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penny00dreadful · 2 years ago

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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

AO3 link for those asking! 🖤

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.”

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered.

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.”

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it.

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

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rezitio · 11 months ago

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━━━━━━ . .⃗ . Twitter LINKS . . satoru gojo. nsfw

a/n: this one's been here a while

warning: a whole lot man.

characters: Gojo Satoru.

━━━━━ Before gojo left for a mission four days ago. He selfishly denied you orgasm multiple times. He came home exhausted but you still want the orgasm you deserved. Gojo is too exhausted to tease you so just lets you ride him till you're satisfied.

Gojo is on a mission right now so you thought it would be funny to send him videos.

Sent an attachment

Nothing too crazy, you even forgot about it. But that was your first and last after what he did to you

Gojo is a brat. If he wants something he's going to get it. It doesn't matter if you just woke up. His hands holding onto your waist to stabilise you, while pounding into you. You know he's the strongest but sometimes you wonder where he gets his stamina from

alternative

Gojo loves when you wear skirts around the house but you don't do it very although you tell him you love wearing skirts. This makes Satoru confused but he remembers why you don't wear skirts around him much. He loses control seeing those exposed thighs and the way the skirt syncs with the movement of your ass. Gosh, here we go again

Something you need to know when intimate with Satoru is that you are never really in control. Sure, sometimes he allows you to take the lead and be the dominant one because the masochist is feeling submissive today. But you need to remember that he can flip the tables anytime, happens when he felt you were a little too cocky. He's a brat himself but he's also a brat tamer.

"Don't tell me you thought you could fuck yourself with my permission and get away with it." He keeps fingering you despite your pleas for forgiveness and tugging his hand away. But you know this is only the beginning

Netflix and chill can never just be 'chill' with Gojo. He always wants to wander around your body. He can't sit still.

Gojo caught you playing with yourself without permission so he continued for you. "You wanted to feel good with your fingers right? Come on open, I'm just helping you." He mocks you as he abuses your stimulated clit

You know how hard he works, that why you tried to please him by giving him a blow job. Your first blow job, all for him? And you made he so sensitive too. He needed to repay you, eventually getting high on your pussy. headcanon

Imagine Gojo feels after his junior, taunts him flaunting her ass around campus when he's around. Always intentionally teasing him. You were just leaving the library when the strongest came to 'help you study'

"Please... at least let me finish the food- ngh~" Gojo never listens. "Please baby, I need you right now. He whispers into your ear as he's pounding harshly into you

Well, what did you expect? Walking into Gojo's temple in that. Praying to your God with your ass up, tight and short skirt barely containing all that ass. You got your prayer, if it's a kid you need it's a kid you shall get.

Sucking your boyfriend off while he plays his games. You don't need his full attention to give him a blowjob

Finished : 4/05/24

#gojo links #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk links #jjk twitter #twitter links #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #꒰꒰ : REZITIOWORKS

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months ago

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Taken

Wolf!Natasha x Reader

Based on idea by @supercorpdanbeau

Your wolf hybrid girlfriend clutched your favorite sweater in her claws just waiting for you to come back from your reconnaissance mission. It was just supposed to be a simple observe and report.

She needed you to come back to her. Her eyes scanned the horizon on the hill overlooking the targeted Red Room facility, just hoping that she’d see you coming back to her.

“Natasha,” Yelena came running up to her sister, “they got (Y/N)”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. The hair on her wolf ears and tail raised. “Which way?” Natasha asked, determined and yet scared at the same time.

Yelena reaches into her knapsack and pulls out two AK-47s, handing one to her sister, “we’re gonna get your detka back”

Natasha looked at your favorite sweater. She held it close to her nose and inhaled the deeply seated scent that was your musk. The redheaded wolf girl then raised her head and locked onto you.

You were being held captive in the deepest part of the Red Room facility. Tied to a chair with zip ties.

Dreykov, the mastermind behind the Red Room and all of its activities against hybrids slammed his fist across your face.

“You know who I am, yes?” He asked in a thick Russian accent.

“A guy who might need of a shower?” You retort, earning you another slam of his fist. “Sorry I misspoke, you definitely need a shower, dude.”

He raised his fist to slam it into your nose but he was interrupted by the sound of alarms going off.

“What is that?” He asked as his guards went to investigate.

“An alarm, dumbass,” you look at him coldly, “and right now I got the best backup coming to get me. Just pray she’s in a good mood”

She was not.

The thing about wolf hybrids is that as they get angrier, they tend to actually become more wolflike. So for Natasha, she looked like a full on redheaded werewolf.

Natasha ran on all fours, her nails sharpening and growing into full on claws. She jumped up the chain link fence the entire red room facility in a single leap

“Contact!” A guard shouted only for his shouts to be cut short by Natasha’s claws. Several guards tried shooting at her but she leapt, scurried, and dodged every bullet. Natasha made quick work of them all.

Yelena came in behind Natasha and could only be witness to the carnage.

Natasha charged angrily through the hallways, running on the walls, slashing throats, anything to get to you. She didn’t care all the matter to her was you.

Two guards tried charging at Natasha. She gutted both and threw them through windows with ease.

Dreykov was pretty scared as the sounds of gunfire and screams echoed down the hall

“Untie me” you say, “and I just might get her to spare you”

Then came the wolf howl. She was close. Dreykov tried to pull out his revolver but it was stuck in its holster.

The door sprung open and Natasha threw a knife, impaling Dreykov’s hand into a nearby wall.

She looked around the room, Natasha was on pure animal instinct now. She saw you and your bruised face.

Her clawed feet echoed as she stomped towards the sniveling man that had been her tormentor all those years ago.

“I made you! I made the weapon you are today!” He tried to say as if that would somehow spare his life.

Natasha drove her claws right into his stomach, “no more” she growled.

And with a simple swipe to the side, Dreykov collapsed to the ground dead.

The werewolf before you marched over to you. In truth some small part of you feared this form of hers. It was pure animal. But you knew your girl.

“Hi honey wolf” you offered her a small smile.

The giant wolf knelt before you and sliced the zip tie restraints. She began nuzzling you, little sad whines escaping her muzzle.

“Oh baby” you pulled the werewolf close, kissing her muzzle and stroking her back affectionately, “it’s okay. I’m safe. You saved me”

Your werewolf slowly transformed back into her standard wolf-human girl form. Natasha began crying, she wrapped her arms around you.

“I thought I lost you” she said through her tears, grabbing your face and kissing you over and over, like you were her very reason to breathe.

I hold her close, rubbing reassuring circles into her back. “You didn’t lose me, baby. I’m safe. And that’s because of you”

The two of you nuzzle as Yelena runs into the room on all fours.

“Remind me to never piss you off” yelena retorts as she glances over the disemboweled remains of Dreykov.

Your honey wolf would go thru hell and back to find you. As you would do the same.

You, Natasha and Yelena made your way back to the sanctuary. For the next few weeks, Natasha did not let you out of her sight. She kept you cuddled with her on her cozy little couch in her wolf den. She almost lost you once, your wolf girl was going to ensure it never happened again.

The three of you would rescue many hybrids over the years and legends would be told someday of the wolf girl and her human mate whose love was strong enough to take down the Red Room and all its hatred.

You and Natasha had a love that strong.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @ma1egamer @julieromanoff @iiconicsfan25 @iamnicodemus @revanshand @russianredassassin @deafeningsharkslimeempath @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @texaswolf23

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #wolf Natasha #wolf girl #wolf girl gf #scarlett johansson

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love-belle · 1 year ago

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light as a feather !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she writes a song and finds love again while he finds himself facing the consequences of his actions.

for when the right person is right around the corner. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!ex!reader // charles leclerc x fem!reader (implied)

sequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language, mention of cock once, sex jokes (???)

author's note - might make a part 2 idkk but i hope u like this <3 thank u sm for reading!!!! alsoooo im gonna start a taglist so if ur interested PLEASE let me know <3

taglist - @marsdreamworld @1nt3rnetgf

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by y/nupdates, f1paddockgossip, y/nsteponme and 79,628 others

popnews y/n y/l/n and lando norris called it quits after almost a year of being together. this news came after y/l/n flew out to see him during the dutch grand prix and left the very next day, not attending the race. "it was very sudden, neither of them saw it coming," sources close to the pair commented. "they were together for a year and it was getting very real and that scared lando. he just felt like the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere." this proved to be kind of confusing and controversial as not even a week after their break up, norris was spotted with a girl out on a "date". for more details, visit the link in our bio.

2,528 comments

username say sike rn

username WHAT THE FUCK.

username "the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere" brother what do u MEAN it wasn't going anywhere and what do u MEAN he went on a date

username nah this is insane wtf

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-> username like brother those are the things u realise after the first few dates not a YEAR wtf

username i feel so bad for y/n like i know my girl gave it her all

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username don't come at me but this is charles' time to shine

-> username nah bc that boy has been harbouring the BIGGEST crush on her for years

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username no bc if this turns out that he cheated on her i will RIOT

username praying for lando bc y/n is everyone's fav on grid

-> username man's definitely tasting gravel the next race

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,772,415 others

yourusername feather out everywhere lol have fun with this one <3

tagged landonorris

28,628 comments

username TOO MUCH GOING ON I NEED TO SCREAM

username THE TAG THE SONG THE LYRICS OG MY GOF

username i am afraid lando is crying as we speak rn

charles_leclerc so good 😘

-> yourusername thank u charles 🫶🏼

-> username i just KNOW his everlasting crush came back with a VENGEANCE

username bet charles is just gonna slide up now that lando fumbled

username LMFAOAOAO SIS REALLY CAME FOR HIS NECK LIKE THAT

username she gagged him with this

username ur signals are MIXED u act like a BITCH u fit EVERY stereotype send a PIC

-> username iconic

lilymhe enjoyed every second of it 🔥🔥🔥

-> yourusername i love u <3

username i just KNOW that the drivers gc is WILD rn

-> username i would everything to be in there atm

maxfewtrell oh the silence from his room is LOUD

-> yourusername LMFAOAOAO

username men really don't know how to handle a bad bitch

-> username fr like 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

taylorswift so proud 🤧🩷

-> yourusername i love u mom

username the silence is LOUD

username nah bro fumbled HARD

username NAHHH NOT THE TAG OH MY GOD

username i absolutely LOVE this song but im not gonna lie i miss lando and y/n SO bad like i wanted what they had 💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username no bc i need to go back to their in love era

username lando norris is having a breakdown over this as we talk

carlossainz55 on repeat 😍

*liked by yourusername*

username someone PLEASE hand the mic to lando i need to hear what he has to say about this

username never make a singer mad at u bc they WILL write a song about u

*liked by yourusername*

alex_albon absolutely iconic

-> yourusername thank u lily's bf 🪿

username no bc i was expecting more of a heartbreak song but THIS??????

username cleared him

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username mother ate

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luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl cool song 💌

-> yourusername angel ❤️‍🩹

-> username OH MY GOD

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-> username PLEASE the duo i didn't know i needed

-> username lando is somewhere pulling at his hair

-> username love it when people (y/n and luisinha) unite to destroy their common enemy (lando)

≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱

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liked by lilymhe, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,628,825 others

yourusername floatin through the memories like wtv (photo creds to charles_leclerc who annoyed me until i agreed to post these)

15,527 comments

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landonorris talking shit ain't gonna do a thing

11,628 comments

username says YOU

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username no words

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-> username damn he even used proper punctuation and all

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-> username y'all my girl did no wrong he had this coming for cheating

charles_leclerc lol

-> username out of everything everyone has commented this is by far the most scariest one

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-> username PLEASEEE ALEX

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username m*n need to go back to war fr

maxverstappen1 cannot wait to see you on track this week.

