#i’ve posted it before but what the hell

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back… pt.3

social media au

part two here

•

f1 BREAKING: Norris and Y/L/N are out of the race ⚠️

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username1 omg they’re gonna end up killing each other

username2 damn, but it was clearly Lando’s fault

-> username3 right?? Why didn’t he leave enough space???

username4 the fact that Y/N got out of the car and almost threw hands at Lando she’s a BADASS

-> username5 she isn’t taking shit from him, go girl 🤭

-> username6 as she SHOULD

username7 Oscar asking on the radio if she was okay before asking about his OWN teammate 👀

•

real life

The post-race chaos was a blur as you stormed into the McLaren garage, your pulse hammering in your ears. Every muscle in your body was tense, your mind replaying the sickening crunch of metal and the stomach-lurching spin off the track. The collision with Lando had been entirely avoidable, and you knew it.

Lando was sitting on a workbench, still in his race suit, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. When he looked up and saw you, his jaw clenched. He set his water bottle down, clearly bracing himself for what was coming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?” you spat, your voice sharp enough to cut glass.

He stood, matching your intensity. “Don’t start with me, Y/N. You were just as much at fault.”

“Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” you snapped, stepping closer. “I gave you enough room! You turned in on me like you wanted to take us both out!”

His eyes flared with anger, but he didn’t respond right away, and that silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“This wasn’t just a racing incident,” you pressed, your voice shaking with fury. “That was personal. What were you thinking, huh? That you’d knock some sense into me? Scare me? Or were you just trying to hurt me because you still can’t stand the fact that I walked away from you?”

“Stop,” he said, his voice low but warning.

“No, I won’t stop!” you shouted. “You’ve been acting like this ever since I left you—since I finally decided I deserved better than someone who cheats!”

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, and you saw the flicker of guilt cross his face before he masked it with anger.

“Don’t bring that up again,” he said tightly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” you shot back. “You ruined us, Lando. You did. And now you’re trying to ruin me on the track, too?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that out there.”

“Then what was it like?” you demanded, your voice shaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were trying to prove a point.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said bitterly.

Lando looked up at you, his expression cracking just enough for you to see the regret underneath. “I lost my head, okay? Seeing you… seeing you so happy, like none of it even mattered—it got to me.”

You stared at him, disbelief flooding through you. “So you risked my safety—our safety—because you’re jealous? Because you can’t stand the fact that I’ve moved on?”

“Maybe I can’t,” he admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “Maybe I hate seeing you with them—watching you smile at other guys like you used to smile at me. Do you know how hard it is to see that and know it’s my fault? That I’m the one who screwed it up?”

Your breath caught, his confession hitting you like a punch to the gut. But it didn’t soften your anger. If anything, it made it worse.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Lando,” you said coldly. “You made your choice. You cheated. And I walked away because I deserve better than someone who couldn’t even respect me.”

His shoulders sagged, the weight of your words clearly hitting him, but you weren’t done.

“And now? Now you’re letting your jealousy and regret turn into something dangerous. You could’ve ended my career out there today. Or worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” you replied, stepping back. “I’ve moved on, Lando. Maybe it’s time you try to do the same.”

He didn’t say anything as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the quiet of the garage. But as you stepped out into the paddock, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—that whatever unresolved emotions still lingered between you would find a way to surface again.

•

yourusername not the result I wanted for this weekend… but I’ll keep pushing to get back those lost points! See you next weekend 💪🏻🫶🏻

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username1 clearly not your fault! That penalty was well given to Lando!

fernandoalo_oficial you got this chica 💪🏻

alex_albon let’s go! glad you’re not hurt

username2 get it girl!! 😍

oscarpiastri 💪🏻

username3 the next dts season is gonna be INSANE I can’t wait 🤭

•

real life

The day had been long and emotionally exhausting. After your fight with Lando, you had barely made it through the mandatory media debriefs without snapping at someone. Now, standing in the paddock under the setting sun, you were relieved that the weekend was finally over.

“Rough day, huh?” Fernando’s familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to find your teammate leaning casually against the wall, his helmet bag slung over one shoulder. Despite the chaos of the day, Fernando always seemed composed, a stark contrast to your current state.

“That’s putting it mildly,” you replied, managing a weak smile.

He nodded knowingly, then tilted his head slightly. “I heard you’re heading to the Aston Martin headquarters tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Have to go over some data with the engineers.”

“Same here,” he said, his tone casual. “Why don’t you skip the hassle of a commercial flight and ride with me? My jet’s leaving in an hour.”

The offer caught you off guard, but it also sounded like the perfect way to escape the mess of today. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Fernando said with a small smile. “It’ll be nice to have some company.”

An hour later, you were seated across from Fernando on his private jet, a glass of wine in hand. The plush interior and quiet hum of the engines felt like a world away from the chaos of the paddock.

“To surviving another race weekend,” Fernando said, raising his glass with a smirk.

You chuckled, clinking your glass against his. “Barely.”

As the jet cruised through the night sky, the wine kept flowing, and so did the conversation. Fernando was surprisingly easy to talk to, his sharp wit and dry humor making you laugh more than you had all weekend. You found yourself relaxing in his company, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

But somewhere between the second and third glass, the atmosphere began to shift. His gaze lingered a little too long, and your laughs turned into soft smiles. You couldn’t ignore the way his voice dipped when he said your name, or the way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the bottle.

It was reckless, you knew that, but when he leaned closer, his dark eyes searching yours for permission, you didn’t stop him. His lips were on yours before you could think, the kiss slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about what he wanted.

One thing led to another, and soon you found yourself tangled in the sheets of the jet’s private cabin. It was a blur of heated whispers, soft gasps, and the kind of passion you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Afterward, as you lay beside him, reality began to sink in. You sat up, pulling the blanket around you, your mind racing.

“This can’t happen again,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering warmth of his touch.

Fernando propped himself up on one elbow, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he said simply.

“I mean it, Fernando,” you pressed, turning to face him. “We’re teammates. This… this could complicate everything. It was a mistake.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded. “I get it. One time, no strings.”

His calm response surprised you. You had expected more pushback, maybe even an argument, but his easy acceptance only reinforced why you had always respected him.

“Nothing changes between us,” he added, his voice steady. “We’re still teammates. Still focused on the team. This doesn’t leave this jet.”

You exhaled in relief, appreciating his maturity. “Thank you.”

Fernando gave you a small smile, his hand brushing against yours briefly. “Get some rest. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

As you settled back into the seat, your thoughts swirled. You told yourself it was a one-time lapse in judgment, a fleeting moment of weakness.

•

yourusername alexa play “kill bill” by SZA 🔪

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oscarpiastri I hope you liked the cake

-> yourusername you spoil me too much, pastry🥐

-> georgerussel63 you’ve never sent me cake, I’m jealous oscarpiastri

-> yourusername come get your man carmenmmundt 😴

username1 omg Oscar sent her the cake?? What am I missing???

-> username2 RIGHT?? her dating her ex’s teammate would be an amazing revenge ����

username3 the caption 💀

•

thatf1podcast here’s a sneak peek of our episode with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N 👀

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username1 I need all the teaaaaa 😏

yourusername it was a pleasure 🤭

username2 I NEED THIS EPISODE NOW

username3 I’m loving it 😌

•

tag list: @samantharaytanner @stressed-cherry @anamiad00msday @book-obsesseds-world @hurtblossom @tagteamedbitch @hoeforsirius @jxnellat @tillyt04 @danielshoe @tvdtw4ever @raynetargaryan2 @sadiemack9 @henna006 @wordesthatics @whosluce @mikaalvesreal @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @littlegrapejuice @bakingpiastries @ietss

- part 4 coming soon

[liesonmytongues]

Figured it was about time to post some of my writings since I made this blog specifically for them. Here's a request for a fic on AO3

MILF! Slime girl x Male! Reader

Synopsis- Hot older slime woman goes on a date with you that ends in insane sex

Warnings/CWs- Egregious smut, extremely inaccurate/impossible biology, unrealistic sex and biology, breast expansion, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, possible body horror (she does some crazy shit), thigh and breast fucking, biting, human/monster romance, Male reader, dirty talk, rough sex

Word count- 3,800

She’s perfect. Perfect in every way- you've never met a woman better than her. And sure, maybe part of that was because she was a slime lady, and you’ve been interested in monster women for a really long time- but this is different, she's just…everything. The first time you saw her was a few days after she'd moved in- she'd been standing outside, tending to the garden that had been totally empty for months- with a kid on her hip and a pretty yellow sundress that stuck to her thighs and tits like a second skin. Every time she touched a plant, she got a little bit of ooze on the leaves. Every time she stepped, it made a plop noise and left behind a sticky footprint, threads of slime connecting her to the ground before snapping. And when she bent over? You got the most perfect view of her pretty tits, bulging out the top of her dress like if she bent over just a tiny bit more they'd pop out. You weren't even able to say hi that day because of how hard just looking at her made you- spending the rest of the night stroking your cock to thoughts of thrusting between her beautiful tits, feeling her slime squish and mold your cock to her body like she was made for you.

She's absolutely perfect.

You weren't even sure she'd want you considering what you were sure was a big age gap- she had baby pudge and rolls and little wrinkles, plus the toddler has to make her at least 10 years older than you, probably closer to 15- but hell, no one gets anything if they don't ask for it, right? So- once you’d had a very long shower to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself -you asked her on a date. She accepted of course, and after a conversation about how well you’d treat her and where you would go, she got a babysitter and you were on your way. The date went perfectly, and besides a couple close slip ups where you could’ve sworn she was teasing you on purpose, you were the perfect gentleman- you even walked her back to her house at the end and kissed her on the doorstep.

Which is what led you here.

“I’ve never- y’know, uh…” You started and vaguely gestured at her body, kicking off your shoes. She’d basically yanked you inside as soon as you kissed her- pressed you against the door while you tried shoving her in the direction of her bedroom. She won out. Or, more like you couldn’t fight her any longer when your pants were so tight and your zipper was starting to hurt where it pressed into your tip.

“You’ve never had sex?” And she had the gall to smirk and laugh- her body jiggled with it, and little drops of slime slid down her arms and legs and wetted your shirt. Fuck, the ones on her legs looked almost like cum…

“No! No- I’ve just… I’ve never had sex with a slime girl before. Or like…an older woman.” She scoffed at ‘older woman’ and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop touching you- so you hadn’t fucked it up yet.

“Oh, well that’s not an issue, is it, baby?” She shrunk down to her knees, making a soft, squishy ‘plop!’ when she landed, and you almost moaned from the visual alone. Every time she touched your pants it left a little wet spot before absorbing back into her, making it feel like you were being caressed directly through your clothes.

“Mmm- ffu-ck,” She moaned when she slipped down the top of her dress, her big, slick tits popping out and hitting your thighs. Your cock has never been this hard in your life, and when she finally got around to unzipping your pants, it basically slapped her in the face.

“Ahh, so eager! See, I knew this wouldn’t be a problem.” She leaned forward, barely gripping your base and rubbing her lips and cheeks against all the skin she could reach. Just sliding her face up and down your shaft felt like humping between a human girls’ thighs, drenching you in her- getting you all slicked without so much as a lick. You already felt like a mess, but it was when she started suckling on your head and stroking the rest of your length that you actually choked up a sound.

“Oh god, you feel so good- fuck, suck it-” Her eyes turned up and she stared at you, lidding every time she took your cock a couple inches deeper. You couldn’t look away, fighting back the urge to close your eyes from how good it already felt- which meant you got the full view of when she sat up a little taller, sliding your erection between her tits. It was hard not to buck your hips directly into her face, especially when she squeezed them together so perfectly. Every time her nipples rubbed on your stomach and thighs, she moaned like a whore, trying to play with them while also keeping a tight hole for you to thrust into. Could she cum like this? It was around then that you could feel slime starting to drip onto your foot, unable to tell if it was just her body or if her pussy was really that wet already- but fuck, you don’t care.

You reached down to help her- to grope her and squeeze that beautiful rack like she clearly wanted -but you froze when you touched them. They were getting bigger. Expanding in your hands, squishing between your thighs and nearly engulfing your balls- and it suddenly struck you that you could see it. See your cock through her slightly transparent body, see the globes squeezing your shaft tighter- they didn't even look like they fit her body anymore. Too big to be proportionate on any woman, you couldn't imagine she would even be able to stand in this state- they'd just cause her to fall face first, with her gorgeous ass up in the air for you to take.

You didn’t care if it was quick- this was too much!

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're gonna make me cum-” You groaned, tossing your head back and grinding your hips as much as possible with her body pinning you back into the door. Your voice was getting embarrassingly higher pitched with every noise you couldn’t hold back, fucking just your tip into her mouth and lightly slapping her lips every time your cock throbbed. It felt so good! A million times better than your imagination could ever provide during late nights rubbing your cock raw at the thought of this exact scenario. Minus the expanding- that was a welcome surprise

You were cumming before you even had a chance to pull away, gasping and shooting your load over her tits and chin, drenching her. You could watch it drip down her neck, into the crevice of either giant breast and nearly to her navel.

