. He did this to me," you sighed, closing your eyes and exhaling shakily as you used both of your hands to hold onto the counter to stabilize yourself. "Sure, he might have altered the dynamic and whatever else in our family but he... What he did was nothing against our family but it was just against me. At least, that's what I think. I don't think I have it in me to find out exactly why he did what he did because I'm weak, Dayoung. I'm a coward like that." you turned to her and shed a tear, breaking Dayoung's heart as she realized just how strong you were all this time.

"Then why, mom? Why are you still letting him off?" Dayoung asked, her voice cracking. You tearily chuckled and shrugged, "Who said that I am? I'm doing this, ALL of this, not because I want to. I did it, because for the longest time, that was what we have agreed on in our marriage. He deal with the monetary stuff and I deal with the family stuff. As much as it hurts, no matter if I like it or not, he is still my family because his behavior be damned, he... He gave me you and your brother and that is something I would never regret. For that, I will always be thankful to him and that is also why you should still respect your father. You can be mad at him, you can be hurt by what he did, but your respect should be non-negotiable not because he deserved it, but because your dad an I taught you better than that. He truly loves you, Dayoung. He might not love me anymore but you and Woohyun are the apples of his eyes, you are his stars in the dark night sky, and you are the best thing he had and would ever achieve. Do you understand me?"

Dayoung groaned and dropped her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist. "Damn it mom, why do you have to make it hard for me to unleash my wrath on him?" You couldn't help but chuckle and return her hug, "Sorry sweetie, part of my job is to make sure you grow up to be a decent human being and sometimes I have to make or say things you don't like," you chuckled, making Dayoung roll her eyes but nudge her hips with yours.

As you spend a heartwarming moment with your daughter, you can't help but let your mind slip and travel somewhere else. You couldn't help but think about how you and Dayoung would probably not have experienced such a changing moment in your life. So as much as you hate it, there was a silver lining in this whole shenanigan.

Beyond the heartwarming scene in the kitchen, alone in the dark and cold emptiness of the living room, Wooyoung stood with his back to the wall. Having come down when he heard the commotion, Wooyoung initially thought he might have to step in to get Dayoung off your back. But when he heard you yell back at Dayoung, he stopped in his tracks and debated If he should stay or leave until his interest was piqued and he ended up listening in on the conversation which left him feeling broken down. Despite the gnawing pain that made him feel like he couldn't breathe, he knew he deserved that and more. He should not complain and instead, he should just accept the harsh truth. Not just the facts that you laid out to Dayoung, but also the truth that your action further proved that he was truly the devil in this equation. And perhaps he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.

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[moriwood]

Speakeasy Serenade — s.jy

sim jaeyun x male reader fluff 1k words

As the token gay guy in your circle of friends, going out drinking just means your friends talking about their boyfriends and you pouring out advice. Tonight you meet Jake, who seems to find you prettier than anyone he has met before.

includes: supportive friends (from ive) :D, fluffy college gaes, art guy meets math guy warning: n/a

You casually take a panoramic video for the mandatory social media post, swiftly scrolling through the tables of students your age to the blinding neon signage flaunting the swanky bar you’re currently lounging at. The discordant yet inviting noise of the people chattering and the unrecognizable generic house music coax you to saunter into the beat of the crowd, to melt into its blur and comfort, to lose your inhibitions along your fading sobriety.

The girls are once again enumerating their recent trysts, Wonyoung’s sophomore athlete, Yujin’s substitute instructor, and another childhood friend of Gaeul somehow suddenly coming back. They seek your counsel, begging for romantic advice as if you have any experience under your belt. You don’t, and all you have for reference is your BLs and fan fiction.

“Let’s talk about you now, got anything going on?” Gaeul drawls towards you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, cheek leaning on the back of her hand.

“You should be the one with the most stories here,” Yujin jests, roughly grabbing both of your hands. “You know, Wonyoung’s boyfriend says there’s a gay guy in their team,” she slurs, “she can make him set you two up."

You chortle, “I’m not interested, I’m already satisfied with seeing you all find your guys.”

They teasingly coo at you, patting your head and such. Wonyoung sternly looks at you though, muttering, “but we’d also be happy with you finding your man, okay?” 

You respond with a weak smile. As you inhale the temporary comfort from Wonyoung, your eyes meet a man a couple tables over, in his early 20s you presume, probably a senior from your university. For a second, the man seems to be caught off-guard, yet he quickly recovers with a blinding smile that could only compare to the sweltering of your summer breaks. 

The warmth of the bar could only get so much warmer for a usually cold man like you.

Your palms feel clammy as you fail to immediately break off eye contact, and now the man’s walking towards your friends’ table. The man is handsome, really handsome, and about the same height as you, maybe a little taller. Some less alcohol could have probably given you a wider vocabulary to describe the scene. He blends so well with everyone else, yet he just stands out. 

“Hey, have we met before?” he boldly asks, the conversations on your table abruptly stopping. All eyes are now on the man, and you hear your friends murmuring behind you. His gaze burns you.

“I don’t think our friend here remembers,” Gaeul butts in, noticing you struggling to find your words. Yujin cackles, gripping on Wonyoung’s thigh.

“No, I don’t think so,” you stammer, finding a familiar seal stamped on the guy’s varsity jacket. “Although it’d be safe to assume you’re also from…”

The man deeply chuckles, head tilting back as he holds onto your shoulder, veins running along his arm, Adam's apple bobbing… Damn. “You don’t know how happy I am to find out we go to the same university,” he chimes. “Ladies,” he glances at your friends, “would it be alright for me to borrow your friend?”

“You can even take him home!” Yujin cheers. “We’ll be here waiting for you,” Wonyoung looks at the man up and down, then whispers, “or maybe not.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, they tend to get rowdy when they get tipsy-”

You lose your lousy apology as he pulls you away into the parking lot, where the bar’s house music is instead replaced by the live music from the open lounge across the alley. The new vibe sobers you up, the silence being filled by the strumming of an acoustic guitar and the late night hustle and bustle. Your gut says that the man was about to do something foxy but then you see the man clumsily sit on a curb.

“Uh, I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” he awkwardly clarifies out of nowhere.

You furrow your brows in amusement, “I didn’t think of that-”

“And I forgot my name! Jake. Hi, I’m Jake,” he swiftly puts out his hand, withdraws it, then puts it back out like a malfunctioning robot.

You couldn’t stop yourself from giving a hearty laugh as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Jake,” you chuckle, giving him an uncoordinated handshake. As opposed to his confident and suave demeanor from earlier, he now gives off a more tame, and in fact, quite nervous, aura.

“So, you’ve got a habit of leaving your friends and pulling strangers out of bars?” you tease, sitting down on the curb beside him. A gust of night wind hits the both of you, tousling Jake’s hair to a fluffy mess. He looks like a puppy, you thought.

Jake grins, running a hand through his hair. “Not usually, uh, no. I just… I saw you and knew I had to take the chance. My friends won’t notice I’m gone.” He earnestly looks at you, and flutters bubble deep in your chest. “So, uh… What’s your major?”

“Creative writing,” you reply, “it’s a small community. And you?”

“Math,” he hesitantly replies, almost ashamed. “Kinda boring for you, huh?”

“Hey, there’s beauty in math too,” you contemplate, searching across the theorems and concepts you’ve heard in your mandatory math classes the past few years. The conversation flows as the two of you share the intricacies of your majors, as if you were already plotting a shared future together in your careers.

“Like the golden ratio,” you remember, eyes on Jake’s finger mindlessly drawing circles on the back of your hand. “Turns out there’s a mathematical reason why I find some artworks more pleasing than others.”

Jake’s eyes light up. “And I’m looking at a breathtaking work of art right now.”

You find yourself at a loss for words, looking back at Jake. “That was smooth.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself,” Jake smiles, tilting his head like an apologetic puppy. You just want to pat his head so bad. “Gotta use all my pick up lines now before I regret it.”

“You’ve got a lot more opportunities to use them,” you reply, belatedly realizing what your response implies. “If you wanna go out with me sometime,” you add. You don’t want to say goodbye yet, and Jake seemed to feel the same thing.

Jake eagerly nods as he fishes his phone out his pocket. “I’d like that. In the daytime, on campus, with no alcohol?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I’d like that too.”

author’s note: hi hello to myself, imma pretend i didn’t go away for six months 😚😚 here’s a nothingburger of a fic as a comeback HEHRTHDHGFHA 🎉 shitty thumbnail i made exposes when i started writing this 💀 also realized i always got my peeps in a college age setting, rly need to broaden my horizons for d next fic wuhnuweuwhheuw

— moriwood.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's Rebecca Black day

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As expected, your mother is waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not often you’re at the mercy of her disapproval but she has some choice words for both you and Roxie.

Why didn’t you call? You forgot to, everything was so chaotic. Why would you make me worry like that? You know how I am, it isn’t fair to not answer your phone. I was about to call the police. You’ve heard the same aimed at your sister dozens of times but it’s much different to be at the end of it. 

Once she’s done and you feel thoroughly guilty, you retreat to your room. That’s all you wanted. For the last day, all you wanted was to hide away. Yet, now that you’re safely behind familiar walls, you still feel unsettled. 

That’s enough excitement for a lifetime. How does Roxie think that is fun? It’s terrifying. 

You take out your laptop, your most prized possession, and sink back into your virtual cave. It’s safe there. The things you see on the internet are distant and often times fake. Fanfiction and streams and discussion boards. It’s all so menial and unimportant. It’s not finding a job and dragging your butt to work five days a week or disappointing your mother. 

Mm, well, you should check the job boards again. Something’s going to come up eventually. That’s what everyone says and those people have jobs. Even Roxie works, even if it is at a night club. It’s work and she brings home some impressive tips. When your mom asked her to get you a gig, she just laughed. 

You interviewed at Taco Bell a few weeks ago but you haven’t got a call. That’s probably not going to work out. Move on, try again and again and again. 

The computer doesn’t keep your focus as usual. Maybe it’s that you’re overtired or that your mom was so upset or everything that happened last night, but you just can’t rein it in. You close your laptop and lay flat on your bed. You close your eyes, exhaustion hot on your eyelids, but you can’t sleep. You’re no good at napping. What are you good at? 

You sigh and kick your feet. What are you going to do? You can’t spend another summer like this. You’re not like everyone else. You didn’t get into your school and you didn’t get some lofty job from your uncle’s company. As much as you can blame it on other’s luck, you have to acknowledge you’re own shortcoming. You procrastinate, you get nervous, and sometimes, you just avoid things altogether. 

You get up and grab your purse. The strap catches on your sweater and knocks it onto the floor. You search for your phone and pull it out. You bend to retrieve your cardigan and toss it with your purse back onto the dress. You look down as something flutters onto the carpet. 

You didn’t forget about the little note. It’s the weight that been on your shoulders. You take your phone and the paper and sit on the side of the bed. You can rip it up, crumple it and toss it in the bin, pretend nothing ever happened. You should. Just forget about the worst night of your life. 

You can’t. It’s not about your sister’s drunken display or your embarrassment. It’s about a job.  

You hang your head as your nose tingles. Your mom works her butt off and she’s so giving. You want to return the favour. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just you paying for some of the groceries or a bill or giving her a few bucks. If you don’t try this time, you won’t be able to forget. You’ll always know that you are the reason you came up short. 

You unlock your phone and key in the number. You drop it and let the paper fall too as you stand. You pace around in circles until you’re dizzy. You hate making phone calls. The sound of your own voice is grating. Ugh.  

No, you have to do it. You can do this. It’s one phone call. What if that’s the job? What if you’re answering a phone? Get over yourself. Grow up! 

You pick up your phone and hit call. Your chest locks up. You can’t breathe. Oh god. If you can’t breathe you can’t speak. You hang up and squeak. Frig. No, don’t give up. 

You try again. This time, you force out an exhale and shakily hold the phone to your ear. There’s an answer after two rings. 

“Barnes,” a voice declares from the other end. 

“Erm, oh, Bucky? It’s... me,” you stutter out, giving your name as you realise he won’t recognise your voice. 

“Ah, hi, doll, give me a moment, one sec,” he says and you hear a scuffing on the other end and a muffled ‘excuse me’. His movement rustles and he clears his throat directly into the speaker, “there we are, doll, all yours. How are you?” 

“Uh, alright, I’m fine, er, oh... you?” You close your eyes, Just melt into a puddle and absorb into the carpet.  

“Doing great now, hearing from you,” he purrs, “I’m very happy you called.” 

“Mhm, well...” you put your hand to your neck. Your skin is burning. “I... was calling about the job. In the note.” 

“Of course, doll, so you’re interested?” 

Desperate, but you won’t tell him that. “Yes, please, I mean--” you cringe. You’re not ordering ice cream, “would... what would be... would there be an interview?” 

“Sure, doll,” he says. His tone is light and airy. Is he making fun of you or are you just self-conscious? Both, probably. “How about you come by the casino tomorrow at noon? Does that work for you?” 

“Yeah, uh, whenever,” you agree, “I can get a ride.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait,” he coos. 

“Right, uh, okay, yeah, I’ll see you,” you babble dumbly. 

“Mm, yeah, see ya then, doll,” he intones. 

“Yep, er, bye.” 

“Bye--” 

You hang up in a half-panic. You did it. You made the call and you got an interview. You think. The conversation wasn’t what you expected but you think it went well.  

You blow out through your lips and grip your phone tight. Your heart hammers again. You march to the door and stop just before you can grip the knob. You’re excited but scared to tell your mom. 

You swing the door open and clammer through. You hear her in the kitchen doing dishes. It’s Roxie turn so of course your sister is sitting on the couch nursing another coffee. 

“Mom,” you slow and tap your phone against your leg as you stop by the counter, “I... I got an interview.” 

“An interview?” Her surprise is genuine, both in her expression and her voice as she looks at you. Her face blooms in a smile. “That’s wonderful. When?” 

“Tomorrow,” you utter. 

“Tomorrow?” She echoes. 

“At noon.” 

“Noon, okay, I can come home from work and drive you, but you’ll have to get a cab home. I should have enough for the fare.” 

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you clutch your phone in front of you and sway, “thanks.” 

“No problem,” she chimes, “where is it?” 

“What?” 

“The interview.” 

“Oh, at the casino.” 

“The casino?” She turns back to the sink and stares into the water as she scrubs, “hm, interesting. What will you be doing?” 

“Hm, I... don’t know yet. Maybe a cleaner.” 

“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she says, “think I have a shirt you can wear. Maybe I could hem a pair of my pants for you tonight.” 

“Mom, you don’t have to--” 

“You should look nice,” she undercuts, “it’s not a big deal. Besides, it would be really good if you got a job.” 

You nod. You can hear the thinness in her voice. She tries to hide it but you know it’s not easy around here. You saw the red notice in the mail box and heard her on the phone with the landlord. The bough is close to breaking. 

“Thanks, I’ll... I’ll do my best.” 

“I know you will,” she trills. 

You smile and go back to your room. You shut the door and shudder. Great, now you’ve hurdled over the phone call, you can dread what comes next. Not just venturing out into the general public but going to an interview. It’s one thing after another. It feels like a lot after so long of nothing. 

🃏

Your mom lets you out in Lot 4. It’s far from the main entrance but she’s in a hurry to get back to work. You won’t keep her. You can walk a bit. 

The sun has you sweating along with the polyester trousers. The belt is pinned and the legs have been hastily hemmed. The blouse doesn’t breathe either but you managed to iron the wrinkle out of the sleeve. 

You come to the front doors and steel yourself. Your mascara sticks as you feel the perspiration around your eyes. Oof. You did your best to follow the tutorial with your sister's borrowed makeup but you skipped the eye liner; it only ever turns out smudgy. 

You enter and the air conditioning cools the heat in your cheeks and chest. The woman behind the counter greets you with a smile and a ‘how are you’ before asking if you’re checking in. You’re almost speechless at the sight of her. She’s so pretty and she can do the contour the way those girls on Youtube do. You wouldn’t be good for that job; not gorgeous like her. 

“Um, yeah, actually, I’m here for an interview,” you say. 

“An interview?” She tilts her head, “I didn’t see anything...” she clicks around with the slim mouse on the desk, “who were you interviewing with?” 

“Bucky, uh, Mr. Barnes,” you say. “Well, I spoke with him. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to someone else?” 

She says your name and glances from the screen to you. You nod, “yeah?” 

“Right, okay, I see,” she keeps her shining smile, “Mr. Barnes has a car waiting for you.” 

“A car?” Your brows pop up. “Alright.” 

“If you just want to head back out, it should be waiting there. You’ll see Merv, he has white hair.” 

“Okay, thanks,” you reply then gulp as you turn around. 

You turn slowly and go back to the doors. What is going on? He said to meet him here but he isn’t here? He would be a busy man. You just hope you don’t blow it. 

You pull the doors open and come down the shallow steps. A man with white hair stands by a dark car. One more mountain to climb. 

“Uh, hello, are you... Merv?” 

“That’s me, miss,” he stands straight, “you must be the lady.” 

“I... guess.” 

“Come on then,” he turns and opens the door, “Mr. Barnes doesn’t like to wait.” 

“Okay, sorry,” you step off the curb and climb into the car.  

The door shuts and you buckle up. At least the interior is cool. You snap the belt into place as Merv gets in the front. He rests a hand on the wheel and points with the other. 

“You want this up or down?” He points to the barrier between the front and back. 

“Oh, I don’t... whatever you like,” you shrug. 