-> username i have a feeling lando's gonna kiss the barriers this sunday 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

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username LOVE to see the grid calling him out

-> username fr like gag him

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-> username no bc if i got called out by THE lewis hamilton i will just never show my face ever again

-> username right like how is he not embarrassed

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-> username NOT LILY CONFIRMING THAT

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-> username just a very good example as to why u should NEVER EVER EVER EVER cheat on ANYONE bc u will end up like lando on the internet

username y/n bout to swing back on him i can feel it

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liked by luisinhaoliveira99, carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 2,262,826

yourusername i hit ignore

17,528 comments

username PLEASE

username she's too iconic i fear

username I LOVE HER SHE'S SO UNSERIOUS

username no bc u know shit is real when seb is here

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-> username the most iconic pair EVER

*liked by luisinhaoliveira99 and yourusername*

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-> yourusername i know

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username her using her own lyrics like mother 🙏🙏🙏

username i would get on my knees for y/n and y/n only

username serves cunt again and again

charles_leclerc smash that ignore button and while you're at it, i sent you flowers 🥰

-> yourusername omg they're so prettyyy i love them ☹️❤️

-> username PEOPLE WE'VE UPGRADED TO RED HEART

-> username white heart to red heart we love to see it

username no bc what i don't get is how he's gonna break up with her after a YEAR of being together bc lil bitch boy got scared of commitment and then turn around and allegedly cheat on her and then say u talking shit like NO SHUT THE FUCK UP we got a banger song and an iconic duo with the bad bitches u fumbled and i get a chance to see charles FINALLY make a move on his godforsaken crush

-> yourusername that was so intense and im trying to process it all but U GO BABY I LOVE UUUUU

-> luisinhaoliveira99 spoke facts

username love the comments are just charles and y/n, luisinha and y/n and anti l*ndo ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username im sooo here for this let's fucking go

alex_albon i would've been best friends with baby-you ngl

-> yourusername we're literally best friends what the fuck r u about

-> alex_albon no you're just an unfortunate addition to my life because my gf loves you

-> yourusername yeah she loves me MORE than u so go cry abt it

-> lilymhe true 🫶🏼

-> alex_albon wow

username the day charles and y/n (IT WILL HAPPEN) get together will be the day i can finally rest in peace

username the silence from l*ndo's side is DEAFENING

3K notes · View notes

cursedwoman1859 · 2 years ago

Text

Arm Candy (Silco/F!Reader)

“I need someone who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.” Silco needs a plus-one for a fancy topsider party. You don't really have a choice but to agree.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 5.8k

Content: Resolved sexual tension; semi-public sex; vaginal fingering; dirty talk; dubious business ethics

---

It wasn’t often you got called into Silco’s office first thing in the morning. You were a paper-pusher, not one of the battle-hardened henchmen who usually hung around the Last Drop, and your work mostly kept you at your desk. Calculations came as naturally to you as breathing, and you could crunch numbers faster even than Silco himself. In the few months you’d been working for the Eye of Zaun, you’d made yourself indispensable. You helped keep track of the Shimmer shipments going to and from Zaun, you effortlessly slipped the profits from the drugs business into the earnings from the various factories and bars and properties that Silco owned, and once a week you’d spend the evening alone in the office with your stern, exacting boss while you went over that week’s financial reports. Silco needed someone to cook his books, and you prided yourself on being the best damn chef in the undercity. You kept to yourself, you prayed he never noticed your furtive glances up at him when he was absorbed in his work, and you did not cause trouble.

So it was only natural that your stomach twisted itself into knots as you stepped into his office, and that those knots tightened when he looked up from the paper he was reading, his bicoloured stare pinning you and making your walk to stand in front of his desk feel like miles instead of metres.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said when you were near, and the way his eyes flicked over you, almost too quickly for you to notice, did nothing to calm you.

“I did,” he said, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it. You’d definitely never wondered if it could hold two people. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You could swear that sentence made your brain fritz like a faulty wire. “I, um—” Absolutely nothing was the real answer, but for some reason you didn’t want to admit that. “I made plans with…Ran and Dustin,” you said, saying the first names that came to your mind even though you’d never shared more than small talk with either of them.

Silco’s eyebrow raised as if he could see right through your lie. Which he probably could, because it was completely transparent. “Then cancel them. I need your help at an event.”

“What kind of…event?” you said, your mind reeling with all the things Silco could be alluding to. Shakedowns, back-alley deals, assassinations…

“Don’t look so frightened,” Silco said, taking a cigar from his ashtray and lighting it. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke billow around him as he spoke. “Are you familiar with Ko Shosu?”

It took you a moment to remember the name from some of the background research you’d carried out on Silco’s competitors. “Doesn’t he own that factory that makes gears or something?”

“The very same. He’s hosting a party at his residence topside tomorrow night and unfortunately, I’ll need to make an appearance. Shosu seems to think we’re acquaintances. And on top of that, I happen to know that one of his associates has run into some financial trouble as of late. His factory makes components that are essential to the Shimmer-tanks we’re developing. Now isn’t that a stroke of luck?”

“You want to get to this associate so you can get him to work with you?”

“Exactly. His name is Rupert Torek and he’s run up gambling debts with some very unsavoury people. I’m sure he’ll be cooperative once he realises I can lend him enough money to get himself out of debt before his wife finds out.”

You decided not to ask how Silco could have information like that on someone he’d never even met. For your sanity’s sake, it was better not to know. “And why do you need me, sir?”

It might have just been your imagination, but you could swear Silco looked you up and down again. Slower this time. “I thought that would be obvious. I cannot exactly show up to something like this alone. I need someone who can distract Torek’s wife so I can get five minutes alone with him, and who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.”

“I, um—” you floundered for a minute – the words look pretty on my arm setting your heart racing, which was stupid, he’d literally just said he wanted you to be his arm candy for a night, it meant nothing – and Silco raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“You’ll be paid overtime for your trouble, of course,” he said.

“That wasn’t—thank you, sir,” you said quickly.

“Good,” he said, flicking through some of the papers on his desk, his focus already slipping back to his work. “Meet me outside Ko Shosu’s house at eight sharp. Wear something nice and do not be late.”

It was a struggle to focus on your work for the next two days. The figures that usually came so easily to you seemed to blur together until you had to triple-check your spreadsheets in case you’d made an error while your mind insisted on screeching Silco think’s I’m pretty over and over like a stuck record. You were sure he’d meant nothing by that offhanded comment, but that didn’t help anything.

It was almost a relief when the next evening rolled around just so you could focus on doing something.

But that relief didn’t last long when you realised you didn’t have the first clue what you should wear to a party at a topsider’s fancy estate. There wasn’t time to hit up the markets even if you could justify the expense, so you settled for a black dress that was simple, but showed off your figure without showing too much of anything else, as you could at least guess that anything shorter than the knee-length hem of your dress might not go over well among the stiff, buttoned-up topsiders. You’d had the dress a long time and had to stitch it once or twice, but surely nobody would notice a little thing like that.

You felt strangely buoyant as you made your way through the upper districts of Zaun, where at this time in the evening business was just starting to pick up. Lines were forming outside the nicer clubs, the street hawkers were packing up to make way for the crowds, and the air nearly sparkled with Shimmer residue as you passed the open doors of some of the edgier establishments, where topsiders went to get a taste of the undercity without actually having to venture below. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to be annoyed at the arrogant topsiders who came to Zaun to indulge in all the things they couldn’t in Piltover before returning to their cushy homes and easy lives. Tonight felt like an infiltration, and it was you who would be inserting yourself somewhere you could never belong.

You met up with Silco outside the gates of Ko Shosu’s estate. He’d gone straight there from a meeting with some topsider businessman, and he was dressed as elegantly as he always was. As you approached you glanced at the people milling around on the wide driveway, and you suddenly felt underdressed.

“You’re almost late,” Silco said by way of greeting, and the nervous knot in your stomach only tightened.

“Sorry, sir. Border guards held me up. You know how they are.” The Enforcer at the checkpoint on the bridge had made a huge fuss over your ID photo having a slightly different hairstyle than you did now, just being an asshole because he was an Enforcer and he could.

“Hm,” was all he said as his eyes raked over you, and your mind instantly went to those little stitches in your dress. You suddenly felt as if he could see every little flaw in you, and the feeling only worsened when a couple of women in glittering floor-length gowns swept past, arm-in-arm and laughing airily.

“Do I look all right?” you said just to break the tense silence. “This is the best I have.”

“You look perfectly acceptable,” Silco said, and that was almost worse than if he hadn’t said anything. Acceptable. You’d be lucky if you weren’t mistaken for a servant. “Shall we?” he said then, offering you his arm. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Take my arm. We have to at least appear as if we both want to be here.”

“Do you want to be here?” you said as you curled your hand around his elbow, trying to ignore the jolt you felt at touching him, even if he was wearing a coat.

He scoffed. “Of course I don’t. But needs must.”

As you made your way up the long driveway, you couldn’t help but gawk at your surroundings. You knew this wasn’t even close to being the grandest house in all of Piltover, but at that moment you could have believed it. There were at least four floors, the upper two ringed in balconies spilling over with hanging flowers and vines. The next closest house had to be at least a hundred metres away, and in the dark space between you could make out the open expanse of a lawn lit by a ring of ground-level lamps, and manicured trees on each side. You couldn’t imagine what the topsiders would do with such a space – you could probably fit a whole other house in there, even one as large as Shosu’s.

And when you entered the house itself, you actually gasped. “Someone lives here? It looks like a palace.”

Silco shot you a glare as you stared at your surroundings with wide eyes, barely even registering the doorman who came to take your coats. “Remember how I said you were the only one I could trust not to fill your pockets? Don’t make me regret it.”

But you were hardly listening as your eyes roved over the crowded ballroom. It was a sea of fine suits and jewel-toned gowns, with servants darting through the throngs like the quick little fish that lived in the shallows of the river, trays of drinks and tiny pastry-like things balanced on their fingertips. Music drifted from somewhere you couldn’t see, almost drowned out by the chatter, and diamonds glittered at fingers and throats – and even on the ceiling, you noticed as your eyes drifted upwards, or at least it seemed like the chandeliers were draped in strings of gemstones that scattered the lights in every direction.

“Concentrate, girl,” Silco muttered close to your ear, making you shiver. “Remember why we’re here. Torek is over there,” he said, though you couldn’t possibly guess which of the guests he was indicating. “Do you remember your task?”

You dragged your eyes away from the spectacle before you to meet his mismatched eyes. “Keep his wife distracted while you get him to consider working with you. I’ve got it.”

“Good. We won’t need to stay long – an hour at most, then you can go home and do whatever you’d like. Maybe you can even catch Ran and Dustin.” As he said this the corner of his mouth tilted up, and you realised with some shock that the Eye of Zaun was teasing you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was nonchalance. “It takes as long as it takes. You know I’m not one to rush a job.”

“I’m aware,” he said as you started to make your way through the crowd, weaving through the throng as if you weren’t aiming straight for your unfortunate target. Perhaps it was because people knew he was from the Undercity, or maybe whispers of the things his people did in dark alleys and dingy establishments travelled ahead of him, but the dense crowd of people seemed to loosen before him, as if people suddenly remembered they had other places to be when he approached. If it offended him, Silco gave no sign, but instead he leaned in to you again. “He is close now. Laugh like I’ve said something terribly clever, you look petrified.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, but you did as he asked anyway, and it seemed to help. The tension you had felt in the air around you receded a little, and before you knew it Silco was shaking hands with a tall, portly man. You barely heard as he introduced you as his guest for the night, your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. Rupert Torek had an open, kind face, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he smiled, and he didn’t seem surprised that Silco had sought him out. You wondered if he had any idea how fucked he was.

“We haven’t met before! I’m Liana, Rupert’s wife,” a voice at your side said, making you start, though you quickly smoothed it over with a smile as you turned to the woman who had appeared next to you, introducing yourself and hoping you sounded like you knew you belonged here, just like she did.

Liana glanced between you and Silco, who had already captured her husband’s full attention. Her brows lowered slightly, and you wondered if she had suspicions about her husband’s gambling. “I didn’t know Silco had a partner,” she said carefully.

“Oh, we’re not…together,” you said, laughing airily. “I’m just accompanying him tonight.”

“I see,” Liana said, though now her smile seemed frozen in place, and you wondered if you’d offended her somehow. But nevertheless she called over a couple of her friends, whose names you quickly forgot, and for a moment you were very pleased with yourself. There was no chance Liana would try to join her husband’s conversation while you had her distracted like this.

It was at this point that things started to go wrong.

In hindsight, you should have realised what Liana thought you were implying when you’d said you were accompanying your boss, and what a topsider would think of that particular occupation. But you were a few minutes into a banal, vapid conversation with Liana and her friends about something that you weren’t really paying attention to before you realised that they all thought you were a whore he’d hired for the night, and apparently found this very offensive judging by the bladed smiles and barbed compliments that started heading your way. It didn’t help that you were inadvertently showing much more skin than any of them – and how you were supposed to know the current fashions topside, you had no idea. Pretty soon your fingers were itching to take off one of your high-heeled shoes and beat Liana’s face in with it, but you couldn’t exactly square up in the middle of a ballroom as if you were in a Zaunite dive bar.

So instead, you just played dumb.

You let the thinly-veiled insults, the insinuations that you didn’t belong among them, glance off you. Nobody spent their whole life in Zaun without growing their own kind of armour. Right now yours was keeping your smile frozen firmly on your face, and so Liana was too busy with you to notice that her husband was making a business deal with the Eye of Zaun himself, right under her powdered nose.

That thought made you glance over at Silco, and the second your eyes met his, you felt a strange sort of calm descend over you. Rupert Torek was still chatting away, not even a hint of discomfort on his round face. Silco gave you a minute, almost imperceptible nod, raising his glass of wine slightly.

It had actually worked.

You tried to keep your face blank. That only became harder when Silco turned his attention back to Torek and you realised that when you’d looked over at him, he’d already been watching you.

Soon after, you excused yourself to go to the ladies’ room. You were pretty sure Liana and her friends forgot all about you as soon as you were out of sight – or at least you hoped so. You didn’t want to know what they’d be saying about you as soon as you were out of earshot.

You didn’t head to the bathroom, though. Instead you went out the way you’d come in, not bothering to collect your coat from the doorman as you went down the stone steps as fast as you could without running.

As soon as you were outside, away from the glare of the house’s lights, you felt the tightness that had settled in your chest loosen. You hadn’t even noticed the anxiety creep under your skin with every barb Liana and her friends had thrown your way, but when it finally dissipated you wondered how you’d been able to breathe at all.

You should go back now that you’d got your fresh air. You couldn’t just disappear.

But one glance back at the shadowy figures moving through the ballroom windows had you moving away from the house, into the shadows of the grounds where nobody would notice the Zaunite girl who was hilariously out of place among them.

The pathways were lit by low electric lights, and there was nobody else out here. You chose a path along the edge of the grounds, shielded on one side by a high wall and on the other by a huge rosebush bordering the lawn. You weren’t sure whether you were really supposed to be out here, but nobody stopped you as you wandered further into the grounds.