“Really? You haven’t even- ah -touched me yet and you blow your load, j-just like that?” She huffed, still panting and moaning softly, flicking her own nipples and groping herself to get off, licking the cum off her lips while you stood there. You were gonna say something back- something snarky or a rebuttal so she didn’t just get away with making fun of you, but as soon as you opened your mouth she was on her feet and yanking you down the hall. To her bedroom, you realized after a minute.

“Shut up…” You murmured too late to have any bite. Her room was nice, with a big, perfectly made bed smack in the center and a connected bathroom off to the side. You wondered briefly what the rest of the house looked like- where her kid slept, if she had a home office, what her kitchen looked like- but you snapped out of it when she got on the bed with a giggle, laying on her stomach and watching while you undressed. Your pants were sticky from her slime, and you had a hard time peeling them off for a couple of minutes- the strands connecting your thighs to the fabric like saliva might during a kiss. It should’ve felt gross, but the visual of her on her knees, making you that way, just made your cock twitch as you finally got the pants down to the floor. Her mouth suddenly sucking you off was another surprise- considering she was, obviously, on the bed, and you had to have been at least two feet away. You had expected her to have just climbed off the bed without you noticing, but looking at her, that clearly wasn’t the case.

She had turned herself over onto her back, neck stretched at least a foot further than should have been possible- bulging where your cock was nestled down her throat and truly making her look like the monster she was. Just like with her tits, you could make out every detail of your shaft as it slid up and down, contorting her textured esophagus and forcing slime between her lips, dripping down your balls and taint.

“God- you’re such a w-whore- did you need to suck me off so bad that you had to- fuck -mutilate yourself like that?” She whimpered in response, grabbing your hips and manually grinding you into her mouth. You were still sensitive, but she was managing to get you hard again. Really, it didn’t take much- all things considered you’re a little surprised you didn’t blow your load as soon as she started kissing you. Never in your life have you been this turned on, never have you had so many of your most depraved fantasies fulfilled all at once- this is heaven.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your face? Want me to bruise your throat, feel it every time you swallow?” This has to be a blessing. God you think you might be in love- in love with that soft, wet throat, with the way her tits and pudge and rolls bounce more and more the harder you thrust- your balls slapping her face and making slick ‘plap’ sounds loud enough to nearly drown out her moans and whimpers- every sound sending vibrations through your cock

“Dirty whore- fucking slut, take it- take it, take it-” You aren’t entirely sure when you bent over, but all of a sudden your face is pressed into her thighs, fucking her face, kissing and biting as best you can on slime. Your teeth sink into her like it's nothing, and she just keeps moaning- does she feel pain the same way you do? Does she even need to breathe considering she hadn’t tapped you or tried to pop off your dick yet? It doesn’t matter- you just keep biting and sucking and licking her thighs, pushing them together and burying your face in the crevice. God you want to fuck them- want to shove your cock into them, slide her panties to the side and rub your head against her clit. Want to fondle her tits and make her cum-

“Cumming- cumming again, fuck- swallow it, c’mon-!” You really need to stop getting so carried away with those thoughts. This time, every single gush went down her throat- you could see her swallow. See her throat constrict and milk cum out of your weeping cock, see it go all the way down and settle in her stomach, feel her continue swallowing until you physically couldn’t cum anymore. Only then did she stop, letting you soften and slip out between her lips.

“Ahh- god! Fuck me already! You’ve cum twice and I haven’t even cum once!” She rubbed her thighs together for emphasis, and with your face still right in front of them, you could see her slick- her actual slick, not just her slime -dribble out from under her panties. They were soaked. You had no doubt that if you tried, you’d probably be able to wring them out.

“What, did I suck you dumb? Did your mind come out with everything else?” Fucking hell, it’s not clear whether her attitude is from her age or just being horny, but it’s definitely doing it’s job of making you want to fuck her speechless. It’s not your fault she makes you like this!

“I’m getting to it! It’s not easy when you keep doing that before I even get around to touching you!” This is fun, it really is, but you’re just getting frustrated not being able to do what you want.

“Can’t believe you have such an attitude when you’re the one who basically forced yourself on me.” You murmured, circling the bed and climbing between her plump thighs. The bite marks from earlier were just barely visible, her body already mostly healed up the holes, leaving just little indents. Too bad, but not a problem, you can always make more.

You needed at least a couple minutes to recover, so maybe now you could work on that attitude of hers. Because her body didn’t really have bones or muscle or, like, really anything that made it keep its shape, you were able to take her legs and push her forward until she was bent in half- her calves nearly behind her ears and her ass and pussy up in the air and spread wide. She helped by grabbing the back of her knees, pressing them to her chest and keeping herself spread open like it was the easiest thing in the world while you dove in- licking stripes up her cunt to finally get a taste of her sweet slick. Being see-through made it a tiny bit harder to find her clit, but you got there after a minute, and, figuring she’d probably been edged enough, jumped headfirst into sucking it into your mouth. She wailed as soon as you did, tossing her head back before forcing it forward again so she could look at you.

The angle was a little awkward, but you managed to keep eye contact while you ate her out, moaning into her cunt and watching her try so hard not to let her eyes close in pleasure. She was starting to tear up, whining and moaning and crying out how good you were making her feel every time you sucked or licked stripes up her pussy. Her body was drooling for you too, it was almost difficult to lap at it all, half of her juices getting on your lips and chin and dripping down your neck or her ass. It was almost as good as actually fucking her.

“Fu-uck, fuck, baby, yes-! Oh g-god please, please, please, need your cock!” She cried again, bucking her hips into your face like she was out of control. Your cock had definitely taken interest again, rubbing at the sheets and begging for attention- and if she was asking for it, who are you to deny her? So with her body still bent in half, you started pressing at her cunt.

At first you didn’t mean to just rut between her thighs, but her body and pussy were so wet that it was making it hard to thrust inside- and you realized how good it felt after the third try. Your tip was bumping her clit just like you’d been imagining earlier, and if you pressed her thighs together just tight enough, it almost felt like being inside. Her knees fell onto your shoulder, and you had to wrap both of your arms around those pretty thighs to squeeze them together enough for your liking. Every time you rut against her clit, she wailed and moaned in higher and higher pitches- her pussy spasming against your shaft, begging for you to put it inside already. And humping between her thighs, spreading her lips, bumping her clit every time you thrust, was how she came.

Her back arched off the bed so far it would have snapped in any normal human, mouth gaping wide and legs trembling over your shoulder. Her cum dribbled down her thighs, furthering the mess on the sheets where you'd been eating her out a second ago.

She was having trouble even making sound, too caught up in her orgasm to so much as moan- reduced to gasping and chest spasms until she finally started to come down from her high. You hadn't even known women could cum that hard, let alone ever seen it outside of porn. Fuck everything else from that night- this was the hottest thing you've ever seen.

“Jesus- Christ-” She was laughing in between pants when she could actually talk again. Everything about her looked entirely blissed out- like she was floating on air -and you were struck with the fact that you did all that. You made her this way. Your dick shouldn’t be so hard after everything- but you’d be a damn liar if you said it wasn’t.

She didn’t get any time to relax before you flipped her onto her stomach, her body squelching again with the impact and again when you thrust inside her- needing to grip your cock and spread her pussy to be able to. She was so warm inside, and you found yourself again forcing her body forward until her lower back was nearly touching her shoulders- holding her calves to your chest and fucking her like a wild animal. You were so out of it that you didn’t even notice when her body started changing again until you fell forward, what used to be her legs fusing behind your back, making it hard to keep thrusting. It was like she never wanted you to stop, and the throbbing of her soaked cunt just added to it.

She’s still perfect in every way. Better than any woman you’ve ever met- ever fucked. Better than any fantasy. The shlick sound of your cock fucking in and out, the slapping of your balls against your clit that made her cry and moan and yell, the rough panting that made your lungs ache and her skin even slicker- nothing will ever live up to now. Her pussy keeps clenching around your shaft, spasming every time a gush of slick drips down her folds and makes your thighs as wet as being drenched in lube- making your thrusts even more obscene.

It’s like having sex with a pornstar- someone who has all the experience in the world and all the confidence to use it. She was made to be fucked by you. Made to take your cock over and over, made to cum around you and use her body to force you to keep going. Tendrils of slime slithered out of her torso and around your thighs, wrapping hard around your arteries and making you feel dizzy with the pleasure and loss of circulation- and at the same time, you could swear she was getting smaller. Your hands more easily wrapped around her waist, your cock gripped ever tighter, the bulge in her stomach getting bigger, moving up- she was forcing you to go harder, to push your cock past where it should possibly have been able to go. It felt like you could push into her womb if you tried hard enough- fuck, with her biology, you probably could. Her body wanted you to jackrabbit her cunt until you couldn’t cum anymore, drain you dry and then keep going.

“Ah! Ah! F-uck! Fuck me! Cum inside-” You yanked her torso up, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to grope her perfect, stunning, massive tits, rolling her nipples between your fingers- and she came again from the stimulation, screaming your name. Her pussy spasming and squeezing so hard you couldn’t pull out, a sudden spray of liquid absolutely destroying any bedding that was still clean- she was squirting on you. You couldn’t hold back after the sudden pressure- pulling her flush to your chest and cumming deep inside -your cum visibly shooting through her ribbed inside and against her cervix.

And promptly falling directly on top of her, face first into the ruined sheets. Your body was past the point of exhaustion- you couldn’t keep going. And seemingly, neither could she. Little, overstimulated moans and whimpers escaped her mouth, her body jolting and smaller waves of squirt leaking out of her hole- you’d be shocked if either of you would be able to move in the morning.

“Thank you- thank you…” Kissing her gently, rolling both of you over and gently pulling out of her abused cunt- eliciting another whine. You peppered more kisses over her face and neck, careful to put your hands somewhere that wouldn’t keep stimulating her poor body- even if that was a bit of a challenge considering how sensitive she is.

“I need to get up- need to clean us up. C’mon…” You pried softly at the tendrils and fused legs still wrapped around your entire lower body, but she was reluctant to let go.

“I’ll be right back.” A few more kisses.

“You promise?” She turned her face so you would kiss her lips.

“Promise, I’ll come back and stay the night.” You did what she wanted, leaving a long, soft kiss to her lips, waiting for her tendrils to go back and her legs to reform. It took a couple of minutes, and some more sweet words, but when her body eventually went back to normal, you were able to stand on wobbly feet and find her bathroom. You're not sure how exactly slime people bathe, or if they can even use towels and the like without getting absorbed or something, but you did find a soft cloth. You wiped yourself off first, hissing at the feeling of something on your oversensitive cock and thighs- then rinse, wring, repeat. Your new lover was exactly where you’d left her, and the only movements she gave you while you cleaned her up were twitches and little whines of ‘too much’ when you wiped a particularly sensitive spot. It was easy, and when you were both somewhat clean- and had somehow managed to yank the sheets off the bed and lay a clean blanket down -you finally went back to her and gave her what you promised.

Her whole body wrapped around yours, doing the same thing as earlier and fusing together, forcing you to stay still. You probably wouldn’t be able to convince her to let you go again, so it was best to accept it- and as soon as you did, you could hear her softly snoring.

You weren’t far behind, holding this perfect woman to your body, sinking your fingers into her slime, and letting yourself rest.

[twddixonn]

Good Boy

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

Warnings/Tags: not proof read!!!, sfw, some swears, shane.

this is my first fic on this account, my first time attempting to write a fic in 4-ish years and my first time trying to write a twd fic. honestly it’s probably not great but I hope it’s at least somewhat decent. :-)

(also written and posted mobile so not sure how it will appear on browser, hopefully not too terrible!)

“Leave me the hell alone.” You harshly whispered, turning on your heels and storming away from the scene in front of you.

Your best friend reuniting with his wife and son. Alive. Not dead. This whole time he had you believing that Rick was dead and gone, never coming back. Yet your eyes were seeing a whole different story to the one Shane painted out for you a couple months prior.

Shane followed pursuit, ignoring the former comment you had made and put a firm hold on your wrist before pulling you behind Dales RV to conceal you from the others.

“Hey, hey . I swear to you Y/N, he was dead when I left that hospital room. He wasn’t breathing. Th- the monitors, they all stopped. Everything went dead. He was dead.” Shane iterated, time and time again.

You feel the anger bubbling up inside you, just like all those other times when Shane had told you Rick was dead and to get it through your head he isn’t coming back. Your hands curled into fists, your nails stabbing into your palm leaving crescent shaped indents.

“Except he wasn’t. Is this why you didn’t want me to go there? Didn’t want Lori to go there? Because you knew if you swooped in and saved her and Carl when Rick couldn’t that what- she’d become your damsel in distress? Is this why? Just so you could get your leg over and fuck your partners wife and become Carls daddy? You’re pathetic Shane.” At this point your head was swarming with thoughts and ideas of what you wanted to do to Shane but better judgement got the best of you.

You began to walk off when a hand reached for you again, this time rougher. Shane pushed you against the RV, his brows furrowed and sweat dripping off his temples- smoke nearly coming out of his ears at this point.