He chuckles, “miss, you’re a lot sweeter than the other ones.” 

Other ones? Of course there would be other candidates. You wonder if this is a test. If maybe Merv is going to tell Bucky that you’re too quiet. 

“Do you like Springsteen?” He asks as he slowly pulls out. 

“Don’t mind him,” you answer. Honestly, you don’t really know any of his music.  

Merv flips on the stereo, “I like you even more.” 

[diremoone]

sweet dedication | g. satoru

a year after his fight with sukuna, satoru finally gets to enjoy his birthday in peace, with no one but his beloved wife.

w — fluff, post-canon, lots of food :3, i incorporated a doggo sue me, vv short but hopefully sweet 🥰

Happy Birthday, My Beloved Satoru ❤️❤️

[ line divider credit to @/saradika ]

The last thing Satoru expected to smell coming through the front door of his home was a mixture of cinnamon and cherries. He shrugged off the jacket from his shoulders and curiously stepped further into his home. Upon seeing the kitchen table and every counter, his eyes went wide and mouth fell open.

On the kitchen table was at least four boxes of pizza, chicken wings, fried chicken, and brisket. Towards the end of the table farther fell the front door were sides, like green bean casserole and corn. His mouth began to water, his inner food junkie rearing it’s hungry head.

Across the counters and clearly in the oven were desserts, desserts, and more desserts — apple and cherry pie, cheesecake, fruit kebabs, crepes, mochi, brownies, kikufuku from Sendai. Gosh, what was the occasion?

And then the man sees above the hallway entrance that leads to the other rooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Satoru gapes.

Was it really December 7th?

He checks his phone and his brows raise in surprise. How in the world did he forget?

But you didn’t. You would’ve been the only one available to have made such a feast for him (even if it was mostly sweets), since everyone else was out on missions, still trying to tidy up Japan after the Culling Games’ toll.

He feels his heart swell with love and happiness, happy that you’ve remembered a date that he’s thrown to the side for so many years. He’s happy that you’ve done so much here for him, a genuine showcase of how much you really loved him and knew him by cooking all of his favorites. This must’ve taken you hours and hours to do; this being a clear proclamation of how much you’ve dedicated yourself to him and to knowing him.

“Babe?” he calls out to open air. No response. He’s smart by checking the kitchen first; you’d never leave cooking food unattended.

Satoru’s mouth quirks up into a sweet smile at the sight of passed out, sitting on the kitchen floor with your inseparable corgi Maple snoozing away right next to you. Although he squints at the sight of your neck lolled to the side in the corner of the cabinets. That didn’t look comfortable at all.

He’s not sure if he should take you to bed or wake you up right now. After a moment, he decides the former. But as soon as you’re scooped up and secured against his broad chest, your eyes flutter open. Maple wakes up too, barking and wiggling her butt, happy to see her dad.

“Oh, my god. Satoru!”

He winks. “The one and only baby.”

Your brain has always been fast about remembering all of the events prior to any sort of sleep or nap you’ve had. This time was no different, and he chuckles when you begin to groan and complain about your surprise being ruined.

“God, I can’t believe I fell asleep! How does one even sleep on the kitchen floor. My ass hurts, Jesus,” you complain. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck in embarrassment as he carries you to the couch and sits down with you on his lap. Maple bounds up behind him and miraculously uses her little legs to hop up on the couch. Satoru chuckles and takes a moment to briefly give her belly rubs.

“Thank you for trying to make this day special for me,” your ‘Toru says. It’s sweet, the tone of his voice, filled with love and adoration. “Don’t feel bad. That looks like a lot of cooking you did, so it’s only natural you’d fall asleep at some point. So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

You grumble but nod anyway. It was true. You’d been awake ever since he’d left earlier this morning, putting the pedal to the floor on your attempt to swamp the love of your life with all of his favorite foods made by hand.

“I love you, Satoru,” you mumble, still tired and sleepy from overextending yourself.

“I love you, too, baby.” His lips press a long kiss to the side of your temple. He pulls away to gaze down into your eyes, chuckles escaping him again at seeing the sleepy haze in them. “Thank you for trying to make my special day special.”

“But I still didn’t get to surprise you,” you complain.

“I wasn’t expecting it when I came home, especially now with everything going on. I think that’s a big enough surprise for me,” he argues. “So come on, cheer up! We have some delicious delicious food to eat made by my sweet, adorable, wonderful wifey-poo! Except the pizza of course!”

You deadpan. “Call me that again and I’ll smash the strawberry shortcake I made as your birthday cake in that expensive jacket you bought last week.”

Satoru gasps dramatically in horror.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“Not if I eat it first!”

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu and @/all my satoru lovers also i shouldn’t have taken that nap otherwise this taglist would be longer lmaoo

let’s raise a glass to this man who deserves the entire fucking world

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 琅琊榜/Nirvana in Fire.

Nirvana in Fire is a 2015 historical series best described as either a complicated succession drama set in the premodern Chinese imperial palace, or the story of a man who didn't die a decade ago and has decided to make it everyone else's problem.

And really, I almost feel silly giving my glib little summary, because Nirvana in Fire is so well-known of a property. It's a classic for a reason, and that reason is that it's legitimately very good. This show is what happens when you adapt a solid story, get a bunch of very talented actors, and throw a huge amount of money at it. It's incredibly popular and highly acclaimed, and it earned all of the hype.

Still, while I bet there are few people adjacent to c-drama stuff who've never heard of Nirvana in Fire, I'm sure there are plenty who haven't watched it. After all, it looks like one of those slow, serious shows with a lot of ponderous talking and no joy. If that's the impression you've been given, I could imagine looking at the 54-episode commitment and saying, I don't need that in my life.

I am here to tell you you're wrong. It is a banger of a show. It's tense. It's funny. It's heartbreaking. It’s exceptionally clever. It’s jaw-droppingly stupid. It’s romantic. It’s tragic. It has smart plots and bizarre subplots. And that's not even touching the thing with the yeti.

So in case you're one of those people who's heard of Nirvana in Fire, but has put off watching it for one reason or another, I'm here with five reasons I think you should try it.

1. Epic Shit

Did you like the Lord of the Rings? More specifically, did you really like the second Peter Jackson film? Great, then you're all set for this.

I guess I could have called this Game of Thrones without the dragons, but that's not actually the vibe at all. Game of Thrones is much more sensational and salacious, with all the blood and butts and what-not. The Tolkien comparison is more apt, I think, because Nirvana in Fire is equally about as wholesome as you can get in a property where dudes are still getting stabbed all the time.

This is a show about vengeance. And yeah, justice for the fallen, sure, that's fine too. But mostly it's about a bunch of good people joining forces to make sure the bastards who did wrong pay, with their lives as necesary.

The problem, though, is that these bastards are incredibly powerful, which means that a pure brute-force approach isn't going to work. Accordingly, this quickly becomes a story about the power of smart teamwork to exact retribution on some people who can (and did!) legally get away with murder -- and our heroes are some of the people with their necks most on the line if anything goes wrong.

Don't let the Middle Earth comparison fool you into thinking this is all epic swordfights. It's not. (I mean, for one thing, as well-funded as this project is, it doesn't have Peter Jackson Money.) The vast majority of the tension in the show comes from dialogue and slow, terrible realizations. The fight scenes are almost a relief from the nail-biting intensity of intimate conversations about getting a letter from somebody's ex-wife or returning a book.

All told, the show has that incredible almost-RPG vibe of going through all the little subquests and cutscenes you find along the way to defeat the final boss. The plot carefully unravels a multi-tendriled mystery told to you by people in incredible costumes. It doesn't get much more epic than that.

(Nirvana in Fire is also a cautionary tale about how you should be very careful with who gets invited to your birthday party.)

2. A chronically ill protagonist

Okay, right in the first episode, it is established that the main character has three whole completely different names and an old nickname. I'm going to call him Mei Changsu for the duration of this rec post, but let the record show that I could just have easily gone with one of the other three.

What you learn in that same first episode is that Mei Changsu used to be a palace insider, the cocky son of a noble family, only now nearly everyone he used to know thinks he's dead. Also, he's not far off from being actually dead -- he has an unspecified terminal condition that's mostly managed, provided he stays in his little mountain hideaway with his handsome doctor bestie and doesn't return to his old stomping ground and start kicking over hornets' nests.

So guess what he's about to do.

I have to make a note of how brilliant the casting is here: Hu Ge is an action actor! He is a kickpuncher of a man! And I think it's great that you can sort of see his frustration, as well as Mei Changsu's, at having to spend the whole series wrapped in countless layers of fabric and/or lying in bed while everyone around him gets to be the badass action heroes.

Mei Changsu's not faking it, either -- he's actually dying. He expends his energy where he thinks it's necessary, and sometimes that means he has to spend the following week in bed. He's constantly frustrated with himself for what he can't do anymore. He's racing a clock, and that clock is his own failing body. If he dies, the only hope anyone here has for justice dies with him.

He gets two love interests that the show treats pretty much equally. One's a lady general who wasn't even a love interest in the book. The other's the handsome prince who was initially going to be his textual romantic partner in same book, until the author hopped genres from danmei to general historical drama. I can't even call this a love triangle, because there's no competition. He just gets a wife and a husband -- in that he gets neither, because circumstances and his own illness keep him distant from them. He lies to both of then about his condition (among other things). He wants to be with them both and knows he can't be with either. And they in turn have to learn to accept what of him they can and can't have.

(Also, Nihuang (her) and Jingyan (him) are both incredibly gorgeous, which is exactly what bisexual genius Mei Changsu deserves.)

Obviously this isn't a perfect representation of life with chronic illness, largely because Mei Changsu is an incredily wealthy man who lives in a universe with what's basically magic medicine. However, I've seen the story's treatment of him and his condition resonate with a lot of chronically ill viewers, so even with the fantasy layer on it, there's definitely something there.

3. Dave

I have already told the story of how Meng Zhi became "Dave," but long story short, he's such a Dave that I legitimately forget his character's real name. He embodies Daveness. He's The Ultimate Dave.

Dave is an excellent fighter, a loyal friend -- and a terrible liar. He's possbly the only straightforward character in the entire show. When he's asked to be duplicitous, he's comically bad at it. Dave will never do a heel turn. I was misled at first by his semi-evil facial hair, but I have seen the error of my ways. Dave is pure lawful good.

And the reason I list Dave as such a selling point is that having a Dave means you always know what's going on. This is because Dave never knows what's going on, and he has no ego about that, so he asks questions, and other characters have to explain to him what just happened, and that is how you figure out what's going on.

It's an incredibly smart move on the drama's part, because some of the (very fun) schemes are so complicated that there's no way for you, the viewer, to understand them just by watching. Without the internal monologues and omniscent narration of a book, the machinations are opaque. You need things explained -- but why would the schemers explain their schemes? Well, Dave needs some exposition, so here you go.

So if you're worried that you might be left feeling stupid by a show where so many sneaky people are hatching so many complex plans, worry not! Like the good man he is, Dave has your back.

4. A Million Amazing Antagonists

If you like bad guys, this is a show for you. This show has brilliant bad guys all the way down. It has bad guys at every turn. It has bad guys for every taste. Welcome to Big Liang's Big Bad Guy Emporium, where we guarantee you'll walk out of here with a bad guy you like, or your money back!

(And yes, this set of pictures is also to say that their costume budget was entirely well-spent.)

Without getting too far into spoilers, I will say that the basic situation underlying the whole series is this: The emperor has done a lot of bad things, and he has enlisted a bunch of people's help in hiding those bad things, so much so that many of those other people have done even more bad things the emperor didn't even know about -- and then everyone has gone to great lengths to cover those up as well. Our protagonists spend the whole series unraveling this colossal shitshow and bringing people to task for their crimes.

So really, if you're going to spend 54 episodes taking down the baddies, they've got to be baddies you love to see taken down. And these are -- in part because all of them have crystal-clear, rock-solid motivations for their actions. Nobody here is a moustache-twirling comic-book-villain baddie. They're all bad for reasons that are very understandable in their individual contexts. And not a single one of them is going to go down without a fight.

5. World's Best Mom

(Sidebar: The fact that four out of five of my reasons to watch the show are individual or groups of characters should be your strongest indicator that this is an intensely character-driven story.)

This is not a Dead Mom Show. Okay, some moms are dead, but mostly this is a Moms Are Alive And Often Cause Problems Show, which is a lot of what makes the palace drama so delicious. But there is one Good Mom who stands out above all the rest: Consort Jing.

Played with perfect grace and devastating politeness by the stunning Liu Mintao, Consort Jing is a skilled doctor and excellent baker who starts the show with a low-level status among the women of the palace. She swallows down all kinds of mistreatment because she's not in a place to oppose it -- and when she can retaliate, it must only be through soft power. She loves her jock son with all her heart, but because of both their relatively poor positions in the hierarchy, she doesn't get to see him all that much. She wants to be an asset to him, while all the time she has to fear becoming a liability.

She is also the smartest person in any room that she's in, unless she's in a room with Mei Changsu, and even then it may be a tie.

There are lots of great characters in the show that I could have highlighted here, and plenty of them are women, but Consort Jing in particular never ceases to impress me. She is trapped in a gilded cage, married to a man who [lengthy list of spoilers that are traumatic to her in particular], and held hostage by how every time she even looks like she's out of line, it puts both her and her boy in danger. She's the most vulnerable of any of our good guys. Kind of like Wang Zhi, she's got to be clever or she's dead.

Consort Jing is not part of Mei Changsu's original plan. She figures out his plan and makes herself part of it -- and entirely remotely, as she and he aren't even in the same room until episode 40 or so. She puts herself in great danger to make sure he succeeds, not because it will necessarily do her any good, but because Jingyan needs him. This woman has been captain of the Mei Changsu/Jingyan ship for like twenty years already.

Oh, and did I mention her outfits?

I love you, Consort Mom.

Are you ready to watch it yet?

Get it on Viki! Get it on YouTube! Get it on YouTube but in a different playlist! (And also maybe get it on Amazon? Not in my region, but maybe in yours.)

I will warn you that it does take off running -- I think I saw someone say it introduces nineteen characters in the first episode? I was worried that I'd be too innundated by situations and flashbacks and names to be able to follow. By the second or third episode, though, I was rolling with it. So if you feel like you're struggling at the beginning, stick with it a bit. See if you don't feel it start to click.

...Man, reading over this post has left me going, oh, but I missed that! and that! and that guy! And yeah, the truth is that there are just so many great things about the show that limiting myself to only five (and being limited to only thirty images) was tough. I'm sure that people reblogging will add their own must-see elements.

Truly, this is a show that deserves its reputation. It may not be for everyone, but if this is the kind of thing that you like, it is a shining example of that thing.

Besides, you have to love a production where everyone was clearly having just a whole lot of fun being big ol' costumed dorks.

[skaruresonic]

Once more I must cite sources because folks assume you'll take their "nuh-uh" as a sufficient counterargument.

While there's no "official" count, the general consensus is that there are roughly 50 or more errors within the Encyclospeedia. Greeny has documented some of them, as well as CrystalMaiden77:

Sonic Encyclospeedia Errors: by CrystalMaiden77 on DeviantArt

These are purely factual errors. That's not counting the various formatting, spelling, and grammatical errors:

---

"The other writers don't currently have any way to ask for questions reliably" - Sonic Team regularly answer fan questions on Twitter, including Shiro Maekawa.

Dr. Crusher, Did you saw Shiro Maekawa response to someone... (tumblr.com)

"Silver has always been polite" - That is Flynn's own personal interpretation. And it's wrong.

Writings From A Field of Roses — Our monthly live show on YouTube, usually on the... (tumblr.com)

---

We've been having this long, drawn-out debate for years because there are many, many layers of inaccuracy, strawman, and ego-flexing going on, but I'll just drop this link to give you a crash-course on the broad strokes:

Encyclopedia Sonnica, ✂️ "Go read something else" (tumblr.com)

---

"ST have been using mandated material to govern Shadow as this edgelord over every writer in the past 14 fucking years" - Sonic Reddit invented the concept of Shadow mandates in response to Shadow's poor portrayal in IDW 19, which spread through fandom-wide games of telephone. There's no concrete proof they exist. Nor did Shadow-specific mandates seem to exist before issue 19.

The reason why IDW Shadow acts weird : r/SonicTheHedgehog (reddit.com) Behold, the reason everyone believes the fictitious... – @skaruresonic on Tumblr

The likelier explanation for why IDW!Shadow is a poor portrayal but Dark Beginnings is not is that Flynn receives more feedback on Shadow because he doesn't understand the character.

IDW Sonic "FAQ" - Google Docs

---

"Claimed games aren't strong enough when?"

Here:

---

If "98%" of references are "impossible to find," why are players complaining about the reference overload in Frontiers' message boards?

The constant attempts to reference past lore is kinda obnoxious. - Sonic Frontiers (gamespot.com)

Not to mention he straight-up plagiarized entire lyrics to a song from a fan band and did not credit them, just as a "reference":

Just in case you thought Ian Flynn putting song lyrics in dialogue was just a Sonic thing. : r/TwoBestFriendsPlay (reddit.com)

But you’re still standing here — Man, Flynn really hates #Playthegames, huh? What... (tumblr.com)

---

You're right, he doesn't hate Amy; he simply described her as "all over the place" and not-so-subtly put her and several other prominent girl characters down, calling Blaze the "singular kick-butt female character" among them, in order to imply his OC Tangle was going to fulfill a role none of them could.

His words. Not mine.