Eventually you found a bench and you sat down, tipping your head back to watch the stars in the sky. You’d only ever seen them when Silco sent you up to Piltover on business, and on those nights there was never time to stop and really look at them. Down in the Undercity it was difficult to see the sky at all through the smog, let alone the dozens of stars that shimmered through the haze of Piltover’s lights.

For some reason you couldn’t name, tears sprang to your eyes unbidden, and you tried to blink them away without ruining your makeup.

Of course, that was the moment you heard footsteps approaching.

“Drinking alone already?”

Your head snapped up to see Silco strolling towards you, and it was then that you realised you still had your glass of wine in your hand. You sighed, taking a sip as your boss sat down next to you.

“Just needed some air,” you muttered as Silco slung his arm over the back of the bench. It didn’t escape you that if you leaned back, he would have his arm around you. “How did it go with Torek?”

“I expect we’ll be getting a visit from him or one of his associates in the near future. His wife wasn’t too much for you, I take it?”

“I handled it. But they’re all just so…ugh.”

Silco chuckled as he pulled a cigar from somewhere in his coat, and you tried not to let the sound startle you. You’d never heard Silco laugh before, not even a little, and the sound was surprisingly warm. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to do this again for a while.” You watched as he held the cigar between his crooked teeth as he flicked his lighter, the strange angle of the lights highlighting his sharp cheekbones as he took a long drag.

“You know, I don’t think we’re allowed to smoke out here.”

“I don’t care.” He blew a long puff of smoke out into the crisp night air, staining it with a rich scent of tobacco and spices. “Is something bothering you?”

You searched for words to explain the anger tightening your throat, but came up with nothing that made sense. You were a numbers girl. Words were Silco’s thing. You shrugged. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m asking, so I would say it does.” His voice had hardened, and you glanced over at him in alarm, though he didn’t look angry.

You didn’t want to push it, though, so you sighed and took a sip from your wine to buy a few seconds, feeling Silco’s mismatched gaze on you the whole time. “It’s just…all they did in there was bitch about things. What I was wearing, how I acted, their husbands, their lives. And yet…” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. The gardens that must have needed a whole team of people to maintain. The lawn that sat empty when it could have grown enough food to feed a whole street of hungry Zaunites. The house. “They have all this, but it’s all they’ve ever had, so they can’t even see how privileged they really are. Meanwhile we have to scrape every penny just to put food on the table and some people in Zaun don’t even get that. If I lived up here I’d never complain about anything ever again,” you finished, and by now you were speaking into your wine glass, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Silco was quiet for a moment, and you didn’t dare glance up at him to see if you could gauge what he was really thinking. You’d never been so candid with your boss before, and you half expected him to leave and pretend tonight had never happened. The very last thing you expected him to say was, “What if I told you that tonight had been something of a test of your loyalties?”

Now you did look up, and he was watching you with that kind of calculated detachment he was so good at, though something in the hard lines of his face had softened. Or maybe it was just the moonlight.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

He took his time answering, taking another long drag of his cigar and releasing the smoke in a ring. “You’ve been with me a short while now, and you’re a very talented accountant. With your skills and some forged papers you could easily find work topside. Something with less risk and more pay.”

You flushed at his insinuation. “You pay me just fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “All wages are higher topside, you know that. You could have walked out of that house with a whole list of people who would pay you far more than I can for the same work, but you didn’t. Instead you stood there and allowed me to work on Torek while everyone in that room thought you were just some girl I’d hired for the night.”

You started to splutter a protest, but it died on your lips when you realised Silco was right. If you’d revealed your real job it would have raised Liana’s suspicions.

“It’s a long road ahead of us until Zaun is an independent nation. The topsiders won’t let us go without a fight,” he said, his voice dropping in case you weren’t alone in the gardens. “There will be times when you are tempted by offers of money, better jobs in better places, employers who won’t ask you to break the topsiders’ laws every day. I needed to know that you were true to the cause, that you would remain loyal to me even when you had the opportunity to make things easier for yourself.”

“You were giving me an out,” you said as it clicked into place. “Why now?”

“Because by now, you know exactly what you’re getting into by staying. Your choice to work for me is a genuine one.”

“So did I pass? Your test, I mean.”

“We would not be sitting here now if you had failed.”

You weren’t involved in the…bloodier side of Silco’s business, but you weren’t ignorant to it, either. You knew what he did to people he suspected of disloyalty. Would he really have let you go if you’d wanted? Or would you have disappeared into the shadows of the Lanes, never to be heard from again? You wouldn’t be the first. But then you realised that you’d never been afraid of that, because you would never give him a reason to doubt your loyalties. Zaun had to break free of Piltover, and he was the only one with the wits, the resources, and the sheer bloody-mindedness to finally cut the undercity free.

A sudden cold breeze blew in off the river, making the hedges surrounding you tremble, and you became acutely aware that you had left your coat inside. Before you could give yourself the chance to think better of it, you leaned back, and as you’d suspected, Silco didn’t move his arm. He didn’t quite put his arm around you, but he traced a circle on your bare shoulder with the back of his thumb, almost as if he was reluctant to touch you in case he scared you off.

“We can return to the party if you wish,” he said, and now he was near enough for his warm breath on your ear to send shivers along your skin that had nothing to do with the chilled night air.

“I prefer it out here.”

“As do I.” He held his cigar between his teeth as he reached into his coat and produced a small metal hip flask.

You couldn’t help but snort as he uncapped it and the smell of whiskey hit your nose. “You brought your own alcohol?”

He took a swig and then passed the flask to you. “Better than the swill they’re serving in there.”

“That swill is probably very expensive.”

“So is this. Drink.”

You took a small sip and were proud of yourself when you didn’t cough, even though the whiskey was strong enough to make your eyes water. A pleasant warm sensation spread out from your chest as you swallowed, though, and you shivered as you licked a drop off your lip. “Definitely tastes expensive.”

You looked up at him, and Silco’s eyes quickly snapped away from your mouth as he made a vague hum of agreement. For a while neither of you spoke, and you only passed the flask back and forth in companionable silence. The music that drifted towards you on the wind picked up in pace, and you heard the occasional drunken shout in the distance. Still nobody ventured into the dark grounds.

“Earlier I told you that you looked acceptable,” Silco said all of a sudden as he tapped out his half-smoked cigar and put it back in the tin. “I believe I should have told you that you look lovely instead.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you risked a glance up at your boss – who had told you that you would look pretty on his arm, who had trusted you with this mission and had noticed when you slipped off to be alone. Nobody ever did that.

Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe you were delusional or perhaps just stupid. You didn’t really know why you did it, but before you could think better of it, you leaned over and kissed him.

It was only a quick, chaste press of your lips against his, and you instantly regretted it when Silco stayed completely still against you. You jerked backwards, already apologising. “I’m so sorry sir, I shouldn’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Silco’s hand was firm on the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him and kissed you. Properly this time. It was your turn to freeze in shock, but you quickly got over it as his tongue danced against yours and you tasted whiskey and smoke. You eagerly let him in as he deepened the kiss, shivering as his hand slid up your leg from your knee to your thigh, and for the first time that night you were glad of your too-short skirt.

You gasped in surprise as he pulled you onto his lap, barely breaking the kiss as he made you straddle him, your skirt riding up as your thighs spread. Feeling bold, you ran your hands through his soft hair, and he hummed in approval as you raked your nails through the short hair at the base of his neck. In response he gave your ass a firm squeeze, grinding you down onto his lap.

And onto the hard length beneath you.

You circled your hips against him as he moved down to your neck, holding you in place with a hand in your hair pulling just tight enough to hurt as he bit more than kissed you, leaving marks that would definitely be impossible to hide in this dress. You couldn’t give a shit. No way were you going back into that stupid party after this.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” Silco said, emphasising his point with a sharp snap of his hips up against you.

“I—” you started, but you could only focus on his hands creeping up your thighs again. Except this time, they didn’t stop.

“Go on,” he coaxed, as if you were supposed to focus on anything except his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. You hissed as he tugged them down and the cold night air hit your pussy, and it faded into a whimper as he trailed his fingers along your lips, pausing to circle your entrance in a way that made your back arch. “And don’t you dare try to lie to me, sweetheart, because you’re already wet for me.”

“Um…” you tried to focus on anything but the soft, barely-there brush of his fingers against your pussy. Every time you tried to grind against his hand he moved away, keeping his touch just a little too soft, the bastard. “I think – maybe…”

“A few weeks?” he prompted.

“Mm – no…”

He raised an eyebrow, but rewarded your answer by pressing his thumb against your clit, though he still refused to give you what you wanted. Needed.

“Months?”

“Longer. Since… I wanted this since my first day working for you.” Finally, Silco slid one long finger into you as his thumb drew an agonisingly slow circle over your clit, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

“Do you want to know a secret, my lovely?” he said, his fingers moving faster, obscene wet noises filling the air.

“M-hm.”

“I have you beat. I’ve wanted this since I interviewed you.”

Your eyes flew open at his admission just as he sank another finger into you without warning. Later. You could think about what he’d said later. For now you just let yourself enjoy the curl of his long fingers inside you, the expert ministrations of his thumb on your clit that sent waves of warm pleasure up your spine.

Until the bastard stopped.

He withdrew his hand from you, and his fingers glistened in the moonlight from your wetness. Your eyes widened as he licked them clean, then he motioned for you to stand. “Get up. Go and stand at the end of the bench.”

You followed his directions on shaky legs, and Silco followed, casually strolling around to stand behind you. You had a good idea of what he intended. He trailed his fingers up your bare arms, then fisted one hand in your hair while the other held your bicep in a bruising grip. “If you want this to stop,” he purred in your ear, “say the word now.”

You only pushed back against him, feeling his hard length behind you.

“I thought not.” Then he bent you over the arm of the bench, the ornate steel armrest digging into your hips as he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees. You weren’t sure if you shivered with the cool breeze or the anticipation as you heard him unbutton his pants, his hand still in your hair. Then you hissed as you felt the press of his cock against your centre, arched your back as he slid it through your wetness before finally sinking into you as his free hand started playing with your clit once more.

Your voice rose in a high, keening cry as he sheathed himself inside you, easing the ache of his entry with his fingers on your clit. He stopped abruptly, pulling you up by your hair. “Hush now,” he hissed in your ear as he let go of your hair and shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could taste the echo of yourself on his skin. “You don’t want them to think you really are my whore, do you?”

You choked around his fingers for a moment before you relaxed your throat enough that you could shake your head and make a garbled nuh-uh sound, which earned you a low chuckle.

“I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart,” he said as he started to move, setting a quick, urgent pace that reminded you that anybody could come around the corner and see you bent over a bench with the most powerful man in the Undercity driving into you from behind as you gagged on his fingers. Every thrust of his hips ground yours against the metal armrest, and you knew you’d surely have bruises in the morning. “I wish we were somewhere I could fuck you properly. Take you apart piece by piece until you’re nothing more than a writhing, crying mess in my bed. But perhaps you do like the idea of someone seeing you, seeing how well you’re taking me. How wet you are.” His breathing was becoming shallow as he fucked you, but that didn’t stop the stream of filth from his mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I would kill to see the look on Ko Shosu’s face when he realises we used his party to lure his friend into our web and then defiled his rose garden right under his nose.”

He said something else after that too, but you’d stopped listening to his words and let the low, rough cadence of his voice be the final push you needed over that peak you’d been approaching, once interrupted and now higher than ever. Even Silco’s fingers in your mouth weren’t enough to muffle your cries as you came, your thighs shaking from the strain of standing while your walls clamped down on Silco’s cock, over and over again in waves of agonising bliss. He followed soon after, and you felt a warm rush as he spilled himself inside you with a groan he muffled in your neck.

For a moment you both stood there, catching your breath. You sighed in relief as Silco removed his fingers from your mouth, and after tucking himself away he cleaned you up with a handkerchief before pulling your panties back up for you. “You felt just as good as I’d imagined you would,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your abused scalp.

“Is that something you imagined often, sir?” you said teasingly.

“Most nights,” he murmured into your hair. “And perhaps some days, too.”

Well, damn. You had no idea what to say to that, other than, “Me too.” Maybe you had actually drank too much. “Take me home,” you said, leaning back against his chest as he straightened out your skirts. You felt him smile against your hair.

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

#arcane x reader #silco x reader #silco x you #arcane x you #arcane x female reader #cursedfanfic #ive been dipping in and out of this for months and now im sick of looking at it so here you go lol

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notjustjavierpena · 2 years ago

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Hurried Morning

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Back already with something for you all. Hopefully you’ll enjoy what I wrote yesterday morning. Ah! I love young Joel Miller, neighborhood dilf.

Summary: Joel neglects himself before you have to leave to give you one last dopamine high.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (minors DNI), clit stimulation, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, Joel has big strong hands and just likes to please if he is in control

Word count: 1.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47667250

Hurried Morning

Joel says that he is merely feeling generous with you as he pulls your half-naked frame into his lap, so that your back is resting comfortably against his broad chest. You want to say that he is simply lazy but it’s not like you are ever going to let that slip from your mouth.

It’s late Sunday morning and you’re both seated against the headboard of Joel’s bed. Sarah will be home just before noon, and Joel has to change his bedsheets, air out the room, have a shower and maybe fix up some lunch for him and his daughter. You, on the other hand, just have to get cleaned up and go home before she is here.