“I don’t know what you think you know but you’re wrong either way. I think you’re forgetting that I didn’t just save Lori and Carl, I saved your sorry ass too. I didn’t have to. That was on me Y/N, That was on me. An’ I ain’t ever looked at Lori like that before, she was Ricks wife and he was my best friend. It happened because I thought he was dead.” He all but growled at you in a hushed whisper.

You remained quiet and stoic for a few moments, registering your thoughts before smirking slightly and speaking again. Pushing Shane’s hand off of you, you began to walk away but not before turning and giving one last snide remark, “I think I know right. And, by the way.. really interesting use of the past tense in those last few sentences there.”

Dickhead.

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“I’ve been here for quite a few hours now and yet, still no hello?” You looked beside you to see Rick crouched with a smile on his face, placing an arm around your shoulder which you leaned into graciously.

“Sorry Grimes.. just- a lot to take in y’no.” You said.

“Na’ I get it. Shane told me what happened.” Rick remarked whilst kissing his teeth and shaking his head.

“He did? Really? What did he say?.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement, Shane had really gone out of his way to-

“Yeah.” He breathed out, “Told me how it started, he tried to get me from the hospital but I wasn’t breathing and he thought I was dead. How he saved you and Lori n’ Carl and got you all here.”

“He told you that huh.” You should have known.

Rick started to stand back up, giving you a pat on the back and a kiss to the forehead first “I’m gonna go get some shut eye, you need too aswell. Talk more in the morning Y/N.” Rick turned to walk back towards camp, not before turning and speaking again, “Y/N.. go nice on Shane though ok? He’s a good guy, you just gotta give him a chance.”

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You wake up the next day to the sound of what you thought was - for once - peace and quiet. Until you hear the shouts outside and a woman screaming stop.

Debating between laying back down and just going back to sleep or getting up and out of your tent to see what was going on, you went with the better judgement and begrudgingly dragged yourself to get changed and step outside.

Shielding your eyes from the rays of light beaming off the Atlanta sun with a sigh escaping your lips at the slight breeze that hit your clammy skin.

“You’d best let me go!”- what the fuck was happening this time?

Walking closer you take sight of Shane with his arms wrapped around Daryl’s neck. A fuckin’ cop getting someone in a choke hold the minute they raise their voice? New worlds maybe not as different from before.

“I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic, you think we can manage that?” Rick spoke calmly whilst he crouched in front of Daryl, his chest heaving with rocky breaths as Shane’s tight grip didn’t let up just yet.

“You think we can manage that?” Rick repeated.

You zoned out at this point, eyes boring into the side of Shane’s skull with anger.

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“I’m coming.” You didn’t hesitate to jump at the opportunity to get away from camp for a while. The rising tension taking over was beginning to grate at you.

“That’s five”

Shane piped up “It’s not just five, you’re putting every single one of us at risk.” “Just know that Rick”

“Come on man you saw that walker. It was here.

It was in camp.

They’re moving out of the cities.

They come back, we need every able body we’ve got.

We need em here, we need em to protect camp.”

Staying focused when Shane’s voice is droning on for what seems like eternity is quite the mission lately. Listening to him is beginning to seem like nails on a chalkboard.

“-Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.”

Hearing Loris voice made you gain attention again.

“If someone left Rick behind-“ you began to join the conversation, maybe with the words aimed at Shane slightly. He clearly picked up on it as his eyes shot to you, if looks could only kill, you’d be six feet under.

“Would you want them to go back for him? Or would you let him stay handcuffed to a roof to die slowly?” Your eyes landing on Lori.

“That’s different. Rick.. he.. he isn’t like Merle. He wouldn’t get himself into that position in the first place.” The stern mom tone coming out as Lori tried to keep her composure and not snap in front of Carl.

“You think Merle purposely got himself into that position? He’s an asshole yeah, and he may have deserved it. But he didn’t expect to be handcuffed and then left behind. Not knowing if anyone was going to go back for him. It may have been an accident. But he shouldn’t have to sit there wondering if he’s just going to die from thirst and hunger or if he’s going to get torn to pieces at the hands of walkers. He may not be your family, but he’s someone’s family. You have your husband, your son. You have Shane. Merle is all Daryl has.” You’re not sure if you were even breathing during that, your chest rising up and down at a rapid speed. You felt rage. How could anyone justify this bullshit?

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Sitting in the back of the van was a bit more awkward than you anticipated. Glenn and Rick up front. You, Daryl and T-dog in the back. Maybe the tension in the back of this van was worse than the tension at camp?

You looked up smiling at T-dog as he avoided Daryl’s intense stare, before he got up and headed to the front to talk to Glenn and Rick.

Daryl kept shooting you glances whenever he thought you couldn’t see, a grunt leaving his mouth every so often as if he was about to talk but decided against it.

Just as you looked up at him, he was already staring with his open yet no words seemed to come so he just scoffed and averted his eyes anywhere but at you.

You began to grow a bit frustrated at him. “What?”

“Nothin’” he all but murmured.

“Stop grunting and scoffing at me like a dog who didn’t get enough treats, be a good boy and just say whatever it is you’ve been wanting to say for the last 15 minutes.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at yourself.

You could have sworn you saw a light tinge of pink cross his cheeks before his head dropped down facing his lap.

His mouth opened and closed, before opening once again “Why’d ya stick up for me.. for Merle back at tha’ camp?”

Oh. That’s what this was about? The intense looks he gave you before this made you think it was about anything but this.

“What do you mean?” You had to admit you were somewhat confused at this.

“Ya said it y’self, Merle, he’s an asshole. So why’d ya go out of ya way to defend him? Why didn’t ya just side with the others and leave him?” Head dropping once again as his thumb found its way to his lips as he gnawed on the nail.

Silence.

You were stuck for words. “He is an asshole. Maybe one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever known. But he’s your brother, maybe not the greatest one but still your brother no matter what. He’s all you have left. The others may not understand, but I do.” Taking a deep breath in and thinking about your next words carefully, “I honestly couldn’t give a shit about him. Doesn’t mean I want him to suffer up there on that roof. No one deserves it. Well I mean maybe some people y’no? Really bad people. And maybe Shane. Merle, he’s not necessarily one of those really bad people. He makes mistakes, says things he definitely shouldn’t and has actions that match, but don’t we all in one way or another?”

Daryl was slightly overwhelmed. Not expecting you to be so honest and caring? Somewhat caring anyway. He didn’t know what to say.

You hummed and tapped your fingers against your legs, “Nothing to say?”

“I dunno what you want me to say.”

A grin made its way to your face.

“How about a thanks?”

“Thanks.” He grumbled trying not to scoff afterwards to avoid being called a dog again.

The van began to come to a stop, Glenn saying something about walking from here.

You stood up whilst stretching your arms above your head.

“That’ll do. Good boy.”

You smirked at him before opening the back of the van and climbing out. Leaving a blushing Daryl in the back trying to hide his face as he groaned standing up.

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authors note: it’s not the greatest, I am very aware. but I really wanna get back into writing in general and I thought starting with twd would be the best place to start as it’s one of my comfort shows. there’s not much happening, it’s very heavily based on s1 e3 obviously but it’s mostly just to try and get back in the swing of things! if you have an constructive feedback or any comments you’d like to make, please feel free as it will be much appreciated :-) I’m hoping to improve my writing skills more and more. It will probably take a while (I’ve literally had the first half of this thing in my notes app since June 2024) but I hope to get to the point of making some good fics! thank you for reading if you managed to make it this far!:)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 9

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 dubcon/noncon, reference to suicide and Lloyd being offensive, and other possible triggers. 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: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thanks for all your patience.

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 <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Migraines always leave you a bit foggy. Like a hangover, or even a concussion. You power through the airport, waiting in line with your mustachioed curse. Lloyd taps his toe incessantly, adding to the plethora of overstimulation all around you. This isn’t how you envisioned your holidays.  

It’s the 26th and you’re supposed to be on your way home, not catching the flight you booked for two days before. And alone. You’re supposed to be alone. 

You take your boarding pass and leave Lloyd’s for him to grab himself. He huffs and follows after you. He’s like a big dumb dog sometimes. It’s amazing that the realization only comes over you then. It’s pretty obvious when he’s not behind a desk growling like some mafioso. He’s no kingpin, he’s a clown. 

You drop into a seat, your carry-on beside you, and he claims the seat to your left. He’s on the edge, jiggling his leg. You could thank him for upgrading you both to first class but he’s the reason you’re even there. It’s the least he could do. 

You cross your arms and stare through the haze. The first-class lounge is quiet and softly lit. Isolated but for the pest next to you. He continues to fidget. Is he nervous? You didn’t think that was possible since he seems to lack any degree of self-awareness. 

“So, gimme the down low. You got a mom? Girl like you screams daddy issues. Is he still around?” 

You sigh. “Sure is.” 

“Wow, okay. Good guy? Strict? Shit, knowing you, he must be a hard ass,” he scoffs. “Should I put on my best behaviour? Should I have worn a tie, Pixie pie?” He tugs at the collar of his turtleneck. 

“What you can do is hush,” you retort. “Jesus, I’m tryna get my head together.” 

“Last night was wild,” he agrees, though it’s not the point you were making, nor a statement of fact. “We were so close, Pix. You shoulda just laid back and let the magic hands do their tricks. Promise,” he smooths his mustache, “this isn’t just for show. I’ve been told it adds a lot of sensation--” 

“Ew. Would you—if you even say any of that in front of my family--” 

“You gonna spank me?” He asks brightly and sits back, slinging an arm over the back of your chair. 

“Please. I have to at least make this believable and you’re not making it any easier,” you snarl. 

“Are you serious? Our chemistry is like if Einstein banged a beaker--” 

“Einstein was a physicist--” 

“Science is science, baby. All I know is there’s something here and the sooner you accept it, the harder I’ll-- I mean the easier this will be.” 

You look at him dully. All those years you spent bending over backward for him. Behind the mask, he’s a cretin. You always had a suspicion but he was never your creep to deal with. 

“How do you do that?” He asks. 

You grumble and shake your head, turning your glare to the flat screen across from you. 

“How the hell do you skin a man with your eyes? It’s bone tingling and boner-inducing, but damn, it’s something else,” he shifts in his chair noticeably, “you’re gonna make me fly all the way to Canada at half-mast?” 

“You can book a seat across the plane from me if you’re going to keep on,” you warn him. “I’m really not in the mood. We have a deal. I’ll do my part. Pretend, nothing more, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself and give me my money.” 

“I got it, baby. I’m a businessman,” he turns straight and plants his feet wide. “I make deals every day. You’ll get yours.” 

“I want an advance--” 

“An advance? What the hell do you mean? I paid for first-class. Elite,” he punctuates with his finger. “Advance, my juicy ass.” 

“Ten. In my account. Before take-off.” 

“Pfft, you don’t trust me?” 

“No, I don’t,” you affirm. “More so, you owe me. I defaulted on the refund on the flight you made me miss. Oh, and I didn’t get to see my family. On Christmas.” 

“Jeez, well you don’t seem that happy to,” he accuses. 

“Money, now.” 

“Fine, but I get one titty grab--” 

“You get nothing. Mon-ey.” You rub your fingers together. 

He huffs and leans forward as he takes his phone out. He rolls his eyes and taps around on the screen. He takes a deep breath then pushes down. He shows you the screen. “Go ahead and check. You got your blood money.” 

“This is your idea,” you retort. 

“It is my idea but you’re rejecting all my other ones. Like, you know, a sexy massage with a happy ending...” 

“You’re going to give me another headache.” 

“I’ll take it. At least I make you feel something.” He shrugs. 

You shake your head at nothing and check your phone. You can never be too careful with him. Sharing a room has more than proven that. 

🎁

You put the in-flight earbuds in and resign yourself to the hours ahead of you, trapped in a flying canister, next to this incessant man-child. He really brings out the bitch in you. That irritates you even more. You could do anything before without much thought at all; you just got through but Lloyd makes everything a task. 

You close your eyes as the video babbles on. It’s a new release, but those are all remakes and sequels without any real interest. The altitude does little for the shadow of achiness that lingers in the base of your skull. One wrong move and you’ll reawaken your migraine. 

The steady thrum of air around the plane lulls you in a stupor. Just enough for you to stop caring but not deep enough for sleep. You let your head fall toward the window and sink into the numb daze. 

A small tickle makes you shift. You think nothing of it. It’s so small, it could be nothing. Then the sensation travels down to your knee and back up your thigh. You smack Lloyd’s hand before he can repeat the action. 

“Quit,” you hiss. 

He spreads his hand and curls his fingers into your tender flesh. You squeak and open your eyes, clasping onto his wrist as he needs. It’s as if he pinching your nerves. 

“Ow, oh, stop--” you protest. 

“Come on, baby,” he leans over and winks. “Just let me pet the kitty. It’ll help you relax.” 

“How many times can I tell you the same thing--” 

“Just like a dog, you need to be repetitive. Conditioning or whatever,” he purrs. 

You glance past him at the low wall blocking out your seats from the sight of the other pods in first class. You clutch his two middle fingers and squeeze. You bend them back until he grunts and recoils. 

“You touching me isn’t going to make me relax--” 

“Never know if you don’t try,” he wiggles his brows. 

“Trust me, I know.” 

“I’m sure your family don’t need you in a pissy mood. I’m doing it for them, Pixie.” 

