#so it could be a thermostat or something. i don't know

[thesylenttreatment01]

Broke Sylus??!!?

Okay, so this is a literal weird shower thought I got while listening to Elton Johns "Your Song" but like... what if Sylus, our known Mr. Rich-don't-look-at-the-price-tags, got his assets frozen?

Something happened, someone got a tip, several forces teamed up together, he forgot his banking information, but for some reason or another Sylus can't access a large portion of his funds and can't use any of his many bases. He has no money or very little-- nothing but the stylish shirts on his back and his ingenuity.

I think that this idea could be wonderfully delicious because while he is trying to fix the issue to regain control of his fortune- Sylus needs to live frugal.

AND who is the only trusted poor person he knows who lives in a small shoe box apartment in Linkon? Ah, its you.

He tries to hide it at first I think-- phrasing it like he just misses you sweetie, and does he really need an excuse to come see you?

But then one night turns into two, then three, and so on. Its been a week or two and he still hasn't gone home. And, its not that you don't like having Sylus around, on the contrary, its kinda nice to have his stupid body heat curled up to you at night.

But he just seems out of place and uncomfortable... Definitely irritated.

That cabinet that hit him? Its back with a vengeance.

Your kitchen? Apparently inspires claustrophobia.

Your Plushies? Always in graphicly morbid or obscene positions when you get home.

That was another thing, Sylus seems to be going stir crazy in your apartment. While he tries to busy himself with figuring out how to get his fortune back, it can only fill so much time in a day. Every time you got home? Sylus was on you. Physically almost suffocating you sometimes with touches, hugs, kisses, and literally just laying his entire weight on you (not the worst way to go you reckon).

But anytime he wasn't physically connected to you, he was doing something. Making food, cleaning the apartment, trying to make repairs around the house (key word trying: this man assembled an entire crow mechanically, and has built and created multiple types of advanced weapons... but that goddamn Ikea table that wabbles. He swears to god, as soon as he gets his fortune back he will be refurbishing your apartment )

It wasn't bad per say, You appreciated him. But this was a far cry away from the man who would sit and read. Who's apathetic smirks and smug expressions were instead laced with a level of hyperactivity that was making YOU itchy for him.

Finally you sit him down and ask him about it. You ask him why he isn't at his many bases, why he wasn't insisting that YOU come to the N109 zone like he always had.

He deflects, getting irritated as to why you had so many questions. Weren't you the one always complaining about the commute sweetie? He was simply returning the favor. Did you not want him there?

You feel irritation as he starts to lash out at you. But you know Sylus. You know the man you've been literally bound to. He wouldn't be this angry if there wasn't something going on and you remind him of such.

He grows quiet. Too quiet. You can see the adam's apple in his throat start to bob as he clears his throat. He can't look at you. Not in the eyes.

Finally, he scoffs, “Your cabinet hit me again this morning. I think it’s developing a vendetta.”

His coin falls into his palm as he mindlessly starts flipping coin tricks as if by instinct.

“And your plumbing,” he continues, as if giving a battlefield report. “ -- it makes this sound at exactly 2:47 am every night that I can only assume is a call to arms , or possibly a mating call. I'm still waiting to hear if the sink reports back"

He gestures vaguely toward the kitchen. “The refrigerator bulb flickers like it's trying to communicate in Morse code. I believe its saying 'Miss. Hunter, please put me out of my misery' And your thermostat? I’ve seen war zones with better climate control.”

His voice is dry, but there’s something strange underneath it-- some tightness. Like he’s actively trying to keep something from slipping from his lips.

“It’s been weeks, and I still can’t tell if your oven is broken or just rebelling.”

Then, with a humorless smile, “But no--sweetie I'm fine. Everything’s just charming.”

You open your mouth to retort, getting sick of hearing about how screwed up your house was, but he talks right through it.

“I can’t access my funds,” he says, casually, like he’s noting a change in the weather. “Every account, every asset, frozen. My bases flagged. My name redacted from half the databases I built myself.”

He turns to face you finally, but still won’t meet your eyes.

“So unless your couch has a pension plan I’m unaware of, I’m currently surviving on your instant ramen and the slow erosion of my dignity.”

And there it was. The bombshell. The pin that finally dropped to the floor as the grenade was cast across the room. Finally it all made sense. The frantic nature, the endless sleep over, and the bitter remarks and irritability. Sylus wasn't irritated. He was scared. Maybe for the first time in his life, control had been taken from the man who controlled it all.

You tried to meet his eyes, but he still refused to meet your gaze. The silence stretched out, with three seconds feeling like hour. Finally, after a moment of respect. You don't say a word. Sylus starts to feel the tension burn in his chest, like was about to explode in anger, in shame, in fear, in regret and --

the sound of your heels thumped against the wood floor. Suddenly, a rush of pressured wrapped around around his shoulders as you hung from him, embracing him. You knew there wasn't anything you could say to make Sylus feel better. In fact, you were pretty sure words would only irritate him. But now you knew. You knew this secret that he had been probably carrying around for weeks alone. The pain and the fear that he had probably felt for the first time in a long time. So you don't say anything. You don't fill the room with empty words and apologies. You just embrace him you pull him down slightly to your level as you try and rest his chin on your shoulder and you run your fingers through his hair.

Sylus stiffened under the sudden pressure. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from you. In fact frankly, he half expected you to start yelling at him. Maybe an apology or two. But this.

This was just what he needed. He needed you.

He slowly relaxed as he bent down further into your arms and nuzzled into your shoulder. He could try for the rest of his life, but he didn't know if he could ever really express to you how much he needed that hug. You stand there together for a few moments. Time froze as the unspoken words that he dared not to say were finally voiced, and that fear of the unknown, the endless possibilities of your reaction: rejection? Of anger? Of fear? all moot while he was in your arms.

From that point forward, you decide to help Sylus learn to live more on the cheaper side of things. Sylus, now learns that to him, your just Miss. Hunter. But to others? You are known as Miss. Bargain Hunter

First rule of living cheap: Brand names are off the table. Any time you can find Honey Nut Loops instead of Cheerios is a good day. ("sweetie, I'm broke, not dead... but I'm certain anything that calls itself a loop will kill me")

Second rule of living cheap: Just because something is on sale, doesn't mean its cheap!!!! ("SYLUS?!!?? YOU CANNOT BUY A 300 DOLLAR JACKET!" "Kitten, aren't you always telling me I have to look for bargains everywhere? Use my opportunistic nature? This was originally a thousand dollars, that's basically as predatory as it gets. Besides, you needed a new coat" *proceeds to bonk some sense into the crow*)

Third rule of living cheap: If you craving something to eat? Keep your Crimson eyes headed towards the door. Anything they can make in a restaurant, we probably have at home (this one Sylus doesn't seem to protest as much. Sylus actually popular to the contrary enjoys cooking meals especially if you two do it together)

Despite the challenges, Sylus adapts fairly well even though he bitches the entire way along. With a little more penny pinching, a lot more coffee, and endless nights spent trying to break his way back into his own bank account, Sylus might come out of this yet.