He doesn’t have to tell you about his generosity; you know he is insatiable, giving and generous by now, actually knew about a week after the first night that he had taken you to his bed. You know it is cliche to sleep with the hot neighbor, but no one knows about it yet, so you’ll bask in the beauty of how he makes you tremble until someone finds out that you’re screwing the hot single father. You pray, no pun intended, it isn’t the God-fearing Adlers.

You’re in a loose t-shirt that screams weekend, a Batman logo on your chest, but beneath the hem, a pair of cotton panties with a little bow cover your core. You rest your head against Joel’s shoulder as he rests right hand just above your belly button, it seeming undecided at whether or not to go down. His left hand is placed on top of your thigh, scratching slightly until you shiver.

“Do you have a plan with those hands?” You ask him.

“We ain’t got much time,” he muses with a sigh in his pretty little Texas accent. You squirm a little, “I’ll just have to forget myself for a moment, hopefully I’ll forgive myself for it.”

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You ask with disappointment in your tone but the left hand curls around your thigh to pull it a little to the side, opening you up for him.

“‘Fraid not, sweetheart, but I’ll have you chanting my name anyway,” he spreads out your other leg too, noses along your throat and grins into your skin as he sees your toes curl in anticipation.

“O-okay,” you reply, simply waiting for more.

Joel kisses your throat then, right hand descending to hover over your underwear. He only hesitates for a split-second before he cups your sex, fingers sliding over your cunt and then rubbing his whole palm over you to feel the warmth radiating through the fabric. You sigh contentedly.

“Feels good?” He asks, holding his hand there for a moment and a bit of slick seeps out of you. For someone who said that you were short on time together, he sure is taking it.

“Yes,” you try to breathe in deeply but the breath ends up hitching in your throat as he finds your clit on the outside of your underwear. The pads of his index- and middle finger rub slow and lazy circles.

“So this is what we’re gonna do,” he booms behind you. You ready yourself for instructions, “I’ll make you come on my fingers, and then you’re gonna go home and not think ‘bout me all day and night. Night, do you hear me? Especially all night.”

Oh good lord, that went straight to your pussy. You nod quickly, “Whatever you say. I’ll do it.”

The fingers on your clit disappear again but only so Joel can use his thumb instead, and you’re reminded of how huge his hands and fingers are. He presses down on your sensitive nub for a moment, and blood rushes between your legs.

His free hand goes from your thigh to slide up under your t-shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze before his thumb and forefinger tease your nipple. It hardens immediately, and you instinctively buck up your hips. It makes Joel hum behind you, and soon, you feel his generous size poke into the small of your back. It is unbearable to remember that he told you that he won’t put it in you.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know,” he tells you as you moan into the room, turning your head so your face is towards his jaw. You have your eyes squeezed shut as he scratches a little from side to side, making you clench around nothing but emptiness. He continues speaking filth, “I know, baby. I’ll touch you properly soon. Hang in there.”

Your legs shift a little on the sheets when he starts going in circles again, coaxing more arousal out of you until your panties feel sticky. To think that you were happy that you had a pair that wasn’t ruined by him, and with a chance of being dry underneath the jeans that you were going to wear as you walked home later.

You moan a little louder as a bolt of arousal pulls from inside your cunt and goes to your clit. You can feel it pulse against the fabric, against Joel’s thick finger.

“You can have it all, baby— shit, listen to you,” he gropes your breast obscenely, even tugs a little, as he rubs you off with a little more pressure. You want more than this, want him to go inside and relieve some of the pressure that builds inside of you.

“Please, Joel,” you plead shakily, “It’s not enough.”

“I know, never is,” he removes both hands from your body but only to slide them up and down your thighs a few times, finally going inwards to grab on either side of the front of your underwear. He pulls the fabric upwards and taut against your clit, making you whimper as he doesn’t relent quickly again, “Bet you could come so prettily like this. Bet you you’ll go home and do it to yourself later whilst not thinking of me.”

Joel’s breath is hot against the shell of your ear, even slightly elevated from what the both of you are doing. He is still rock hard against you, so you grind back into him.

“Stop,” he commands immediately. His hand flies up to grab the front of your throat, fingers digging slightly into your carotid artery and making your head spin.

“It won’t go away without me,” you pout as he lets go again when your hips have stilled.

“This ain’t about me,” he tells you, then follows up patting your swollen cunt a few times on the front of your underwear. You keen, and he shushes you softly, “This is about you. About her.”

The fabric has smoothed out once more after Joel had to let go of it, so now, both of his hands slide underneath the waistband to touch you directly. He trails a finger from each hand over your labia, expertly avoiding your clit. They go down, one scooping up some of your slick by dipping into your for just a second before going back up.

You are shaking like a leaf, a string of noises leaving you. They were supposed to be words but it’s like you have lost connection to the part of your brain that controls speech. Joel chuckles behind you.

He rubs your clit again with his arousal-covered finger for a moment but then decides against it. For less than a second, you start to feel the pressures in your lower abdomen fade but then Joel uses his other hand to pull back the hood of your clit. When his slick finger starts touching you so directly, you can feel it spike immediately again. It is intense. You thrash on the bed.

“Fuck!” You cry out and look down where his hands are in your panties, moving and straining pornographically underneath the fabric, “Keep going. You’re— you’ll make me come like this.”

“That’s not the plan,” he growls in your ear, panting slightly but not making any effort to stop what he is doing, “I’ll make you fucking gush, yeah? Just like last night. Sheets have to be changed anyway or I’ll smell you on them and fuck my hand without getting any shit done around here.”

“Then do it,” you buck up into his hand like before, but this time also lifting your hips off the bed just slightly. Joel removes the finger from the hood of your clit to slam down your hips again, but despite everything, it just feels nice to not be so directly touched. You don’t want to know what you could’ve missed if you had come right now.

Roughly, the way you like it, Joel pulls your panties to the side. He reaches further down and shoves two fingers inside of your cunt, tilting his wrist downwards to finger against your g-spot quickly. The wet squelches of your wetness fill the room along with your mewls as your orgasm builds again without warning.

Your hands find purchase on Joel’s strong thighs but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Something is building right behind your clit, all muscles around your womb tightening like a coil being pulled. You want it, want it to snap.

“Please, please, please, oh fuck, Joel, make me come,” you are inconsolable, knowing that you’ll start sobbing if it doesn’t happen soon.

“Should’ve had a mirror right in front of us, so you can see my fingers sink into your little pussy,” he moans for the first time, feeling your walls flutter around his two digits and your clit throbbing against his index finger on the other hand. He rubs you and fucks you open in earnest.

Your right hand reaches up to cup the back of his head, fingers curling into the soft hair at the back of his neck. You hold on for dear life, pulling then to embrace what is coming. Joel growls behind you.

And then it happens. Everything that has been pulled tight releases into a high that has you feeling like you’ll melt into the mattress or lift off into the air from it. Your legs shake violently, and as soon as Joel notices the first spasm of your cunt, he pulls his fingers out to see the wet gush that leaves you and forms a stain on the sheets. He fingers you again and repeats the move, watches you gush a few times more.

You quickly grab at his wrist with a sharp intake of breath when the over sensitivity sets in. He stops moving his fingers on you and instead cups what he feels is his more than yours.

“Christ,” you hear him mutter, attempting to rub your cunt soothingly but you whimper, gripping his wrist tighter. He kisses behind your ear, “Wore the little plaything out, didn’t I?”

“What time is it?” You ask quietly, exhaustedly.

“We have an hour,” Joel says after looking at his wristwatch that is on the bedside table, “Think you should take a cold shower, soothe yourself a little.”

“You’re not joining me?” You look up at him with big innocent eyes. They’re pleasing but Joel is strong enough to resist.

“I’ll clean up here, finish up here too or we won’t make it out of the bathroom in time. Can you stand?”

You accept it.

“Yes, hold on,” you crawl off of him, avoiding the wet spot on the bed. You’ll accept anything from a man that has just given you an earth shattering orgasm.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#joel x you #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #dilf!joel #tlou #joel

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ghost-bison · 22 days ago

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1x12 episode of doctor who "bad wolf" is such an interesting episode, i just realized. not just because it's fun and fast-paced or because there's suspense, but also because, think of the actual plot of the episode.

the human race of 200 000 years into our future is forced to take part in games that were already in session in the 21st century.

we have big brother - a reality show which has the same name as the oppressive force that dictates your life and watches everything you're doing, violating your privacy, drawn from a dystopian book written to criticize this exact kind of behaviour. and what did capitalism do with it? a reality show. where people stand behind a screen, stalking on and dissecting your life. the participants are forced into reshaping their personality into what the audience (society) wants it to be. if they lose this game, they lose society's approval and that means they lose their sense of self. which ironically is what 1984 by george orwell criticizes.

then we have the weakest link - interesting choice yet again, because it's not the only television game show out there right? but that's the one they chose because its name tells you all you need to know: your ability (or lack thereof) to answer questions about specific topics, oftentime topics that aren't necessarily academic or even interesting (who cares about what year katy perry released her debut album or how many children this actor has, honestly?) to measure your intelligence. richard feynman said "never confuse education with intelligence, you can have a phd and still be an idiot". people who take part in tv game shows aren't chosen because they're geniuses, simply because it is not designed to be understood or played by a genius: it's made to entertain regular people and make them feel good about themselves, so that they don't try to be smart. it normalizes bullying and prevents you from using critical thinking by making you believe trivia equals intelligence, and if you don't have it, then you are, literally, the weakest link.

finally, we have what not to wear: a reality show where contestants (mostly women) are selected by people they know - as in, friends or family who call them out for their unfashionable dressing style, which is already fucked up as it is - and are videotaped and followed around for two weeks as they go from store to store to get a makeover. their taste is exposed by the camera crew, exposing them to bullying and more generally to criticism from anyone watching the show.

the episode explores those games 200 000 years in the future, where people are selected against their will, and moreover, the stakes of the games are now their own life. you lose, you die. Life is now nothing more than a bet, or russian roulette. which is... kind of how life works, actually: a game of pretense, you never know when it could stop. it's mostly not up to you, your only options are to give up and die, or go on and pray for it to work out. and if you don't fit into the mold, it just takes the decision away from you because life is unliveable when you don't fit in.

there are a few interesting ties between this episode and 1x07 the long game (and when you think about it, even the title was a clue as to what would come next), and it's not just the fact that they're both set on satellite 5, with 1x12 happening 100 years after: it's the consequences of the doctor's actions, and adam mitchell.

so in 1x07, the doctor thwarted the editor's and the jagrafess' plan and put an end to the hidden dictatorship. which was very similar to the one in 1x12, wasn't it? rewarding people who play along so they won't question the system.

there is, however, the additional touch of terror in 1x12 which, in 1x07, is only revealed to those who try and go against it, like poor suki who got turned into an icicle soon as she got to floor 500.

upon returning to satellite 5, just 100 years into the future, the doctor finds out that what he did actually put a halt to humanity's evolution, as the radio signals stopped emitting and humanity found itself isolated from the rest of the universe, but this time with no one to lead them. the reason being this: the doctor never stays.

the doctor is, himself, without command. but what differentiates him from the humans, though, is that... well... he is not human. isolation was imposed on him after he lost his entire species, the only ones who could truly understand him.

and while he travels with a human at his side, he is always very careful of whom he chooses to share his lifestyle with: the doctor doesn't abide by the rules, but neither does jack. and rose, although not as openly rebellious as the other two, questions those rules. what's more, she's curious and has a deep need for more than her regular life. but there is no hidden motive behind that curiosity, she is doing it for herself.

which leads us to adam mitchell, the wannabe companion of 1x07: technically a genius, adam manages to hop onboard the tardis after the doctor realizes that, maybe, adam is just like himself. a belief that is quickly debunked in the outcome of the episode, after adam prioritizes capital over his growing relationship with rose and hers and the doctor’s trust, risking breaking fixed points in time just to make money and gain fame and recognition, something the doctor is fundamentally against.

adam is academically smart, but what is it if not fatally dangerous when it is not met with common sense? I think it’s why the doctor left him with the chip in his head. he said it: adam would have to lead a very quiet life in order not to end up getting dissected. it’s not just a petty punishment or consequence for his actions, as i used to think it was, but a security, because adam’s intelligence is corrupted by modern day society and without retrains, it could have devastating consequences.

thus, the doctor calls himself the doctor because he wants to help people, yet he doesn’t have a degree to “earn” that title. it just means healer, and that's what he tries to be. as we learned in series 6, he is probably the reason this word even exists in the first place.

in 3x01 smith and jones, martha refuses to call him doctor as, for her, you need to earn that title. this probably influenced his decision to bring her along, not just because she met his criteria for a companion, but to prove her wrong and broaden her mind.

he wants to make her understand that theory isn't enough to become something so important. he understands that true intelligence comes from experience and what you choose to remember from said experience, like wisdom and compassion. he isn’t much into theory, because he learns by being curious: what makes people tick, what they like and don’t like, and in the process, he learns about himself, who he wants and doesn’t want around him.

in 1x12, the doctor knows the disintegrator bim won't be used on him because he is not afraid of difference; he is profoundly aware of his own difference, and therefore, he isn't compatible with the game.

rose laughs and ridicules the game; she doesn't see the point, as, contrary to other team players, especially rodrick, she's not driven my money or the need for approval, as the doctor taught her what life lived to its fullest looks like behind all the pretense and make-believe.

the doctor, rose and jack are to themselves a pretty cool representation of what society should be about

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steviewashere · 10 months ago

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If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts.