“Can I ask you something?” You narrow your eyes, “does the begging usually work?” 

He snorts. He shakes his head and sits back, raising his palms, “you will be flattered to know I don’t usually beg.” He leans against the seat and rests his head on the cushion. “When I tell a girl to hike her skirt up, she just does it. All of them but you.” He clucks and rolls his eyes. “You know that pretty blond from Pristine? Yeah, whenever she comes around, I got her bent over the desk. Thought you’d catch on, she’s not very quiet.” 

You won’t grace him with an excuse. You don’t need one. You’re usually busy, minding your own business, running his errands. You never cared about his office flings. 

“Maybe you should’ve asked her to meet your family,” you suggest. 

“Kidding me? She never shuts up. I gotta stuff my tie in her mouth. Usually why I turn her around--” 

“Lloyd,” you snap. 

“Jealous?” He smirks and you stare back blankly. “You know what? Gotta admit, you surprised me, Pixie Pie. Always quiet in the office, scurrying around like a little mouse. I figured you’d be good because you’d keep the yapper shut. Turns out, you know how to cut deep.” He pushes his shoulders wide and settles. “Never saw mom like that. Or Lillian. Yeah, that was good. You really got her.” 

He snickers and flutters his fingers menacingly. You yawn and look at the small screen. You don’t know what’s going on in the movie. What you do know is that Lloyd Hansen has more issues than one person can solve and you’re not there for anything but business. This is work. You’re getting your money and you’re moving on. 

🎁

Landing is usually a relief. You’re always happy to be on solid ground but it feels shaky as you walk off with your travel companion. The bounce in Lloyd’s step concerns you. He’s much too eager for this. 

He grabs his bags from the carousel, yours too before you can even approach. He loads them all onto a car and steers it around the airport. He’s whistling as you get through the terminal and head for the front doors. As you step outside, he chatters and stops short. 

“Holy grizzly dick, it’s freezing here,” he puffs a cloud of steam as his nose tints pink. 

“There’s not much more snow here than back in the States.” 

“Nah, it’s fucking frigid. Should’ve known,” he shivers and tucks his chin down. You make note of his snipe but don’t acknowledge it. “You maple drinkers drive on the same side of the road?” You glare at him and he winces as he meets your eyes. You’ve booked him trips to Vancouver several times. “Kidding. Obviously. That whole polite stereotype is bullshit, huh, Pix.” 

You ignore him and hail a cab. You just want to be still. The last few days, you’ve been upended. The long drive, his family, the hotel, then a plane ride on top of it all. You’re ready to just stop. 

He wheels the cart around to the trunk and leaves it to the driver to load. You want to admonish him but you’re over the argument. You know you’re going to need your energy. You get in and he climbs in with you.  

He blows into his hands then rubs his cheek. “Santa dropped a load on this place, huh?” He unzips his coat and reaches under it. He fishes around the inside pocket and slips out a pair of glasses. You furrow your nose. You’ve never seen him wear glasses. 

“Where did you get those?” 

“Hipster boy in coach. Snagged them when I hit the restroom,” he explains and pops them on, leaning against you as he cranes to see his reflection in the rear-view mirror. 

“You stole glasses?” 

“Borrowed,” he insists then turns to you. “What’d ya think? Am I the perfect good boy for mom and pop?” 

“You think glasses are gonna do something?” 

“We talked about this, we gotta be convincing, sweetheart. I gotta be a man that sweet lil Pixie would go for.” He adjusts the glasses. “I read Hemingway and have a degree in Social Justice.” 

“Shut--” you catch yourself and sniff. “I don’t even like Hemingway.” 

“Jane Austen? Really? A romantic?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“I’d say. We have to at least pretend we can stand each other. Not just...” he looks down at his lap, “stand for each other.” 

“Ugh, well, start with cutting out those nasty remarks. Second, try, uh, taking care of...” you gesture over your lip, “this.” 

He blinks and his brows draw together. He touches his upper lip, “my mustache?” His eyes widen behind the lenses. “Um, this is style, honey.” 

You scrunch your lips as you try not to laugh. He really believes that. You shrug as the driver gets in. He crosses his arms. 

“Whatever. Judge me but don’t just the stache,” he snips. “So, you gotta tell me. Favourite book.” 

“Do I?” 

“Well, we’re ‘engaged’ so I think I should know,” he argues. 

You watch through the windshield as the taxi follows the airport traffic to the street, “The Bell Jar. If I have to choose one.” 

“Oooh, Plath. How... depressing. But I knew it, you’re a reader, Pixie. Bet you like to sink into a hot tub and get cozy with a good novel. You get the kinky one, let the hand wander below the surface--” 

You elbow him and he cackles. “Alright, sorry. I just—a man’s used to eating daily.” 

“Maybe a diet will do you well,” you retort. 

“Cheat day will come soon enough,” he says. “I’ll do my best to keep my pants on, just don’t go putting your head in any ovens.” 

“You’re awful,” you exclaim. “That’s awful.” 

“Alright,” he combs his hair back, “gonna be a good boy. Promise.” 

“You can take the glasses off.” 

“I kinda like ‘em,” he grins and pinches the arms. 

You make a face but say nothing. The city passes by and your eyes gloss over the familiar sights. The taxi drops you at the rental place and you pull up the booking. There’s at least an hour before you get outside Toronto, then another to your mom’s place. You take the keys and jingle them at Lloyd. 

“Wanna drive?” You ask. 

“I don’t really know where I’m going,” he says. 

“Right.” 

“Besides, Pixie, you got control issues.” 

“Me?” You scoff. “Sure.” 

“Oh, you do,” he assures you as you cross the lot to the rental. “Once you give in to them, you’ll be a lot happier and I'll be your perfect sub.” 

You pop the trunk and tut as you approach the driver’s side, “get the bags in the car, would ya?” 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

endure & survive | ii. don't shoot

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x single mother!reader

chapter content: MINORS DNI, written in dual POV/first person POV, no description/name given to reader, reader is a single mother, age gap (twenty-ish years), grief, gun talk/threats

word count: 3.9k

series masterlist | previous chapter

JOEL 

“Easy, now. Don’t shoot,” I say, raising my hands slowly with my palms facing the woman currently aiming the barrel of a shotgun at my face.  

“Fuck you,” she spits, tightening her grip on her gun. “Go or I’ll shoot your head right the fuck off.” 

“The hell you will!” Ellie’s voice sounds from the stranger’s other side, causing me to let out a low curse. When I chance a glance at her, she’s holding her pistol like I taught her, aiming it at the woman’s head.  

“Ellie—“ 

“Who the fuck is she? Your ward?” the stranger asks, her brows furrowing as she adjusts her position to be able to watch us both.  

“I’m the one aiming a gun at your head, dipshit,” Ellie returns.  

“Hey,” I hiss, snapping my hand at her while remaining as still as possible. “Language.” 

“She’s trying to shoot you,” Ellie replies, as if I’m the senseless one here. She’s still young enough to enjoy the thrill of a fight. Me, on the other hand, I’m just trying to get out of this without a gunshot wound.  

“Haven’t tried yet,” the stranger corrects. “Just threatened to.” 

“And I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way,” I say, focusing back on the woman a few yards away from me. “We’re just passin’ through. Didn’t know anybody was out here. That’s all.” 

“Then you can continue passing,” she says, jutting her chin towards the treeline behind us.  

“Alright,” I say, backing away slowly. “Ellie, c’mon.” 

“What the fuck, Joel?” Ellie groans. “She has a fucking fireplace.” 

“And a gun pointed right at me,” I remind. “We can find someplace else—“ 

“Mama,” a tiny voice interrupts me, and I watch as a kid half Ellie’s age steps out of the cabin and onto the porch.  

“Baby, get back inside,” the woman—the child’s mother—commands, softening her voice for him.  

I watch as she struggles to pick who to focus her attention on��her son, or Ellie and I. In the end, it’s her son that wins as she lowers her gun and guides the boy to hide behind her leg, his skinny hands clinging to her worn and weathered sweater. 

“Shit,” Ellie says, lowering her gun as she shoots me a glance before turning back to the woman. “I didn’t realize you had a kid. Just so you know, I wasn’t going to shoot unless you shot first.” 

The woman lets out what I think is meant to be a chuckle, but sounds more like a scoff. “You do realize you’re a kid, too?” 

“Eh,” is Ellie’s only response, along with a casual shrug of her shoulders.  

“Listen,” I butt in, slowly making my way over to Ellie. “Clearly, you know what it’s like to have a kid out here in all this mess. We ain’t lookin’ to make any trouble for you and yours, long as you don’t make any for us.” 

“I’m sensing there’s more to this speech than just stating the obvious,” she says, her free hand still firmly grasping the hilt of her shotgun.  

“We’ve been out here in the cold for weeks now,” I say. Calmly. Hesitantly. If I wasn’t feeling as bone tired as this, as desperate for just a bit of warmth, I would never even consider bunking up with two strangers, especially with Ellie in tow. But even though it might not look like it, I know my limits. I know that if we keep on out here in this weather, there’s a chance we won’t make it another twenty miles, let alone the hundreds between here and Salt Lake.  

“Absolutely not,” she says, shaking her head adamantly as she backs her and her son up a step towards her front door. “You two could be infected for all I know. As good of a person I’d like to think I am, there’s no way I’m letting you in here with my son.” 

“We’re not infected,” I say, though I know those words have been spoken by plenty who hadn’t meant them. Or hadn’t realized yet. But all I’ve got is my word and the hope that she’ll trust it. “I know I can’t prove it, but I’m askin’ you to trust that I’d never put a kid in harm's way.” 

“You allow yours to carry around a pistol,” she says, pointing towards Ellie. “You bring her to break into random cabins in the middle of the woods. Your word doesn’t mean shit to me.” 

I know a losing battle when I see one. I can sit here and beg all I want, but she’s never going to cave. I can’t say I’d do any different if I were in her position. Hell, I actually kind of respect her more for it.  

“Alright,” I concede, even though it hurts to. Just a night in a warm, dry place would’ve been enough for me to regain some of the energy and fight I desperately need out here. But I ain’t about to stand here and grovel, strip myself down and prove to her that there aren’t any bites marring my skin, just scars and proof of the hard life I’ve lived. Besides, if she got even one look at Ellie’s wrist, we’d both be dead. It’s better this way. Safer. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.  

“Dude,” Ellie scolds—or whines, rather. I shoot her a warning look that does little to wipe the outrage off her face.  

“C’mon,” I order, stepping backwards towards the tree line. I might not have a gun pointed at me right now, but no way in hell am I going to turn my back on that murderous looking woman. 

Not when I know exactly what I’d do if I were in her position. 

READER 

Empathy’s a fucking bitch sometimes.  

I don’t want to let these two strangers onto my property. I don’t want to risk the chance that they’ll endanger Colt and I. But fuck, it’s cold outside, and the storm clouds brewing above us prove it’s only going to get colder.  

If it had just been the guy, I would’ve had no issue telling him to fuck right off. I would’ve had no issue shooting him dead if he refused to do so. But that kid with him fucked my hard exterior all the way up—even if she doesn’t talk or act much like a kid at all. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen, just a few years older than I was when the virus spread and changed the world for good. I remember what it felt like to be that young, dealing with things no generation before me had ever dealt with. I remember how scared I was, how hopeless I felt. And that was in the relatively new and safe confinements of the QZ. I couldn’t imagine being out here in the open that young. And fuck, I can’t imagine how anxious her dad, or whatever the fuck the guy was to her, must be, having no shelter or safety to run to if shit was to go down out here.  

And so, humanity coming out on top, I open my mouth and seal my son and I’s fate. 

“Wait,” I call out, just as the two of them reach the tree line. The girl—Ellie, I think her name is—stops first, spinning around like she’d been expecting this all along. The guy is next to turn, giving me a skeptical quirk of his brow as if he expected hadn’t expected this at all. “Even if I wanted to let the two of you into the cabin, there’s no room.” 

I see the light die a bit more in both of their eyes. The man purses his lips before giving me a solitary nod. “Alright.” 

“But there’s a shed right over there,” I say, pointing behind me to the small, wooden building on the other side of the cabin. “It’s not much, but there’s a furnace and firewood. I can heat up some water and let the two of you use the bathroom inside the cabin to clean up. Maybe see if I can spare some food.” 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Ellie beams, already making her way across the snow. The man she’s with looks hesitant to follow, but he looks more hesitant to let her carry on without him, and so he joins her.  

“Thank you,” he mutters as he passes the porch, locking eyes with me as if he’s just as suspicious over my good will as I am about him and the girl’s intentions. I only nod in response and pull Colt tighter to me. He’ll no doubt have a million and one questions about our guests, seeing as we’ve never had any before.  

In fact, these two are the only people he’s ever seen, aside from me. He never even got to see his own father, and now I’m bringing two strangers into his life.  

Strangers that could kill us. Strangers that could infect us.  

All because of my stupid, empathetic, hopeful heart that’s telling me that there’s something different about these two.  

Something safe.  

JOEL  

“This is...” Ellie trails off as she scans the shed that’s hardly large enough to fit a twin sized bed—if we had the luxury of having a twin sized bed, that is.  