Game Informer Interview With Ian Flynn (lastminutecontinue.com)

---

“This is how Sonic is, by SEGA, and this is me basically spelling it out, for anyone who hasn’t quite figured it out to this point.” - Flynn

But you’re still standing here — “This is how Sonic is, by SEGA, and this is me... (tumblr.com)

---

Encyclopedia Sonnica, I was looking at some posts about Archie sonic,... (tumblr.com)

---

"He likes Team Hooligan? That's a problem now?"

It is if he's heavily implying his own fanon is games canon in a lore book that people pay for when it's not.

---

---

Lol the projection is strong in this one.

If he is a credible source on the basis that he, quote, is a "fan" of the series, then he should know something as basic how Chaos Control works within the context of the game in which the move debuted. You can't pick and choose. Either he's a credible source or he's not.

How Chaos Control works is not particularly obscure knowledge that only The Elitest of Sonic fans have.

The whole "Ian isn't an encyclopedia of perfect knowledge guys, come on" thing becomes especially ironic considering how vehemently you insisted the Encyclospeedia has no errors in it just because You Said So(tm).

Sure, Jan. Whatever you say.

---

"There are completely fair and respectful critiques of Ian Flynn out there that deserve to be heard and taken in. I am not saying his works are perfect and cannot be critiqued. This is just not how you do it lol."

I don't believe you.

Considering you lot go absolutely bananas whenever people contradict Flynn in any way, shape, or form, no matter how neutral the delivery or how heavily it comes attached with sources and screenshots...

...No. I don't believe you when you say you'll allow for "fair criticism," if there even is such a thing to you guys. Everything is considered "disgusting" and "mindless" hate to you, and this entire counterthread is proof of that. You literally opened your thread describing Greeny's points as evidence of a "disgusting" bias. Well, here I am, shoving the sources in your face. Look at them.

Oh, you'll "allow" the existence of opinions you hate, but only if you personally deem them acceptable enough? How very authoritarian gracious of you.

I have seen, with my own two eyes, someone complain that it's our fault that no one can bring up "reasonable criticism" without getting hounded anyway, as if the conclusion one ought to draw from that is Haters Suck(tm) and not that the call has always come from inside the house.

The harsh truth of the matter is this: people are not going to want to bring up any flavor of criticism around you. Ever. Especially not when you descend like a pack of hellhounds and stalk, threaten, and harass over the slightest disagreement.

People hide behind anons and have decided to confine Sonic discussion to private Discords because of the overreactions of people like you, who cannot grapple with reality and instead choose to project all that hate onto someone stating facts.

[huuuuughes]

Mine. - Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Jeremy comes over to beg for your forgiveness, and things quickly take a turn... but not for the worst.

Word count: 3.3k (its short ik im sorry)

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, bad writing??? idk this is porn OKAY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. pls dont read if you're under 18 thank u!!

Note: i wrote this awhile ago for goalie week and then a bunch of stuff happened and i kept forgetting to post it bc i started my first full time job a month ago and its kicking my BUTT. anyways thanks for reading :)

You could hear your phone going off from across the room. It was Friday night and the end of a very long work week. Your boss was driving you up the wall and your personal life didn’t seem to be going much better. Your friends were good, you just didn’t get to see them as often as you wanted due to just being adults and everyone having their own full time jobs. 

The one person who was supposed to make your life easier, better even, was the one currently blowing up your phone. You knew exactly who it was, but he deserved to sit there and stew for a while. But as you looked around your apartment while trying to decide what show to numb your mind with, you noticed things of his strewn everywhere. You didn’t live together, not yet anyway, but based on the amount of things you had at each others’ places, you may as well have. 

Your work involved working with many different clients, and making their dreams come true. You were a travel agent, and your boss didn't exactly adhere to the typical 9-5 schedule like a normal job. If you were awake, she expected you to be able to take care of the problem. 

You had already decided long ago that men didn’t always think with their brains. Jeremy was jealous, but of what you had no idea. Did you have a lot of clients who were men who wanted to surprise the lady in their lives? Yes. Did those scumbags also try and make a move on you sometimes? Also yes. But you were a professional, and always conducted yourself as such. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t your job to fix someone else’s insecurities. You could tell Jeremy that he didn’t need to be jealous until you were blue in the face, but you didn’t know when he was going to get it. You weren’t broken up, but you’d told him you needed a minute for him to calm down. It had been a few days at that point, and you couldn’t deny you were also getting antsy. He may be a stupid guy sometimes, but he was yours.

After what had to be the millionth time of your phone going off with a DING of a text, you made yourself get up off the couch. The last message you had read:

Sway❤️: I know I’m stupid. I need you to know I’m sorry. Can I see you, please? 

After the stressful week you’d had, you wanted nothing more than to feel his familiar warmth around you. The moment he was near you it was like the noise around you calmed down to its lowest level. 

Y/N: I’m at home, you know where to find me. 

Sway❤️: I’m on my way, be there in 20. I love you. 

The next twenty minutes were going to kill you. Your apartment was already cleaned, because you liked to clean when you got anxious as mess only made you more anxious. Your doorman would recognize Jeremy and send him up when he arrived, so you didn’t need to even get up to let him in. He had his key, he knew exactly where to find you. 

After an eternity, at least what felt like one, you heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock. He quietly took off his shoes by the door, and locked it behind him. 

“Babe?” He called out, already walking toward the living room where you sat. 

“I’m in here!” You called back. Relief washed over you when you saw him, but you didn’t get up and go to him. He had to earn you back the way you deserved. 

“Where should I start?” He asked, sitting down in a chair only a few feet away from you. 

“How about how you shouldn’t act jealous of my stupid clients? Or any man that I’m ever with that isn’t you? Do you really think I’m that crappy of a person that I would EVER cheat on you?”

“I know I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that because you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but-“

“BUT WHAT JEREMY?” You screamed, and you know it came out louder and meaner than you wanted it to. He recoiled a little bit but didn’t lose his energy. 

“I’m stupid. I’m a stupid guy, who knows you are way out of my league. It sounds like a dumb excuse, but I’m so scared of losing you. I want you, I want to love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But you’ve seen the league, you’ve seen what this life can do to relationships and what it turns people into. I don’t want anything bad to happen to us. I know this isn’t the life you signed on for. I think about you being at home alone and I hate it.” He looked defeated and like he meant every word he’d said. 

“You can’t lose something you already have.” You wanted to close the space between you so badly. 

“You still want to be with me?” You got up and walked to the kitchen as he asked, putting away the wine you’d gotten out so it wouldn’t spoil. He followed closely, less than a few steps away. One giant step and he’d be able to close that space. 

“I wouldn’t have told you to come if I didn’t. You just needed to listen, and you weren’t hearing me. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, that isn’t who I am.”

“I hear you loud and clear now. And I’m not jealous, you’re just mine.” The tone in his voice shifted to another one you recognized. 

“I’m yours huh?” You said it like you were challenging him because it sounded like he thought he already won. He should be fighting for you and showing you what that means. 

“Do you need a reminder?” He closed the space, so his forehead rested against yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face, breathing in time with you. Without warning, you pressed your lips against his with a new hunger behind you. You’d missed this heat between you, the raw need to have each other right in that moment. 

His hands explored your body, finding their way to your ass and lifting you up onto the counter. It was cold against your legs, the shorts you had on weren’t very long and you felt every inch of cold countertop but you didn’t care. His lips left yours with a moan and began making their way down your neck. You could feel how wet you were already getting, responding to his touch so quickly. You reached for the hem of his shirt and motioned for him to take it off. He complied in earnest, his mouth immediately returning to you.

Lifting your shirt up and over your head, your breasts became exposed for him to devour. He licked around your nipple, biting it and chasing you to arch off the counter while letting out a scream. Your nails were digging into every spot on him that he could reach. Momentarily he kissed your mouth again, bringing his still covered cock against your center. You could feel it hard against you, the friction only giving you the slightest relief. 

“Please daddy, please I need-“ You tried not to beg but the torture was killing you. 

“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Tell daddy who you belong to princess.” He whispered in your ear, continuing to kiss around your neck in the spot he knew you liked. 

“YOURS. I’M YOURS!” You needed relief or you were going to go insane. 

“Now was that so hard baby?” He asked. You didn’t even have the time or energy to reply as he pulled off your shorts in one big motion. 

“No underwear? Even better.” You attempted to push his head toward your swollen clit, but he wouldn’t go faster than he wanted to. He kissed and bit your thighs, leaving marks where he knew no one could see. You’d have those marks there for weeks. Each kiss he got closer until you finally felt his tongue brush against your clit. You shivered as he began to devour you, your thighs clenching around his head not wanting him to escape.

He pulled back but only for a moment, instructing you to lick the fingers he was putting in front of your face. You did as he asked, and he resumed going after your pussy. In a new move, he inserted his fingers into you as he continued eating. His tongue was licking in time with his fingers as they pumped in and out of you. He was hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Holy shit don’t stop, don’t stop PLEASE.” You were writhing on top of the counter as he struggled to hold you in place. He knew you were so close to your high, edging you just along that fine line. You’re burning up and he knows it. His other hand reaches up and pinches your nipple before grabbing onto your breasts like they were his lifeline. 

You cursed him silently for having hair you couldn’t grab onto, but you pressed his head as if it could go further into you. His tongue quickened its pace, matching his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building and it was right there, all you needed to do was let go. 

“Let go baby girl, cum on my face for me..” He whispered against your clit,  and what came out of yours was a series of expletives that you didn’t care to understand. He could taste everything you were giving him, not stopping as you started to come down. Every nerve ending was on overdrive and he held you down against the counter. The wave of your orgasm rolled over you, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t let a single drop of you miss his mouth, and you saw his smile looking up at you as you tried to catch your breath. 

He stood up without breaking eye contact, and undid his own pants. He made sure all remaining clothes of yours were off, nibbling on your ears and down your neck as he did so. In a move of complete trust, he picked you up off of the counter and carried you down to where he knew your room was. His lips found yours again and suddenly your lungs were struggling for air but you didn’t care. Your arms were hooked around his neck as he walked, kissing him like your life depended on it. 

Setting you down on the bed, he laid you down on your back, and stood back to marvel at the sight of you. 

“You look… “ his brain was struggling to find the right word, “fucking stunning.” 

“And you have too many clothes on… sir.” You put yourself up on your elbows, looking down at his boxers that for some reason, had remained on. You didn’t need to let him finish what he was going to say, you needed him to do something more than speak. 

“Sir?” He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you. 

“Did you like that?”  You knew he did but it was your way of teasing. His mouth was on yours before you could process his next movements, placing one hand to your side to balance himself and the other knotted in your hair, pulling your head back so you were looking up at him when he pulled apart. You didn’t even realize that his boxers were already off, as you felt his cock brush against your leg and pussy. 

His hand left your hair and explored your leg, getting closer to its destination. His face was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face and his fingers glided over your folds, but so lightly it sent a shiver up your spine. You could hardly catch your breath but you were dying for him to touch you, to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You wanted him to hear you. His hand remained on your pussy, his fingers becoming soaked.

“So fucking wet for me baby.. did you miss me?” He quickened his fingers and began pumping them inside you. The feeling of his fingers wasn’t enough, you needed more and a whine-like moan escaped you. You whispered a response to him, and it spurred him on. 

“Please Jeremy please, please I need you inside me..” 

“That’s not my fucking name, not in here. In here I own you, isn't that right princess? Do you want me to be gentle?” You nod no, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Use your words princess.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“Don’t be gentle!” You tried pushing his head towards your core again, but he remained looking at you with his fingers teasing you. He added another, stretching you from the inside. You gasped and scratched your nails up his back. 

You gasp again, as you feel him part you with two fingers and put his tongue against you again. He wasn’t done tasting you yet.

“Please baby, I need your cock. Please!” Your mouth couldn’t move fast enough and you didn’t even care that he had reduced you to a begging mess beneath him. Your hips wanted to grind, needing more friction. You could feel your release building again as he sucks on your clit. It was right there, you could feel it as you clawed at your sheets trying to grab onto something but there was nothing. 

Your legs spasmed around his head as your release flooded over you and he ate you once again. 

“So fucking wet for me, you’re so stunning baby girl.” He kissed his way up your body and aligned himself with your entrance. He isn’t gentle as he slams into you as he kisses your mouth like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. 

You’re left begging for air as his head drops down, ducking your nipple into his mouth. 

“Oh god, oh fuck..” you cry out as he wasn’t holding back. He slammed into you over and over, bringing his hand up to find your clit. As he fucked you he was playing with your clit again, causing your wetness to pool onto the bed. Every single nerve you had was on fire, and only he could put it out. 

“Tell me you need it, tell me how bad you want you want my cum.” The hand not on your clit slowly moves up your body to the bottom of your throat and locking his hand around it. Not putting too much pressure, but enough to lightly choke you. Both of your hands gripped his arm as  you felt his cock filling you and his thighs slapping against yours. His speed was increasing and so was the hunger in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck, fuck daddy please I need your cum I need you so bad..!” 

“You are mine, your orgasms are mine, everything about you is mine.” Without warning he withdrew from you, earning a desperate moan. Quickly he flipped you over into your stomach, pulling your hips back so you were on your hands and knees facing away from him with your ass in the air waving him in like an invitation. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He whispers into your ear from behind you. He places kisses on the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy, running his cock along your folds at the same time. He pushes into you again and holds back nothing. Jeremy grips both of your hips with his hands and brings your hips back to meet each one of his thrusts. The sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoes throughout the room, reaching spots inside you that you didn’t know he could. 

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed into the bed as he fucked into you. 

“So fucking tight princess, this pussy was made for me.” His nails scratch down your back eliciting a loud string of moans. His thrusts become more erratic and he brings his hand up, then down to smack your ass as hard as he could. The scream you made encouraged him more, and you could feel a third orgasm building.

“Fuck daddy, please I’m right there I need to cum daddy please..” You didn’t know how he had gotten that many out of you, but you could already tell he was determined for more. 

“That’s it baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock..” He brought his hand around as he leaned into you to tease your clit some more. You were right there, you pushed back to meet his thrusts to get yourself over the hill and the relief washed over you. You moaned out his name, begging for him to fuck you harder and faster. 

He loved seeing his length go in and out of you, taking all of him so well. Spreading your legs to give him a better angle, his cock continued hitting that spot inside you. He slaps your ass again, and again. You cry out, knowing his release was close behind. His hands wrap in your hair and pull you back, making you arch towards him. 

“Fuck yes baby, you like it when I fuck you like this? You ready for my cum?” He chases his release just as badly as you want it from him, feeling him trying to reach his high. You nodded in response to him, not being able to form any more words. The only sounds coming from you were moans of encouragement, it felt like you could be on cloud nine. 

“FUCK!” He screamed as he pulled almost all the way out, slamming back in and releasing his load into you. Jeremy almost collapsed onto you, but he brought you into his arms as he pulled out of you as his cum slowly leaked back out. You knew he thought it was the hottest thing ever. Both trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth, he pulled you in once you laid down so that you were on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat going a million miles a minute inside his chest, but it brought you a sense of calm. Your person was back where he belonged, he had finally heard you. 

“I love you.” He finally spoke but he still sounded out of breath.

“I love you too.”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you, I really love you. THIS is what I want. This body, your perfect fucking curves. Every minute of every hour of every day, I want you. Not just your body, I want all of you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I can’t promise you that I won’t make stupid choices sometimes, but I can promise to be better for you every day.”

“Jer-“ You attempted to stop him, you knew he was it too. 

“Please let me finish. I want to make you feel good, I want to be the person you want to come home to every day, I want to be the person who pushes you to be the best version of yourself and make you feel like the queen of the world. You’re it for me, there is no one else. I’ve spent my whole life doubting myself and chasing this dream I couldn’t even describe. But I can see it so clearly now, and I know that dream is you. And I want to be able to have forever with you, if you’ll have me.” You took a moment to absorb his words. 

“You have to make me a promise okay?” His eyes gleamed at you, like you were holding up the moon just for him. 

“Anything, you name it.”

“Promise me forever. There is no past anymore, there is only us and the future we make together. I want us to help each other be better. Okay?”

“Okay. How about we start forever now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[darsynia]

The Smoke That Roams (post-apocalypse AU Bucky/Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | lmk if you want to be tagged for Bucky fics!

Summary: You and Bucky find each other after the world almost ends

Length/Warnings: 3,080 | sex, allusions to violence

Notes: I tagged this on AO3 as 'romance and survival soaked in metaphor,' lol. It's post-apocalyptic angst. Stop typing, Darsy.

Excerpt:

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized. You were afraid for him. He was a supersoldier, but he wasn’t immortal. Bucky often went off by himself without saying anything to you--but what if someday he didn’t come back? 

A pillow landed on the queen sized bed beside yours, followed by a blanket, followed by Bucky, who threw himself onto his back beside you with as much care as he’d tossed everything else. He was so warm you could feel the heat radiating through the space that separated you, even though none of it carried through to his tone.

“You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

It was… exactly what you needed.

The Smoke That Roams

You used to compare him to a solid, cold hunk of metal. Non-reflective but uncorroded, with a metaphorical melting point so high it’s practically unreachable. A weapon when thrown but otherwise safe, foundational, inexpressive.

That was before he touched you.

Bucky Barnes is not safe. He is expressive, though. Just not with words.

now

The world isn’t destroyed. There are still plants, there are still animals, and there are still safe places to spend time. The planet may actually be better off now than in the last few hundred years, because the humans who were in the process of ruining things just barely failed.