However, despite the fact that Sylus was no longer hemorrhage cash, he was still bleeding pretty badly from what he would tell you. So one night you pull open an spreadsheet and have him pull open his credit card reports to go through his spending habits to see how you could fix it.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor of your tiny apartment, surrounded by receipts, statements, and a near-empty bottle of wine sitting between two glasses. Sylus is sprawled on the couch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he uses a neon yellow highlighter to mark one-time expenses

“Okay,” you say, tapping through the PDF print outs. “We’ve got your emergency backup account, which has… wow, just under $11,000. Honestly better than I thought. You’re doing great.”

He grunts, seemingly unconvinced.

“But there’s a recurring expense. Thousand bucks a month. You didn’t mention that. What’s it for?”

Silence.

You glance back to the couch from your laptop. Sylus seems to be reinvigorated and suddenly very interested in highlighting different things (totally not drawing you as a kitten yelling at him).

“Sylus,” you say flatly.

“It’s nothing important, Sweetie” he mutters.

“You’re bleeding money, Sy. If it’s not important, we need to cut it.”

“No.” The word snaps out sharper, final, much more commanding than he means it to. “It stays.”

You blink. “You’re literally broke and you’re protecting a thousand-dollar line item?”

He exhales slowly, hand dragging down his face. “…It’s for Luke and Kieran”

You pause, staring back at him.

“They’ve got a small place. I’ve been covering it since this mess started.” He finally meets your eyes, expression unreadable. “I sent them to check on a threat to one of our investment facilities. I told them I was working off-grid and not to contact me unless it was urgent. They think I’m fine. I want it to stay that way.”

You stare at him a moment longer, heart twisting.

“So while you’ve been sleeping on my couch, eating dollar ramen and trying to murder my cabinet… you’ve been making sure they were okay?”

He shrugs, too casual. “Well, Kitten, as glamours as your lifestyle maybe, I didn’t think you had room for three freeloaders.”

You had wondered about the twins. You feared to ask, Sylus has been extremely secretive about this entire incident and you feared that asking too many questions might cause Sylus to shut you out again. Since Onychinus still seemed to be up and working, you had figured that the twins were okay, probably still employed but working for someone or somewhere else. You figured it was a touchy subject.

But you had no idea how touchy it had been.

The realization washes over you. No, it doesn't wash over you, it crashes over you like a tidal wave as his words settle on you. Sylus, the biggest and baddest criminal almost in the world-- he always took care of everyone else.

Here he was, cutting back on expenses, buying off-brand oatmeal (you couldn't convince him the cereal was safe), swallowing his pride, sacrificing his privacy and comfort and did all of this silently. He was sitting here worried about his finances and growing tired with stress but held it all together that the people he cared about, and dare I say loved, wouldn't worry.

And that realization coils low in your stomach, heat curling around your spine with unsettling precision.

Because, of course.

Of course he would still be taking care of someone else.

You close your laptop and push it gently aside as you shift toward him. You climb into his lap without hesitation, your knees bracketing his hips, sliding your arms around his neck.

He looks up at you, slightly startled, until your lips graze his with a feather-light touch.

“You’re insane,” you whisper against his mouth.

Before he can counter with some dry or snarky, you press a kiss to his lips--slow and deep, like you’re trying to memorize the shape of his mouth all over again.

His body melts slightly as he leans into your touch, exhaling into it, hands already finding your waist, grounding himself in the only thing he doesn’t feel like he’s losing.

As you break for just a moment of air, your teeth grazing the bottom of his lips you gently push back with your finger over his lips

“I'll let you keep your monthly expense,” you say firmly. “ But only under one condition. And you won't argue with me about it. Because I will win.”

His lips curl up into an amused smirk. “Kitten-"

“Half, Sylus.”

You meet his gaze dead-on. “If you're keeping them housed, I'm paying half. You don’t get to carry the world alone anymore.”

Silence. Then that familiar twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll start sending the money directly to Luke and Kieran myself, and let them know why.”

He groans, grabbing your hand and pulling you flush against his chest, “Emotional blackmail. You’re learning the ropes quickly Sweetie”

“You maybe a great teacher,” you murmur, leaning in pressing a small kiss to his lips. “But I'm a better student”

You decide that you had done enough budgeting for the night as you both find... some completely free activities to engage in that evening. You even tease Sylus reminding him that some of the most fun a person can have can be free.

It took time, frankly more time than Sylus expected, but he eventually recovered access to his funds. Bit by bit, the pieces of his life were restored--falling back into place piece by piece: his accounts reopened, his assets unfrozen, and his name returned to the networks that once again feared to whisper it.

He never said much about how he pulled it off, and you didn’t press. Whatever strings he had to pull, cut, dislocate, or blow up....those were his business.

But something had changed.

He still grumbled every time you dragged him to discount stores and held up two nearly identical sweaters asking which was cheaper. He still looked personally insulted by off-brand anything.

But, despite his looks, his groans, and little sarcastic comments.

Sylus never forgot that strange, cramped season of his life, when the world stopped listening to him, but you never stopped holding him.

And if he ever hadn’t gotten it all back?

Well.

He figures he would’ve been just fine. He is adaptable. But more importantly, it was because even in a shoebox apartment with store-brand cereal and flickering lightbulbs, he’d had something money couldn’t buy.

You

The fierce protection of Miss. Bargain Hunter

This was fun!!! Idk why, but I really love the change in dynamics and the idea of Sylus having to learn to live like a commoner XD XD but yeah XD have a good day

[marshmellowtea]

i'm dying. by the way. if anyone cares..........

[turbo-enid]

I think one of the biggest things that make me homicidal is when my mother walks away and shuts the door while I'm talking.

[eyrieofsynapses]

kept finding our thermostat set to fucking 66°F, resetting it to 70° because what the fuck it's 20° outside, and then... found it set to 65°

this has been going on for like three weeks so finally decided to text housemate group chat and be like "hey so can we figure out a temperature that we can all agree on"

me and third housemate: prefer 70°-72°F and have been setting the thermostat as such

second housemate: is the one setting it to 66°F and, whenever it's set higher, is apparently opening her room windows in 20° weather because 70° is too warm and has not mentioned this to us, somehow

me and third housemate: ...okay we can deal with 68°

me, today, in my room, hands Absolutely Fucking Freezing, shivering, desperately wanting just one more degree of heat: ...maybe I should have let the thermostat wars continue to rage

anyway. evolution why the fuck did you make humans Like This

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Platonic Yandere batfamily x

Child Girlscout reader!! Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

'In a world where you can be anything...Be kind.'

Kindness was like a sickness to Gotham.