“It’s better than bein’ out in the cold,” I say, not giving her a chance to shit on the small space. It’s a miracle that woman didn’t shoot us dead, let alone that she let us stay on her property.  

I move over to the old furnace in the corner of the space and squat to check it out. The thing looks ancient, even to my old eyes, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The older the appliance, the less likely it is to need things we don’t have access to, like gas or electricity. And this old beast looks like it runs strictly off of good old-fashioned burning logs.  

“Alright, you stay put,” I order with a grunt as I stand upright. “I’m goin’ t’grab some logs. Maybe see about some hot water.” 

“What the fuck do I do, then?” she asks, lifting her hands before letting them fall to her sides. “Just sit here and freeze?” 

“Could make yourself useful and clean the old ashes out of the furnace,” I say with a shrug as I shove open the rickety wooden door. “Or you can sit there. Either way, you’re stayin’ put.” 

She grumbles something that I don’t manage to catch as I walk back out into the cold, but what’s new. Always a smart-assed remark from her loaded up and ready to go. Her and Bill would’ve had a hell of a time going back and forth.  

As I trudge through the snow, I try not to think about my now deceased friend and instead fix my attention onto the pile of logs I remember seeing on the other side of the cabin. Only when I reach the porch do I hear the sound of two voices—one feminine and soft and one tiny and energetic—going back and forth.  

“So they’re going to be living with us?” the boy asks, and from where I’m standing just around the corner, I can see him following his mother back and forth from the river to the back porch of the cabin as she fills buckets up with ice-cold water from the creek behind the cabin.  

“Not permanently,” she says with a sigh. “Just until the storm passes.” 

“Can I go play with the girl, then? Until the storm passes?” 

“No, baby,” she says, and another, deeper sigh slips free as she prepares for the inevitable follow-up question kids his age always have ready to go. 

“Why?” he whines, stomping his boot to emphasize his point.  

“Because,” she says, stopping in place to look down at him. “We don’t know them. We don’t know if they’re safe.” 

“She didn’t look infected,” he says softly, looking down at his shoes with a frown. “I just wanted to play.” 

Suddenly, I’m hyper aware that I’ve been standing here eavesdropping on an intimate moment between the two of them. Clearing my throat, I continue on toward them—toward the logs that sit in a pile a few feet from them. Instinctively, the woman reaches for her son and pulls him close. I don’t blame her or take offense. She doesn’t know me. It’s the same reason I told Ellie to stay put. 

“Just grabbin’ some logs,” I say as a way of greeting.  

“I’m about to start heating up some water for you two,” she says, gesturing at the buckets that sit full on the back porch.  

“Thank you,” I reply as I scoop up a few logs and tuck them under my arm, ready to go my own way and leave the two of them be.  

“Wait—” Her voice stops me, and I turn to face her with furrowed brows. “What was your name?” 

Right. Hadn’t had time to do the whole introductions thing with guns pointed at each other.  

“Joel,” I say, before tilting my head towards the shed. “And her name’s Ellie.” 

She tells me her name and then her son’s, Colt. When I lock eyes with the boy, he gives me a friendly smile and a timid wave.  

Poor kid. Being sheltered like this hasn’t taught him a thing about being friendly to strangers.  

But he’s not my problem.  

Neither of them are. 

READER 

It’s an hour after exchanging names that I invite Ellie into the cabin to use the bathroom. There’s no running water out here, just buckets of water collected from the creek out back that I’ve boiled on the wood-burning stove. Whoever owned this cabin in the days of old made a wise choice at keeping all the appliances ancient and manual. It was one of the many reasons Kit and I settled here to begin with. That and the cold weather that keeps stragglers from venturing this far north during the autumn and winter months.  

Her guardian—Joel—has chosen to remain close by as she uses the bathroom, lingering on the porch in the cold rather than sit in the old shed. I get it. He doesn’t trust me, and even though I’d never harm that kid without a good reason to, it’s a smart move on his part.  

Trust is a fragile thing these days. It’s something I’ve only ever given to one person. Something I’ve only ever received from two.  

“You hungry?” I ask, stepping out onto the porch with a bowl of steaming stew in hand. It’s not anything to write home about in terms of flavor and quality of ingredients, but it’s hot and it’s enough to fill a stomach. These days, that’s about as much as anyone can ask for.  

Joel tilts his head towards me, his brows furrowed as his eyes drift from mine to the bowl in my hand. There’s flecks of snow laying gently on top of his brown and grey curls, at the tips of his eyelashes. Clearly, he doesn’t want to accept the food, but with him out here turning into Jack Frost, there’s no way I’m backing down. “Listen, you don’t have to eat it, but I’m going to leave it out here with you in case you change your mind. When Ellie comes out, there’s food waiting for her, too.” 

“You put anything in it?” he asks, hesitating before lifting his hand to take the bowl from mine.  

“Running low on poison these days,” I say dryly, earning another one of those unreadable, unamused looks of his. I can’t say my face tells any different of a story. “Look, believe me or not, I didn’t poison the damn food. Just trying to do the decent thing here.” 

He sets the bowl down beside him and turns to face me a bit more, his jaw ticking as he studies me like an opponent. “I appreciate all that you’re doin’, lettin’ us stay here and all, but let’s not get this twisted. We’ve both got people to protect. I’m not takin’ any chances with mine, and I trust you’re not takin’ any with yours. Let’s just agree to take care of our own and leave all this other shit out of it.” 

Okay, asshole.  

“It was a bowl of soup, not my fucking hand in marriage,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “But you don’t want decency, that’s fine. I’m still going to offer what I can to Ellie because she’s a kid and deserves to be shown some decency.” 

“She’s fine.“ 

“She’s capable of telling me to fuck off just like you have,” I counter as I lean down and scoop the bowl off the porch. “Hope that pride keeps you warm and full tonight. Dick.” 

JOEL 

I might’ve been a little harsh earlier, but something about the way she was looking at me set me off. It looked too much like pity, maybe even judgement. She probably thinks I’m some reckless, negligent guardian who can’t take care of a kid. To be fair, I might be. But I’ll be damned if I let this woman I don’t know judge me and treat me like some charity case when Ellie and I are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves.  

It’s just this fucking storm rolling in that had us out here seeking shelter. The minute this blizzard rolls through and skies clear up a bit, we’re gone. And the less of a debt we owe, the better.  

Though I turned my nose up at the hot stew I was offered—a decision my stomach is angry at me for—I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to take a warm bath. Even if it was creek water. Even if the water only made it up to my hips. Warmth is warmth, and my aching bones have needed it more than I realized.  

Dragging a wash cloth over my arms, I marvel at the amount of dirt and grime I’ve been wearing for however long it’s been. Twenty years ago, I’d be disgusted. These days, I’m surprised it’s not worse. Even in the QZ, people just got used to being dirty all the damn time. You washed the important bits—the bits you planned on giving others access to—but the rest often went neglected. After all, what’s the sense in scrubbing yourself clean every day when you’re just going to get caked in blood and sweat and mud and ash the next day?  

I was surprised to see that our host had a decent stockpile of bar soaps underneath the sink. The smuggler I used to be would’ve swiped a good chunk of it for myself, but those days are long in the past now. Besides, she’s got that kid of hers to worry about keeping clean. No sense in letting all that soap go to waste on a man who doesn’t even have access to clean water most of the time.  

Using the already used bar that sits on the ledge, I lather my body up and take in the scent of Irish Spring—something clean and artificial and nostalgic all at the same time. It makes me feel a bit more human. A bit less like an animal trained for survival.  

Surviving is all I’ve done, even when it was the last thing I meant to do.  

I find myself wondering about Tommy, about his survival. I wonder if he’s somewhere with Irish Spring and warm meals or if he’s gotten himself into trouble. I wonder if he’s even alive.  

God, I hope he is.  

A knock at the door startles me out of my thoughts.  

“Dude, did you pass out in there? The kid needs to use the bathroom!” Ellie shouts, clearly disobeying my command to head back to the shed and wait for me. I sigh, using the last bit of water in the bucket to rinse myself off before pulling the plug out of the drain.  

It only take me a minute to dry off and get dressed into the spare set of clothes I have tucked into my pack. They’re not much cleaner, but it’s better than what I’ve been wearing for weeks now. Eventually, I’ll have to break down and wash them in some creek when the weather gets warmer, but we’re a long ways away from that.  

“Sorry,” I mutter as I step out of the bathroom, finding Ellie sitting on an old armchair in the tiny living room that doubles as the bedroom. In the corner, on an old queen mattress, sits our host and her son, but only Colt looks my way.  

“Have a nice bath?” he asks, friendly and surprisingly well articulated for his age.  

I grunt in response before turning to Ellie. “I told you to wait in the shed.” 

“I was offered food,” she says, feigning manners I know she doesn’t possess. “It would be rude to turn it down.” 

“You’d think,” our host mutters under her breath, just loud enough for my shitting hearing to catch it.  

“C’mon,” I say, snapping my fingers at Ellie.  

“Thank you for the bath and the food,” Ellie says, earning a polite nod and a small smile from our host. “Colt, it was nice talking dinosaurs with you.” 

“You too,” he says with a giggle, kicking his feet off the edge of the bed. “Bye Ellie. Bye Joel.” 

Once again, I don’t reply.  

“You could be a little nicer,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes as we walk through the snow to the shed. “She told me how you turned her food down. Big mistake, by the way. Shit was gooooood.” 

“Got food of my own,” I grumble.  

“Ah, yes. Cold, canned beans. So much better than hot stew.”  

“I’ll be fine,” I say, and it’s true. I’ve had less and worse to eat in the last twenty years.  

“Just saying,” she says as we nestle ourselves into the small shed. I’m quick to get the furnace reignited, my hair too wet to be out in this cold for much longer. “She’s nice, Colt’s cool. Maybe you play your cards right and you’ll have a girlfriend and a stepson to come back to after we’re done in Salt Lake.” 

“Very funny.” 

“Seriously! She’s hot in like a mom sort of way. Why not?” 

“I’m good,” I say, shaking my head as I sit down against the wall and bask in the warmth of the fire. “Not on the market.” 

“But if you were—“ 

“She’d still be twenty some odd years younger than me.” 

“Boring,” Ellie yawns, curling up on the floor with her backpack as a pillow. “Whatever. Just trying to set your depressed ass up for some happiness.”  

“Can you act like a normal kid for one second?” I ask, my voice groggy with sleep. “Set yourself up for some sleep.” 

“Fuck you,” she mumbles, already halfway gone.  

“Yeah, goodnight to you too, kid.” 

[ramp-it-up]

Worth the Fall

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Despite the fact you have questions about Bucky and your parents’ conversation at Thanksgiving, you’re hitting your groove as a couple, but there is no time for alone time.

Word count: 3.4 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This part of the story is getting everything caught up to a month ago, lmao. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (I hope you do!)

This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after both You've Got Me Thinking and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Initial angst, Steve and Peach, Bucky’s anxiety. No time for nookie! Flirting Intimations of sexting and phone sex. Praise kink, fluffy Bucky, horny Bucky, dom Bucky. F@cking versus making love, wall time, sex with clothes on, raw p in v, creampie, after care, intimations of oral (f receiving!) dirty talk, Bucky applies for a second job. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

You walked along the sand and inhaled the ocean air.

You were shaken to the core. 

Bucky Barnes had surely just taken your parents out to ask for your hand in marriage. But it was so soon, how could he be so sure?

Also, you were an independent woman. How dare he talk to your parents before he asked you to marry him!

He wasn’t your feudal lord.

You were scared witless and turned to the waves to try and calm down. 

“He loves the hell out of you, you know.”

Steve had fallen in beside you as you stared at the ocean. You looked up at him, trying to smile, but failing. To Steve you looked terrified.

“It’s just so….”

Steve smiled to himself, remembering that Bucky had purchased the ring weeks before, after just a few days of knowing you. But that wasn’t his story to tell.

“Just know that I’ve never seen him like this. And I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s never been so open, so determined with a woman before. You make him a better man. It’s truly amazing.”

Steve looked so earnest. Your cousin had done quite a number on him.

“You don’t have to be scared. You are ‘The One’ for him.”

This time you managed a smile and an arched eyebrow. You had a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about his best friend.

Steve chuckled.

“Gah. Don’t look at me like that. You and Peach and that eyebrow.”

You laughed at that and grinned, more relaxed now.

Steve looked off into the waves himself.

“So fucking cute…”

He looked down and kicked a rock, a small smile on his face. You could tell he had it bad.

“Thanks for the pep talk Steve-o. And I get what you’re saying. I love Bucky Barnes with all my might, making every other relationship I’ve ever had seem… trivial.”

You glanced at Steve, who was nodding at your sentiment.

“I’m just spooked at the possibilities. I mean…this seems…like a lot.”

“I know. Bucky gets intense.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Understatement of the year. And you’re a lot like your friend.”

Steve looked at you, one eye closed from the sunlight in his eyes. He didn’t have any sunglasses and the sun highlighted his windswept hair and the planes of his handsome face. You were squinting at him and you could totally see why Peach let him touch her goodies. 

Steve was kinda hot.

You sighed.