There are no regulations, no government-enforced exclusion zones, only good- and bad-intentioned people living day to day. You figure humanity has around twenty years of 'every man for himself' to realize how difficult it is to grow crops and sustain life. Until then, everyone’s subsisting on canned food and shelf-stable meats while hating every second of it.

Boredom is an unexpectedly dystopian pandemic, post-apocalypse. Books still exist, so there’s that. Unfortunately, even if there were experienced people to keep the electrical grid going, it’s completely unsustainable without an accompanying society. When you’re really depressed, you picture various survivors all around the world hunkering down to read Jurassic Park or Gone Girl next to pine-scented candles or last year’s Pantone table tapers. Once, you imagined a group of miserable assholes warming their hands next to a bonfire of Live, Laugh, Love wall hangings outside of a Cracker Barrel. It helped. You doubt any Karens survived the apocalypse to object.

then

You survived out of luck, if you could call living in the aftermath of a failed nuclear response ‘luck.’ 

Given the honest-to-fuck alien invasion, those nuclear strikes should have taken out the whole area. Instead, a strange golden dome repelled the worst of the damage, but you knew better than to assume it would stick around. After gathering some important provisions (including a gun and all your ammo), you spent some time bundling up your lawnmower’s spare gas can. You'd read The Stand. There's no way you're strong enough to pilfer gasoline from an underground tank.

That was when you found a leather-clad warrior man standing beside your motorcycle. He didn't seem surprised to see you. “You know how to ride this?”

“You after parts or gas?” you asked, hand on the butt of your gun. You were high on survivor’s guilt and low on bravado. He noticed both.

“A bodyguard,” Bucky told you sardonically.

He eventually told you the real reason, but at the time you’d pulled courage out of the sulfuric smell of danger in the air and suggested you watch each other’s backs.

now

“Still awake?”

You roll over to see Bucky’s familiar shape standing at the window, outlined in moonlight.

“Yeah. It’s too quiet.” Yesterday the two of you had retreated further into the mountains, judging your previous temporary home too close to the river after seeing two small groups using it for through travel.

“Never thought I’d like the quiet this much,” he muses.

Getting up, you move to stand beside him, still dressed in multiple layers to ward off the colder elevation. “That’s because it matters why it’s quiet.”

He doesn’t look over, but his smile is gorgeous in the dim light. “That’s a war reference.”

“You’re damn right.”

The two of you stand in silence, watching the shadows of the nearby trees play in the wind until he speaks again, gruff and oddly defensive.

“I was right about the shelter.”

“There’s a radio? Was it the right kind?”

“Yeah. Months worth of food, too.”

You’re embarrassed at how excited you are at the thought of MREs. “That’s great,” you say, reaching out to touch his arm. It’s sopping wet. Turning to look at him more fully, you see that his hair is wet too. He’s been dripping the whole time he's stood there; there’s a halo of wet, dark spots on the floor around him that feel almost symbolic.

“Most of the food was untouched. Ghosts don’t eat much.”

“How many?” You have to dredge to find enough moisture to rub your vocal cords together.

“Just one. Buried him in the woods pretty far out, washed up in the river.”

Bucky leaves so much unsaid, but you’re good at decoding him by now. This new cabin is miles from the river. As a good ‘bodyguard,’ though, you have one more clarifying question. It’ll matter, if you want to stay here for longer than a week or two.

“Was there evidence of-- did someone else--”

“Self-inflicted.”

“Yeah, aren’t we all,” you sigh, pushing away the guilt of relief.

then

You learned him slowly.

Bucky didn’t need a bodyguard as much as a body, or more accurately a second person to help carry the items he was gathering. It made sense; even a loner like him wouldn’t separate from the other Avengers without a reason. Their version of ‘strength in numbers’ was too complicated to understand and he didn’t really explain, but it had something to do with scattered communication, whatever that meant.

The parts he needed were in military bases, abandoned (and guarded, which was fucking terrifying) high rises, and one notable item was in a corn field. Eventually he gave you his motorcycle and upgraded to one with a sidecar.

You didn’t ask why it was wet when he showed up with it, but you had an idea of why he might have needed to clean it off.

By then you were used to sharing a room with him, dressing and undressing when he was out of the room or faced away. He didn't seem to mind, but you couldn’t really tell, and he didn’t say. 

You were more like coworkers than anything else, to the point that he barely spoke once one of you started readying for bed, like an unwritten boundary. Not that night. He’d broken into a hotel with two beds, one for each of you. That night, instead of his usual steady rhythm of breaths that eventually lengthened into sleep, there was just pensive silence.

Silence was the worst part of your new life. Silence allowed doubts and fears to creep into the gaps between breaths, clawing out space for larger worries. Bucky was quiet, but he was rarely silent.

“It’s not cold,” he finally said, almost accusatory.

You didn’t know how to respond. You weren’t cold, you were in shock. Death was everywhere and nowhere; either you fought for your life or saw the evidence of those who’d lost that battle. Each choice came with terrible necessity. Had that sidecar been a necessity? 

The flashlight clicked on. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m not cold.”

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized. You were afraid for him. He was a supersoldier, but he wasn’t immortal. Bucky often went off by himself without saying anything to you--but what if someday he didn’t come back? 

A pillow landed on the queen sized bed beside yours, followed by a blanket, followed by Bucky, who threw himself onto his back beside you with as much care as he’d tossed everything else. He was so warm you could feel the heat radiating through the space that separated you, even though none of it carried through to his tone.

“You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

It was… exactly what you needed.

now

“I need to build it as high up as I can,” Bucky says.

“Not ‘we?’” you ask, nowhere near as breezy as you hoped.

“I need you to be here, safe.” He reaches out and grabs your hand with his smooth, river-damp metal one, squeezing just too much. It’s as calculated as it is unintentional, like your relationship. “This time, ‘safe’ is not with me.”

He can run for days, heal his own wounds, kill in so many ways it would take a week to list them all, and you still don’t want him to go alone.

You don’t say that, though.

Instead, you tuck yourself against Bucky’s chest, wrapping your arms around his drenched torso. There are no dryers, no radiators to hang your wet clothes on, no fireplace to dry them by. It’s a message.

He holds you close in the moonlight, his river water soaking into you, your unspoken love seeping into him.

then 

Bucky learned you fiercely.

After begrudgingly joining you the first time, he slept beside you from then on, handling it the same way he handled everything: with little explanation and an air of inflexibility. Suddenly you were two people who slept (slept, mind you) together, the metal plates of your lives shifting perfectly to fit that new reality. 

You didn’t fully understand what it all meant until the night Bucky went for a walk instead of getting into bed. He’d killed a man right in front of you that day--brief, brutal, and bleak--and you'd waited for him to come back, alone with your own brutal and bleak thoughts. Had survival destroyed your morality? Why had he been beautiful as he’d ended the attacker’s life? Couldn’t things go back to the way they were? You didn’t ask for this!

Then it hit you.

Neither did he.

You got to travel with him in 2019 because someone did things to him in the 40s that he’d never asked for.

Bucky came back, but that didn't help you purge those horrible thoughts, not until he sighed in obvious annoyance and threw an arm over your hip, dragging you back against his chest like it was an obligation.

Only then could you sleep.

And so could he.

now

The moon is too high to shine through your borrowed window anymore, so Bucky leads you back to the bed in the dark. He guides your clothes over your head and down your hips as unerringly as a marksman who knows the specs of his weapons. When he kisses you, it’s sloppy and imprecise, like he doesn't have time to come up with a plan other than 'must touch, now.'

He drops you onto your back on the bed and straightens up, stripping off his shirt. You figure that out by the sound the sodden fabric makes on the hardwood floor, a wet thunk followed by the metal pinging noise his belt buckle makes.

A strange realization hits you: for the first time since everything went to hell, you don’t want water stains on the floor. This could be your place, yours and his. The thought warms the places where you’d pressed up against Bucky’s wet clothes, but soon his kisses do that for you, furnace-hot yet gentle as the curl of smoke from your frequent campfires.

You burn for him, and you have since before he touched you with intent and looked at you with desire. 

then

Post-apocalyptic isolation was finally getting to you.

The warehouse was cold, impersonal, and dangerous enough that no one lived there, despite being a single building surrounded by miles of possibly-fertile fields. Back when it was operating, that had protected the county population, and now that it was not, its position could best be called strategic. No one could sneak up on you if you were diligent, but the monotony of guard duty was wearing on you. So was the wind coming off of the unrelenting central plains.

You'd never seen Bucky that frustrated before. He came to bed each night tense and sullen, even angry, and instinctively, you’d done your best to give him space. It was only in the last few nights that ‘space’ had included sleeping separately, despite the chill of early autumn that seeped into your bones from the concrete floor.

Day five of that singular brand of loneliness happened to be day thirteen at that location. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“Let me help you.” Your tone was wounded, but you didn’t raise your voice.

“You are helping.”

“There’s no point in me watching for nonexistent scavengers when whatever you’re doing isn’t working down here! Especially since--” Your words turned to ash in midair. You’d been about to say ‘especially since you won’t sleep with me anymore,’ which made your relationship sound vastly different than what it actually was.

Bucky smiled for the first time in days. “Go on.”

“No way. Mad Max himself couldn’t drag it from me.”

“I think I saw that one,” he said, swiping a precious candy bar from the special stash and sitting on a stack of pallets. “Sand and cars?”

You choke out a laugh. “If any of the filmmakers are still alive, can you even imagine--”

“They probably murder anyone that brings it up.” Bucky wrapped up the rest of the candy bar and held it up like he was about to toss it to you. “Tell me.”

Your chest felt like you’d swallowed lighter fluid. He looked happier than he had in days, and you had no idea if telling him the truth would toss a match or douse it.

Well, you lived with enough fear as it is.

“Fine,” you said with fake annoyance. “I was going to say that it’s hard to sleep without you breathing on my neck and hogging the blanket.” The plan was to be flippant, to avoid seeing his response, but an arsonist can never look away from their own blaze.

Bucky was still sitting the way he had been before, but you could see the tension ebbing from his shoulders. His metal hand relaxed its grip on the pallet with the same slow relief as the growing smug look on his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, impudent and inflammatory.

“Yeah. Give me the candy bar.”

“Oh, I will,” Bucky grinned. He stood up with the kind of confident menace that had sold many an action movie ticket.

“Oh my god, turn that off!” you yelped, poised to run. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Sand,” he said. You bit your lip as he continued, “I can use it to shore up-- Never mind.”

Bucky’s gaze was intent as he started walking in your direction. It was the same kind of focus he used to defend your lives, with only difference being the impudent light in his eyes. You backed away (never turn your back on a predator) as swiftly as you could, heart pounding in your delighted chest.

Seconds later you realize he’d herded you against a dividing wall and he was still advancing. It was absurd, sexy as hell, and the aforementioned lighter fluid had completely replaced your blood volume. One touch and you’d be aflame. 

Bucky didn’t touch you.

He stopped mere breaths away, leaning his metal forearm on the wall. Bucky brought the half-wrapped candy bar up where you could see it and then ripped away the wrapping with his teeth, his eyes glittering with challenge. Holding your gaze, he brought it to your mouth.

You were breathing so heavily your breasts grazed his chest, sparking brushfires each time. Still, this was a contest of sorts, and you had precious few chances to go toe to toe with this man. You waited until the heat of your mouth smeared the chocolate on your lower lip, and only then did you move--shoving his hand to the side and arching up to kiss him.

His groan ignited something in both of you. He pulled you close with a rough hand at your thigh, curving your leg around him and taking charge of the kiss. It was exhilarating, full of the heat of something long-desired. You grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, dug your fingernails into his hair, your other hand skating over the bare metal of his arm.

Suddenly he pushed back on the wall behind you with enough force to shake the cinderblocks, eyes wild, hands at the hem of his tank top. You nodded, scraping your elbows in your haste to strip off your clothes. It took just seconds before you were on each other again, Bucky half carrying you to the corner of the warehouse where you’d piled up your bedding. He was already pumping his fingers in and out, sucking a brutal kiss on your neck even as he knelt on the pile of ragged quilts.

“You are so fucking strong-- yes, like that,” you gasped out with your eyes screwed so tightly you saw a spray of sparks. The white-hot pleasure practically rang in your ears, and then he was there, splitting you apart and putting you back together, with the taste of him healing the gaps.

“You smell just like every morning I wanted to do this,” Bucky growled into your skin. The pinpoint pain of his fingertips digging into your hip was so real, so him that you were speechless. All you could do was drag your lips across every inch you could reach, arching your back to drive the two of you toward the wreckage of your former selves.

When release came it was a second nuclear event, him panting into the join of your neck and shoulder, your hands buried in his hair.

now

There is a luxury to darkness and patience, one you never would have guessed at in the Time Before.

Bucky doesn’t have to see the ecstasy on your face to know his expert caresses are sending you skyward. You don’t have to watch him throw his head back to know he’s about to come apart inside you.

He’s seen the silhouette of your body backlit by the sunset as you ride him.

You’ve watched the lethargy of pleasure-bought peace lift months of his guilt.

Things will never go back to the way they used to be, but just as you’ve learned to navigate the chaos of the current world, you’ve also learned the comfort of being truly known.

Tomorrow, Bucky will head up the mountain to build one piece of a larger device various Avengers have been constructing across the world. Stark had called it a cosmic smoke signal, a last-ditch effort to call for rescue. After all this time, you’re not sure your heart is in it anymore. It’s engaged elsewhere; you haven’t just learned to adapt, you’ve learned to thrive with Bucky at your side.

Still, the others are counting on the two of you, and it’s all about balance. Whether the next mission is a fiery trip to the stars or the steady puff of a hand-built cookstove, you’re ready for what comes next.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

[anpanham]

Hazbin Hotel character thoughts / impressions (Episodes 1 & 2)

1/12/24

UM. what a weird first actual post for my blog for this year... this is long, and i miss making ACTUAL blog posts instead of small threads... And i've explained on my twitter my thoughts on Hazbin / Helluva from a critical standpoint and artist from art separation, yadda yadda yadda---

ANYWAY... Episodes 1 and 2 of Hazbin are (Officially) out now, and i have some thoughts on the characters i wrote down after watching (In bullet points, because most of these are fresh-from-the-brain thoughts i wrote on my tablet from my bed)

(Spoiler alert, Sir Pentious isn't ruined and I AM SO GLAD. my snake babygirl... ilu)

Read on, if you wanna, spoiler warning btw!!!!!

CHARLIE NOTES

-Charlie is good., Charlie is cute, but i fear for her safety, not everyone can new redeemed. she's like steven universe at points i stg 😭 (not a jab but i think it's funny)

-i like how they gave Charlie bags under her eyes a lot, she is a tired princess just like all of us

-She gives off elementary school teacher vibes but in a wholesome way

-Charlie's hair is SO CUTE MESSY..

-PERFECT voice /gen

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VAGGIE NOTES

-GIRLBOSS (still, but more)

-Vaggie is still cool, she just loves her gf and is sick of everyone's bs but is still supportive...

-If she doesn't get into a bloody death match with Alastor (and win) i will be disappointed /hj

She doesn't seem to have as much of a temper as she did in the pilot, but seems more dead inside

-Good voice!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ANGEL DUST NOTES

-Angel... hm. Angel. he's Angel, for sure. Hi, Angel!

Insecure about a lot, but also YOU CAN BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT!!!!! if vox doesn't kill val angel should. please and thank u.

Also his voice is alright, just need to get used to it a little more

Also i hope he's not too bratty jealous of sirpent / whoever else charlie praises because again, it's ON HIM TO COOPERATE WITH HER CAUSE MORE??? ignoring his other stress sources (Val)

-Waiting for him and Husk to kiss. I know it's coming

-Just fucking block Val's number and rip up the contract (YES i know it goes deeper than that...)

-NUGGS. I SCREECHED IRL /POS

THEY GAVE HIM A HEART ON HIS BUTT!!!!! S TIER REDESIGN

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ALASTOR NOTES

-At first i was kinda Eh about his voice but it's grown on me, the radio filter is a little more subtle than the pilot but it's still there which i'm glad for

Delightfully passive aggressive

-Weird magic still, there doesn't seem to be any limits to it... we need to know what his weakness is...!!!!! please (maybe that will come later??) ....... i theorize he has underworld contact (Shadow-world, because of the shadow imagery?) , the underworld might be different from Hell maybe? (Where do those fucking tentacles come from, also weird monochrome demons)

-Interesting he was gone for 7 years. 7 is an angelic number. HMMMMMM (sealed away by angels somehow??)

-Punchable (Vaggie please)

-Weirdly enjoyable and not genuinely hateable like some of the other characters, but i also want to see his demise, maybe his sadism is rubbing off on me, but i want to see it badly...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SIR PENTIOUS NOTES

-Sir Pentious... u are so good.. probably has some of the best writing so far, maybe... he's my favorite so. hhHHmm

his voice is different but at the same time it's what you'd expect, i like it a lot... so silly, i pat him and his silly hat

-Pathetic old man. You win my heart (50x as much)

-Only one egg spoke so far, i wonder if they'll all have unique voices this time (the Japanese dub of the pilot did that lol)

-Genuinely a joy every moment he was onscreen (Too fucking cute... GRRRR)

-How did he get into contact with Vox? Why would Vox want anything to do with him if he thinks he's a loser? (I guess easy access into the Hotel) ...Fuck em either way (DON'T BE MEAN TO SNAKE MAN)

-Cool temporary stunning hypnosis, maybe we'll see him coil and bite next, the snake attack traits are fun

-His autism vibes grow stronger and it's canon in my heart

-We LOVE a redemption song. please stay in the hotel with everyone, don't fuck it up!!! you're a good noodle.... 😭 The song was genuinely so cute... it's probably going to be the highlight of EVERYTHING for me, besides Nuggs..