People avoided it at all cost. And they mostly had a good reason to. Kindness could cost you your life in gotham.

So instead the people in gotham were a little harsher then most. Some were sweet enough to offer pity but none offered true kindness.

Not even the children in gotham were dumb enough to trust people. Just like their parents they hid from opportunities to be kind.

The richer kids in gotham were cruel mostly because they were spoiled. And kids who didn't have a dime in their name only cared about themselves.

So bruce was surprised when you willingly got in his car. With a smile none the less. Of course you didn't really have a choice he was going to make you get in one way or another.

But Bruce doesn't necessarily think your dumb just a little too trusting with people.

But your not helping with the way you don't even ask how he knows your address.

Alfred sent it to him of course.

You sit happily in the passenger seat with your wet red wagon in the trunk.

And as you talk about various things Bruce can't help but to imagine how you grew up to be so....kind.

Sure your still a kid. But he doesn't know one kid that smile drops at every homeless person they see.

Or how when he asked you what you want to be to grow up you say 'I want to doctor like my mama...so I can help people!' You'd say with the brightest smile.

And gods bruce would do anything to keep light in your eyes bright forever.

He knew how painful Gotham could be especially to the less fortunate and by the looks of your torn up shoes you are one of the less fortunate people.

But that doesn't stop the smile on your face from becoming bigger each time you see a kitten in a yard.

Pulling up to your small house that's in Bruce's opinion not big enough to even be called a house.

But still you smile as the car comes to a stop right infront of your small house.

Hopping out the fancy car that has no business being in a place like this you pay no kind to the nosy neighbors that whisper among themselves but Bruce does.

Walking up to your front porch and pulling out your key from your pocket ,you unlock the door and Bruce pulls your little wagon inside.

The house is small but Bruce has to give it credit it is quite cozy and neat....but far to cold.

"Oh no...." You say as you walk up to the old beaten up thermostat.

Giving the old thermostat a couple of good hits it still doesn't turn on and you sigh as you make your way to your room.

While Bruce just stands in the living room awkwardly as he closes the door.

Walking back into the living room you hand Bruce a blanket thats far to small for him but he takes it anyway.

"The heaters not working agian...so we'll just have to cover up!" You say giggling as if it's funny.

"Again?" Bruce mutters repeating your words.

But as Bruce watched you and how you comfortably sat on the couch with your cover that wrapped around you. You seemed so nonchalant about it. To nonchalant about it.

Because to you this was normal.

Awkwardly Bruce takes a seat beside you on the couch. And you unconscious snuggle up to his side closing your eyes.

Bruce can't help how his heart flutters in his chest at your cute action. None of his kids have ever really wanted to touch him.

Atleast Not without having gone threw something traumatic.

So by you simple snuggling up to his side had made the man feel wanted. No needed.

Looking at the walls Bruce sees some pictures of you and your mother and one with a man.

He doesn't exactly know if he's your father or not but either way Bruce is undeniably jealous of the unknown man.

Oh, what the billionaire would give to be your father instead.

It's not long before your breathing evens out and your passed out snuggling up to Bruce.

It's a peaceful moment but Bruce can't help but think that your still far to trusting. But he's partially thankful for that.

Because he knows if your weren't so trusting he'd never be in this situation right now.

But before bruce can even really enjoy the moment the house phone rings and you jump at the sudden sound.

And much to Bruce's disappointment you stand and up and wipe your sleepy eyes answering the phone.

It was your mom...and she did not sound happy at all.

"Baby how the heck did you get home?!" She says talking so fast you could barely understand her. But you did hear her old car as she drove.

And as you glance at the old clock you see it's 2pm yep she was definitely off her shift now.

Which meant she was on her way home.

"And please baby for the love every living thing on the earth tell me that the neighbors are lying. And that you didn't let a rich man drive you home?!"

Oh now you know she's mad. And you hear her car getting louder through the phone as she hits the gas as if she already knows your answer.

"Mama it was raining.....I was scared." You whine and your mother can't really stay mad at you because it is partially her fault.

And because your far to cute to be mad at.

"Where is the man now baby?" She asks her voice quiet so no one but you could hear.

"On the couch mama...."

She groans and mumbles a quiet "of course he is." Under her breath.

"Pass him the phone baby. I'd like to talk to him for a minute please." She says her voice shaking with fear and anger and you don't dare disobey her.

So you walk up to Bruce and hand him the phone.

Bruce being puzzled and prepared for what the women might say takes the phone and puts it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I don't know who the fuck you are but I swear to every fiber in my fucking body if you even think of touching my baby I'll kill you!" She swears.

And Bruce glances at you and you just give him a nervous smile. And he can't help but notice how diffrent the women in all the pictures sounds then what he would expect.

In all the pictures she looks sweet. Not as sweet as you but with big smiles and happy looks. But as she screams every curse in the world at him he can't see the resemblance.

"I'll be home in literally 2 seconds you better be fucking praying to God you didn't hurt my baby." She says as she hangs up the phone and she was true to her word.

Because before Bruce can even begin to process everything she said she pulls into the driveway. And quickly makes her way to the door.

She hurriedly pushes the front door open ignoring how hard the door hits the wall.

She looks like a crazy woman furious and her eyes almost red.

But Bruce thinks he'd be the same if he where in her shoes.

Your mother's gaze immediately softens at the site of you. And she sighs as you walk up to her.

She deeply inspects every part of you and cups your face. And after she sees that your just fine and haven't been touched.

Her gaze hardens at the sight of Bruce. Bruce sensing the uneasiness of the room decides to speak up.

"Hello ma'am.... I'm Bruce Wayne," He says already prepared to be the good person he is but he's surprised when your mother doesn't reach for his out stretched hand.

And she doesn't even react to his charming smile.

Instead?

Instead she smacks him.

"I know who the fuck you are. And if you ever touch my baby again it'll be your last fucking day." Your mother says and you gasp at the sudden action.

Even Bruce is to stunned to speak. He's more....surprised....and dare be say intrigued?

"Mama he didn't hurt me! He's really nice!" You say trying to stop your mom before things exploded even more.

And as your mom looks at you her gaze softs once more and glancing back at Bruce she feels sort of bad....

He doesn't necessarily look like a bad person.....

And you wouldn't lie...but then again you trust just about anyone.

She sighs going against her better judgment and teaching and let's her guard down.

"I'm sorry....for...hurting you. But you can't just take people's kids without permission..." She says and her hand grips your arm tightly still not trusting Bruce.

And Bruce likes that she's protective of you.

Because he knows he is too.

"It's...alright...if I was in your shoes I'd probably do the same." He says calmly as if the smack didn't faze him at all.

And your mother likes that he isn't being mean about it but forgiving. But still she feels bad and you tugging at her arm and giving her puppy dog eyes isn't helping her case.

She sighs agian knowing exactly what you want.

"How about you stay for dinner...." She says her voice betraying her true want for him to leave.