“Listen. I’ll be alright. Bucky and I just need to chat.”

Steve smirked.

“Chat. Is that what the kids call it now?”

You laughed and swatted him on the arm as you continued walking again.

“Fuck you, Steve. But for real. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it. And I love you for it. I just wish my cousin could see this side of you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Fucked that up good, didn’t I?”

“Not gonna lie, she’s kinda blinded by rage right now. But don’t give up on her. She’ll come around.”

Steve looked at you skeptically and you shrugged.

“80– 75% chance she’ll come around.”

You both laughed.

“Just remember what I said yesterday. She’s a tough nut, but she has a huge heart behind that wall. She is determined about the success of that dance school and she is competitive as fuck. You know what to do.”

Steve grinned. 

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

—-

You and Steve re-entered the kitchen laughing, you holding on to his arm. 

Peach was at the table drinking coffee and dedicated to ignoring Steve.

“Thanks again for the pep talk Steve. I appreciate it.”

You gave him a long hug and when you separated, you saw Peach’s eyebrow cocked in what you could only imagine was the way Steve described. You stifled a giggle and leaned up on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“You better stop before Bucky comes back and chops me in the throat.”

Peach humphed, and you knew exactly what she was thinking.

You laughed at Steve as he headed toward the stairs, ignoring Peach right back.

“I’m gonna go get my running shoes. A turn down the beach will help me get some of this tension out.”

You watched Peach as she watched Steve roll his neck and stretch on his way out of the room, her coffee stalled in mid air. Her head was on a swivel as he walked out of the room, checking out his formidable ass. She sighed and then remembered that you were there.

You looked at her and she looked at you.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word, cousin. Yet. But we will talk later. Any coffee left?”

—-

The week ended up smoother than when Bucky and Steve arrived, and before you and he and Steve left on the jet back to New York, Bucky surprised everyone with an invitation to Vermont for Christmas. 

Your heart did a funny little thing because why would he invite your entire family on an all expense holiday vacation from Christmas Eve to New Years unless he was going to…

You couldn’t dwell on what ifs, and you didn’t want to spook yourself. You just decided to appreciate the moment.

It was funny watching your cousin’s face and the corresponding look on Steve’s. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be stressful at all.

Perhaps there would be entertainment.

—---

Later, back in Brooklyn, there was a whirlwind of activity as the Rebirth Foundation geared up for the annual summit and gala. 

During the second week in December, Rebirth Endowment recipients (which included your cousin this year!) flew in, were oriented and toured around New York City. The two culminating events were the summit, held at NYU, where there was an art lecture series, a panel, and the gala. 

Steve usually participated in the summit by himself, with Sam or Natasha sometimes joining him on stage along with the city’s movers and shakers in the art scene.

But this year Bucky was participating.

He said he wanted to be more prominent in the Art community moving forward as a path toward legitimacy, and you knew that tangentially, that had something to do with you.

When you got back from Thanksgiving, there was a week to prepare for the activities. Your Arts and Culture Alliance in Brownsville, as a part of Rebirth through the Howard Benson exhibit, was a stop on the tour, and you had a ton of work to do. 

Bucky and his three partners obviously had their own long list of to dos, but he also needed to be there for Steve, who was a wreck at the thought of Peach coming into town. 

Steve was so far gone.

But James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d never seen Bucky Barnes shook. 

Sure, you’d seen him excited, impatient, horny, angry, and a little irritated, but never truly nervous.

And you shouldn’t have thought it, but it was adorable. 

Friday night, you met your cousin at the airport and witnessed the beginning of her downfall. The cocktail reception later at the hotel had her, and by proxy your own, head spinning. 

You grinned at the way Steve was handling everything. 

Bucky was beautiful and you admired him as he toasted the guests, his beautiful tenor a nice contrast from Steve’s baritone as they both gave their salutations. Only you knew how anxious he was to speak in front of people and for everything to go well. You felt privileged.

You realized that James Buchanan Barnes was a good man who just wanted to be better for you and for his community.

And suddenly you were not afraid of a future with him.

—-

During this time, you two shared brief cuddles and quick kisses, furtive touches and brief bouts of handholding when you saw each other at events. The mornings meant salacious pictures and quick phone sex to take the edge off, but you weren’t able to luxuriate in each other as you usually did.

You missed Bucky’s full attention, but the fact that you were working together on something worthwhile was the shit. You loved this man and you wanted to work beside him as an equal, not just be his sex toy.

This was the week that you fell completely in love with Bucky Barnes.

Thursday was the day of the Rebirth Art Summit and Bucky was pacing up and down his home office, reading glasses switching locations from perched on top of his head, to his delectable mouth, to his handsome face as he reviewed his notes.

You looked up from the ones in your hands with which you were quizzing him and smiled at him.

“Jamie, it’s going to be okay.”

He stopped to look at you, a faint smile on his face. He came over and pecked you on the lips and gave you a hug.

“‘M so glad you are here tonight, even though you tried to stay away.”

You sighed into his chest and took a deep breath, inhaling his Bucky smell.

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I was just giving you space. I know tomorrow is important to you and I don’t want to distract—”

“Frumoasă. You don’t distract from anything. If anything, you add to my life. You add so, so much. I love you. And I miss you. I want you here with me tonight.”

You melted into him, chuckled and shook your head as he held you. This feeling was crazy.

“What?”

You heard his voice in his chest, but he didn’t move, except to sway just a little, as if soothing you. It worked.

“I love you too, Bucky. And I miss you too. So much. It’s wild to feel so much in such a short amount of time.”

You and Bucky had only been together about three months, but you knew this was it.

“When you know, you know, my love. And we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

You hugged him tighter. What was understood didn’t need to be said.

He kissed the top of your head and then moved back so he could see into your eyes.

“And having you in my space while I get ready for an important event is everything.”

You looked him in the eye, thinking of sucking his dick for being such a dream.

“Bucky…”

Bucky took your hand and raised it to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, Frumoasă. I will be forced to fuck you all night long, something that is long overdue.”

He kissed your forehead.

“But there is much work to do.”

You cast your eyes down and whispered, “You’re right.”

Bucky took you in, looking so demure and being so patient with him. It was such a turn on.

“Such a Good Girl for me.”

You wanted to fall to your knees, but you just bit your lip and went to sit back down, crossing your legs as you began quizzing him again. 

Soon, you told your pulsing pussy. Soon.

You worked late into the night and soon dozed on the leather couch in his study. The next morning, you woke in Bucky’s bed with a sweet note on your pillow. You smiled and knew that he’d carried you to bed and held you all night long.

—--

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

You sucked your teeth at your cousin’s comment, but you didn’t pull your gaze away from Bucky up on the dias the next day at NYU. 

You were proud and in awe of your man. Your smirk turned into a grin as he glanced at you and started to speak.

You were down bad. And Bucky was too. After almost two weeks with little to no physicality, your energy was at supernova strength and about to cause a black hole in the universe.

That’s how intense this thing was. 

You were wet and hard and soft in all the right places.

Bucky had to pause frequently for the interpreter, and it gave you a chance to make googly eyes at each other. You ignored Peach’s subtle retching noises as you concentrated on Bucky. But you cut your eyes over to her while Steve spoke and found her visibly eye fucking him. You smirked when she noticed you noticing.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

She was trying to distract you. You laughed.

“Fucking-A.” 

You nodded up at the stage.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You were shocked as hell when she responded.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

You elected not to tease her about her response. It seemed as if Steve was working the plan.

You resumed watched as Bucky did his thing. He was glowing, handsome and impressive as hell. No one would believe he was as introverted as he was. But he was flourishing in the spotlight, seemingly born for his. He exuded confidence. 

It was such a turn on.

—-

Bucky watched you watching him and talking to your cousin and knew your tells. You were probably wet and ready for him. He briefly thought of what he was going to do to you later before he refocused on the task at hand. Knowing you were there for him was such motivation.

When he made his way back over to you, you were an angel, giving him a huge hug and exclaiming, “You were so fucking good up there, Jamie! I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky felt his heart explode and although someone was pulling him away from you, he mouthed a promise in your direction.

—-

“Later...”

You definitely read those sexy lips and your heart started racing. You looked around for your cousin, expecting to be roasted, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged and made your way to the subway, assuming that she was gathering with the other recipients. There was more work to do in Brownsville and you were busy anticipating the night.

You waited all day for Bucky’s text to tell you what time Nico was picking you up, but it never came. The rest of the day flew by and by the time you were walking home, daydreaming of dressing up for the gala tomorrow night and what Bucky might wear, you happened to check your phone and saw messages he’d sent just 10 minutes before:

You looked so good today. Especially this morning. Good enough to eat.

I’ll be at your place in 30. Wear that bra, no top, that skirt, no panties, and those heels.

You blushed and thought of the mirror selfie of the cream lace lingerie set you were wearing underneath your cream colored cowl neck sweater and grey wool pencil skirt that matched your grey wool coat.

Yes, Daddy, you replied and picked up the pace to make it to your brownstone ahead of him, your heart beating a mile a minute.

You thought you were prepared when you opened the door after Bucky knocked, but you weren’t.

In fact, you were shaking with anticipation.

There he was, bundled up from the cold, but those blue eyes sparkling down at you.

Bucky stared at you for a beat, and then walked toward you, taking your face in his hands and backing you up against the entryway wall, kicking the door closed behind him.

“My Frumoasă. So good. So perfect”

And then he leaned down and kissed you.

—-

Bucky had the strangest thought as you opened your door.

I’m home.

Although this was not his place, he realized that you were his home and that he couldn’t wait to make you his wife. His eyes swept down your form, pleased that you had followed instructions. You were such a badass, capable woman and partner and he just had to be inside you soon. 

He complimented you and his cock stiffened as your mouth parted in desire. He knew your praise kink very well. Bucky cradled your beautiful face and moved inside to kiss you.

His demanding mouth parted your trembling lips, sending tremors through your body. You clung to the lapels of his coat to tether you to earth as his tongue invaded your mouth. You suckled it, previewing what you wanted to do with his cock later. 

He pulled away, his bright blue eyes blazing, and his jaw clenched so tight as he shrugged out of his winter coat. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was angry, but the look was desire. 

And only for you. You grew warm from the inside out.

“I can’t wait. Wanna make love to you, but I have to fuck you now.”

Bucky bent his knees and grabbed your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and hold on to him as he walked you over to your couch.

You attacked his face as you were sat down firmly on the bulge in his pants and Bucky accepted your assault, chuckling as you kissed him from his hairline, to his forehead, down his nose, each cheek, skipping over his lips to his stubbly dimpled chin and finally back to that mouth. When he kissed you again, his hands were everywhere, starting at the nape of your hair, pulling so your neck was exposed as his mouth moved down to mark you up, then trailing down to your fine lace bra cups.

Bucky palmed your full breasts, weighing them in his hands and watching your face as he twisted your nipples. You nipples tightened under his touch and you arched your back, moving and giving him a view of what was underneath your skirt. He admired your ardor, you squirming and moaning on his lap.

It was his dream come true.

“So fucking hot, Frumoasa. I’ve been craving you. All day. All week. Ever since Thanksgiving. Since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Bucky…need you.”

You grasped the lapels of his jacket as his hand traveled down your torso and as he leaned down to travel under the hem of your skirt. Your soft fingers peeled his jacket away and unbuttoned his shirt. You opened it and ran your hands down his chest, rubbing his nipples with your thumb and trailed your hand down to his happy trail and proceeded to try and undo his belt buckle.

Bucky grew hot at the warmth of your thick thighs and the way your cunt was so hot that he could feel it through his pants. 

He had to have it. 

Panting now and desperate, Bucky tugged your skirt up, flashing your bare pussy, but it was difficult to get rid of because it was still buttoned. It slipped out of his hands and he grunted in frustration.

“Ah, poor baby…” 

You leaned forward, brushing the locks of hair that had fallen into his flushed face, grazing your nipples across your chest with a sexy smile.  Bucky whimpered and you smirked at his desperation. You slowly reached behind you to your zipper, pushing your chest toward Bucky’s face. He licked his lips and pulled your bra cups down, causing your warm breasts to spill out and his hands to be drawn to them again like magnets as he watched you loosen your skirt.

When you grabbed the hem to bring it over your head, he released you, watching as the fabric moved above your crotch.

Your pussy. Fuck.

Bucky could never get enough of staring at it, the dark petals, which were spread open for him as you sat on his lap were calling his name. He licked his lips, suddenly parched.

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted, no needed, to hear Bucky’s voice right now. You reached behind you again as you unclasped your bra and suddenly you were naked on an essentially fully dressed Bucky Barnes.

It was sexy as hell. 

“I’m thinking that your pussy is a work of art, Frumoasă. It’s perfect. I’m thinking that I want to spend at least eight hours a day between your legs, make you cum over and over again, make you beg me to stop, and to start again. How I want you to taste you and make you squirt so I can swallow you down…”

You moaned and started grinding on his bulge, causing Bucky to curse.

“Damn, Baby. You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants like a teenager.”

Bucky grabbed your ass and reached between you to tease your clit, feeling how wet you were.