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HUSK NOTES

-i luv u kitty

-His voice is different but captures "Grumpy old alcoholic" perfectly

-His heart needs to be melted...

-Him holding the script in front of the camera was great

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NIFFTY NOTES

-Niffty is a BIG COWARD. you can still love a "Bad boy" who's a redeemed bad boy!!!! just because he's not morally bad doesn't Not make him a Bad Boy. fuck u (i still like you)

-Her voice is really cute, also her nightgown.. though finding out she doesn't have dark bug limbs but is just wearing gloves and stockings surprised me more than it should've... put them back

-Also autism vibes, love it

-She still frightens me a bit

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

V TRIO NOTES

VOX -----

-Seems to carry the team, voice has grown on me

-I can't stop looking at his weird finger claws, they almost look like

he's just wearing things over his fingers, i dig it

-Interesting hypnosis power, i assume Alastor is immune

-Why can't Alastor and Vox just compromise and create a podcast?

-Hates Val (sorry shippers) ,,... kind of expected it since in old official sources it's been shown that he's been abused by Val too

-This isn't a note but everytime Alastor said "THE TV IS BUFFERING~" in their duet, the player kept fucking up 😭

-Decent song, I like seeing him and Al argue

-I surprisingly don't hate him! i'm glad. i wanted to like him (though, it's only been 2 episodes so far...)

------

VALENTINO ---------

-More manchild vibes than i expected tbh

-Voice is alright but his accent is weirdly inconsistent for some reason???? interesting direction

-His manipulation is shown well in the voicemail scene with Angel, he's literally got the "Nice Guy" energy

-Surprisingly didn't order Vox around as much as i thought he would

-Why does he have girl Fizzy bots...

-Die?

------

VELVETTE

-Fashion design isn't something i expected, but then again i didn't know that much about her prior other than she's obsessed with social media

-British is also not what i expected but cool

-Uh. she didn't really stick out to me that much...sorry..... she's fine tho

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ADAM & LUTE NOTES

-Personally do not like how these angels look so menacing, i get that they're technically bad, but... make them look more angelic besides halos and wings??? they could easily be mistaken for hell residents. Also again, i feel like angels should swear less and drop swears in critical / good timed moments, it would be funnier... subtlety is not a thing i guess

-Adam's guitar solo was good tho, not really feeling his character tho, he's just an asshole but that's the point

-Adam looks like the fucking dress meme. I can't unsee it

-Lute is pretty...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

KATIE KILLJOY & TOM TRENCH NOTES

-Brandon Rodgers

-They sure were there for a second!

-i luv tom

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All in all...

Episode 1: 6-7/10

Episode 2: 8.5/10

[adrixivy]

So I saw a comment in this post. Someone wanted to know what attitude Peter is giving after the mission. You ask and I shall deliver‼️

So I said he went loco after waking up. He really did. He knows he can’t skip the debrief because Fury is gonna be a little bitch about it and he doesn’t want to go through that hassle so he walks straight to the meeting table, ignoring everyone’s look or question of concern. Maybe a little nod to Natasha’s look of concern is the most he will acknowledge. Anyone else? Attitude is served with small witty remarks leaving them stunned.

For example!

Tony asking if he’s okay and whether he wants to skip the briefing as he walks by the scowling spider’s side: You okay bud? Why don’t you go rest?

Tony simply backs away quietly when Peter glares at him, not wanting to say anything since Tony purely asked out of care and concern. The least he can do is keep quiet and silently tell the older man he doesn’t want to talk right now. (Spoiler alert, Tony does NOT get the same kindness he has spared to him now)

Sam was walking close behind and scoffs at Peter’s behavior, thinking he’s being more of a brat than he usually is and he actually says it to Bucky who doesn’t comment anything because he knows Peter’s enhanced hearing can hear him so he backs away from Sam. Sam, confused and looks back at Bucky while walking bumps into Peter who doesn’t even move when bumped into yet Sam falls on his butt. The Avengers snickers seeing the scene and when Sam looks back at Peter, he’s met with a small satisfied smirk as the teen walks away. Sam is being held back by Bucky AND Steve.

Then Clint, thinking he can lighten up the mood by wrapping his arm around the teenager’s shoulder alongside with his jokes was flabbergasted when he was thrown to a nearby wall and web covering his mouth in a blink of an eye. The Avengers stare dumbfounded (Thor is the one person going “OHHHH”) at Clint on the floor, barely able to get up and the teenager resting on the ceiling, sitting upside down. He finds it more comfortable than the chairs Shield provides. Clint’s mouth remained webbed shut for two hours because Peter is the only one with the solution.

Fury is obviously displeased with how Peter is acting, not understanding the STRUGGLES a superhero teenager who has school the next day alongside homework like him has. So when Fury is firmly telling him to come down, he simply lizard blinks before dropping a Mbaku on the man. (He spent some time with Shuri in Wakanda and whenever Mbaku was with Okoye, he overheard him always calling her it)

Peter in the most calm but you can tell he’s terribly tired voice: You bald-headed demon, who do nothing of the hard work, should keep your big ass mouth which have nothing useful to say, shut. And what the hell is the point of this?(the debrief) Telling us how we did our job and how much better we can do it next time. There won’t be a next time if you keep this up, because remember, you can never do the things you tell us to do without us.

Fury is silenced. Tony and Thor is cackling, Clint muffled laughter can be heard, Natasha is chuckling, Steve is trying his best to keep his giggles quiet, Sam(reluctantly) and Bucky is clapping and Bruce doesn’t even dare to smile as he nervously eyes the fuming pirate.

Peter huffs and simply gets down and walks away. The Avengers decided that the debrief is basically over within those five minutes and walks out too. Tony goes over to Peter and wrapping his arm around Peter and saying he’s proud but he mentions the glare Peter gave him earlier and Peter pauses and pushes Tony’s arm off

Peter: Being petty about that? As if you didn’t do worse. Taking my suit because you didn’t like it when I basically did the same stupid things you did before you started becoming a little mature as an adult.

Tony’s mouth is wide open, jaw dropped in shock and the Avengers are laughing at him, particularly Sam and Bucky’s being the loudest as Peter walks away and into his room. His own son destroyed him!

The next day, Peter is apologising to everyone profusely, especially to Tony for being so mean. He may gave a little insincere apology to Clint and Sam but it still was an apology. Fury didn’t get one.

[softhairedhotch]

VERY LATE POST but i wrote a quick thing and wanted to post itttttt aaron hotchner x male reader you and aaron get locked in a bathroom for seven minutes. warnings/content: kissing, alcohol consumption, drunkeness, lil dash of penemily, flirting n kissing n making outtt, pre-relationship fun <3 word count: 1.4k also on ao3!

seven minutes in heaven

“I can't remember how it feels to kiss you,” Penelope manages to get out, sighing as she looks off into the distance. “I mean, I know that you're a good kisser, but… God. You're a good kisser.”

You feel your face burn at her admission, laughing to yourself as everyone turns to look at you. Derek raises an eyebrow and says, “Pretty boy, you've kissed my baby girl? Thought you were, y’know, gay and all that.”

“I am,” you reply with a shrug. 

“Yet you kissed her?”

“Made out with, is the right term,” Emily adds with her own giggle. “They were pretty drunk and Penny dearest got all handsy.”

“And who was I to deny such a pretty lady?”

“Wait,” Spencer butts in. “You're saying that you… you two had, that you did, that you, you slept together?”

“No,” you laugh. “Just some casual kissing and groping. You know, between friends.”

Penelope snorts and bursts out into giggles, dropping her head against your shoulder. “I forgot about the groping, but I do remember being thoroughly impressed!”

“Ew,” Derek groans, “did not need to know that!”

Dave laughs into his glass of whiskey, Spencer rubs at his eyes tiredly, and Emily throws her head back with raucous laughter. JJ giggles alongside Penelope, far more awkwardly and reserved due to not drinking as much as everyone else, and Aaron… well. He stares at you with dark eyes, a small smirk on his lips as he runs his thumb over the rim of his glass. When your eyes meet his, however, it jolts him out of his stupor and he looks away, a small blush tinting his cheeks. You cock an eyebrow at him, confused yet curious by his response, but he refuses to look back at you and you let it go, feeling your stomach flip a few times.

After everyone calms down, Penelope gasps and jumps up from her seat, stumbling for a moment before regaining her balance. “Oh! I know what we should do!”

“What, have an orgy?” Dave says, deadpan.

Penelope flushes a dark red. “That is not what I was gonna say. What I was gonna say is that we should play seven minutes in heaven!”

“Oh, god, that’ll cross so many boundaries!” Emily snorts.

“You don’t have to do anything with the person you get, of course, but if you want to then it’ll be fun!”

Aaron shakes his head. “Perhaps not.”

Dave smirks. “Don’t you wanna have some fun?”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Dave?”

“No, sorry,” Dave starts, sighing dramatically, “you’re not my type.”

The room bursts into laughter again and Aaron tilts his head at Dave with an amused look, downing his drink instead of responding. His eyes meet yours again for the briefest moment and you catch the playful glint in his eyes, unable to stop your mind reeling with all the possible meanings it could have. 

“So,” Penelope starts once the laughter has died down, grabbing an empty beer bottle from beside Derek’s foot and placing it in the center of the coffee table before sitting back down. “Let’s get going! I’ll go first!” She spins the bottle and it flies off, clattering on the ground beside Aaron’s foot. “Oh, god, does that count?”

“For your sake,” Aaron starts, picking up the bottle and placing it on the table, “I’ll say no.”

She blushes and smiles. “Right, yeah, that’d be awkward, huh? Okay, here goes.” Spinning it again, it lands on Emily. “Ohhhh my god, yes! I’ve always wanted to kiss you!”

Emily laughs and stands up, reaching out to pull Penelope up to her feet, and they drunkenly giggle together as they enter the bathroom. Derek huffs out a laugh and reaches out for the remote beside him, turning up the music. When Dave raises an eyebrow at him, Derek shrugs. “What? Just giving them some privacy.”

“Good man.”

Five minutes later, they leave the room, both of them blushing a bright red. Lipstick is scattered all over Emily’s face, mostly on her cheeks and dipping under her shirt, and Penelope’s hair is noticeably dishevelled.

“That wasn’t even seven minutes,” you tell them as they sit down on either side of you on the couch.

Spencer nods. “It was 5 minutes and 27 seconds, to be exact.”

“Well,” Emily smirks, lifting her drink to her lips and taking a slow sip, “we didn’t wanna go too far.”

“Had to stop ourselves,” Penelope grins, before turning to you. “Anywho, it’s your turn!”

Anxiously, you reach for the bottle and spin it. It does a full circle once, twice, three times, before slowing down and inching toward Spencer. Relief fills you when you notice it hasn’t landed on your boss and long-time crush when fate seems to laugh down at you and turns the bottle a few inches to the right, pointing directly at Aaron’s knee. The room erupts into cheers and laughter and before you can say anything, you and Aaron are being herded out of the living room and into the bathroom.

“Uh…” you start, trailing off when you turn to look at him properly in the new light. His eyes bore into yours and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. “We can just stand here, it’s fine.”

“What? Don’t I get to see how good of a kisser you are, too? Why does Garcia get to have all the fun?”

Your jaw drops at that. “What?”

Aaron’s eyes darken as his eyes drop to your lips. Taking a step toward you, he reaches up to cup your cheek in his large hand, his face inches from yours. “I wanna see it for myself.”

“If you say so,” you manage to get out, flashing him a confident smirk and pressing your lips against his.

At first, it’s tentative, both of your lips moving slowly against the other. But then, to your surprise–as if this isn’t all a big surprise, anyway–he gently bites down on your bottom lip and plunges his tongue into your gasping mouth, deepening the kiss. Shock floods your veins but you take it all with stride, the liquid confidence egging you on, and push him back against the door with ease, pressing into him harder. It’s his turn to gasp and you can’t help but chuckle against him, feeling as if your skin is on fire.

“Shoot,” he whispers against you, chasing your lips when you pull back for air. “That was… you… Garcia was right, you are a good kisser.”

“When is she ever wrong?”

He huffs out a laugh. “True.” 

Realising you’re still pressed up against him, you flush and take a step back, feeling less confident now. Immediately, Aaron reaches out and wraps his arms around your back, pulling you back in. “Oh,” is all you can say.

“You didn’t think I hadn’t noticed the way you look at me, did you?”

You shrug, grinning. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed how you looked at me either?”

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Leaning forward, you press your lips against his with a hum. “Why didn’t you?”

“Touché.”

The two of you kiss again, starting off slow but quickly devolving into a desperate need to be as close as possible. His hands tug you as close as he can as you hold him firm against the bathroom door, fingers lost in his hair and tugging the strands in all different directions. Suddenly, someone starts banging on the door, making the two of you fly apart.

“Come on, love birds, your seven minutes are up!” Derek laughs.

“Oh, god,” you whisper, glancing at yourself in the mirror. “You think they’ll believe us if we say nothing happened?”

Aaron glances at the mirror and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Would you prefer me to say yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then no, but I’m sure we can convince them.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.”

There’s another knock at the door. “Eight minutes now!”

“We should leave, huh?” You say, walking toward the door and reaching for the handle. Before you grab it, Aaron’s hand is tugging you back. “Hotch?”

“Can I take you out?” He asks, tilting his head and giving you the cutest look ever. “I mean… on a, on a date.”

You smirk and kiss him once more, opening the door and walking out, him following close behind like a confused puppy. “If you spin the bottle and it lands on me, you’ll get your answer.”

You’ve never seen Aaron try so hard at a silly party game until that day.

➥ TAG LIST: @hotchs-big-hands @supercriminalbean @pandorasdreamings

↪JOIN THE TAG LIST↩

[221bshrlocked]

interesting indeed

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

Words: 8901

Warnings: Tech wearing jeans. Female Masturbation. Tech watching reader masturbate so throw in a dash of accidental voyeurism. Consensual foreplay. Slightly rough manhandling, just like a little bit. Thigh riding because jeans! Dirty talk...or how I think Tech would sound if he were to talk you through riding him. Fingering. Squirting.

A/N: Not going to lie, this is a surprise even to me. Never thought I'd write for this cute nerd but I can't get over the fact that he's wearing jeans now so here you go. Also, this is totally in reference to this post because I wholeheartedly believe this is going to be a thing...if it isn't already. If Tech's character/vernacular doesn't seem right, do let me know how I can improve. Please and thank you.

No one was commenting on it, not that they should of course. They were all adapting to sudden and quite terrifying changes, and this was not on the list of important things that should be talked about. If none of them discussed the change of color in their armors, which was probably one of the last things still connecting them to Crosshair, this was definitely not going to make it to the evening chat. But it was still strange though, and you weren’t sure how to handle it. 

It occurred to you after several rotations of simply being incapable of thinking of anything else why you were so hung up on it. On him. 

He looked good, really good. You always found him attractive, more so than the others if you were being honest. But now that he was out of the confines of his armor and those rather tight blacks beneath the heavy protective gear, you couldn’t help yourself, groaning and swearing beneath your breath any time he so much as walked past you to fix something or discuss the mission details, again, with Hunter. His form was still hidden from your eyes, with parts of the armor still covering his torso from your hungry gaze, but you could see him clearly now, at least his lower half.

Sith hells, his thighs were more muscular than you thought, and each time he stretched to fix a part of the ship out of reach, or even shifted in his seat, the holsters wrapped tightly around his thighs would tug against the fabric of his jeans and show you just how meaty and thick they are. 

Fuck, the jeans. That’s how you got into this current predicament. The day Tech started wearing those karking jeans was the day you cursed and thanked the maker for allowing such an invention to take place. He was tall, and you were always aware of how much shorter you were than him whenever he stood beside you or leaned down to show you whatever it was he wanted you to see on his holopad. You were so used to the plastoid armor that when you saw him walking out of his private room—eyes staring into the datapad, and hands clicking away as if he wasn’t wearing the most revealing fucking pair of pants to exist—you choked on your breath and had to walk away to avoid suspicion. Gods above, he somehow looked taller in those jeans than in his armor, and the knowledge that his slender form would now be available to your eyes all day every day made you sigh in irritation. It was already so difficult to attend to the tasks him and Echo handed you, and this just made it worse. So much worse. Then there was the matter of Echo and Hunter already teasing you about your little crush that everyone was aware of except him. It was enough as is, so you didn’t need to give them more ammo to use against you whenever he was around, even though he was oblivious to your longing gazes, and their irritating remarks. 

Almost on queue, the man walks past you and leans over the bar to grab a drink for himself. Your eyes roam down his tall, slender yet muscular form, stopping to appreciate how perfectly the jeans fit around his ass. You shake your head at the sight of him. It was so unfair for him to look this delicious in such a simple article of clothing. Did his butt always look so round and plump? Or were the jeans giving him all those “assets”? So far gone in your inappropriate thoughts, you don’t notice Hunter pulling up a seat next to you and leaning a little forward to follow your line of sight until he speaks. 

“Stare any harder and he might actually notice you checking him out this time.”