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #3+1 #humor and hijinks #humor #or at least an attempt at humor #mild hurt/comfort

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inkzee · 21 days ago

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🚬BURNOUT🚬

bunny doll oneshot

summary: Through the adventure at Spudsy's a certain purple bunny finds himself burnt halfway through the adventure. He thought the only thing that could warm him in his hiding place was cigarettes, but the presence of a certain doll proves otherwise.

small warning: if you are not okay with smoking it's okay to skip this one

A/N: This fick is kinda based on the comic I made like a few days before ep 4 came out (linked here) and I just wanted to write down this little idea that I had of Jax and Rag's in a freezer during a break.

word count: 1.2k

Spudsy’s wasn’t the ideal working environment. The greasy mountain bugers. The smell of sour ice cream. The pushy manager. The works. Though it had moments of entertainment for Jax, he found a certain manager who made the place a living hell. But there was one place where Jax could get some peace from the chaotic environment—the Freezer.

Sure it was colder than a polar bear’s @#$ but he had quickly found an alternative to the bitter cold of the ice box. Cigarettes. He had no idea where or how Zooble got their cruddy claws on them, where she found them, or why Caine thought to add these into the world. All he knew was that he finally, finally something to pull his mind out of this hellscape of an adventure.

He flicked open the box to find a multitude of different colored cancer sticks, he rolled his eyes. Even the stupid cigarettes are colorful. He grabbed a blue one with a red tip, and placed it in his mouth while stuffing the box back into his pocket quickly and grabbing the box of matches in his apron. Opening the box of matches and licking the match across the box, giving off a dim light in the dark room. Lighting the cigarette he quickly shook the match out and made a sharp inhale.

And that feeling. That feeling he hasn’t felt since he spawned into this hell whole came rushing in. The slight tingle he felt in his throat and the sudden burning in his lungs was a feeling he all too well missed. “You’ve outdone yourself Caine” Jax smirked murmuring to himself as he let out a quick exhale letting the smoke fill the small area, letting himself gently slide down the wall. Allowing the warmth in his chest to travel through his body. Or once he finally felt… at peace? Normal? That wasn’t even the right word, he had never really felt normal before.

Even before the Circus.

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts as the freezer door slowly swung open. Crap Jax cursed to himself quickly moving himself behind a shelf. He prayed that it wasn’t Gangle, he couldn’t go through training again. He just couldn’t!

“H-hello~?” A giggly, preppy voice echoed as the freezer door closed. “Any-he ha Anyone in here?”

But instead of the cheery and annoying manager, it was a giggling, stumbling ragdoll who looked high as a kite. She had been this way since earlier this morning and Jax didn’t know how or why she got like this but it was a weird sight to see. Sure she was still smiling, but it looked unfamiliar and different. And the things that she’s been mumbling and saying to others…Jax couldn't really care less but there was something she had said earlier that caught him off guard…

“I like, hate you but I don’t want you to hate me… Is that weird?”

He had originally bypassed the comment as if it was nothing. He didn’t want to give what the ragdoll said a second thought, but…

“Oh hey, Jax~” Ragatha waved loosely, moving like a ragdoll. “Gangle was wondering where you were” she giggled. “What are you doing in the fre- OH MY GOSH WHERE DID YOU GET THO-”

Jax quickly grabbed her loose arm and pulled her toward him, quickly covering her mouth. Quickly shutting the door behind her.

Jax shushed her. “I don’t know what you're on nor do I care, but I don’t need you announcing the whole kitchen that I’m in here”

The doll removed his hand from her mouth. “Okay~ Okay~~~ I get it.” She giggled pointing at the cig in his mouth. “W-where did you even get a box of those from. Didn’t Caine like make things like.....illegal~?”

“Don’t know. And don’t care” Jax sighed releasing more smoke into the chilled room. Ragatha oh-ed the ways the smoke filled the room.

“Can- I have one?” she asked in a childish, mystical tone.

Jax narrowed his eyes to her, giving her a quick snort. “Whatever you’re on must have turned your brain to mush doll. Why would a goodie goodie like you want one of these?,” he leaned down to her eye level and pocked her forehead slightly sending her off balance. She clumsy slapped his hand away. "What happened to your lawful nature~" It was an attempt to make a snarky remark.

“Shut up and gimmeeeeeeeeeee-” she swinged her arms and reached for the half smoked cigarette out of the bunny’s mouth.

“Hey-” Before he could finish his sentence the the doll placed the red end between her plush lips, and tried the inhale smoke from the bud.

And Jax just stood there.

Shocked.

Speechless.

And oh so confused.

There was something else there as well. Behind that shock. A slight tug in his chest that stopped him in his tracks. It felt hot like he was just seared by the end of the cigarette currently in her mouth.

And.

He.

HATED.

That stupid feeling!

He knew the feeling all the well. It haunted him everytime the doll lectured him. It haunted him when she yelled his name in that annoying tone he liked when he did something wrong. It haunted him even in the bitter cold of a freezer with the doll who clearly isn’t herself. And he hated it because he knew. He knew he could never act on it.

No.

He was too scared to act on it.

“Aww-” Jax was snapped out of his thoughts to see the ragdoll sadly staring down and the unlit bud between her fingers. “It went outtttt~~ Nooooooooooooo~” she childishly groaned. If Jax didn’t know any better, he would have thought she was gonna throw a tantrum.

“Shhh keep it down!” Jax shushed. She quickly slapped her hand over her mouth.

Jax sighed at her stupidity, reaching inside his pocket the grab both boxes out of his pocket. Quickly grabbing another pastel stick from the first box. The opening the other to grab a match.

“Awww~ I want a new oneee~”

“Too bad you're not getting one!” Jax grunted as he flicked the match across the box painting the freezer in a warm dim light, which got a ‘ooooh~’ of approval from the ragdoll. He placed the stick in his mouth and brought the end of his to the burnt end of the half-used cigarette between the Ragatha's lips and brought the match up to light both ends.

Ragatha watched as the flame licked the ends of the buds, lighting the ends a pretty ember. Her eyes widened in a trance at the sight. The bunny soon realized how close he was to the doll. The way the flame light reflected onto her was mesmerizing. Of course, this wasn’t her real body, but he noticed the way the light shined into her eye… The burning feeling came back again. And instead of beating it down with a cocky joke, he sat with it. And let it warm him in the cold chill of the freezer.

But the moment was soon cut short when her gaze turned from the flame to him, causing him to make a sharp quick gasp. Watch caused him to inhale and choke on the bitter burnt taste of the cigarette soon causing a short burn in the back of her throat. He began to cough profusely.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh~” the doll shushed him quite loudly. “You don’t wanna get ca-”

On cue, the freezer swung open to show a certain preppy manger, “What’s going on back here?”

@#$% Jax cursed to himself.

So much for a corporate break.

#bunnydoll #fanfic #bunnydoll fanfic #jax x ragatha #ragatha x jax #tadc #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #ragatha #jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanfic #tadc fanfiction

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 14 days ago

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Hi there! I know we have practically no knowledge on RSA, but what do you think the chances are of RSA being connected to the Silver Owls or at the very least the original kingdom Silver’s family came from? We know that Henrik, Leah, and the Dawn Knight all came from a kingdom in the Land of Dawning which is right next to Sage’s Island where RSA is (also I think I read somewhere that the island is considered part of the Land of Dawning but I can’t remember if that’s true are not). There’s also the sword imagery that RSA has on the coat of arms that’s associated with the Dawn Knight and Silver himself (and the white horse but that may just be because RSA students are supposed to be more “prince like”). Then again, it could just be simply a call back to the Sword in the Stone.

The only issue I have though is the timing. If we believe that RSA was established after NRC and the events we see in Lilia’s dream, that means Silver’s family would either be in Briar Valley already (Bladesvalle or whatever they called it) or after their kingdom had fallen and Silver was asleep, so them establishing a school all the way back in the Land of Dawning would be weird. Though, I guess it would make sense if RSA was established in memory of the royal family. Maybe by the guardian fairies that Dawn had? Idk, but I hope after book 7 we get more info.

The Silver Owls are described to be a collective composed of people from various nations who view fae in Briarland as a threat and/or want to seize their resources. They have a common enemy and goal, but don’t appear to have loyalty to the same country.

I do believe that Sage's Island counts as part of the Land of Dawning, which also seems to be where Silver's blood family hails from. It's also true that Royal Sword Academy has motifs which are commonly associated with Silver or the Dawn Knight (swords, white horses, etc.). However, I don't think there's anything that explicitly links them to RSA, its founding, or its history. It's an interesting idea though... to think that this shining school full of pure-hearted "let's work together!" types might have been founded as the result of such a bloody and tragic era of conflict 😔 Monuments and establishments made in honor of a perceived fallen hero can honestly be made anywhere, be it the home country or some other place of relevancy. It may not be an important detail that nothing was made in Briarland's conquered territory (especially when the land itself seemed to be not that hospitable for human lives + maybe humans didn't feel comfortable being there for prolonged periods of time for construction, given tensions with fae). It might also be interesting if the guardian fairies that the Dawn Knight is always praying to for strength had some hand in establishing RSA. We don't know much about those fae in particular; maybe they'll meet Silver later in the main story??? I would personally like to know why these three guardian fairies sided with and got along with humans as opposed to the fae the Silver Owls ended up combating. Is it simply a case of diurnal vs nocturnal fae...? But then that doesn't make total sense because diurnal fae (pixies) also exist in Briarland, and it was clear they were also being hurt in the conflict. Again, there's a lot we have yet to discover about this sordid history.

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #Dawn Knight #Silver #notes from the writing raven #question #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories #book 7 spoilers

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eclipzee3 · 1 year ago

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˗ˏˋ 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝔂 𝓷 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓴𝔂 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` 1.9k? ``°•

ㅤ`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹°｡･:*˚:✧｡☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:

➵ title came from putting kinky and pink together. Pinky just didn't sound right, so I put both, lol.

➵ tw sex toys, price being the sweetheart he is. Oral sex, p n v, not very kinky, but idk what to put for a title 😭

Tip: If you just want to skip to the smut, go to the image of the cat! (It's okay, I understand).

He loved your pink room, your pink clothes.. your pink everything. (And your pussy obvs) He loved spoiling you for your plushies and makeup... even going as far to get you hello kitty toilet paper. Which you only convinced him to do by telling him it was limited edition or something. He couldn't quite remember. But what he did was one of your orders following that one.

You often asked him to get you things, which he wasn't opposed to. He'd do it every time, happy to see your joy when the packages came. But this time, he just liked to see what you would get.

It was some link you sent him from Amazon. A link to a cart. Which he rightfully looked through, curiosity taking over his thumb. He was greeted with multiple sex toys. What my cock isn't enough now?

Needless to say, he was a bit jealous. Jealous of a dildo? Maybe. But could you blame him? It was a fucking pink one too. Even the dirty stuff had to be cute. He continued through the order, buttplugs.. specifically the ones with gems. All sizes for some reason. He knew you were far too tight for all of them, but that would be a problem for later.

Ribbons. Ribbons? Why ribbons? And why is it the thickest ribbon he'd ever seen? He knew. But he didn't want to know. Not now.

Up until this point, you thought he'd never go through your orders. He had never before, why would he when you decided to get sex toys the one time?

One time, it was indeed. Price kept looking through the order, the classic fuzzy handcuffs making eye contact with him. He loved you. He really did. He loved the sex life you guys had. He loved everything about it, but everything in his being was him praying those ribbons weren't to tie him up and do weird shit to him.

John wasn't a very kinky man. Dick inside pussy, done. He never got the extra stuff. It was sex, not a Damm puzzle trying to figure out which hole the toy went in? He knew you. Inside out, and this was something he was.. clearly not familiar with. He was a bit scared. But at least the rest of the order was body wash.. and 2 large bottles of lube.. for some reason.

`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

You never knew he had gone through the order, so when it finally came a few weeks later you were intending on surprising John.

So when you perked up on the couch bolting to the door, John was already getting nervous. He really hoped you weren't about to cuck him with a damn dildo and tie him up with those fucking stupid ribbons. John was making his own personal vendetta against the ribbons.

Like you didn't have enough already? He groaned, rubbing his face as you had already brought the package on the dining table. He got up walking over to you.

"Why don't we open it later, yeah? Watch a movie?" He suggested. Jesus, he could already feel his body betraying him. Getting tied up wasn't something he would like, but his groin was really telling a whole other story. Maybe it was just ribbon? Right?

"No.. I wanna open it now. You'll love the stuff I got, I promise." You smiled at him, not noticing his whole little crisis going on. You just went to get a knife to open the package, revealing.. thankfully, the body wash on top.

"I wanted to try out a new scent, I heard good things about it." It was vanilla macaroon or something like that. He was mainly focused on the pink underneath the bodywash. That dildo hated him. Stupid fucking piece of plastic.

He could see the fuzzy pink.. the shiny metal of the 3 fucking butt plugs. Fucking three. "I bet it smells good." He choked out. It was only now when you finally started to notice his demeanor. And his odd placement. His hands were on the table, right at the edge. His body was pressed into them, perfectly aligning his junk with his hands. Thankfully, he was able to hide it.