“Fuuuuuck, you’re so wet.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you to your knees on either side of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled them and his underwear just down past his ass to get his cock out. He grabbed your cheek as he stroked himself and rubbed his thick cock head in your juicy pussy.

“Fuck me Frumoasa. Slide down this dick for me.”

You brushed Bucky’s hair off his forehead again as you nodded and started to slide down his fat, hard cock. Your head lolled back on your neck as you reached the root of him.

“Oh… Bucky… Fuck….”

You could feel Bucky pounding inside you, long thick cock battering your cervix and you whined, leaning back and working your hips as Bucky fucked up into you and thumbed your clit while the other hand guided you up and down his dick. 

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shining as he looked up at you. You knew he was close and you couldn’t take it.

He started to speak and you knew it was over.

“Frumoasă. I-I’m gonna need you to… oh holy fuckkkkkk!”

His stutter made you start to cum.

As soon as your pussy started spasming around him, Bucky started shooting his spend all over your warm walls causing you to convulse and hug his head to your chest. He clutched you to him, whimpering as he held onto you for dear life as he came.

He collapsed backwards, taking you with him as you became boneless in his arms. You rolled off of him and curled up on the couch as Bucky stood and untangled himself from his clothes.

You closed your eyes for a minute as he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth to clean you up. When he finished, he kissed your forehead and gathered you up in his arms.

“You turn me on like no one else, Frumoasă. You’re it for me. I love you.”

You cuddled into him as he lay you in your bed.

“Me too, Bucky. You’re my one. I love you, too.”

Bucky kissed your forehead again, and then proceeded to move down your body.

“Good, now. I need to clock into my main occupation. Hour one of eight.…”

—-

If you like it, hit Reblog! ☺️

[inseobts]

Paths Diverged, Hearts United

Trafalgar Law x Strawhat Reader

A/N: it’s been years since I last wrote and posted something and it’s the first time I write about one piece so please be gentle with me lmao

Summary: after liberating Wano you get offered to join a new crew and you decide to follow your heart

Warning: none!

Masterlist

The celebrations of Wano’s liberation has finally calmed. The Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates, and the Kidd Pirates stood together at the edge of the Flower Capital, each crew preparing to part ways. The bonds forged during the war were strong, but now the time had come for each to follow their own path.

You stood near the Sunny, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The others are laughing, bickering, and preparing their ships, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the adventure that await you with the Straw Hats and the unspoken pull you feel toward Trafalgar Law.

“Y/N,” Kidd’s gruff voice cut through your thoughts. You turn to see the fiery redhead striding toward you, his usual smirk replaced with something softer. “You know, you’d make a hell of a lot more sense on my crew. We’d make a killer team.”

You chuckle, appreciating his attempt to sound casual. “Thanks, Kidd, but you know I’d drive you crazy.”

He snorts “You already do.”

His expression grew serious for a moment. “But if you change your mind, the offer stands. No strings, no pressure.”

You smile, giving him a playful shove. “Thanks, but I think the Sunny’s where I belong.”

As Kidd walks away, Law approaches from the Heart Pirates’ side. His usual stoic expression tinged with something unreadable, his golden eyes locking onto yours.

“Strawhat-ya,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re really staying with Luffy, huh?”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest “Yeah. I can’t imagine leaving them. They’re my family.”

Law nods, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “Good choice” he says, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

The night before the departure, you found Law standing alone by a small koi pond in the garden. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a silver glow over him.

You approach quietly, nerves fraying with every step.

“Law” you called softly.

He turns, his expression softening when he sees you. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

You shook your head, coming to stand beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread. Finally, you took a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to say before we leave” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

Law’s brow furrows, concern flickering across his face “What is it?”

You clench your fists, summoning the courage you need, “I’ve been holding this back for too long. I care about you, Law. More than I probably should, considering we’re on different crews. But I wanted you to know… I actually have feelings for you.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished. Law’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he was completely silent.

Then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “I’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length. But you—you’ve made it impossible to do that. I like - I love you too.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of restrained passion. The weight of both your unspoken feelings melted away as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

The next morning, the crews gather at the docks. Luffy is as loud as ever, already shouting about the next destination. Kidd’s crew is preparing to set sail, and Law’s crew is doing the same.

You stood with the Strawhats, you heart torn but resolute. You exchange one last glance with Law, a silent understanding passing between you.

As the Sunny pulls away from the harbor, you stood at the railing, watching the Polar Tang grow smaller in the distance. Law stood at his own ship’s deck, his hand brushing against the pocket where a small piece of your vivre card rested.

You are on different paths now, but your bond is unbreakable.

Weeks later, you found yourself staring at the horizon again, your fingers brushing against the matching piece of Law’s vivre card you kept tucked away.

“Thinking about him again?” Nami teases, coming to stand beside you.

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Nami says with a grin. “It’s about time someone tied you down, even if he’s not here.”

Luffy bounded over, laughing. “Don’t worry, Y/N! We’ll see him again! And when we do, you can make him blush all over again!”

You laugh, your heart light despite the ache of missing him. You know you’ll meet again—after all, your love is as constant as the sea itself.

[tapestryoftrauma]

give us your trans!grace thoughts pls i beg

WELL— how can I say no to that ???

But before I get into the transness and queer nature of Grace's gender, I gotta elaborate on the basics (we’re taking the long road here BUT TAKE MY HAND WE’LL GET THERE I PROMISE KSDHFJ)

It cannot be overstated that Grace’s gender as a teenage girl is quite inherent to her character, at least in how I interpret her. The way she was raised, her relationship with God and religion as a whole, her relationship to her family, her understanding of sex and sexuality, the way people (especially men, like Max or Kyle) treat her. It’s all tied back to the fact she's perceived as (and in canon identifies as) a teenage girl.

In fact, if we take the colour scheme of her general outfits (disregarding the green turtleneck sweater from Perky’s Buds, just for the ease of analysis here, but I have THOUGHTS about the turtleneck that tie more into Grace’s sexuality—) the major colours are pink and blue. Of course these colors have various meanings (including very trans meanings, WE’LL GET THERE) but let's start with basics. Pink and blue = girl and boy, as shown by the shirt division in AC. Push it further, her outfit in NPMD is baby pink and blue—which to me highlights her innocence, or expected innocence as that sexless, pure, deeply religious teenage girl everyone wants her to be.

But Grace is not that girl. She’s not the kind of girl that can sit and be quiet, because Grace Chasity is loud and abrasive and annoying to most who know her. She’s also not the kind of girl who can repress her sexual desires and wait until marriage. Grace isn’t soft and demure—she is quick to jump to rage, to violence, and she is desperate for the power that she’s been denied her whole life. Denied because she is a girl — a future wife, a future mother, a woman of church. Objectified and repressed and Grace clearly cannot stand being what her community deems to be a ‘girl.’

Okay now let's get into the trans shit BABYYY

(Disclaimer – I am trans, but my own experience does not encompass the trans experience as a whole nor am I willing to speak from any sort of authority beyond my own gender-fuckery. And for the sake of brevity, and because this is a tumblr post and already getting long, I’ll resist sourcing and quoting feminist and gender theory. For now)

I imagine, when approaching Grace from a trans or gender queer perspective, her own image of herself would be something like this. Grace is a girl because that’s what she’s always been—but maybe, if given the tools and the space and the time to think about it—she might come to conclusions. I think maybe Grace doesn’t necessarily identify heavily with either side of the specturm, but neither side is especially repulsive either. In a way, Grace is just Grace. I think at her healthiest someone would ask what her gender is and she’d say “Grace.”

Because she does enjoy wearing pretty dresses at church, and loves the pink in her wardrobe, and even adores the clips that her mom puts in her hair. But, I also think that’s not all Grace enjoys. (Heavily going off my fics here, I have a fic where Grace begins to dabble in drag) Maybe Grace likes drawing a fake beard on her face—because does she love Jesus or does she envy Jesus in a gender way? Maybe dressing up as Jesus is euphoric and enlightening and allows her to tough on masculinity in a way she never has before.

And pronouns ? Let’s talk about pronouns. I’ve joked before about Grace’s introduction to the concept of neopronouns by a joke the nerds make about “He/Him” pronouns for god being neopronouns. And I think Grace would really fuck with the idea of neoprounouns—of just getting to choose. To make a choice is to have power, and oh does Grace crave power—especially about her own body, about her identity, about who she is. I could honestly see Grace using any combination of pronouns. Any, neo, a mix, hell maybe she just goes by Grace and GOOD FOR HER !!

I also promised colour theory in the trans way – so lets touch on that. You cannot show me a character who is constantly dressed in a light pink and a light blue in ALL her outfits (except one, shhhh) and not expect me to point at her and nod my head going “yes trans.” Like COME ON? Purposeful? Highly unlikely, BUT… The colours in the trans flag DO come from the gender assigned to those two colours—and I don’t think it's unlikely that the colour scheme was picked for that reason instead.

ANYWAYYY. Those have been some of my thoughts on Trans!Grace Chasity that I have touched on a little in a fic (you can find that here if you’re interested but no pressure) and I really plan on touching on it again at some time. Thank you for the ask anon !!!

[kazuhahalol]

▹ Jeff the Killer Headcanons

Basic NSFW & SFW headcanons of my favorite creep! I’m so sorry I’ve been out for so long, I’ll try to post more!

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, nsfw content

Disclaimer: Everyone is welcome on my page and I will not turn you away. However, it is your fault if you’re uncomfortable or peeved with my writing because I give multiple warnings prior to my content. thanks!

Appearance

⇀ I will not lie and say I grew up seeing Jeff as an accurate representation of what a burn victim would look like. I grew up with the skinny anime looking boy that most of us know as “Jeff the Killer”. Here are a few ways that I see Jeff different than how I used to see him when I was younger.

⇀ I honestly see him standing at around 5’7-5’9. I don’t expect him to be super tall like LJ, but not super short like BEN.

⇀ His skin is less of a white pigment and more pink since his skin has been burnt off and exposed. His skin has healed over time, making it look more like shitty patchwork over what a good recovery should look like.

⇀ I doubt he’d have hair but for the sake of fan service, if he did, it would probably be greasy. If he’s not living at the Wisconsin Sanctum for Wayward Boys (slendermansion) he’s not able to shower so he’d look dirty. No shower = no washing hair = greasy hair, scalp buildup and hair loss. In reality, Jeff would looked chopped AF.

⇀ His style hasn’t changed much from when he was 13. White hoodie and his black dress pants. He wears what’s practical and what he can get his hands on. If he did take the time to actually find clothing he approves of, I’d see him mostly being into something edgy.

⇀ Would have piercings but it would hurt like a bitch because his skin and tissues didn’t heal normally. He doesn’t mind because he likes the pain.

⇀ His glasgow smile heals overtime and he doesn’t mind it, but will occasionally carve it back open if he feels like it since it’s his signature look.

Personality

⇀ Edgelord.

⇀ People may say this is overdone, but I also see him as an arrogant asshole. There’s just something about him that screams, “I have a big ego and I’m going to make it everyone’s problem”.

⇀ Gets really pissed off when you call him his government or first name, “Jeffrey”, “Jeffrey Alan Woods”. He would tell you to shut the fuck up and to never say it again.

⇀ His sense of humor is twisted AF. He could be chatting with you and he’s suddenly bringing up how he tortured this poor school girl he kidnapped a few days ago and how much she was screaming, then laughs about it obnoxiously. The topic of the conversation was strawberries.

⇀ Doesn’t matter if it’s a person, place, or thing, Jeff is going to be obsessed with it if it catches his attention because he can’t like something like a normal person. One night he had ran into a girl that had managed to escape him, so he decided to stalk her to entertain himself, and now she’s all you hear about. “I can’t wait to sink my blade into her throat”, “I can’t wait to kill that fucking bitch. She kicked me in the balls”.

⇀ Has street smarts but is really dumb academically because he went crazy during 7th grade. He also mainly works off of impulse and never thinks before he speaks. All bite and bark.

⇀ Has a big ego. He’s obsessed with his own appearance and it’s hard for him to find anyone he deems attractive because his ideal type is basically himself.

⇀ Being completely serious, his type would be someone feisty and strong. Someone who can put up with his shit. He doesn’t like timid people or pushovers. He likes it even more if they can come up with run-on insults on the fly. He might save one of those for later.

⇀ Thick thighs, boobs > ass

Relationships

⇀ He’s toxic as hell and don’t even think for a second he’s not.

⇀ Gaslighter and manipulator.

⇀ Would never outright say that he “loves you”. His love language is acts of service, so he’d do small things for you like pick up something from one of his kills that reminded him of you and leave it at your door. He’d never willingly show the affection he has for you.

⇀ While we’re on that topic, he can be quite…different when it comes to romantic gestures. Gift giving was one thing, but he might even go the extra mile by carving your name into his own skin or random objects.

⇀ If you’re one of the creeps, he’d most likely loathe you at first but become attracted to your power. If you’re a normal person, he might’ve found interest for you while he was out on one of his kills and stalked you enough to feel something for you.

⇀ He is extremely obsessive and protective, often “marking you” so none of the other creeps lay a hand on you if you’re also a proxy living in the mansion. If you’re a normal person, he’s often stalking you. If he witnesses you getting bullied or harassed, the attacker ends up dead later that night.