The rough sound of Hunter’s voice snaps you out of your haze and you flinch rather dramatically when the comment comes off louder than you’d like it to be, spilling half of your drink all over yourself and groaning in irritation when Hunter laughs at your obvious distress. You stand up and swipe across your shirt, only to run right into Tech as soon as you turn around to walk away from Hunter, in turn spilling both of your drinks over Tech’s armor and jeans. He hisses when the cold liquid runs down his clothes and you apologize profusely, grabbing both bottles and setting them down before looking for anything to hand him so he can dry himself.

You see Hunter from your periphery reaching out with something for you to take, and you narrow your eyes at him in warning as you snatch the towel from his hand and immediately pat down the sticky liquid on Tech’s armor. 

“Did you know it takes approximately 12 hours for the smell of spotchka to come off of plastoid? Unfortunately, the same cannot be said regarding the stains, which I believe will take much longer to be removed.” You sigh in relief as soon as Tech does the usual and goes on with whatever knowledge he knows about the predicament at hand. When you glance at Hunter though, you find him smirking at you, and you hate the eyebrow he raises at you as he sips from his drink and watches your flustered reaction.  

“I’m so sorry Tech, I was so distracted and- kriff,” you wipe at the chest armor to the best of your abilities, incapable of looking up at Tech out of fear of his reaction, or worse, your own. He swipes at the datapad several times, and you find it cute that he cares more about the technology on him than his attire, which he clearly stated would take a long time to thoroughly clean. 

“It is in your best interest to constantly be aware of your surroundings, Y/N, regardless of distractions. Having said that, what could possibly be distracting here? Wrecker and Omega are quiet, which is rather alarming now that I think of it. Echo is reading, and Hunter is,” he stops checking the holopad and looks up at Hunter, roaming his eyes across his brother’s presence before returning his attention to the task at hand again, “well, he’s doing nothing.”

“I- I was just thinking that…umm,” you trip over your words, unsure of how you were supposed to respond. When he doesn’t bother to ask you to finish your response, you shake your head and continue wiping his armor. 

“Funny you should mention your armor, Tech. She was just thinking about it.” Hunter says from behind you, making you turn around quickly and pout at him. He chuckles at your response, again, shrugging his shoulders at you when you mouth a few swears at him as you fiddle with the towel in your hand. 

“Whyever would you be thinking of my armor?” The question catches you off guard, and you look at Tech with wide eyes, parting your lips to try and offer him some reply that would get him to ignore you again. Before you do, however, Hunter beats you to it and provides another, equally-irritating, suggestion towards Tech, one that instantly sends your heart rate through the roof and makes you wish you were in the comfort of your bed. 

“Perhaps the lack thereof?” This time, you don’t bother looking at Hunter, knowing that he would only make things worse if you begged him to shut up again.

“We are not currently on a mission; naturally, there is no purpose for the remainder of the armor. However, now that we are no longer required to wear it all, I find myself more aware of the constraints it offered than before.” Tech gestures with his hand as he looks down at his form and presumably thinks of the several parts he was not currently wearing. You, on the other hand, can’t focus on anything, choosing to ignore everything he said except the word ‘constraints.’ 

“C-constraints?” You didn’t need to think of any type of constraints with relation to Tech, you really didn’t. But your mind decides to go off the rails, as it normally does whenever Tech is involved, and think of every naughty action the man can do to your body if he were to put you in constraints. Kriff, you would truly let him do anything he wanted with you, and you wouldn’t complain for a moment. You’d thank him for his attention, ask him what else he wanted to inflict upon you, and then beg him to put you out of your misery and do it already. 

Tech’s response doesn’t come immediately, and when you finally make eye contact with him, you find him staring intently at you, eyes shifting from your tense jaws to your tight neck to the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing increases by the second. You turn away from him, fidgeting with the towel for another moment before getting on your knees to get the lower part of the armor on his chest. As you continue to clean the plastoid on his body, you can’t help but let your gaze roam a little lower, but you get back to focusing on the armor again, unsure of what you would do if Tech were to notice you openly ogling his crotch. 

“Yes, there are several aspects of the Republic armor that hindered our movement. For example, it was difficult to remain seated for long periods of time. The plastoid dug into all the muscles of the body, thus making us more fatigued. Shoulder rotation was hindered at times due to the solidity of the back pieces, which, while advantageous during battle, were not useful on planets with more bodies of water, which required us to swim. Undoubtedly, the most unfortunate part of the armor was the codpiece. It made it near impossible for-” you were doing your best to focus on his ramblings, knowing that it would distract you from letting your mind run away with thoughts of touching him under more intimate circumstances. But as soon as he mentioned the codpiece, your brain went haywire and you started rubbing the damp spots on his inner thighs. Perhaps a part of you was aware of what you were doing, but you weren’t in-tune with the little bit of coherence still left in your neurons, already conjuring up the filthiest images involving yourself and the man above you. 

“Kriff,” he swears beneath his breath, instantly looking away from Hunter to your kneeling body as you begin to touch closer to where the blood was rushing down his form. 

“That will not be necessary, Y/N. I can- ahh,” he tries to stop you, he really does, but before he can reach out to your shoulders and grab your attention, your hand ascends up his thighs and makes a rather harsh pass across his crotch and the very visible tent in his jeans. Time stands still as soon as the sound of Tech’s moan hits your ears, and you widen your eyes in horror at what you’ve just done to him, in public, in front of his brother. You look up and notice a blush forming on his cheeks and neck, and you bite into your cheek when you see his hands shaking slightly while his chest expands rapidly with each short, harsh breath he takes. 

“Oh maker, I- I didn’t mean to…I was paying attention and- I have to go.” You throw the towel on the table and run out of Cid’s parlor, ignoring Tech as he calls your name along with what you were sure were Mando’a curses.

“Mesh’la wait!” Tech takes two steps towards you before he notices that you won’t listen to him, and he throws his head down in defeat as he makes his way back to Hunter, who is now joined by Echo. 

“Well that’s new,” Hunter comments, glancing at Echo with a grin on his face as he watches his brother fix his goggles and take the towel you were just holding. 

“It was a slip of the tongue, I-” He knows neither of his brothers will buy the excuse, he doesn’t if he were being honest with himself, but he wants to avoid whatever conversation he was sure was about to commence. 

“Hmm, sure it was. Bet you want to slip that tongue somewhere else.” Echo says, and if it weren’t for the fact that Tech was now thinking of every single twitch of your body language as you cleaned him up, he would have maybe decked him and walked away. But he was in no mood to fight, let alone argue with his brother. 

“Grow up, Echo. This is hardly the time to be crass.” He looks up at the two men in front of him, only to drop the irritated expression when he notices them staring at him with disbelief and annoyance in their eyes. 

“What?” He asks, grabbing the datapad from the table and shoving it back into his belt. 

“Go after her you di’kut.” Echo growls, shaking his head as soon as Tech frowns at him and begins to tell him why he shouldn’t. 

“She is clearly in distress, and I highly doubt the awkwardness of this moment will-”

“For kriff’s sake, Tech. Go. To. Her.” Hunter interrupts him before he can say anything else, and when Tech realizes that neither of them were planning on letting this go any time soon, he looks to the floor and shakes his head, grudgingly listening to them and heading out of the parlor. 

“Fine.” 

He almost reaches for the holopad as he walks to your place, but he stops himself before he turns it on, knowing that there was nothing on there that might help the situation now. He thinks back to what happened moments ago, recalling your reaction to the proximity between the both of you as well as Hunter’s responses. There was something missing in the whole ordeal, and if Tech didn’t know better, he’d think there was a meaning behind everything that was said. It’s moments like these that Tech understood he would have to read in between the lines, a task that he didn’t prefer attempting and was frankly not interested in. If you were dealing with a personal problem, one that you would rather share with Hunter than him, then Tech would respect that. Granted it made him uncomfortable, or perhaps annoyed was the right word here, but he wouldn’t dream of forcing you to tell him. 

But maker if he wasn’t still interested in your behavior. There was a clear shift in your body language when he walked over to your table, little gestures that changed rapidly when you began cleaning his armor and as soon as Hunter shared his thoughts on your reasons behind being distracted. 

Tech halts in his steps when he looks up and sees that he’s reached your place. He stares at the open windows and feels relieved when he sees that the lights are still on. Heading up the stairwell, he thinks over what he should say when you open the door. Should he mention the reason behind you leaving, or should he apologize for becoming erect when you were only trying to help? Should he tell you that he wasn’t bothered by your touch or should he explain why he was aroused to begin with? The last thought makes him stop in his tracks, and he meditates for a long while on why such an option would come forward in his mind to begin with. 

“Hmm, that is rather interesting.” Tech comments out loud before he continues his ascent to your place, and once he reaches the door to your apartment, he knocks on it and waits for you to answer it. When you don’t make an appearance, he knocks once again, his nerves beginning to get to him. As the silence of the night fills the stairwell, Tech decides to push in the combination to your door, only to find that you had left it unlocked upon your arrival. 

That is strange, you were always so careful on the Marauder. Surely you would be as careful when it came to your own home?

He walks in slowly and takes a quick look across the empty space, finding you nowhere in sight. Before he takes another step further, he hears the faint sound of your voice emitting from your room, whimpering and groaning as you cursed beneath your breath. 

“Oh fuck…fuck, ahhh-”

Tech is on high alert instantly, and he takes his blaster out without thinking twice, slowly approaching your room as quietly as he can so he doesn’t alert the intruder clearly present in your bedroom.

“Please…just, I can’t. I- need to…”

He hears you again, but this time, you’re almost sobbing quietly, your voice muffled by an object being held to your mouth. Perhaps the intruder was asking about him and his brothers, or maybe, just maybe, you had managed to get yourself caught up with the wrong people. His heart is beating loudly against his chest, and he fears whatever might happen if he were to barge in there right this moment to try and save you. 

“F-fuck…ah fuck, that’s- hmmm, please…so close.”

Taking the last few steps to your room, Tech inhales deeply, preparing himself for whatever may happen before looking through the slightly ajar door.

And then he stops breathing altogether. 

There was no intruder in your room, there wasn’t anyone as a matter of fact. You were the only one in there, and from the looks of it, you were not struggling at all, but rather, enjoying the privacy of the moment. 

Well, the privacy that was taken away from you now that he stood still at your doorway, incapable of turning away from the beautiful sight of your naked body as you touched yourself, face contorting between pain and pleasure the harder and faster you shoved your small fingers into your-

“Please, Tech…I need you. I need you so badly, just- oh maker, keep going…right there.”

If Tech wasn’t absolutely sure that your eyes were closed, that you were unaware of his presence, he would have thought you were asking him to join you. But you were both too far gone in ecstasy, with your eyes shut tightly the quicker your ministrations became, and completely ignorant to the standing figure at your doorway, with your face shoved into your pillows as you rolled your hips into your hand. 

“That is interesting indeed.”

Never in his life did he ever speak without intending to. Granted, he often spoke when he didn’t have to, definitely when his opinion wasn’t sought out, but he never accidentally blurted out anything. So, when you scream at the top of your lungs and drag the covers across your skin, Tech flinches and nearly slams his head against the bedroom door. 

He quickly pushes the blaster back into the holster on his belt before fixing his goggles, and for the first time since he can remember, he doesn’t know what to do. 

“Tech what- what the fuck are you doing here?” He glances at you briefly and as much as he hates to admit it, the sight of your heaving chest and your damp skin shoots all blood flow in his system downwards. He was sporting a semi when you were wiping him, but after the show he just witnessed, he doesn’t bother looking down to know if his hardness is visible. He knows it is, and when he notices you looking down, he groans to himself and immediately places his hands in front of him to hide his erection.  

“I- Hunter and Echo told me to find you.” An apology would be better, that Tech is sure of, but his mind is suddenly filled with the image of your desperate limbs and shaking muscles as you searched for release. And maker in heaven, he could not get the sight of you out of his mind’s eye, at all. 

“What?” 

“When you left, they suggested I come and find you. Technically, they swore at me and told me to speak with you. So…here I am.” Tech clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as you continue to glare at him. 

“Tech, I cannot stress this enough but what the actual fuck?” Your voice is growing in pitch, albeit a little hoarse from how harsh you were breathing moments ago, and Tech forgoes the apology and decides to ask you the obvious question. 

“Is there something wrong with your hearing, Y/N? I will happily look into that for you, or perhaps-”

Well, what he thought was the obvious question in this case. 

“Nothing is wrong with my hearing, genius. My question isn’t so you can repeat to me how your brothers fucking forced you into coming here when you didn’t want to. I’m asking about why you were standing there without announcing yourself…watching me while I- umm,” the rest of the sentence trails off, and Tech tilts his head to the side when your sudden outburst turns into nothing but an embarrassed shift of your fiery gaze away from him and towards your fingers.

You’re angry, that’s obvious enough for Tech to see. But he doesn’t understand what exactly is the source of your anger. Is it your misunderstanding that he didn’t want to seek you out, or that he was probably asking about something irrelevant to the situation at hand, or maybe it was because he was watching you without your consent? He sets all of that aside when you trip over your words and refuse to say what you were clearly doing. 

“Matsturbate?” He finishes the rest of your thought for you, and frowns instantly when you yell at him again. 

“YES!!”

“It is nothing to be ashamed of, Y/N. It is completely natural to seek release when under an extraneous amount of stress. As a matter of fact, the numerous endorphins secreted within the brain and the central nervous system upon climax tend to-”

“Oh my sweet god Tech, please…please, just stop.” The exhausted tone of your voice snaps him out of his haze, and he quiets down when he looks up and sees you rubbing your forehead a little harder than you should. Kriff, he really doesn’t know what to say right now, and as the silence grows between the two of you, it occurs to Tech that maybe he should cross the bridge of awkwardness himself and coax you out of our shell. 

“I am confused. Not a moment ago, you were asking me to “keep going,” but now, you are requesting I stop?” It must be the right thing to say because that seems to get your attention rather quickly. Your eyes shoot to him not a second later, and Tech watches as understanding dawns on you, followed closely by shame, guilt, and embarrassment. Hmm, maybe this was the wrong thing to say then. 

“You…how long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long, but I did hear my name once, hence the outburst that, I presume, led to your discomfort.” You say nothing, and Tech refuses to break eye contact with you, wanting to see how your body and facial expressions react to his words. 

“I thought you had seen me, but your eyes were shut, making you completely oblivious to my presence. I- I was wondering, outloud as you know, why you could possibly call for me while you were masturbating but I-” His inner monologue is on his lips, the only way Tech knows how to process information that is shocking to him. He doesn’t mean to make you wince or shudder the longer he goes on, but as he stares at you now, with your naked thighs clenching tightly, and your lower lip pouting rather attractively to him, it finally hits him. 

There was only one meaning behind your actions. And the shift in your body language earlier in the parlor. And all those times you thought he didn’t hear you groan as he walked by you or whispered something to yourself when he leaned down to fix something. 

Oh.

“You were fantasizing about me.” It’s not a question, more of a comment really, a very crude, straightforward, conclusive comment. The thought of being the one to bring out such a need from you makes him twitch in his pants, and he tilts his head to the side again as he roams his eyes across whatever skin available for him to see, watching as you throw your head down and hide behind your palms. 

“Ugh, fuck me.” You breathe out into the night air, shaking your head at the absurdity of this whole ordeal. 

“I cannot see how that could help the predicament we find ourselves in. But…if you believe that is the solution to our problem, I will oblige, rather enthusiastically as a matter of fact.” The response comes instantly, making you look up with wide eyes at the man currently standing at your door.

“W-what?” You can’t help but ask, wanting to be sure that you heard him right, that this wasn’t another one of your fantasies where he breaks through the door and fucks you into kingdom come. 

“Honestly, Y/N, there must be something wrong with your hearing if-”

“Tech.” You say his name once, urging him to stop for a moment and try to read your reaction to his words. 

“I am not too sure what you are asking about at the moment. Are you asking me to repeat myself or explain my words?” He takes two steps closer to you, hands still covering his crotch from your sight out of fear of you misunderstanding him, or worse, making you feel even more uncomfortable. 

“Explain please.” You request rather shyly, and if Tech wasn’t preoccupied with finding the right words to respond to you, he would comment on how beautiful and erotic the sound of your voice was to him right now.

“You just asked me to “fuck you,” rather vulgar if I may say so myself-”

“It was a form of expression…I- I didn’t ask you to…you know.”

“Semantics…regardless of how you intended those words, I said that I am unsure as to how that could help. However, seeing as you have yet to reach climax, the fault of which is mine, and I am more-than-willing to offer you my aid, I would happily follow your advice and do whatever it is you think would resolve our predicament.” He says matter-of-factly, and with each word he throws at you, you feel yourself growing wetter. His response is too technical to your liking, but something about the way he phrases those words, and how adamant he is on not minding one bit sleeping with you, makes you suddenly experience a similar sense of desperation to what you always feel whenever he’s around. 

“Assuming you forgive my untimely and inappropriate intrusion… and consent, of course.” He adds as he takes another step and looks around the room briefly before returning his focus on you again. 

“And you do?”

“Of course I do.” He furrows his eyebrows at you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he is close to calling you an idiot for asking such a question. It’s only a second later that you begin to understand why he’s behaving this way, or rather, answering you with such a direct response. 

“Why?” You ask, wanting to make sure that he was saying what you think he was. 

“Why do I consent to having sexual intercourse with you?” Tech asks, and you hate his need to repeat whatever question is asked of him, but you quickly remember that this situation was probably new to him, and his mind was returning to what is comfortable for him so he can process it thoroughly, and without misunderstanding. 

“Yes.”