You grinned, knowing what was under the bodywash before pulling the bottle up, revealing your.. toys. John let out an audible sigh, slight relief he didn't have to act like he didn't know. Now, he didn't know what to say. Maybe what he had thought about the toys?

"Why'd you get all this? Is my dick not 'nough now?" He said in his gruff voice, slight chuckle following. You just laughed, shaking your head. "No, I just thought it would be funny. I already named the dildo, his name is Bartholomew."

"Wonderful name." John followed, swallowing. You even named the thing. Part of him wanted to know if you had named his.. or if that would just be weird. Maybe it's just john? Or captain..? John was really overthinking the dildo. Hated the dildo.

"You really need the dildo- Bartholomew?" He corrected, immediately feeling self regret. Was he now respecting it?

"Yes, because what If you're not here and I'm lonely?" You were really just fucking with him. It was a dildo, just something to fuck when you were bored or something. Or when john was deployed.

"I think that I'm much better than a hunk of plastic, love." He said, glaring at it. He couldn't stand the thought of that taking his place. If anything, you could've gotten a mold of his instead. Not some pink thing with little to no detail.

"I agree." You responded, glancing at him. "I think it'd be better if you had cuffs on, though." You added, watching him turn his glare towards you. "If anything, you should be wearing the damn cuffs, sweetheart." He moved off the table, pouring the box out on the table.. little clunks following before he grabbed the dildo packaging, opening it and pulling it out before putting it to his junk.. trying to compare sizes with his memory. "Mine's bigger anyway." He concluded, dropping the dildo on the table with a plop.

"What if this is bigger? You jealous?" You teased, grabbing the dildo as well before slapping it for fun. It did have recoil. That was obvious.

"No." John replied dryly.

It was a few weeks after the purchase of the sex toys. You had really forgotten about the dildo until john walked in your room one day, messing around in there for fun. He was just messing around with you, looking at the various things in your room. It was all pink. All of it. Pink comforter, pink anything. If It was in there, it had pink.

"Why do you have so many serums..?" John turned back from your vanity, looking through all of them. You did have too many, but they had cute packaging, so it was fine. "'Cause." You replied, leaning back on your bed. You had a princess bed, obviously. You were a princess, after all. John was the one that insisted on them, actually. And he was definitely correct on getting them. You had little things scattered through the curtains, like personal items. Pins from places you been, little self awards, etc. John looked at your vanity for a second more before going to your nightstand out of curiosity, opening the drawer, only to be met with what he dreaded most. That stupid fucking dildo. He'd stand by that til the end of time.

His dick was better. He knew that, you knew it. So why did you need this pink dildo? "Why you still got this?" He held it out, earning a laugh from you. "I was gonna put a sharpie face on it, never got around to it. Do you want it?" You teased, and he just gave you a glare. "No." He said, observing it before dropping it in the drawer and getting on the bed as well.

"You have a boyfriend, dear." He said dismissively of the dildo. He no longer wanted to call it by its name. It didn't deserve to. If anything, his dick should have its own wardrobe and identity. But even his dick knew he belonged with you.

"So I'm just supposed to suffer without you when you're gone? Or use my fingers? It's not exactly ideal, john." You said a smile on your face. He only watched you silently. Thinking.

"Have you used it yet?" He asked. He really hoped you hadn't.

"Why are you asking?" You only answered with a question, john moving atop you.

"I just wanna know.. tell me." He purred, obviously sweet talking you before he kissed your neck, nibbling on it as you only giggled.

"Why should i?" You said, playing with his dog tags as he practically ate at your neck.

"Dont make this hard for me..." He pecked your lips, one of his hands creeping down your legs and rubbing them.

"What're you doing, john?" You asked playfully, watching his hand cup your pussy, rubbing it through your panties. His hands were always better than yours. John really knew how to make you melt because soon he was in between your legs, his tongue lapping at your heat.

His nose pressed against your clit as his beard tickled you a bit.. you hands tugging at his slightly grown out hair. "Fuck- god..!" You bucked your hips, watching as he grinned. His hands were placed over your thighs, keeping you close as he licked and sucked your poor clit. His nails dug into your skin while he continued to ravish your pussy, keeping you still.

You were a mess already. John knew you. Like he knew every spot to make you moan his name, to make your hips jolt into his face.

He shook his face in your cunt, your breath hitching as he slurped vigorously. His lips moved up and wrapped around you clit, sucking hard as he watched you writhe above him.

One hand came down.. one finger probing your entrance as he sucked your clit hard.. then soft.. then only giving it little licks as his finger slipped inside you, easily with how wet you were. He curled it, watching as you squirmed even more. He added a second finger, repeating the action, but faster. You moaned, eyes rolling back. It felt so good coming from him. Any other man and you would've been dry, but john wasn't some stupid man. He was experienced with you, of course.

"You like that ?" He edged you on, only making you nod as he continued to slurp at your cunt. You were so much wetter than you thought. The room was filled with lewd sounds of John's fingers entering you and leaving you and his sucking.. it was all too much. "John.. oh my God. Don't stop.." Your words were barely audible as you shut your eyes, your pussy tightening around his fingers as they slowed down, his tongue hardly licking your clit now as he watched you melt above him. You licked your bottom lip, looking at john as your thighs tightened around his head, his tongue gliding back down to suck your juices. "Tastes so good, babe." He purred, only making you more lustful.

He finally stopped, moving up between your legs before giving you a kiss, John's hand slipping up your top to cup your tit. You kissed him back, tasting yourself on his lips before he began undoing his belt, quickly getting rid of his pants and boxers.. slipping his shirt off as he nibbled on your neck, his cock rubbing against your clit as he moved his hips slowly. It was purely just to rub your clit and get him off while he groaned softly, taking in your scent.

John was covered in hair on his chest, and his happy trail made you go mad. His dick had to be better, though. As you bucked your hips, moaning a bit yourself while you tried to get more stimulation. John then slipped himself inside you, earning a gasp from you as he started slow. Even after fucking him so many times you never really stretched enough for it not to hurt a bit.. so every time you did fuck his cock always managed to make your cunt falter. And that's what he was doing now. "Tell me.." He taunted.

You watched him slip in and out of you steadily.. his nose still buried in your neck as he began to get quicker.. your hands squeezing at his back a bit only for him to begin to pound into you, at the perfect spot. You moaned, not holding back as he suckled on your neck, surely marking you. He didn't hold back, eventually moving from your neck and holding your face in place as he fucked you.. really pounded into you relentlessly. "No.." you weakly responded, getting a smile from him.

"I can tell you're just as tight as were last time.." He grinned, knowing his effect on you.

You weren't really capable of making noise now. Not when he was hitting right at your cervix, little whimpers streaming from your mouth as he kept going. "Is that dick good? Hm?" He grunted out, hardly getting a little nod from you. You could barely move. Your nails were clawed in his back.. and you could only register how good it felt... and how good he was. "Yeah?"

He fucked into you, beginning to rut his cock further inside you instead as he inched closer to release, only making him go rougher. "Fuck.." He hummed roughly, keeping a strong hold on you as your cunt only leaked more arousal.. he was practically milking you of everything you had while you just let him, the pleasure far too much to stop.

Soon, john was even getting sloppy, trying his best not to cum, but it really was the inevitable. He stayed inside you, rubbing your clit as gentle as possible, strings of little whimpers and moans coming from you. Your neighbors were definitely sick of the weekly fucks.

"Shh.. quiet, princess." He said softly. He was a gruff man, so his soft voice was more of a soft smokers voice. To shush you, he leant down and gave you a long kiss.. rubbing circles into you clit while his cock began to slowly piston into you. You kissed him back, his tongue entering your mouth as you made even more noise for him.

Your back arched, hips bucking into his hand while you tried to get more stimulation, and john gave you exactly that. His hand quickened, as well as his thrusts, while you just couldn't take it.

Your pussy was absolutely covered in your arousal, and the base of his cock was collecting your juices, creating little froth. John's finger grazed over your clit, and that was what made you break. You let out a lengthy moan, and it didn't take long for him to realize you came. He took his finger off, instead pulling from the kiss, creating a string of spit between you two. "Good girl.." Your pussy appreciated those words, your thighs trying to close desperately as you shook a bit, squirming while you felt him fuck you a bit faster, helping you come from your high.

Your mind was blank.. you couldn't even think of the consequences if he came inside you, but by then he was buried deep in that cunt of yours, fighting back moans as he came.. rutting up a few times. "S'so good." You mumbled, barely audible. John just chuckled softly, pulling out despite your pussy trying to suck him back in.

He moved back up, kissing your neck again before getting off the bed and slipping his boxers on, taking your shirt off. "I'm gonna run you a bath, alright?" You nodded, him picking you up while you clung to him, allowing him to bring you to your shared bathroom, turning the faucet on for the bath while you stood in it.. only feeling his cum seep out of you. John acted with a towel, cleaning you off with pleasure and a sweet smile. He was definitely better than your dildo.

He would be throwing that out tonight, for sure.

Honestly, I lowkey hate the dildo too. Don't blame him.

Anyways, this took a while. Sorry if the smut is bad, I tried my best, lol 😭🫶🏻 I could've added more detail to the smut, but idk I kinda just wanna get this out of my drafts, so here you go

#john price smut #john price x female reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x f!reader #john price #cod x reader

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buckgasms · 14 days ago

Text

Ok I did a bit more thinking about this post

Naturally I got very carried away and added some romantic smut towards the end. Sorry not sorry. Enjoy ✨

So let's say your Witcher Bucky is invited to some fancy event at a palace, and you beg him to take you because you've never been anywhere like that before.

And even though he thinks those events are more trouble than they are worth, he can't resist the way your eyes shine and you squeeze at his arms as you playfully pout at him. So he relents.

You venture into town for a dress for the occasion, and whilst nothing really feels right you end up picking a dress that makes you feel good, matches your eyes and when you twirl a little it swishes around with you.

It takes a few days to travel there, but you are happy to spend time together. He tells you stories about places you come across, some are funny, others are a bit like something from a horror story. You definitely snuggle up closer to him each evening, worried about monsters finding you. But he keeps you safe, letting you press your body into his. He doesn't mind that at all.

A problem arises when he sees you in the dress. He is gobsmacked at how beautiful you look, and he has no interest in leaving the room for a stupid party when you look like that. He growls as his hands slide over the soft fabric, squeezing at your waist. You giggle and pull him in for a kiss, promising him that he can do what he likes with it after the party.

Once you get there, you both keep to the sidelines, watching all the fancy people gliding around the room, laughing loudly and making a show of who they know. Some people come up to Bucky with quiet respect, shaking his hand and complimenting your dress. They say things like, "he saved my life" or "I owe him everything for what he did for me..." When you are alone again you link your arm into his and pull him down to kiss his cheek. Pride swells in your chest as a faint pink tinges his skin.

I'm going to say something happens. Like a mini disaster. Maybe an uninvited guest arrives and starts threatening the other partygoers, or makes a threat to the royal family. Chaos descends and you get separated from him. It's just a clash of swords and blood and shouting that sends you fleeing to a dark corner, praying it all ends soon.

Married life is quiet and safe. This is not that.

When the madness ends you are discovered by Bucky, his face pale and full of worry.

"Are you hurt?" You both say breathlessly as he takes you in his arms. You say you're fine and he indicates no damage as he pulls you from your hiding place. But as you look at the carnage your legs stop working and you are frozen in place. You can't walk through that.

Without hesitation he lifts you into his arms and you bury your face into his neck, gripping his hair between your fingers as he paces out of the room. He's muttering how everything is ok and he has you, the sound making his chest vibrate, oddly soothing as you cling tighter.

Finally you are back in the room of the little inn you are staying in. You'd both like to go home but it's a two day ride and that's out of the question with the state you are in.

Moments after he sets you down you notice a cut on his arm and spring into panic/action mode. You fly around the room babbling apologies for making him carry you and hunt for your little pack of bandages and medicine.

It takes him grabbing your face and making you look at him to stop your panicked babbling.

"I'm ok sweetheart, it'll heal itself in no time..."

The softness of his voice immediately sends you into a flood of tears, collapsing into his chest, telling him how much you love him and how you don't know what you would do without him. He chuckles softly, stroking your hair and occasionally wiping away your tears.

When you calm down a little he sets you on the bed and pulls off his filthy clothes, tossing them in a corner before kicking off his boots. You kneel on the mattress and he comes to you, letting you help him remove his shirt, exposing his broad, hairy chest to your soft fingers. His hands reach for your body and he tuts.

"Your pretty dress is ruined"

You look down and see the marks and dirt on it before meeting his eyes.

"Take it off?" You ask and he obliges, pulling at the skirt until it glides over your head, leaving you almost bare in front of him. Having forgone a bra, as none of yours suited the dress, you are immediately exposed to him and his hungry eyes. You were worried about it this morning, but you didn't care now.

He pulls you in, cupping your cheeks and pressing soft but desperate kisses to your lips, travelling over your cheeks and throat. You return what you can, letting your hands explore him, sighing when he kisses those certain magic spots.

More clothes hit the floor before he nudges you backwards, slowing guiding you to lay on the mattress, his huge form towering above you.

He grips your ankle and pulls it up to his lips, before trailing along your shin and placing more kisses to your knees. He alternates before sucking gently at your soft thighs, peppering them with little marks of devotion. Your hands grip his hair, trying to guide him to where you want him most, and he obliges, although painfully slowly.