And Bruce reading the room would normally leave but as he glances at you your already smiling at him silently begging for him to agree.

And of course he couldn't just let you down! So he obviously agreed. Much to your mother's disapproval.

With a sigh your mother nods and mutters a quiet 'make yourself at home' to Bruce before she goes to start making dinner.

You being the absolute sweetheart you are you grab his hand which Bruce gladly let's you take. And he lead him to your bedroom.

"This is where I sleep! This is my bed! My toys which are really my best friends!" You say and your voice gets a little quieter at next words.

"And this is my picture of my daddy....."

Bruce takes a good like at the picture seeing that the picture was recently taken since you looked the same in the picture.

Bruce could almost taste how much he hated the man he knew so little about. Bruce takes in how the man looks having never seen him before.

Since he wasn't on your birth certificate Bruce couldn't find out anything about him. But just judging the man by how he looks. Bruce is definitely not impressed. Especially by how your tone goes quiet as you talk about him.

"Here's only here sometimes...." You say and your mother who had been standing by the door.

Since she definitely did not trust the a random man to be in a room with her baby alone. She speaks up. "Bruce...can you help me out with this?" She says and it's obvious that she doesn't really need anything but you obviously don't catch on by the way you keep staring at the picture of you and your father.

Bruce nods understanding her need to talk to him.

"You just continue playing with your toys baby...foods gonna be done soon okay?" Your mom says in such a sweet tone.

You nod putting down the picture and begin playing with your toy.

Walking into the kitchen your mom hits the thermostat and sighs as it still doesn't turn on.

"Here..let me..." Bruce says and your mother moves out the way letting the man do whatever it is he is doing.

And your mother still keeps her eyes on him as he continues working on the thermostat and she continues cooking.

"How often does this thing not work?" Bruce asks keeping his eyes trained on the thermostat.

"More often then not." Your mother says sighing.

"It's not very healthy for your daughter to be in this cold...especially when she's inside the house." Bruce adds and your mother scoffs.

"Not everyone was born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass." Your mother says as she rolls her eyes.

How dare he comment on what she could barely afford?

Now usually bruce would have something even more harsh to say back. But this time he didn't. Because he didn't want it to turn into a argument.

No, he needed her on his good side.

Atleast for now.

So he'd bow his head and apologize.

"I didn't mean any disrespect..."

"I know exactly what you meant." Your mother snaps and that throws Bruce off.

Because why isn't she buying his facade?

"I'm not dumb. And your not going to stand in my house and try and play me dumb. My daughter isn't a street rat." She says and her eyes are giving Bruce the meanest glare he's ever seen.

And he's quite....impressed.

"I didn't mean-"

"And she ain't no poor kid on the street either." Your mother continues interrupting him.

"She's good. She's a good kid. My kid."

And Bruce agreed to almost everything she said. Yeah you're a good kid.

but soon enough you'd be His kid.

💗Thanks for reading! 💗

Comments, likes ,and reblogs are appreciated!

This was highly requested so I hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @its-simply-just-krys

[differenteagletragedy]

What if you are married to Simon but you still have eyes and Price is right there, what then ↓

It's so hot. The sun is beating down outside, summer in full swing, but inside your house the heat is oppressive. It's suffocating.

"Simon, just call someone to fix it," you whine, walking around until you find your husband with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back, reading something on his phone.

"Don't need anyone to fix it," he mutters, not looking up at you. "Can do it myself."

You groan, because it's painfully clear at this point that he in fact cannot fix it. It's been three days since the air conditioning went out, and three days of Simon trying everything he can think of to fix it. He's been flipping breakers, messing with the thermostat, taking tools to the unit outside, but nothing's worked, because Simon does not know what he's doing.

"I'm going to die," you tell him, sinking down onto the couch. "I'm going to perish and it's all going to be your fault."

You see him smirk, but he still doesn't look up. Instead, he tells you, "You're going to survive this, sweetheart. Going to have it up and running by tonight."

"Why won't you call an actual repairman? Why are you insisting on whatever this is?"

"Cute," he says, finally glancing up at you with a grin. "You're the one who married a stubborn bastard, what do you think?"

You think it's a mix of pride and sheer unwillingness to be outsmarted by a hunk of metal and parts, but you don't say that. Instead, you continue whining.

The next morning, Simon still hasn't figured it out. You tell him more directly, dramatics aside, that you're very uncomfortable and would just like to solve the problem in a normal, reasonable manner.

He makes a deal with you. He's not ready to completely give up and call in outside help just yet. But he will call Johnny.

"Does Johnny know how to repair a heating and cooling unit?" you ask, entirely unconvinced.

He answers, "Johnny knows a lot of things."

A couple of hours later, Johnny comes over, his own tools in tow, and he's brought along a surprise -- Kyle.

You keep your groan to yourself this time and just bring the men drinks while they work. Or, well, while Johnny and Kyle nod while Simon tells them everything he's done that hasn't worked. It doesn't take them long to switch from water to beer, and at this point you're pretty sure you're actually going to die.

"You know," Kyle says at one point, carrying the latest round of empty bottles to the trash, "I think the captain had something like this happen a few years back. I seem to remember overhearing him talking to the missus about it in a call."

"Is that why she divorced him?" you ask. "He wouldn't call a repairman and kept telling her he could fix it himself?"

Simon gives you a look, and you give it right back -- you know you're being cheeky, but the heat really is miserable.

But Kyle only laughs and shakes his head, saying "No, I don't think that's what did it. He got it fixed, I believe, he's pretty handy with things like that."

It's your turn to shoot Simon at look. Your husband shakes his head, twisting the top off another beer, and says, "Absolutely not."

"Simon."

"Sweetheart."

"Please."

An hour or so later, John arrives. And, ever so slightly, the atmosphere shifts. Simon, Johnny and Kyle stand just a little bit straighter, their voices get the tiniest bit more business-like. They're not standing at attention now that the captain is here, it's not that notable, but now it's clear that someone is in charge.

It's cute, you think as you watch them. You smile softly, watching Simon as he gives John a debriefing on everything he's tried so far, and you don't notice that John's eyes linger on you just a fraction of a second longer than what might be considered acceptable.

The captain is the one who finally gets the air conditioning running again, but it's no small effort. From the window, you watch as Price tinkers with something within the unit, and you smile when you hear it kick on, a nearby vent starting the work of circulating cool air through the too-hot house.

"What did you do?" you ask John, a bit of wonder in your voice, when they all come back inside to make sure everything is in order. "Simon's been going at it for days and you got it in half an hour."

The older man gives you a small, tight smile, reaching out to tap Simon's shoulder lightly.

"Just a blown capacitor, love," he tells you. "Easy enough fix."