⇀ Gets very jealous very easily. Be careful with him because it can get really ugly.

⇀ Platonic or romantic, everyone has to be careful around him. Jeff can go from being chill to being hotheaded in only a few seconds. Arguments often happen because of his low patience, leading to wavering trust and security in the relationship.

NSFW Beyond this point

⇀ Doesn’t usually call you pet names, but when he does it’s usually “Babe”, “Doll”, “Sweet Cheeks”, “My Girl”, “My Bitch”. (Girls, if your man is calling you “his bitch”, leave him immediately!!!)

⇀ Very rough in bed. He doesn’t hold back when it comes to marking you, leaving any spot untouched bruised and covered with hickeys.

⇀ His kinks are rather…questionable. You guessed he’d be into bondage, choking, and role play, but you weren’t expecting him to hold a gun or knife to your head or throat mid blowjob. He thrives on seeing your scared and confused expression while you suck him off.

⇀ Doesn’t care for aftercare. He cleans you up with a towel then slumps for the rest of the night. He could blow your back out, have you screaming all night then leave you shivering on the side of the bed with no blanket, snoring obnoxiously.

⇀ Before he met you, he would usually find one lucky girl whenever he’s in the mood to fuck. He wouldn’t force her, obviously. He’s a killer, not a monster. He would then leave without another trace, not caring enough to go back to her. It depends whether or not he’s in a good mood if he’ll kill her right after or spare her. He’s probably gotten someone pregnant and is unknowingly a deadbeat dad.

⇀ Six inches is all I’m going to say.

[lambmotifz]

hey! been following for a while, and I gotta say I love your takes and how vocal you are about, like, canon wincest, and reading the early seasons, and the gothic horror of it all. It might not be a popular stance to the wider fandom, but it's /correct/ and I love it. never change. that said, can you think of any fanfic recs that lean into that [canon] characterization, rather than the more widely accepted fanon? - <3

hey, i’m very happy to hear that you enjoy my posts ♡

i’ve recced these fics several times before but i come back to them monthly because they’re absolutely gorgeous and are closest to canon (and honestly it’s not like there’s much to rec anyway because most wincest fics are based purely on fanon)

feel about the same most every day [orphaned] (sam doesn’t know that dean wants to touch him…)

memory restricted to child’s play by @winpocalypse (dean would rather have sam broken, alive and alone than to be alone himself.)

loving lie by CleverUsernameHere (before dean’s time is up, sam gives him what he always wanted. it’s not what sam wants, but dean doesn’t have to know that.)

three days on the rack by keerawa, reena_jenkins (it’s been months, but sam finally found a crossroads demon willing to deal to get dean’s soul out of hell. the deal sounded too good to be true. sam took it anyway.)

i feel it way down (way down) by formalizing (dean eventually gets out of hell, but angels have nothing to do with it. sam is willing to make a lot of exceptions to his morals and principles in order to have his brother back.)

bleed my own by valleyofmidnight (blessed are those whose physical being matches their internal rot, for they will be made sacrifice. they will be lifted to the heavens, their blood kerosene for living fire. you believe it. or, you enjoy the thought of being lifted, of being burned.)

the consequence at hand by tradwifesam (nothing was ever supposed to get at her blood, nothing was ever meant to come between them that way. or, dean visits sam during detox.)

a stain that never comes off series by @winpocalypse (dean fucked him like he wanted to fill him up so much the trash inside just leaked through his pores. like he was righting all the wrongs. the thing is, sam is wrong to his very foundation. far deep in his cells, molecules, down to his atoms. he cannot be fixed. what he can do is look for redemption)

consequentialism and deontology series by Dyed_Red (sam has demons in his blood, angels in his bones, his all too human brother in his guts. how many pieces of him are there left to claim?)

to hell and back by unhappy_ghost (the mark is changing dean. it’s turning him into something he’s not. that’s what sam tells himself.)

we got that fire, fire, fire (and we gonna let it burn) by Trojie (hell marked them both, and now they mark each other. dean winchester is well-schooled enough in sick irony to know that it’s almost funny, that to help sam get over his tour in hell, dean has to relive his own.)

[bigheartsmallworld]

i’ve been looking for a post like this, but i can’t seem to find one..so fine i’ll just do it myself..

here’s my fav squid game men headcannons but make it freaky ☺️. also songs that make me think of them/i listened to while writing these

(Gi-hun, In-ho, Thanos and a little nam-gyu, and just a bit of the recruiter..hehe)

(Warning: includes a little cnc…not alot but still just in case! also smut..obviously?)

kinda obvious but just so you know..this post is 18+.. and very freaky

Seong Gi-hun~

Spork postition, or doggy style

shoulder holder..hell yeah

doggy- one hand on the small of your back, the other by your head

praise kink, receiving and giving

hair pulling+getting his hair pulled

6.5 inches

lowkey a whimper kinda guy..

aftercare king!!

whispering NASTY stuff in your ear

but also stuttering ^

“y-you like that? yeah?”

i said it once and i’ll say it again.. SEONG GI-HUN IS A SOFT DOM DADDY

slow and tender

laying overtop you while fingering you, eye contact entire time

Your laying on your stomach, supporting your weight on your elbows. Gi-hun, bent over you, has one hand under your chest, groping you. His other hand, stimulating your clit as he thrusts, grunting and muttering filth into your ear, as your fingers helplessly grip at the sheets beneath you.

Issues by Julia Michaels..

(his is kinda lame cause i already posted one of these that was just for him..)

~In-ho

Tabletop, shower, and missionary…yeah

Degrading

spanking

light bdsm, restraing your wrists above your head kinda guy

dacryphilliac..might be controversial..who knows

wants to make you whimper, sob, and beg

STICKY..that’s all.

let’s just say, the room is very humid with him 🥰

kinda aggressive

he would definitely put his hand over your mouth during missionary

would overstim you severely

dominant king..what about it?

7 inches

he needs you to be verbal

He loved to use your body, while you're sleeping, while you're awake, while you were calling someone, whenever he felt like it. He ESPECIALLY LOVED the last one. Whenever your phone would ring during sex he would answer it, ESPECIALLY if it was a guy... What was another guy doing calling you for anyways?! 

He would make you call out his name in your desperate and needy voice so whoever heard on the other line knew how much you liked his cock. He'd chase his own pleasure first. Then MAYBE if you were good will he get you off. 

He does in fact want to watch you go crazy, like he wants to ruin your life and be the one to put it back together

male manipulator

Karma by Chappell Roan

~Thanos

Doggy style king

also shoulder holder 😚

adventurer position, eagle, and watering can

he’s a big valedictorian position kinda guy

you might need a mop after a night with him..i’m ngl

he’s rough..

whiney boy with an attitude

the rings stay on while he fingers you no questions asked

says things like “you fucking like that?” when eating you out 🥰

2man with him and nam-gyu hehe

forces your legs open

oral king (giving but mostly receiving)

Like your gonna need to SLOB on that KNOB

fast pace, won’t slow down so don’t ask

pulls your hair, slaps you

he could go for about 3 rounds

“showering? without me?”

He don’t make love, he FUCKS

sober sex isn’t even a thing to him…sorry

6 inches

idk why but he reminds me of douche from sausage party…ifkyk i guess

^in all the ways

you’d fuck like atleast once a week

yeah he hates condoms/pulling out

sometimes he’ll bring nam-gyu along, watching as he fucks your brains out, humiliating you in front of thanos, making you feel ashamed for enjoying another man’s cock..before he eventually takes over

nam-gyu holding your arms above your head, kissing you while thanos fucks you~

Thanos chokes you. He wraps his big hand around your throat while fucking, looking you in your eyes as he grunts.

Your laying on your back, tugging on Thanos’ hair, as his face is nested deep between your legs. Your legs tense, all your strength flowing to your feet, and you writhe beneath him, his chin dripping from your previous climax . “you like that, don’t you? you like when i suck on you, over and over.” he mutters, sloppily, his breathy words bringing you closer to the edge.

Why’d you only ever call me when your high? by Arctic Monkeys

HE IS SO PTPOM 2.0

The recruiter~ (CNC WARNING)

bent over the table, no other way

grunts in your ear

Gun kink.

like..he’d hold a gun to your head while you suck it..idk

Or he’d put it in your mouth or smth

also a dacryphilliac

gets off to seeing you scared and sobbing

a hitachi wand is his best friend.

would gag you and tie you up

like he loves BDSM

don’t even ask him to stop once you’ve started, because he won’t , so there’s no point hehe

massive cnc guy..hehe

massive sadist..like even more than in-ho

he would spit in your mouth and make you swallow it

he’s a ‘nut on your face’ kinda guy

bruises you and draws blood occasionally

he’s a very loud guy..

wants to watch you touch yourself

wrestling position, counter blow, cobra ❤️

Do i wanna know by Arctic Monkeys

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

what the hell are you talking about? the difference between me and you is that i don’t put words in other people’s mouths, and i actually counter arguments when necessary. you came onto my post and offered nothing of merit, just simple double standards and hypocrisy.

your argument is moot, you gross toad, because the only character i’ve ever drawn is jon snow. and please learn the meaning of a word before you use it, because my main argument is not moot LOL

also, i see you’ve tried correcting yourself with the little “14-15.” you can’t even admit your mistakes. pathetic, but i’m not surprised.

you’ve got issues, just like your gross friend.

I think the way some portions of the fandom treat arranged marriage is very interesting because I have such a differing view on the topic that makes it impossible for me to find a middle ground with a good deal of people.

I understand that some people see arranged marriages in asoiaf as an equivalent to modern marriages, but, in my opinion, that’s a false equivalence.

Truthfully, I believe there’s a genuine double standard and a severely hypocritical attitude about the topic as well. I know for certain that people wouldn’t care if one or both parties of certain cases of arranged marriages “cheat,” and perhaps they would even cheer the characters on, but when it comes to x or y character this suddenly becomes the most grievous of sins. I realize that this is a bit of a blanket statement to make, so I want to clarify that I know the topic is more nuanced than what I’ve made it seem like. However, I believe that at the core of this stance lies a deeply rooted hypocrisy and double standard.

What am I talking about? Well I’m talking about some portions of the fandoms views on Rhaegar and Lyanna’s potential love story. Tbh this seems like the only thing I ever post about nowadays 🤦‍♀️

Anyways, if you specifically take issue with the “cheating” portion of Rhaelya’s relationship, then do you apply the same standards to all the other “cheaters”? No matter what? No matter who? No matter how that marriage was forced upon x or y character?

As for me, I only consider there to have been cheating in an arranged marriage if the characters were in love. Because at that point, the arranged marriage becomes an actual equivalent to a modern marriage.

Nedcat? If they had other partners then I’d call it cheating.

Doran and Mellario? If they had other partners while still together then I’d consider that to be cheating.

Dany and Hizdahr? That’s like the definition of a political marriage so no Dany is not cheating when she’s with Daario.

Cersei and Robert? Nope. Not cheating. I’m glad they both had other partners.

Rhaegar getting with Lyanna while married to Elia? Since I always attempt to be consistent, I’ll have to say I don’t consider that to be cheating :)

I think there are a few genuine grievances to have, and I do understand if you’re uncomfortable with the likely canon pairing, but these headcanons and fanonland shit takes are getting out of control. Y’all gotta stop acting like your personal interpretations of the text are actual canon. Please. Stop. Get some help. The whole ‘you can’t argue with me because somehow my interpretation is superior’ nonsense and the ‘this is the one true truth’ makes any discussion on the topic stale.

I and many other people (i don’t actually know if other people share this grievance with me but i’d bet a penny that at least one person does) are tired of having to constantly repeat that we do not know what went down before and during the rebellion. We do not know what situations the characters of that time period were in, and we do not know why they chose to do what they did.

Just now when I was scrolling on reddit I was reminded that we don’t even know what Robert’s true thoughts were about the murders of Elia and her children. Like bruh look how little we know. So stop it with the ‘this character did this because of this I just know and you must go along with my bs’

That was a word vomit, but yeahhh 👍

[posting-for-the-void]

seriously, stop demonizing female characters just because they “come between” your fav gay ship

as someone who’s not really a fan of the marvel cinematic universe canon (i like the concept of marvel—i just think they’ve made some shit story choices) and therefore is okay with honestly most ships that come from the mcu, i will never not be mystified with how a stucky shipper i once interacted with confidently told me that stucky is a better ship because steggy is problematic.

this is fine, whatever, because at first i agree. making steggy canon in endgame was problematic, because it was a total misinterpretation of steve’s character, and literally erased peggy’s life with daniel that she built on her own and the healing she had done.

but that’s not what this shipper thought was problematic about steggy. oh no.

“Actually, Peggy’s a Nazi and that’s why you shouldn’t ship them.”

UM????

what on GOD’S GREEN EARTH drew you to that conclusion??????

the only thing i can think of is maybe they read a fanfic with villain!peggy and just forgot that it wasn’t canon cause this literally just has nothing to support it in the actual canon 😭

[javierduffy]

? i’m sorry ???

[chirpsythismorning]

We never really left

[fionacle]

had a dumb idea earlier and couldn’t get it out of my head