He pushes your thighs wide, holding them open with ease, still kissing the soft skin there, tantalising close to your folds until you groan his name.

"Please... Please do it..."

He chuckles, always enjoying your shyness at asking and he grins up at you.

"Ask me properly my love. Don't be shy..."

You groan and feel heat burn your body as his smile gets wider. More teasing kisses are given as he waits patiently for you to relent.

"Will you....can you....kiss me....here?"

You spread your legs a little wider as an offering and, taking pity on you, he relents. You tried your best and he's happy to help you work on that later. For now he dives in, kissing and sucking at your folds, his tongue expertly torturing you in the most perfect way. You cry out in relief as the pressure starts building, writhing under him as he spoils you.

He slips a finger in as he sucks hard on your clit, groaning at the way your body reacts to his actions. You whimper at the sensation, digging your fingers into the mattress. The coil in your belly tightens to breaking point as his fingers curl and his tongue flicks enough to send you over the edge.

As you catch your breath he continues his path, more kisses to your hips and stomach, making you giggle as it tickles. He lavishes attention on your breasts, sucking and nipping at your impossibly soft skin.

When he finally reaches your face you are a wreck. Eyes glassy with emotion, lips swollen from biting them and your hands gripping his face so tight he wonders if you are scared to let him go.

"I'm here darling. I'm here and I'll never let you go..."

You emit a little sob as you pull him to you, kissing him like you might die if you don't. You wriggle a little until you can feel his hard cock line up with your heat, still kissing him and holding him tight to keep you grounded.

He groans as you make contact, jolting a little as feels your wetness drag across his cock.

"Bucky please..."

He pulls away the slightest amount to allow him to sink into you before he's back, pressing the full weight of his body into yours. He's barely moving within you but you both pant and moan as he stretches you, the sensation enough to make you see stars.

"I love you"

Both of you whisper it, between kisses and bites and groans. His pace increases and your legs shake, tears slipping down your cheeks as he reminds you of who you belong to, and what he would do for you.

"I've got you baby, just let go..."

"No one's ever gonna hurt my girl, my wife...mine"

"Fuck...you feel what you do to me? You see how you make me crazy sweetheart...."

It all adds to the heady atmosphere and as he fucks you harder and deeper you feel the coil snap again, harder and longer than before.

He curses as your climax sets of his own, holding you still as he fills you up, kissing and praising you for taking him so well.

You curl up into his body after he collapses next to you, his arms scooping you in closer still and you swap lazy kisses and gentle strokes to his cheeks and chin.

You start to drift off, exhaustion finally settling over you but you whisper one more 'i love you' which he easily returns, and he starts counting down the seconds before he can take you back home...

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut

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slaaverin · 12 days ago

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You’re post was exactly my reaction!

There is something about the way Jimin wrote this one, that feels inherently different, more open?

I suppose we don’t know their exact living situation, how many others are with them etc, but the image conjured of them laying in bed at night talking about their hopes, dreams and fears is so endearing. I know they’ve spoken about odd things here and there, but there is something about Jimin indicating they do this together that is striking. Akin to him saying to Joonie that he and JK have deep conversations about music, it’s some sort of insight into what they speak about, serious things, not just mundane, and we don’t get to actually see this ever, not even in the show.

We know they enlisted together for a reason, although not fully shared with us, no hint other than reassurance, but the fact they did, the fact they did the show and we got to watch that, the documentaries (x3) and the book, all these things inexplicably link one to the other….

To have Jimin write his thoughts. Their conversations so beautifully stated in a letter, to let us in a tiny bit. A glimpse into their thoughts at this current time, is exciting. It shows of potential plans, of comebacks and music. (Praying for a subunit with you).

Why do I get a feeling, an energy from this? Do you feel it?

Anon, we're speaking the same language.

I feel a major energy from this letter.

You can see that Jimin chose his words with a lot of care and thinking into it.

Of course we've seen jikook talking before for example in AYS.

Yet in AYS we didn't see what they truly talked about in those lost hours, when the camera was off, the very personal conversations.

Just imagining the both of them talking when the lights are low, before sleeping, just the two of them having real and serious conversations about their future, it holds something meaningful.

The fact that Jimin is talking to us about it so openly? Even if not in details, the basic outline, it feels huge. Because Jimin has always been about privacy, especially in the recent years.

The fact he comes back after so much time being silent and just delivers suddenly something so personal, IT BLOWS MY FUCKING MIND.

It's not just mere words, it holds importance for him & for Jungkook.

This is probably a huge part of their future they are talking about, with many aspects we don't even know.

I agree with you, the image is striking. What I precisely imagine is the both of them lying on their beds, facing each other while other people go about their business, talking between themselves. "The quiet time" before bed where they can go on their phone and such. I think other people are not focused on them while they have their discussions. I think it makes sense?

Ahhh it feels intrusive just thinking about it.

"we've been talking a lot about what we need to prepare before that moment arrives, what kind of image we want to show, and what kind of lives we will live moving forward."

They are not just talking about the group here. They are also talking in a personal way. Because "life" encapsulates everything, Jimin & Jungkook as performers, Jimin & Jungkook as humans, but also Jimin & Jungkook as a couple.

My inner voice tells me that Jimin knows we would understand this.

It feels so deliberate.

So yeah I'm getting a major vibe from this letter and I think that's why I've been freaking out so much about it.

But maybe we're projecting? You know what every time I tell myself that jikook just prove every time that we're right. So I won't bother.

I agree with you, everything fits in this great jikook puzzle. I think it's safe to say now that the situation must be at least close to what we imagine it to be. Because the events of these past years only gave us reassurance and pointed out to exactly this. I think we need to trust our guts.

I will feel dizzy if I think about the potentials too much, so many fun things could come about. I'm very interested on what kind of person they want to be and what part of themselves they will show.

I'm filled with questions and I can't wait for them to answer.

The whole thing feels exhilirating and stomach turning.

I'm giddy to be honest.

So happy to be here to share this next chapter with all of you, I think we're gonna be in for a lot of surprises.

I don't know, but I think we're not the only two feeling this from this letter, tell me if I'm wrong.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts 💜🫂

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #ask #jimin's letter

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velvetures · 1 year ago

Note

Helluuuu!! I saw your post about sending requests and mine is actually a really simple one cause I don't have a creative but I just though about a ghost hurt/comfort story

Little Secrets

A/N: So this is very self-indulgent... I hope you don't mind. I think there are quite a few people who struggle with taking meds for depression/anxiety or feel guilty for it. Me included. Hopefully, this helps everyone feel valid, seen, and supported. Summary: Task Force 141 is where you belong. But it doesn't make the work easy by any means. You finally get the help you need and try hiding it. Ghost notices and is the one who sets you straight. T/W: depression/anxiety themes, medication, guilt, insecurity of reader, fem reader, and I'm sure I've missed something, so let me know.

photo by: pedropcl

You couldn't keep fighting it for any longer.

Staring down at the two orange bottles of pills in your hands and the directions packets in the other, you felt like you'd failed despite the psychiatrist you'd spoken to reassure you that this was certainly not a failure. Your brain kept refuting that this was a step in the right direction. Working as a professional and legal murderer should've meant you had no feelings. No failures of regulating your emotions or having such miserable trouble falling asleep at night. That nice woman who'd put the prescription in for you said it would take two to three weeks to see a difference. It felt like no time, yet an eternity all at once. Relief felt so far away, but insignificant compared to other people you often compared your personal struggles with.

You weren't homeless, you could eat without worrying, you had clothes and shoes all of the time, and never needed to wonder if you would have enough money to take care of your responsibilities. Education hadn't been a problem, you were well-respected despite being a woman in such a male-dominated field and kept up with your work extremely well. At least, when your brain decided to deny that you had the ability to do anything. Or... repeatedly try to convince you that nothing you did was worth a damn or actually made you useful. Vicious cycles of fighting with your own brain, knowing that you shouldn't feel or think this way but have no strength or way of stopping. None of the "hacks," meditations, or affirmation bullshit touched that panicky feeling you had mere minutes after laying down at night.

The pills shaking around in your hands were your last resort. And they made you feel so fucking embarrassed as you tucked them in your pockets before entering back into HQ. Praying to god that none of the 141 would see you with them or hear that slight sound of them rattling in their bottles. By grace or luck, you were able to avoid all of them and got back to your quarters to stash them under your bed in a small ammo box repurposed for some personal belongings. The directions you'd thrown away on your drive back, just taking a picture of them for reference and ditching the paper copies so you wouldn't have to keep track of those.

"This better fucking help," You breathe out heavily to yourself.

Staring up at the ceiling and almost dreading having to take one tonight before bed and the other when you wake up the next morning. Daily reminders of how you couldn't be hard and cold like the others. Cool and collected like Gaz, confident like Soap, unaffected like Ghost, or just so very reliable like Price. It made you feel like the weak link needing support. You'd never needed it before, and within two years you'd suddenly realized that your own mind was winning in a fight you'd never even been aware of fighting in the first place.

Keeping all of them in the dark about this would be safest. If they didn't need to question your stability, then it wouldn't feel like such pressure to perform. And hopefully, after a few weeks, things might start to shift a little. Maybe enough to where you could begin sorting out the other problems without the image of a cluttered attic representing the state of your head. Taking care to not raise the alert of the 141 wouldn't be easy. Always noticing everything out of sheer training and sharpened instincts. Having no other good ideas... You just settled on doing everything you could to keep your little secrets under wraps.

In the following couple of days, you’d become adjusted to the routine of taking your medications on the surface level. While the one tasked with easing you anxiety and depression wasn’t going to take effect for quite a while longer the other -a sleeping aid- was definitely making a significant impact. You were able to actually fall asleep and stay that way, problem was, with a couple missions impending in the near future, you were getting concerned that if you took them when you were supposed to -on a schedule- that staying awake would be next to impossible. And if you didn’t take them at all… you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of breaking a much more healthy habit.

And the reason you were so worried about the missions was because of a reoccurring problem that the 141 began finding you falling victim to. Thankfully you were all on leave, making it a lot more acceptable, but they still began walking into different rooms around HQ to see you sleeping soundly. No matter the noise level, temperature in the room, or the space you’d fit yourself into. And no one was quite as intrigued with your sudden change in behavior was the Lieutenant.

Ghost liked things to have order, and often used regiment or habit as a very small form of comfort when he felt that his physical situation was one that could be trusted. And while the others just thought you’d found a new safety in HQ and enjoyed sleeping somewhere safe, Ghost could see that something much different was happening. Your sleeping wasn’t a new habit.

It appeared far too quickly, and you oftentimes didn’t look like you had much control over it. There had already been three times where he’d watched you fall asleep on one of the guys late in the evening without as much as a single attempt to fight the drowsiness. While Ghost didn’t like to think that he cared that much about you, he found himself paying even closer attention to you than he had before.

“There she goes…” Soap chuckled quietly, pointing to you on the couch; head laying in Captain Price’s lap, eyes closed and sleeping deeply with your arms tucked against your chest and lying on your side.

Price had a loving hand on your head, and had been idly petting your hair much like a father would despite being hardly of age to act it. Yet, Ghost felt that Price’s warmth towards you wasn’t the entire reason you had yet again fallen asleep before 11 o’clock. Purposefully he’d been keeping count, and this was the fifth time in a week. More than enough to raise alarm with the others… but he was still waiting silently for someone else to bring it up.

Price chuckled, glancing down at you. “I carried her to bed last time,” His pointed look at each of them was more than enough to guess what he was about to say. “Someone else needs to, otherwise you’ll be voluntold.”

Ghost internally groaned. Not only was that kind of behavior what made people soft, but it also made seeing through the mask of affection far more difficult. But before Soap or Gaz took initiative, the Lieutenant was up on his feet and approaching Price with every intention of being the one to take you back to your quarters. Looks got thrown around the room, and Ghost wasn’t stupid enough to not notice. It was the first time he’d gotten this involved, and there was certainly a spectacle of him picking you up carefully enough to not wake you.

Even though he was quite certain it would take a lot more to get you up than that.

Your door opened up into warm, glowing light from a little lamp you’d left switched on. He catches sight of your quilt on the bed and the little rug that made the polished concrete floors look so much less like the jail cell his own quarters resembled. The whole room smelled like you too. Sweet, and a lot like cinnamon rolls. Probably some type of candle or other smelly thing that you had thought was worth spending money on. Plenty more reasons added to the list of what separates the two of you. Debating your differences or the reason you preferred your quarters smelling like a bakery wasn’t his purpose for bringing you back to your room.

But even with laying you down on your bed and pulling the sheet and blankets over you, Ghost wasn’t seeing any of the possible signs that could lead him to better understand what was going on with you. Nothing is out of place though. Your room is pretty much spotless save for a sleep outfit you’d laid out for tonight, but wouldn’t have the chance to get changed into. And right about the time Ghost decided he’d been looking into your business too much, he bumped into your nightstand.

It knocked something off into the floor, bouncing under the bed and clattering a bit.

Ghost sighed, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling and having quite the frustrating experience of dealing with the sudden responsibility of making sure you were cared for. And that meant picking up whatever shit he’d been too busy watching you, to not knock somewhere under the bed he’d have to fish around and find. So he knelt down and pulled his phone from his pocket and used the flash to spot a tube of chapstick near the bed frame foot.

That, and an ammo box with your initials spray-painted onto the side of it.