You return his smile like you always do -- you like John. Always have. It's something, you think, about how similar he can be to Simon. Both men are strong and solid, deeply masculine in a way that's natural, not forced. They both have deep, rumbling voices that you feel in your chest when they speak. And sometimes, though you don't know John as well as you know Simon, of course, you think that the captain has something wild in him, too. Some kind of ache that runs deep through him, one that he's muzzled and tamed long ago.

Your Simon struggles with it still, though less since you married him. It's why he still wears a mask on the job, and why he wrestles, on a base level, with the idea of being seen.

John, you think, wears a different kind of mask. You can see it when he comes over for dinner some evenings, in the way that even after a full meal, dessert and a glass of scotch, the tension stays in his shoulders. You've never seen the man relaxed, and from what Simon's said of him, he hasn't either. It's his tight grip on control, of himself and those around him. He clings to it.

"Is that thing really working?" Johnny asks, grabbing another beer. "It's still hot as hell in here."

"It'll take a while to cool down, but it's working," John answers.

He's as sweaty as the others, but he doesn't complain. Instead, he lifts the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his face. You look down -- your eyes just tracking the motion, you tell yourself -- to see his belly bared, covered in a thick coating of dark hair and just the slightest bit soft.

When you pull your eyes back to his, he's giving you a grin, but if he caught you staring, he doesn't say anything.

"You wanna get Price a drink?" Simon asks, smirking at you. "For saving your life and all."

You nod, turning back to the kitchen, pulling out the scotch you keep just for him and trying to clear your head.

Sure, John is an attractive man. So is Kyle, so is Johnny. And for that matter, so is Simon. Your husband.

But still, when you return to the group of men gathered in your living room, your fingers brush against John's as you hand him the drink. And you can't help but think about what that beard would feel like against your cheek, between your thighs. How it would feel if, even for just a little while, you were the thing he felt that desperate, innate need to control.

[barleyo]

Frostbitten, Forbidden.

Hector Condicionado X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: another one shot with my favorite cretin. he's so lovely, i just want to eat him in one bite. hope you enjoy reading this!

Tags: dub-con, p in v, creampie, lots and lots and lots of dirty talk, sensory deprivation (eyesight)

Wordcount: 1.1k

Hector would do anything for you. He made it abundantly clear. From the moment you met him, or rather, from the moment he saw you, he knew he would make any sacrifice, any oblation, just to make you happy. No, he didn't want to make you happy—he wanted to keep you happy. A constant state of pleasure and contentment, all due to his own efforts. 

If you were tired, he would build you a bed frame with his bare hands. If you were bored, he would come up with a story to rival the telling of Shakespeare on the spot. Sad? Paw at his vent and tell him all about it. 

Fuck, he would slice his own palms and use the blood to write one of his novels for you if you wanted to do some light reading.

The only thing he couldn't do for you right now was turn up the heat. His only purpose, his one job, he simply couldn't do. Whether there was some sort of blockage in the air filters or a malfunctioning motor, nothing seemed to be working. 

Dead winter and not a single puff of air to ease your pain. 

It tore him up inside more than you would ever know, watching you toss and turn in bed, layering yourself in blankets that hardly helped. He tried for days to fix it himself. He borrowed tools from Tony, but hell if he knew what he was doing. Bang a wrench against the grate? Plead with the thermostat to co-operate? 

He felt like mold. Worse, actually. At least mold gave the world penicillin. What was he giving his beloved? Hypothermia? 

Your poor, freezing legs kicked under the thin covers in discomfort. He knew he had to do something, and he had an inkling of where his mind wanted to go, but it just seemed risky.

Then again, he'd take any risk to satisfy you. 

Your body was shaking inconsolably at this point. You were miserable. Days of straight ice and still air were starting to get to you. Truly, you were convinced it was colder outside your home than in it, but you wouldn't run the chance of finding out. You wanted nothing more than to drift into sleep, but it was too cold to even hope for a good night's rest. 

Just as you began to give up, you felt the bed dip beside you. That wasn't right. You lived alone. 

You tried to scream, but a quick hand covered your mouth. Was this the end? Jesus, why you?

"Hush, my love, it is I."

Oh. 

You slacked in Hector's grasp. You had heard his voice many times, and although it sounded a bit different outside of the vent, you still felt its comforting tones wash over you. That didn't change your confusion. Why was he out of the vent?

As if he could hear your thoughts clicking, he answered, "I couldn't stand to see you like this. Suffering, when I can do something about it."

You hummed against his palm in understanding. Your eyes flicked across the wall in front of you as you laid on your side. You wanted to flip over and see him. You tried to resist the urge, to respect his privacy, but your body acted on its own.

Hector quelled your movements sharply, firm hand turning your head to face the wall again. 

"You know I cannot have that." His calloused hand covered your eyes instead. He cupped his palm over them to keep you both literally and metaphorically in the dark about his appearances. "Don't focus on anything but my warmth. Let me help you, amor."

He hastily fidgeted with his belt, popping the buckle with overly eager hands. 

"Let me make everything up to you. Please."

"Don't you know what it does to me to have this power over you?" 

Hector had gotten much more into this than he thought he would. Obviously, a chance to get this close to you, to touch you, was heaven, but to have complete control?

This was the stuff of fantasy. 

Total domination, zero vulnerability. An opportunity to act on all the depraved things he had said to you in the vents without the fear of being judged for his looks? Sign him up.

"To have you at my mercy? To have all of your trust?" He bottomed out, pushing your face into your pillow. Gentle, as to not hurt his precious girl. "I've wanted this for so many moons. So much wasted time—god—if I knew it could be like this..."

You moaned a strangled little noise into the fluffy pillow. He hated not being able to hear the full extent of your pleasure, but there would be time for that another day.

"That's right," Hector said, voice syrupy and warm as he spoke to you, "I would've taken you much earlier."

His hands gripped your hips and forced them upwards. He dreamed about this. It nearly felt like deja vu, seeing as how he thought of bending you into these nasty positions many times before. It was almost too good to be true. 

"Maybe I would have snuck out of the wretched vent early in the morning to visit you." 

What a tease.

"Or maybe late at night. Late when you think nobody hears you, touching yourself in the dark." His hips stuttered. He didn't want to cum yet, not until you did. He wouldn't forgive himself if he messed up yet again. "I hear you. I hear every sound, every little noise you make. I turn the air up. Make it nice and loud, so nobody else gets to enjoy the show you put on."

Despite the slight uncomfortableness of the angle he put you in, you could see why he did it. He was hitting deep. Deep and purposeful. It was too much for you to handle, especially with his teasing. 

"If only you would have asked me for help. I would've been out in a heartbeat." 

A sexy, but flagrant lie. The sweet vent-dweller took to hiding deep in the vents when you masturbated, stroking himself recklessly while trying to silence his breathing. He was far too nervous to actually do anything about it and far too ashamed of eavesdropping. 

"Next time you need pleasure," he choked out, feeling your gummy walls flutter around him, "call for me."