“Is it not obvious?”

“N-no. It isn’t.” You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was your return to meet him half-way. 

“I am attracted to you, have been since we first met. You are exceptional in what you do, quite intelligent for a regular human…and y-you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon.” His confession steals your breath away, and you stare at him in disbelief when your brain finally catches up with what he just revealed to you. 

You want to say so much to him. You want to thank the maker for his blunt demeanor because he finally put you out of your misery. You want to jump and scream at finally knowing what he thinks of you. You want to ask him why he’s never made a move on you since he’s shared your level of attraction for perhaps as long as you have. But none of those wants make it to the surface, and you swallow the lump in your throat when you finally decide how you want to break the silence washing over you. 

“Fuck me.”

“Is- is that a form of expression, or are you asking me to have sexual intercourse with you?” You’ve never heard him trip over his words this many times in one conversation before, let alone sound so reluctant when asking such a simple question. The thought of being the one who makes him nervous enough to stumble over such a simple question lights a deep heat in the pit of your stomach, and you don’t think over what you’re about to do, knowing you might backtrack quickly if the reality of your words and body language sets in. 

Taking in a deep breath, you drop the covers from around your body and kick them aside, revealing your nudity to Tech in hopes of driving your message across without yet another misunderstanding. 

“I am asking you to fuck me, Tech. Fuck me until I lose my voice. Fuck me until the only thing I can remember is your name. Fuck me until I can’t feel my legs from how hard you slam your thick cock into me. Fuck me until I feel you for days. Fuck me…until you cum so deep inside me that I feel you leaking out of me…and then fuck me some more.” You slowly get on your knees as you speak, lightly trailing your fingers across your breasts and down to your aching cunt, unable to hold back from smiling when you notice the blush adorning Tech’s cheeks move down to his neck. His hands are shaking lightly, and you crawl to the end of the bed without breaking his gaze, wanting him to see the depth of your hunger for him. 

“I see,” you thought he’d say more, but it makes sense that he isn’t inclined to be more talkative now. You wait for him to take the lead, not wanting him to feel the need to please you at his own expense. When he takes those last few steps towards you, you can’t help but lean forward into his space, wanting to feel overwhelmed by the heat of his body and the natural musk of his scent. Tech finally removes his hands from his crotch, but you don’t look down immediately, afraid he’d be embarrassed by your shamelessness. 

He stretches out his hand but stops midair, and you blink at him expectantly, unsure of why he wasn’t already touching you. 

“Mesh’la, may I touch you?” His voice is softer, and you make a mental note to ask him later what that word meant. You’ve heard it from him when you were making your escape, thinking that he was swearing at you, but as he whispers it to you now, with his eyes silently begging you to allow him to be near you, and his hands fidgeting and itching to extend a little further to trail across your damp skin, you realize it might mean something completely different. 

“Yes, please.”

As soon as he registers your response, he reaches out and cups your neck with one hand, slowly slithering his other arm around your waist and tugging you into his chest until there was no space in between the two of you. The cold of his plastoid makes you shiver, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, sighing his name with a whisper as he extends his fingers and rubs your lower lip with his thumb. 

“You are a marvelous creature,” Tech coos into your ear, teasing you with soft kisses across your heated cheeks, until he reaches the corner of your mouth, “and it would be my absolute pleasure to, as you put it so eloquently, fuck you until you lose your voice.” You nearly throw your head back but Tech grasps your chin and tilts it back to his mouth, looking one last time at the ecstasy etched on your features before sealing the night with the most breathtaking kiss. 

You’ve thought of this moment for so long, wondered how his lips would taste and feel against your own. You imagined him to be reluctant, unsure of what to do due to his lack of experience. But as Tech leans over you, once again reminding you of how much taller he is, you can’t really picture the kiss being different. He’s dominant, more so than you thought he’d be, swiping his fingers against the corner of your mouth until you part your lips for him. But he’s also gentle, a bit playful even, as he slips his tongue inside your mouth and gives you a taste of what you’ve begged him for. 

You melt against him, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss and takes control of your body. It must please him, the way you cling onto him for dear life as he continues to steal your breath away, because he groans deeply into the kiss and dips his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck. You can’t help the pornographic moan that fills the space between you as soon as you feel him tug harshly on your hair, and you shut your eyes to enjoy the moment as Tech hums with satisfaction, immediately attacking your neck in hopes of ensuring he has your undivided attention. 

“Ah Tech-” You moan as he spreads his hand across your lower back before digging his fingers into your skin. 

“Tell me mesh’la, what were you thinking of when I rudely interrupted you?” You can hear the smirk in his question, and although you wish you can find the smugness irritating, you shiver at the tone of his voice and the touch of his hands as they grow more desperate and rough by the minute. 

“I w-was thinking of…of you.” You barely manage to say, vaguely feeling one of your arms release from underneath his hold. You stretch your arm down and grasp onto the edge of his jeans, gasping lightly as he rolls his hips against your inner thighs and gives you a taste of what you’ve been craving ever since you laid eyes on him. 

“I am well aware of that, sweet one. I want you to tell me the images your filthy mind conjured up as you touched yourself…with details if you please.” He pronounces the last word with a nip to your shoulder, making you shudder in response and try to grab onto his shoulder again so you don’t fall backwards. 

“I pictured y-you coming after me…after I left the cantina, and- ah ffuck-” You scream out as soon as he lowers his hand and squeezes your ass once before holding onto your waist again.

“Focus.” He warns with a light pull to your hair, and you open your eyes for a moment to look down at him, almost sobbing when you see how far dilated his pupils are as he trails kisses and nips down your chest. Tech narrows his eyes at you, not caring for how overwhelming he might be making you feel as he wraps his lips around one nipple and sucks harshly on it. 

“And pulling me into the alley, and- fuck please, I need to-”

“Do go on.” He orders again, this time with a little less patience in his tone. You want to know what he might do to you if you disobey him, but you figured he’d most likely wish to discuss your limits, and his own, before diving into that sort of relationship. 

“I’m sorry…I- I imagined you slamming me against the wall, and pushing one of your thighs in between my legs, so I can- so you would…” You should have known he would fixate on parts of your body when he recognizes how sensitive you are, but you never imagined him to be so consistent in his handling of you. But here he was, promising you indescribable pleasure while holding off from actually pushing you over the edge. 

“Hmm, I thought I noticed that earlier.” Tech raises his eyes to look at you, waiting until you meet his gaze before licking a stripe across your sternum. You try to grab his hair but he quickly grips your wrist tightly, twisting it slowly so he doesn’t hurt you as he brings it behind your back. He holds you against him then, expertly moving your body as he pleases so he can mark your skin with his lips. 

“Please…I’m so- kriff, I need you. You don’t have to…”

“As gratifying as it is to know you do not require me to prepare you any further, I will have to disappoint.” There’s something about hearing him string a proper coherent sentence that drives you mad with lust, and you hate how easy it is for him to make a complete mess of you. But you say nothing, wanting to give yourself to the sensations he was bringing upon your body. 

Then he lets go of you all of a sudden and steps away, leaving you dazed and confused as to why he stopped touching you and pulled from your body. 

“Tech?”

“You must know by now that I seldom leave a job unfinished.” He claims matter-of-factly, fixing his goggles once before moving around your bed and standing near your pillow. He looks down at the state of your covers, then turns his attention to your damp, heaving chest as you try to gasp for air. Your confusion makes him twitch in his jeans, and he doesn’t bother to hide the shameless way he roams his gaze down your stomach to your wet folds. He stares at your thighs for longer than deemed appropriate, and hisses to himself as he fixes himself through the tight fabric of the jeans. You groan at the sight of him, gulping nervously when he leans down and removes his shoes, setting them aside neatly before doing the same with the heavy bag across his back. 

You watch in silence, not knowing what you should say in return. You don’t really understand what he meant by those words, and before you can ask him why he was stretching this out longer than necessary, he moves across your bed and moves all the pillows aside, perching himself up against the headboard of the bed and stretching his legs out until they almost touch your thighs. 

Tech doesn’t say anything else, and when you continue to remain immobile and silent, he raises a curious eyebrow at you before tapping his thighs twice.

“Well, would you rather stare at me all night long or come and take your pleasure from me?”

His question snaps you back to reality and you look down at his thighs when you notice his fingers tap quickly across his jeans, the mere sight of his impatience forcing you to move towards him. 

“Come on, little one. The night is filled with hidden pleasures, ones desperate to be revealed.” You’re certain you’ve never heard his voice sound so lewd and inviting before, and as you crawl to him again, you can’t help but maintain your gaze on his legs, breath hitching suddenly when he parts his thighs to make space for you in between them. As you settle yourself against him, Tech reaches for your hips and pulls you against his chest. 

“And here I thought the mere sight of me offering you what you desire would make you less shy.” He comments passively as you continue to keep your hands to yourself, something that clearly bothers him because within the blink of an eye, he’s putting your arms on his shoulders before slipping his hands down to take hold of your thighs. You call for him, a sound filled with surprise and desire, ones brought upon by the ease with which he continues to handle you. 

You can’t look at him, afraid of how your body will react if you saw the way he was already staring at you. But as you settle on top of him, straddling his thighs much to his content, you decide to throw all your anxiety out the window. Leaning down, you hover your lips across his own, waiting until he gives you a sign that he wanted to kiss you as well. He smiles at you then, raising your chin up so he can take a better look at you. You blink once as you finally meet his eyes, and you’re amazed by how much brighter the brown around his pupils appears now. You’re not sure if they’ve always been this lovely color or if the circumstances were making them even more beautiful, but you meditate on them briefly as you close the last bit of space between the two of you. 

Unlike the first kiss you shared with Tech, this one is much more controlled, softer and sweeter, allowing you a better chance to commit the feel of his lips to memory. He tilts his head as he deepens the kiss, making you sigh against him and open your mouth so you could swallow his moans in turn. His hands knead your hips, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine until you begin to move atop him. As one of his arms moves across your back to apply the slightest of pressure against you so you can move even closer to him, you wrap your arms tightly around his neck and break the kiss, gasping for air dramatically as he moves you back and forth against the tent on his jeans. 

“Fuck,” he swears against your neck, lightly nipping the skin of your jugular as grow more needy with your movement, rubbing your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans as you always imagined. 

“You feel so good Tech,” you moan breathlessly at him, chasing your long-abandoned orgasm with a newfound desperation, hoping that he can bring you there faster than your own hands. 

“This will not do,” Tech mutters to himself, once again pushing you around as he pleases until you’re only straddling one of his thighs. He brings you down harder on him, this time raising his thigh a little off the bed so you can ride him as you please. 

“Oh maker, ff-fuck.” You throw your head back, body shaking with excitement as Tech takes over and moves you against him, flexing his thigh muscles to the best of his abilities as he pushes you hard and fast against the damp material of his jeans. He looks down and feels his heart skip a beat when he sees the clear, wet patch adorning his clothes, squeezing your skin even tightly to ensure that this was, in fact, real.

“I- I can understand why you would call me that, but it is only me, sweet one. If you will reach climax whilst using my thighs, I would greatly appreciate it if you were to call for me…as- kriff, as you promised.” Tech is aware of the way he continues to trip over his words, and he looks up in time to see you smirking at him. He knows exactly why you are smiling so teasingly, and he files the information for later, mostly so he could ensure to have a response ready if and when you decide to jokingly provoke him. He can tell there is something on the tip of your tongue, and before you can retort with probably humorous sentiment, he brings you back and forth harshly against his jeans, licking his lips as you offer him the desired response in return. 

“Tech, I’m so close…please baby.” 

He groans then, his breathing growing more erratic as you continue to beg him to ease the fire settling in your stomach. He never thought he’d appreciate a submissive partner, let alone whispered pet names during such a moment, but he hisses as you continue to say those few words, his cock pushing painfully against the fly of his jeans the faster you ride him. 

Tech inhales deeply, the scent of your warm, wet cunt managing to distract him momentarily from the job at hand. He bites into his lower lip to regain some bit of control, and when he thinks he has a good grip on his desires, he wraps one arm around you before using his other hand to pull and push you against him. 

“You are awfully close, my dear. Perhaps if I were to assist,” he doesn’t elaborate any further, and it’s not long before you feel his expert fingers reaching down and slithering their way in between your cunt and his thigh. As soon as you look down at him, Tech is sure he will never get the image of you out of his mind. 

Glazed eyes. Wet lips. Flushed face. 

“You are positively sinful.” He claims as he leans up and takes your lips in a mindblowing kiss, swallowing your moans with ease as he shoves two of his long, thick fingers past your wet folds and curls them inside your walls. Had he given you a chance to break the kiss, you’re sure you would have been screaming his name until all of Ord Mantell who was making you come undone. 

But he doesn’t let go of you once, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he fucks you with his fingers while rubbing your clit with the palm of his hand. Your eyes are shut tightly, fingers digging into his neck as he shows you the stars with his tongue and his hand.

Tech remembers quickly what you promised him moments ago, and he does break the kiss then, wanting to hear you moan his name as he aided you through your orgasm. He tilts his head back to take a better look at you, and as he meets your eyes, he winks once at you before looking down to watch where he was disappearing inside of you. 

“Tech, I’m-” You can’t finish the thought, the feeling of his fingers consistently hitting your tight walls pushing you over the edge and forcing you to melt against him. 

“Come for me, Y/N.” He orders once, and if you had half a functioning brain cell, you would have asked him where he learned how to talk like that. But you don’t care enough, and you scream his name like a prayer as he continues to coax pleasure out of you. There is a vague sound filling the night air as he continues to finger-fuck you into another little high, and when you open your eyes and look at Tech, you find his own curious gaze zeroed in on where he was pleasuring you. 

But just as you follow his line of sight, he begins to slow down to a stop, making you shudder on top of him now that your body was being offered some respite. It’s only when he breaks the silence and fixes his goggles that you realize what you’d just done. 

“Fascinating!” He calls out as if it is the most normal comment to say after making you come the hardest you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. Tech doesn’t care to remove his fingers from you, and without a warning, he curls the tips of his two fingers once, watching with interest as your entire body jolts forward and your voice breaks in a rather pornographic moan. 

“The actions your body performs in response to the stimuli I deliver to it are most impressive, mesh’la.” You shouldn’t be surprised by him, and it’s endearing how careful he becomes as he slips his fingers out of you while soothing your back with the other hand. Once again, you’re about to respond to him with something snarky about where his priorities are, but you don’t find the words when you see him hold his fingers up and stare at them. 

“Interesting, I was well aware of how messy this act could be but I did not expect to be this-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I could…I know how much you dislike stains and-”

“You misunderstand me, cyar’ika. I was merely attempting to inform you of how much I thoroughly enjoyed you drenching my hands and my clothes.” Tech interrupts your thoughts from running away from you, and you stare at him with wide eyes as his words finally settle in your mind. You weren’t sure how to deal with this new bit of information, because the last thing you ever expected to hear was Tech telling you that he enjoyed you squirting on him. You can already feel your chest tighten as his confession reignites the need you have for him, which is made even worse not a moment later as he raises his fingers to his face and wraps his lips around them. 

You forget how to breathe as Tech shuts his eyes and hums approvingly at what he’s tasting, the action and sound so lewd that you attempt to clench your thighs above him to relieve the growing pressure. 

“I must admit, the taste of you does not compare to my imagination.” Had you not known the man beneath you for so long, you would have thought he was doing this on purpose. But you knew Tech, and you were sure he was only speaking his inner monologue out loud as he always does. Whatever is next on his lips is interrupted when he looks down and watches as you not-so-subtly try to touch yourself again. 

“You are quite needy, aren’t you?” He takes his fingers out of his mouth and places his hand back on your body, roaming both his palms across your skin so he could feel the effect he was having on you. 

“Tech…I need you.” You beg shamelessly, leaning into him in an attempt to rile him up with another kiss. 

“I believe you sweetheart, but I do owe you an apology.” Tech nudges your nose with his own, smirking to himself when your expression changes into a pout and you furrow your eyebrows at him. He would tell you later that he absolutely adored the look on your face when you were confused, but he had another, more pressing matter at hand, and he did not want to drag this out any longer. 

“You wished to use my thighs to orgasm, but I- well, I became greedy and used my hands instead.” He kisses the corner of your mouth once, barely managing to hold back from shoving you beneath him and taking what he wanted from you in return. 

“Maker, I don’t care Tech…I just want you. I want you to fuck me, with your cock this time. Please, we can…we can do that later.” You reach down to his jeans, cupping him through the wet fabric in an attempt to get him to put you out of your misery and give you what you’ve longed for. But he’s much quicker than you, and he snaps his hand to your wrist immediately, dragging it away from his hard cock so he doesn’t get distracted by your touches. 

“Humor me, mesh’la. I desperately want to know if you can reach climax with such a simple action. You have taken what you wanted, and now I ask for this in return.” You know, as well as him, that he’s only doing this to torture you, that he’s only using his interest in experiments to disguise such his perverse need to make you suffer. 

“But I-” 

“If you do, I promise to give you my cock. Even better, I promise to fill you up all night long, until you are no longer begging for release but respite.” Tech breaks your train of thought, and he smirks down at you when he sees the gears shifting in your mind at his proposition. He didn’t need to read your mind to know that you’ve already agreed to his terms, and with one last quick peck on your lips, he releases your hands and rests his back against the headboard once more. 

You readjust on top of him, placing the palms of your hands on his chest to keep yourself up. 

“There’s a good girl.”