Compared to everything else, it didn’t look like it fit amongst the rest of your things. And damn if Ghost didn’t have a sudden gut feeling that it was the reason you’d been sleeping so much. Why you’d been so out of character; Setting his teeth on edge. Reaching out… Ghost grabbed the lip balm and got back to his feet and sit it down on the nightstand where it couldn’t be as easily disturbed again.

“G’night kid.” His whispers fell on your unconscious ears as your Lieutenant dismissed himself from your room and back down to his own space.

***

You woke up in your bed after falling asleep somewhere unintentionally, for the who-knows-which time. Just like before, left in whatever clothes you’d been wearing and all of your blankets tucked up tightly around you. It left a lingering sense of disappointment in yourself. A little pinch of sadness rested like a rock in your stomach. You couldn’t really remember falling asleep to begin with. If you ended up keeping this little habit going, there’d be no doubt you would risk everyone on a mission falling asleep at the drop of a hat.

All because of this damn medicine.

One that you needed to grab from under your bed, and sneak into the kitchen so that you could have some water and food. You'd seen one of the tens of sites -during your research of your pills- that it would help digest it better... whether it actually worked or not wasn't something you could tell. But either way, a doctor had said it, and plenty of people taking it agreed. So you grabbed the pill, shoved it in your pocket, and went out into the kitchen to find a glass.

The floors felt cold even with socks on. And while a steady rain poured from the sky, you were more heated with concern that someone would notice you. Notice your sleeping issues, the way you crawled around in the morning for the first couple hours before the pills began working, or the shady way you hid your face in the refrigerator while swallowing down your medication. Surely the stuff had to be working since you'd not been struggling to get your work done throughout the day. But maybe that was the hard part. Taking pills to fix your head, but needing your brain to recognize whether or not you felt better.

"Oh god help me..." You mutter quietly, searching past Soap's energy drinks and Gaz's revolting jug of green juice to find something you could make for breakfast.

A cabinet door shutting behind you nearly stopped your heart. Seeing Ghost's dark eyes evaluating your reaction didn't make your heart rate drop back to normal either. In his typical day-off wear, a pair of well-worn jeans hung low on his hips and an old SAS t-shirt you'd seen him wear countless times stretched tightly over his chest and shoulders. No doubt he'd been up since four. Quite certain he never actually slept, you wondered momentarily if he could benefit from the sleeping tabs you took. But quickly that got covered in anxiety when his eyebrows furrowed at your expression.

"Nothin' to eat?" He asked with a smooth voice, nodding to the refrigerator door you still held open dumbly.

"N-no... just a bunch of shit drinks." You reply, letting the door shut and noticing that he's got a brown bag with grease spots at the bottom corners. He just nods, looking off into the empty common room. Like he's trying to think of the right way to talk shit about both Gaz and Soap's bad choices in hydration.

"Sit. I've got enough to share." He jerks his head to the other side of the counter, turning that wide back to face you, leaving no room for argument.

You're swallowing down a thick bite of a bagel with god-knows-what in British style as Ghost brews tea. Silently making you a cup as well and standing stiffly with both milk and sugar on the table with the expectancy that you tell him how you like it. Not really unusual behavior from him... typically you get along just fine. But it's the fact that he watches so heavily.

"Just sugar, please." You say through a mouthful, covering your mouth with your hand.

He nods, but then starts putting the sugar in, mentioning something about fucking Americans before sliding the mug closer to you with a couple of fingers. Those damned eyes are just as observant as ever when you crumple up the finished sandwich before he even steeps his own drink. It made you nervous. Wondering if those pills were helping with your appetite too. The psychiatrist said it could; Something about feeling less stressed can give your body more opportunities to worry about being hungry. It was one of those facts on the medication packet you'd taken pictures of.

"Plans for today, L.t.?" You ask, sipping the tea, eyes grazing over the cup rim as you stare at the back of his head.

Mask rucked up high enough to eat and drink freely he nods his head. Leaning his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter

and resting one hand back.

“Yeah, you?”

You shake your head uselessly, “No. Maybe some laundry, but I’m not really even due. Wouldn’t be worth the water in the machine.”

He hums lowly, taking a drink of his tea. You can hear his swallow and a steady exhale of air that follows. Whether it’s him cooling off the steaming cup or just breathing, you cant tell. But it’s so steady that you actually mimic the tempo of it. Feeling the way it expands and contracts your lungs smoothly. Almost settling. Much like L.t. himself in that way. Terrifying until you see just how easily you can be around him. He’s always quiet and composed, even when there’s plenty of reasons not to be. You wished it was something you could do too. Maybe it would help the task force if you didn’t have to spend your energy keeping yourself at an unnoticeable level of consistent panic.

“Know anythin’ about cars?”

“No,” You’re quick to add on. “But I can learn fast.”

You watch the way the back of his mask slides down further and how his head tilts from side to side to settle it comfortably. Seeing the rest of the tea get dumped into the sink and his own sandwich bag get crumpled up. He’s silent as he washes the cups used and methodically cleans up after the pair of you. Even reaching across the counter to swipe a couple of crumbs off your t-shirt with a subtle nod to his own satisfaction.

“I like to hear it,” His hand palmed at the back of your neck. Gently tugging you off the barstool, and grabbing your jacket to toss it to you. “You’re comin’ with me then.”

Learning about cars actually became quite easy… when Ghost was teaching.

He explained the parts clearly, what his goal was, and didn’t get pissed when you handed him the wrong size socket wrench on the first try. On the other end, you’d only been working next to him -well, sitting on the wheel well- for a couple of hours when you started getting tired again. Almost helpless to your own frustration, you yawned. Fighting the sleepy feeling valiantly, and taking as detailed of mental notes as possible while watching Ghost’s greased knuckles tighten a bracket holding his master cylinder in place. Surely it was a cosmic joke. L.t. was fixing his brakes, and it felt like someone had stomped on yours.

“Hand me that,” He muttered, head stuck down in a gap between his engine block and alternator, still effortlessly pointing at a pair of channellocks. “And get in for me.”

You did as he asked, yawning one more time. Trying to blame your sudden exhaustion on the rain pelting the metal roof above you. Sliding into the back of the car and kicking off your boots to let them rest on the concrete floor outside of it. Attempting to be polite by not getting any dirty spots on the mats of the -very original- DB4 GT Aston he’d given you trust to even sit in. The leather seats help you glide into the driver’s seat, giving you a very slim look at Ghost through the gap in the hood.

“What exactly am I doing in here?” You ask, loud enough so that he can hear you.

It prompts his head to pop up from inside the engine bay, giving you those same, observant eyes from earlier. He looks back down, reaches in and taps on something harshly, then looks back to you.

“Roll it over.”

The car starts effortlessly. Practically purring under you, and echoing in the metal hangar making it sound all the more ruggedly beautiful. The whole car hums, and as you watch Ghost go back to focusing on something in front of him, you feel the heat come through the dash. It’s a perfect storm that lulls you even closer to sleep. A dangerous thing, considering the one man who could figure out what was wrong with you was the only one close enough to see. Hell, you weren’t even sure he didn’t already have it figured out, and wasn’t planning some way to tell Price about it and have you removed from the task force.

Unfit for duty.

You could just picture it now. Red pen in Price’s handwriting detailing your medications and how it was grounds from honorable discharge. Perfectly common in the military, but it felt like death in your hazy mind.

Not that you could fight it for much longer.

Because by the time the Lieutenant had finished his little bit of work, he came into sight of you, slumped over in his driver’s seat with you lips parted and your arms wrapped around yourself. Nothing short of a pretty sight for sore eyes. His car had damn near rocked you sleep, and for once, Ghost felt his heart couldn’t take the feeling of waking you up. He’d watched you all morning. Gauging your reactions, your lack of conversation, and the way you tried to keep from showing him any sign of being tired. Initially he wanted to be angry. Mad that you were hiding something from the team… from him. But seeing you sleeping there, he knew there was a fight in your head. A fight he knew well. So he left you there to sleep.

Turning off the engine to keep from filling the garage with exhaust, but pulling up one of the small space heaters close to the open door to keep you from getting cold while he worked. Making small adjustments, looking over future jobs, and even entertaining the thought of adjusting you over in the seat a little bit so that he could drive-test his handiwork. But that didn’t come, because Soap arrived with a grin on his face and no idea that you were sleeping.

Until Ghost told him to lower his goddamn voice.

“Sleepin’ again bonnie?” Soap chuckled to himself, looking at you before back to Ghost. “How long’s she been out?”

Ghost shrugged, “Few hours.” Really he hadn’t been watching the clock; far too comfortable to concern himself with it.

“I know you’ve been tryin’ to figure it out,” He started back, resting his hands on the hood. “Why she’s doin’ this so much. Have ya’?”

Ghost shook his head. “No. Not yet, but I’m not concerned.”

Johnny laughed softly, slapping Ghost on the back and beginning to walk away. “I never took you for the type to be worried, L.t.. But since you’re so reassurin’ I’ll take it t’heart.”

Any way Ghost came at that statement, he felt himself on the end of a losing battle. Maddening. Losing a fight wasn’t in his nature. Even if that meant he had to take some of the most fucked up torture to reach it. But what bothered him more than Soap knowing he was concerned about you was the knowing you weren’t okay.

Days out in the field were bad enough. But when they got worse, you were always there. And maybe you didn’t feel much better than he did, yet you always held softness. For everyone. For him. A kind of understanding and acceptance that wasn’t required, or exactly approved of in this line of work. You could keep a secret better than anyone he knew, and while he didn’t burden you with a single one of his, there was always the foreign comfort in being able to come with them if he wanted to. Hiding your own feelings wasn’t right though.

Selfish maybe. Thinking it was okay to linger in his own issues and still demand you give him yours.

But hiding behind his rank and position over you meant he could make that kind of decision without any questioning. A type of don’t fucking ask why that saved him face when carrying you from his car back to your room after you still hadn’t woken up nearly seven hours after passing out in his car. Shouldering open the door just like the night before, he expected to see nothing out of place. The same lip balm on the side table, the same rug, and maybe a different night shirt since you’d mentioned doing laundry. But there was something out of place. And damn if it didn’t make his gut twist up in a ugly kind of feeling. One he’d not felt in years, but certainly recognized as soon as he spotted the orange pill bottle sitting on your bed.

It made sense.

The sleeping. The different behavior. The reason you’d practically swallowed a whole fucking sandwich for breakfast when a cup of tea would typically be all you stomached until afternoon. And thank god… you were finally starting to look a bit fuller. Getting prettier every day, and he finally had something to place the blame on. All hesitations about you being able to handle the upcoming missions faded once he got a good look at the bottle. A medication, funnily enough, that Ghost was well-acquainted with. It wasn’t part of his own personal line-up in his medicine cabinet, but it was one he’d taken for a while.

You’d been in need of some help, and luckily for you, it hadn’t been nearly as hard for you to get help as it had been for him. Actually asking for what you needed -and while frustrating- decided to try and manage it without anyone else’s knowledge. Ghost couldn’t think of a better scenario. Realizing that the only thing he needed to know about was your side effects, and how to best manage them alongside you. Thank fuck you weren’t sick… well… sick in a way that someone couldn’t help you with. A way that he couldn’t help.

So, he sit down in on the floor in your room and waited.

Your wake-up call came in the form of sleepy eyes opening to see the massive silhouette of Ghost sitting in your floor. Dark eyes much softer than you’d expected, and a much more concerning sight of your pill bottle resting in his massive hand. A sight that sat you up ramrod straight in your bed, gasping softly and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell Price.” You sputter, rushing to get the words out of your mouth. Terrified that he’s going to get up and run out the door. Just sitting long enough to let you get a good look at his plan before exposing you to the Captain as some sick kind of satisfaction.

His eyes narrow a little, “Don’t tell Price?” His voice sounds hoarse. “Don’t tell Price?”

It sounds that much more broken and gritty when he repeats it. Standing up to meet you a bit more level, fisting the pills in his hand, and lightly making them shake. He can’t understand your fear. Completely blind to the fact that -much like him- you’re fearful of being shamed. Misunderstood for it. Or worse. Ghost can’t recognize why you’re looking at him as if he’s going to be the reason your life ends. When in all reality, you don’t see how he’s trying to figure out why you didn’t feel safe coming to him.

“You’ve been takin’ these… fallin’ asleep on everyone, and-and struggling for who knows how the fuck long…” It’s hard for Ghost to keep his tone even, thinking about it. “Why didn’t you tell me. you should’ve told me. Said something. Anything.”

Caving in on itself, your chest burns. Eyes locked on his and scanning every confusing moment of emotion and each shift as it comes and goes.

“You wouldn’t…”

Ghost takes a fast step closer, “I wouldn’t what?” His hand drops the pills on the bed and quickly grabs your face, soft fingers pressing into your jaw. “I wouldn’t get it? I wouldn’t do what you needed me to? Wouldn’t let you sleep on me?”

Your lips open in surprise at the softness in him. All of him. The gentleness of his fingers, how his eyes lay silkily on you. Even his voice, falling so softly despite it’s rough tone and deep sound, feels like he’s terrified of you being scared away from him. Like that gentle hold on your face is all he can manage, and he’d rather do anything other than let you pull away from it.

“You have to know…” he starts weakly. “You have to know that - that I would do… anything you needed me to. Anything to make this easier for you. Even somethin’ small, I’d do it for you, honey.”

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