If he had any shame in the current moment, he'd be horrified at how quickly he came after you. He was simply waiting for your body's permission before he blew.

"I'm always here for you, love."

[l1tw1ck]

Simeon's Devotion

Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God

AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping

You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.

Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.

“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”

“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”

“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.

“30?! Did something attract them?”

“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 

“That's strange..”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”

“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”

You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”

“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.

Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.

Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.

“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.

He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”

“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 

He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 

“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.

“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”

“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”

“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.

“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 

“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.

“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.

Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 

“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.

You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.

You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 

You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.

He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”

You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 

The true representation of his sin.

He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.

“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.

Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.

“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 

“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 

“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”

“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”

“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.

“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.

“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.

He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.

“Hm?”

You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.

You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.

You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”

Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”

“It's okay. I’ll make it.”

“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”

“Protecting my town is more than enough.”

“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”

Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.

“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 

“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.

“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”

“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.

“Please…please don't hate me.”

“How could I hate you?”

“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.

“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.

“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.

You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”

Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”

“No.”

He bites down on his nail. “When?”

“Um…maybe a decade ago?”

“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”

“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.

Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”

“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”

“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”

“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”

Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”

“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.

“I…I’m not letting you leave.”

Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.

He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?

He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”

You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.

[devswritingcornerorsmth]

Yandere!Hector/Reader Headcanons

i was writing a fic but my computer crashed and deleted 1.7k words of fanfic so I'm making headcanons instead to give me motivation to rewrite the fanfic!

tw: stalking, obsessive behavior, suggestive content, hector being creepy, hector talking bad about himself, mentions of somophilia (nothing ever happens but hector thinks about it), gaslighing, dead dove content

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!! if you find any of the content above triggering, PLEASE do not read!! if you click, read, and become uncomfortable or smth don't blame me, i tried to warn you.

= The first time Hector sees you, he knows that you're the one. Out of everything, you came up to him first, turning on the thermostat to cool yourself off from the heatwave. He did as you commanded, gently blowing out a nice, cool breeze as you worked in your office. He couldn't help but stare at you as you worked, resting his head in his hands.

= He's both excited and horrified when you scan him after so long of waiting and watching everything you do. Hector doesn't introduce himself just yet, staring at you from the grate until you're about to walk away. He calls out for you and apologizes for not saying anything. He greets you and is surprised when you respond positively.

= Speaking with you was the highlight of his week, hell, maybe even his life. Hector follows you back to your room through the vents, watching you get ready for bed before laying down.

= A surge of jealousy goes through Hector at the thought of Betty holding you. It should be him! He should be down there, cuddling you, keeping you, touching you, loving you... But he knew he could never. You would find him ugly and never scan him again, maybe replace him.

= Hector fantasizes when all the objects are Realized, leaving just him and you. They wouldn't be able to stop him from loving you how you should be loved. He thought about when Dorian leaves, how he'd be able to finally sneak out and touch you as you slept. He had to take a moment when he realized how horrible that thought was, covering his mouth as if he were about to vomit. It was your fault you were making him feel like this, but he didn't want to stop feeling like this. You were a drug that could make him sober.

= His stalking grew more intense and bolder, almost getting caught a few times by the other objects. Hector never takes anything; he can't when your clothing is sentient or when your trash hoards it away. He ends up stealing from Fantina's shrine, causing her to scream and freak out, accusing everyone in the gym room.

= Speaking of the gym, it's always nice and cool in there, so you never use Fantina, just him.

= Hector loves when it's warm outside, watching you get all hot and bothered before you have to turn him on and save you from the blistering heat. He will sometimes tease you and not turn on, watching you sweat and walk around in loose clothing. He quickly turns it on when you start heading up to the attic to see what's wrong.

= When you're gone, he makes the house a living hell, turning up the heat to extreme temperatures to make everyone miserable. Everyone becomes irritable and sweaty, blaming you for leaving the heat on. Hector does feel bad when some of the objects snap at you, like Freddy and Mac. Skylar has to step in to calm a few of them down and explain that it couldn't have been you since Dorian, Curt, and Rod saw you leave without touching the thing.

= When/if you confront Hector about it, since he's the HVAC system, he lies and apologizes, his voice shaky. He doesn't want you to be mad at him, please don't be mad at him, he's only doing this because he loves you!

= Whether you believe him or not is up to you, but you tell him not to do it again.

= The other objects start to feel worried. They can sense the change in the house. The objects you're close to tell you to be careful, that something is wrong, and to keep an eye out.

= Hector tells you not to listen to them, telling you that everything is normal. He can see all over the house, and everything is fine! Just stay with him. Stay close to him. Please.

---

it's late and i got a HUGE headache so i miiighhttt post a part two to this if i feel up for it idk jaybe jaybe not.

thanks for reading mwah mwah sorry about creepy hector

[pipwritesoccasionally]

two little lines

toji x reader

in which you find out that you're pregnant and fear toji's reaction.

because of pregnancy this is technically an AFAB!reader, but I did my best to keep it gender neutral. though I did use the pet name "doll" (sorry it feels so toji), and I don't exactly know if it's gender neutral.

despite this technically being AFAB, if you're AMAB and want to read I am not here to yuck your yum.

wc: 1551

look at me mixing it up with a toji fic after three straight nanami fics!

parts: 2 3 4 5

______________________________________________________________

two little lines. all it took to seemingly destroy your entire life was two little lines on a pregnancy test. 

sure, it had been two months since your last period, and sure, you were in a long-term relationship, so pregnancy was something that was technically plausible. however, you just couldn’t fathom how you had been so careless. i mean, having two kids was enough, but a third? 

no, your husband was definitely going to leave you, and the thought of it made your heart clench. 

‘fuck,’ you thought, vision blurring. ‘everything is just going to end because of two stupid fucking pink lines?’ 

you’re lucky toji was off on some other random bounty hunt, giving you time to hide the test before going to pick megumi and tsumiki up from school. the floorboards creak as you run to the kitchen, throwing the test in the box with your favorite snacks, knowing toji would never look inside it.  

silence fills the house, creating a sharp juxtaposition with the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. there has to be some way to calm down before going to get your stepkids. you tried everything you could think of, from splashing cold water on your face to walking around to holding an ice cube in your hand, until eventually you got to a point where you felt like you could pretend. 

keys, wallet and stress in hand, you got in the car and headed to their elementary school. the kids were there, standing on the curb, and you waved as you approached. there seemed to be an argument before tsumiki opened the passenger-side door, megumi grumbling as he slid into the backseat. 

“how was school?” you asked, and the kids scrambled to talk about what they learned, from the different types of clouds to their times-tables. 

“it was super fun and the teacher said that we have a new project coming up about the types of clouds! we get to make diaramas of them and it sounds really fun!” tsumiki exclaims, the smile evident in her voice. 