[britcision]

Happy WIP Wednesday friends! Not a huge deal for you today, but I figured I’d drop the Flashback and give you the last piece in the “Bruce Puts His Head In His Butt” for the night!

(Bruce is tranq’ed by Alfred minutes after the call ends and is put to bed. In my heart. He might actually walk himself up but we all know it’s Alfred’s glare that makes it happen)

Just a taste of chapter 14 of Dead and Loving It, you can find the fic on AO3 or from my pinned post which is the latest chapter, but links to the first and all subsequent chapters are in each post!

———————

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

Jason was actually on his way to bed on time for once in his life, the early end to patrol and lack of crime lord duties giving him a chance to get a full five hours sleep.

He should have known he wouldn’t get lucky two nights in a row; Constantine wasn’t around to distract Bruce anymore.

He’d contemplated not answering. Contemplated trying not to shoot Bruce in half an hour if the fucker showed up at his window.

The pit growled.

It was the worst thing he’d ever heard. The worst thing he’d ever felt. And he did feel it, vibrating in his very bones.

It sent shivers creeping up and down, muscles tensing as if to run away from something inside him.

He answered the call, hoping it wouldn’t show in his voice.

“What.” Flat, unfriendly. Not encouraging conversation.

“You didn’t come to the cave.” B’s voice was equally flat, but in his case it sounded like a condemnation. An accusation.

Jason gritted his teeth.

“I have shit to do in the morning. Make it quick,” he snapped, giving his bed a glare it definitely didn’t deserve.

His pillows had never done anything to hurt him.

There was a momentary pause before B audibly decided not to push it.

Good.

Jason was in a mood to bite.

“We have intel on the Infinite Realms. I’ve sent the report. You need to stay away from Danny Fenton, for your health,” B said, still cold, still clinical.

Like he didn’t care. Like what Jason wanted didn’t matter.

Jason’s grip tightened and the phone case cracked.

“Yeah, no. Fuck off.” He spat the words, adding “get new phone” to his list of chores for the morning.

He’d been doing so well with this one. Of course Bruce had to ruin it.

At least the old man didn’t seem surprised by his reaction.

“Jason. It… he. His abilities may affect your condition,” he said slowly, sounding tired. Old.

The pit snarled, sensing weakness, and Jason kinda wished he was still lost in its rage. Back when he was, it was easy just to hate those moments.

B showing signs of humanity fucking hurt.

“He is. He’s making it better,” he shot back, brooking no argument.

“We don’t know that, Jason. Please, just… just for a few days. Until we can talk to the League, understand what he’s doing to you.”

Was.

Was that Bruce begging?

It froze something small and soft in Jason’s chest, stuck him in place. And did nothing to stop the flood of icy rage from filling him up.

Filling his chest, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Because of course, anyone and everyone else’s judgement was worth more to the man than Jason’s.

Begging Jason to listen to him, when he would never, ever, fucking ever listen to Jason. When it didn’t fucking matter if Jason begged.

“And why the fuck would the League know better than a doctor from the Realms?” He finally snapped, ignoring the way his throat tightened.

There was a long silence.

“A doctor?” Bruce asked softly, his voice still so flat and emotionless that only his kids could have read the confusion. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Danny brought me to a doctor. I’m gonna be fine,” he ground out reluctantly, part of him resenting Bruce’s constant insistence on knowing everything.

But… well. If it got the guy off his fucking back.

There was a long silence, one that Jason was fully aware B was likely spending working this new information into his latest paranoid fantasy.

Jason seriously considered just hanging up and going to bed. He was about to do it when Bruce spoke again.

“Would this doctor be willing to speak to the League?” And there it was again, Batman voice, clinical and distant and always, always fucking suspicious.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. With emphasis. Willing to be interrogated by first the Justice League and then separately also goddamn Batman.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure B wouldn’t get anywhere with Frostbite. Frostbite took his work seriously and was, yeah, king of a full realm of yetis.

None of Bruce’s pointed silences, menacing looming, or vague growls would bug the guy who got Danny through Fucked Up Ghost Puberty.

(And would probably be helping Jason through his own Fucked Up Ghost Puberty… joy of joys.)

It might actually be fun to see him try. If just being here wouldn’t put Frostbite in danger, because hell fucking no that wasn’t happening. The guy may not be his king but Jason would still die first.

But of course, in all his paranoid bullshit about the Realms influencing Gotham, B had somehow conveniently missed what America was doing to the Realms.

Like Jason hadn’t even done the full write up.

“Not while the fucking League are required to hand him right to the US government for torture and experimentation. Which, by the way, did you read my report on the Anti Ecto Acts?” Jason asked sarcastically, doing his very worst fake concern.

And again he was met with silence. Fuck, maybe Bruce hadn’t read it. Jason had dropped it in the day before all this gala bullshit had started, and it had been a busy two days since.

Maybe B deadass hadn’t put the pieces together. Might as well hammer it home for him.

“You know, the one that says you, me, Cass, and Damian are all non-sentient because we’ve been exposed to the pits?” Jason added, eyes narrowing.

Which wasn’t technically true, since it was the resulting liminality and ability to process ectoplasm that made them count, but Bruce didn’t need to know that yet.

Finally he spoke again, voice gruff and clipped.

“I’m looking into it. But for now, Jason, please-” he said again, the cover of Batman beginning to slip.

But Jason was done. No fucking chance Bruce was giving him orders when he hadn’t even bothered asking for Jason’s opinion.

He wanted to spout off about dangers of the Infinite Realms after talking to some wet paper bag of a man who hawked his soul like it was a pokemon card. Hard pass.

And even after hearing that Jason knew what was going on a damn sight better than Bruce did, he still wanted to push him around?

Fuck that.

“Sorry B, legally non-sentient, guess I can’t be blamed for my actions,” he drawled, then turned his phone off and dropped into bed.

He had a lot of shit to do before picking Danny up in the morning.

——————-

Jason will be using “legally non-sentient” as an excuse long after the laws themselves are repealed, and just you fucking wait until Damian hears he can try it too 😏

Sorry Bruce, Damian can’t socialize today, he’s legally non-sentient and can’t be blamed if he bites someone

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778

[captainjacklyn]

Twisted Wonderland x Dragon!Yuu PART 3

Context : Yuu is dragged by the headmaster to who knows where while they carry on their arms, a very feisty fire cat. Upon arriving in the room full of strangely dressed people, a couple of incidents happen to take place just a couple of minutes later.

Tag List : @candlewitch-cryptic

Warning(s) : none really, fire with butts on fire, riddle is mean like he canonically was in the prologue, if I missed anything please notify me.

Prologue [Fiery Issue] - Episode 2 :

loud sounds of footsteps and incomprehensible mumbling could be heard across the hallway. A confused dragon in human form tried to reason with the presumably called 'headmaster crowley' to explain their situation, all while handling a very angry raccoon aggressively biting their hand.

"Sir Crowley, you must understand that there is a huge misunderstanding, I woke up here out of sheer coincidence and not once was I informed of attending a school for humans- I mean wizards. I myself aren't fit for such a position considering my level with magic-" He was quick to cut them off with a statement of his own, "There is no need to utter such nonsense ! The school wouldn't just pick up a student on the street to attend in this prestigious establishment ! Consider yourself lucky and flattered !" while saying the last part he smiled in satisfaction.

[lucky how exactly ?] Yuu thought to themselves while trying to keep their composure and find a way to tell them to let you go without revealing your identity. Of course you could just do so and get on with it, but not everyone reacts very well to the revelation. "MMHMHM !" the irritated fire cat muffled out it's own claims but to no avail as Yuu gripped him a little tighter and spoke under their breath. "Hush, you'll get back home in a minute, just calm down alright ?" "mmhm.." they groggily groaned back and the struggling temporarily stopped.

______________________________________________________________

Mirror Chamber - Entrance ceremony

Chatter filled the room as students began to get up from their seats to head out with their assigned group. "Is that all for the new student dorm assignments ? Listen up new students. Here in Heartslabyul I am the rules, break them and its off with your head." a red haired boy spoke firmly, another man with Lion ears followed with an introduction of his own. "..Uuugh. The stuffy ceremony is finally over. We're going back to the dorms, Savannaclaws follow me.."

"To the new students, congratulation on entering this academy. Enjoy your life here to the fullest." a confident boy with glasses welcomed the other individuals, "As the dormitory leader of Octavinelle, I will support you to the best of my abilities." then, a beautiful man brought the attention to something else, "By the way, where did the headmaster go ? he flew out right in the middle of the ceremony.." "abandoning his post.." A floating tablet commented.

"Did he get a stomach ache or something ?" another boy with a turban added his own assertion, only to be interrupted by the sound of doors slamming open and the voice of said headmaster. "Not at all !" "Ah he's here." the red haired boy uttered once more. "I cannot believe you all. We were missing one new student so I went to find them." crowley explained as he then turned his attention to Yuu, "You are the only one yet to be assigned a dormitory. I shall watch over the raccoon, step in front of the Dark Mirror."

[....I should just play along and hope that relic doesn't prove that strange man right...How could I go from one of the admirals of the Harmony faction to a human pupil..] Yuu let their mind run free as they hesitantly walked towards the Dark mirror that soon asked, "State thy name." [..In the name of Thor..I'm going to have to curse this artifact..] "Yuu/(Name)." their (e/c) eyes lighting up faintly whilst answering.

"The shape of thy soul is.." it continued, but didn't keep going as if waiting for something to happen.

"..." it's 'eyebrows' lifted, surprised. Yuu waited for an answer, the suspense making them somewhat tense up.

[..it's working..]

"..........." the Dark Mirror's expression turned to confusion.

[...how long does this last.]

"........................." it then started to presumably frown.

[...so..?]

"I do not know." [YES !] Yuu lifted their fist up to try and inaudibly express their relief with success in being able to cast a spell. "Come again ?!" Crowley exclaimed, "I sense not a spark of magic from this one..No color, no shape, all are nothing. therefore they are not suited for any dormitory." [harsh.] for all that, they didn't really need to care anymore, as long as the result was what they wanted. "It was as I told you, I do not possess any magical prowess."

"But an ebony carriage would absolutely never go meet someone who can't use magic !" he tried retorting Yuu's claims, "In 100 years there has not been a mistake in student selection. So why in the world.." he placed an thinking hand under his chin, not realizing that his grip on the fur ball loosened. "Mghmgh..Pah !" it yanked it's head away, seemingly angry about the whole ordeal as it declared : "Then I'll take their place !" The headmaster snapped out of his trance and tried scolding it, "Stay right there ! Raccoon !"

"Unlike that dumb human, I can use actual magic ! Let me in the school instead !" the raccoon defended itself, "if you need proof I'll show you right now !" it continued before positioning itself on all four and inhaling a strong breath in. As if to understand what was coming next, the red haired boy yelled out "Everyone get down !"

"Nnaah !" the talking cat puffed out his infamous fireball, "Waah ! Hottt! My butt's on fire !" the boy in the turban panicked as fire caught on his backside, "Tch ! Suck ups.." the man with lion ears groaned. The beautiful student from earlier couldn't help but comment on the lion's irritation, "Hmm ? Aren't you good at hunting ? Doesn't it look like a nice, plump snack ?" The beastman snapped back, "Why me ? Do it yourself." the boy with the turban was jumping up and down trying to get rid of the flames on his back side. "Umm, hey, could someone put out my butt fire already ?!" he screamed.

"At this rate the school will be a sea of fire ! Somebody catch that raccoon !" [can he get rid of anymore responsibilities...?] the dragon in disguise human let out an exasperated sigh "Hey." a stern voice broke the commotion, Yuu stood in front of the source of chaos.

"huh ?" it's eyes widened in confusion, "Fnagh ! You ! How did you get here so quickly ?!" it yelped in surprise, not knowing how this strange being shifted from one place to another without making a sound. "I told you to calm down earlier, did I not ? Is it that hard for you to not cause trouble ? That creature really acts like a member of the chaos faction.." they mumbled the last part under their breath as they stared down at the grey haired fur ball. Meanwhile, it was too busy being paralyzed out of fear, why was its fur standing on end ? Surely it isn't that intimidated.

The next thing that was expected to happen was a blow, but nothing came. "Stop. it." Yuu scolded as they aggressively patted his head, slowly pushing him down. "You. need. to. stop. You're quite literally burning down the school you so dearly wish to attend." They began to tap grim with their fingers in an attempt to annoy him to end his foolish acts.

Surprisingly..

It did work.

I hope you stay tuned for part 4 !

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Chapter 28

Previous chapter | Last chapter

Masterlist

"They are literal scum. Posting this article the morning of our most important game so far? Disgusting" Leah said, leaving her phone on the table and laying on the bed next to June.

"Didn't expect anything less from them" she sighed.

"How are you?" 

"Honestly? I don't know. They've published stuff about my relationships before, but…"

"But they've never done it about a relationship you truly care about. One that matters, one that you want, one with someone you love" Leah said.

"Yeah" June sighed again.

They had been caught. Someone had recognized her and Ben on their date at McDonald's, taking photos of them and sending them to the English press. And there was no way they could deny what was going on.

They had photos of them waiting to order, June's arms wrapped around Ben's neck while they kissed and laughed. They had photos of them eating together, smiling at each other. And they had photos of them leaving the restaurant, of Ben squeezing her butt and then hugging her and kissing her. That was couple behaviour, and it was impossible to deny it.

"What has your family said?"

"My dad said that now he understood why I had been looking so happy lately, and my mum that Ben is the most handsome young man she has ever seen and that she is gonna have the most beautiful grandchildren ever."

"No pressure there" Leah chuckled. "So they are ok with your relationship?"

"They are. They said that as long as I am happy, they are happy too."

"What about John?"

"He just worries about me wanting to run away and send to hell the best thing that has happened to me in ages and that isn't related to my career."

"But you aren't running away, are you?"

"The thought crossed my mind when I first saw the article" June said, biting her lip. "But, no, I'm not going anywhere. I… I love Ben. And I'm gonna fight for him. For us."

"Aww, Maxwell!" Leah said, hugging her friend. "You've said it aloud! Finally! I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, this is not whatever, June. This is huge coming from you. This means you've healed, that your heart isn't broken anymore. Though it won't be 100% healed until you tell Chilly how you feel."

"He knows how I feel."

"But you haven't actually told him, have you?"

"Not really, no."

"Then maybe this is the moment to do it, you know? Now that everyone knows about your relationship, this may be the moment to tell him and reassure him that you aren't going anywhere."

"Maybe. But I don't know how to say it."

"It's just three words, Maxwell" Leah laughed.

"Yes, but the three most important words ever."

"I guess… Have you spoken with him yet?"

"We texted earlier after the article was published. He asked me if I was ok and about how my family had taken the news."

"What about his family?"

"His mum was like, oh, this is old news. I've known since I saw her at the hospital."

"She always was a clever woman" Leah chuckled. "Did you talk about anything else? Are you going to publish something on Instagram confirming it?"

"Nah. We agreed that what matters now is tonight's game, that I should focus on that and on showing those idiots who June Maxwell is, that their shit doesn't affect her." 

"So you basically agreed on bringing back the June who likes to shut mouths with goals."

"Ben's favourite, yes" June chuckled. 

"I like her a lot too. Though not as much as he does. Tough love he called it, right?"

"Yeah" she said, remembering everything that happened since that confession, how she and Ben had gone from not being able to stand the other and constantly arguing to… to being in love with each other and happier than ever.

"You know you have us all by your side right? The whole team" Leah said, taking June's hand in hers.

"I know, Williamson. Thank you" she smiled.

"Great. Then let's go kick some asses" Leah said, getting up from the bed with a quick jump. "I feel bad for those poor Chinese girls but… This is how it works. Are you ready, Maxwell?"

"Yes captain, my captain" June laughed, getting up from the bed and joining her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What an extraordinary game of football" Andrew said. 

"Definitely the best we've seen in this tournament so far" Jacob added.

"The way the girls played tonight has been just… Perfection. Look at those stats!"

"And they could have been even better if Sarina hadn't made all those changes after the 5th goal."

"And what a goal that last one was. What do you think, Chilly?" Andrew asked him.

"I think that it probably is the best goal of Lauren's career to the date."

"Agree" Jacob nodded. 

"If you watch it since the moment the ball leaves Earp's foot, it just gets better and better."

"And when it gets to Maxwell… That pass was simply brilliant! And the way James controls the ball and kicks… Urgh, I love it."

"Looks like you've fallen in love with a goal, Andrew" Ben chuckled.

"I may have, yes" he laughed.

"Speaking of Maxwell's pass… Didn't it remind you of one of yours, Chilly? The one against United."

"It was similar, but hers is ten times better. She is a much better football player than I ever was or would have ever been" Ben smiled.

"Completely unbiased comment here" Jacob smirked.

"I'm known for always being unbiased when it comes to Maxwell " Ben shrugged before the three of them started to laugh. "Being serious again, tho… I think the character the girls showed today is worthy of respect. People from the outside tried to make them nervous, to make them fail, and they showed them what they are made of. That they are here to play football and win, and no one is gonna distract them from their goal no matter how hard they try."

"Yes! Our fierce lionesses!" Jacob said, lifting his fist in the air.

"We are very proud of you girls" Andrew said.

"All of you" Ben added, looking straight into the camera, hoping everyone back home got the message. 

They could publish all the rubbish they wanted. He was sure of his feelings for June and of hers for him even if she hadn't said it just yet. And if there was someone who knew how to fight against people who talked shit, making the best of it, that was June Maxwell.