“that does sound fun! you’ll have to tell your dad all about it when he gets home,” you feel your brows furrow at the mention of toji, but you quickly resume your role of the happy guardian so as not to cause any problems. 

the house comes into view minutes later, and megumi runs inside. you turn to get out before tsumiki sighs softly. 

“wait,” she says, and you turn to her. “is something wrong?” 

‘curse her for being so observant,’ you think, but you shake your head quickly. 

“nothing for you to worry about, just worried about your father, as always,” which technically is not a lie, just not fully the truth. 

“oh, well you know that he’ll be okay! he’ll be back and then he’ll stomp around the house talking about those ‘damn sorcerers’-” tsumiki deepens her voice to imitate her father, but you stop her. 

“hey! watch your language!” she opens the door and runs inside, laughing the whole way, and you smile softly. you really do love those kids, even if they aren’t yours by blood. 

the house is cold when you enter, and you make your way towards the thermostat. however, before you can even turn the temperature up, a sour taste climbs up your throat. you feel sweat drench your brow, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re going to throw up. 

you run up the stairs, throwing yourself in front of the toilet to empty your stomach. footsteps pad up the stairs, and you feel a little hand rubbing against your back. 

“(y/n)? are you sure you’re okay?” tsumiki’s soft voice brought tears to your eyes, more running down your cheeks as you retched. it took a minute or two to get everything out of your system before you sit back on your heels. 

“sorry, i guess i’m a little sick. we should have some microwavable meals in the fridge, do you think you could make some food for you and megumi?” she nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. 

‘he’s going to find out soon,’ you worry, brushing your teeth to rid the awful taste from your mouth. ‘i guess i should get some rest so i don’t have to face him when he comes home.’ 

you sink into your shared bed, blankets reaching out to hug your body, and you drift off to sleep. 

the bed sinks, pulling you out of your slumber. you begin to turn to face your husband before you’re reminded of the events from earlier. your pulse is rapid, and you think about pretending that you’re still asleep before toji speaks. 

“hey doll. ‘miki said that you weren’t feeling well earlier. you’re not hurt, are you? i can handle whoever it is for you.” you smile at the softness he only displays for you, but how can you explain that the person causing you stress is none other than him?

“i’m okay. it’s probably food poisoning or something. you did cook dinner last night,” he frowns, groaning lowly. 

“i’m not that bad. the brats said it was fine enough,” you laugh at him, burrowing into the blankets. your husband slides his shirt over his head, revealing his broad shoulders riddled with muscles and scars. mindlessly, you reach out to caress him softly, and he slides into bed beside you. while normally you’d ask to lay on his chest, you’re worried being that close would make him aware of your irregular pulse. 

“goodnight babe,” you say, curling back into yourself and closing your eyes, knowing that if you look at him now his confusion would cause the truth to tumble out. 

“night doll,” he hesitates, weight settling in on the other side of the bed. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you wake up to a quiet house, something that sets you off immediately. two elementary school aged kids does not bode well for a quiet house, and so you sit up, reaching to your right to find toji’s side of the bed cold to the touch. 

‘okay, something’s up.’ 

you walk down the stairs to the kitchen, calling out for the kids, only to see that their shoes aren’t by the door. toji’s in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. 

“hey babe, where are the kids?” you normally get them off to school, but it seems that maybe you’d slept in late. 

“they’re at school,” he says shortly, taking you aback. 

“okay. sorry i slept in, i must have been really tire-” you stop when you step into the kitchen, seeing your positive pregnancy test on the counter. the whole world freezes, and you can feel everything crashing down. 

“oh that? yeah, it was weird. i tried to bring your favorite snack to you in bed when the box was making a weird sound. found that at the bottom.” he gestures haphazardly, cracking the dam holding the next wave of your anxiety back. 

“it’s a friend’s-”

“don’t bullshit me. were you even going to tell me?” his voice is low, eyes piercing. 

“toji-” 

“were. you. going. to. tell me.” he enunciates. 

“i didn’t know how! i mean seriously, you have two kids to worry about, the last thing you need is a fucking baby! i get it, it’s over. i’ll go get my shit,” tears are running down your cheeks as you tear out your heart with your bare hands. you turn to leave, making your way upstairs, when a hand grabs your wrist softly. 

“wait–doll. fuck.” he turns you to face him. “you don’t have to leave.” 

“of course i fucking do. should probably go now before the kids get back. i don’t want them involved.” you take another step, but his grip remains firm. 

“i said you don’t have to leave. the brat’s mine too.” 

“wait. you want to keep it?” he looks to the side, rubbing his other hand against his neck. 

“of course i fucking do,” he mirrors, and your eyes widen. 

“you mean…you’re not mad?” 

“i’m mad you didn’t tell me, not about the brat.” your eyes water, and before you know it you’re sobbing into his chest. 

“what is this all about? you really have such a low opinion of me to think i’d kick you out?” his voice rumbles through his chest against your ear. 

“you’re just so busy, and i thought…i thought that you would be mad,” you sob even harder, not knowing where the emotions end and hormones begin. 

“so what? i’d just kick you to the curb?” 

“i mean, you have two kids already…maybe a third would be too much.” he starts to chuckle, causing you to pull away from him. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“that you seriously thought i’d kick you out. i don’t break promises, doll, and marriage is just a big promise. besides, you’d probably get custody of the brats. they like you more than me.” 

you run your hands over your face before reaching out to play with his hair. 

“you’re really not mad?” you repeat, and he rolls his eyes.

“no dumbass. besides, i can’t let any other men see how hot you are carrying my kid.” you snort, circling your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

“love you, toji.” 

“love you too, doll.” he says, your lips meeting.

[lokigodofmyheart]

RED FLOWER

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 1.939

Summary: Tony and Y/N went to a mission together.

Warning/Content: smut, sex pollen

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Rogers said the base was abandoned and there was no reason to go the whole team, so Y/N and Tony were the chosen ones to go. As they stepped off the jet and walked to the base, they were meet with a field of red flowers. 

“This is...odd.” Y/N says as they walk in the grass. 

“Seems like every HYDRA base we've raided. But I agree, kinda weird to have a garden.” Tony picked one up in his hand. 

Y/N looked at him, rolling her eyes “Really? You’re picking the weird HYDRA flower?” 

“It's a flower. Not gonna hurt me.” Stark says, looking at the flower in his hand and then at her “You worry too much...” He brought the flower closer and sniffed it “It smells nice.” 

“Don’t smell the flower, Stark!!” Y/N could not believe he was doing that. Was he stupid or something? “What if it’s poisonous?” 

Stark rolled his eyes looking at her “Nothing is going to happen, relax. You're being paranoid.” 

“It’s HYDRA, I’m not being even enough paranoid.” 

Tony laughs as they kept waking to get in the base, with the flower on his hand “You really think they'd make a flower that kills people? That's a little ridiculous.” he teased, waving the flower in front of her face.  

She pushes his hand away from her face. He was right, the flower did smell nice “I swear, if I die because you made smell a flower...”  

“You will not die.” he shoved it into her face, chuckling. Y/N, again, pushed his hand away from her face. 

“Let’s get over with this mission, I’m feeling a creepy vibe from here.” She says, as they kept waking. Inside of the base, most of the floor was covered in grass and the same flower.  

“Did they decide to start a flower shop or something?” he said as he looked at the sea of flowers in front of them. Stark had to admit that Y/N was right, that seems creepy. 

Y/N took a deep breath while they walk. The whole place smelled like the flower “Something’s not right here, Stark...the base is abandoned and full of flowers?” 

“You won’t die because of those flowers.” Tony says, rolling his eyes once again. 

“But what if we do?”  

“You won’t. We won’t. Relax. It’s creepy, but they won’t kill us.”  

They started to walk more into the base, checking the rooms, but all they found was empty places, totally abandoned and again, full of flowers. As they kept checking, they start feeling the temperature rising.  

Tony was the first one to speak “Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?” 

“No, it’s hot...” Y/N noticed thermostat on the wall, and when she saw it was the same temperature that before, she found even weirder “Huh...” 

Stark pulled a little at the neck of his shirt, a bit uncomfortable “Yeah, something is definitely wrong.” 

Finally, they found a room that wasn’t empty, just abandoned. There was a few computers and papers. Y/N looked at Tony “Let’s see if we find anything so we can go.” Tony agreed, going to check the computers, but none of them worked. He was getting more and more frustrated with this mission.  

Y/N kept looking at the papers in front of her, until she found something. It wasn’t good. Not even a little. “Uh...Tony?” 

“Yeah?” He says, getting closer to her. 

“What exactly are you feeling?” 

“I don't know... hot? Really uncomfortable...” he mumbled, tugging at his pants. Y/N looked at the paper and then back at him, and her face wasn’t good. “What is it?” 

“So...that flower is the reason this place is abandoned. According to these papers here, they tried to make one and they started multiplying faster than they could control...” 

“And...?” Tony looks at her curiously, he knew that was more. 

“And this flower release an... aphrodisiac pollen...” 

“What?” he paused, looking at her confused “Are you telling me these flowers release a... sex pollen?” 

Y/N nods, looking at the paper “Oh, and hear that. They kill you if you try to resist the effects.” She glares at him. “Who would thought the weird flower at HYDRA base would kill us...” 

Tony took a deep breath, assimilating the new information “Okay, so maybe you were right...” 

“Maybe??” 

“Don't rub it in.” he mumbled, feeling hotter by the second “This thing works stupidly fast too...” 

She nods, agreeing “We’re still exposed to the pollen. We have to get out of her and go back to the compound, maybe Bruce can think of something...” 

Stark nodded, trying to control himself as they started to walk towards the exit. Every step he took was a struggle “Sounds good. God, I feel like I had a whole pack of Viagra.” Y/N chuckles, but she wasn't feeling any better than him. Walking got very difficult to Tony as he started to get increasingly more uncomfortable and his mind started to wander. He started to look at Y/N bit too often, trying to ignore the thoughts he was having. 

It didn't take long for them to reach the jet, and as soon they were in, Y/N was already speaking “JARVIS, home. Now.” 

“JARVIS, how long until we get home?” Was Tony’s time to ask. 

“Forty minutes, Mr. Stark.”  

“Forty minutes?” he groaned, getting more uncomfortable. His jeans were feeling very tight, and he could feel his cock already hard enough and throbbing with need. Y/N didn't miss the tent on his pants. She was having trouble with how drenched her panties were and seeing Tony that hard wasn’t helping her need. 

He was trying not to move too much, but the uncomfortable feeling was starting to get really bad. He wanted, no, NEEDED to do something “Turn around.” 

“What?” Y/N was already out of breath, the arouse making hard for her to think of anything. 

“Just, turn around.” he said in a deeper, raspy voice. 

“That won’t help and you know it.” 

Tony groaned, feeling more frustrated” I know. But I need to do something, so please, just turn around.” he begged with a very obvious plead in his voice. 

Y/N did what he wanted. She could hear when he opened his pants and when it fell to the ground. She could hear the low moan he let when he touched his cock and she could hear in the silent jet the sound of his hand masturbating himself. She tried to do the same, opening her pants and letting her hand slide in her folds. Her panties were already ruined when she starts touching herself. It didn’t help. Not her, not Tony. If anything, just made them feel even worse. 

“This isn’t helping...” Tony says, breathing hard already, still stroking himself. 

“No...” Y/N answers with her hands still in her pants. 

He took a deep breath “God, why is this taking so long? JARVIS, how much time?” 

“Thirty minutes, sir.” Came the electronic voice. 

Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath again “Okay...thirty minutes...we can survive thirty minutes, right?” 

“We won’t.” Y/N sighs “We will burn from inside out and when we land, we will be already dead...” 

He swallowed hard, the thoughts going through his head were making everything worse “I need to- need to do something...” 

“The only way is if we fuck.” 

“Well, I ain't arguing with you there.” he said with a slightly deeper voice, very clearly struggling to stay still and control himself “Come over here...” 

Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She turns back to him, seeing his cock free and hard and walked to him. He groaned the second she was close enough, feeling his heart racing. He put his hand on her hips and pulled her on him, making Y/N fall straddling him. He bit his lip to control himself, putting his arms around her waist as he moved involuntarily his hips. 

She let out a soft moan, not wasting any time to undress him. It was a blurry as they took each other’s clothes and, in a minute, she was naked on his lap, feeling his cock brushing against her pussy. He groaned feeling her wetness on him, before he let his lips find her neck and started kissing a sensitive spot. A low moan came out of her lips, and her hips involuntarily rocked against his, needing the friction. 

He started to pant, kissing the sensitive spot a bit harder while he holding her hips in a firm grip, starting to guide her movements as he was getting impatient. 

“Tony...I need you.” She says in a moan. 

“I need you too...” he panted, moving his hand on the back of her thigh to support her as he stands up and back her on the jet wall. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her on the wall. He looked at her one last time to make sure she was okay.  

Y/N gave him a small nod and Tony didn’t waste any time to align himself with her entrance and slowly entering her. She let out a moan and Tony groans, the feeling much more intense than any sex they had before because of the pollen. 

Tony looked at her, watching her reaction as he pulled almost all out and then in. Y/N moans again. He tried to be slow at first, but the pollen was making so hard that without noticing, he was thrusting on her hard and fast, losing the gentleness, grabbing her hips a little harder. 

His mouth found the spot on her neck again, sucking on the skin. He had his mind going blank, everything he could focus on was the pleasure he was feeling and how good she felt around him. 

“Tony...” She moans his name “I-I’m...” 

He knew what she wanted to say. Hell, he could feel her tightening around him already “Cum for me...”. Y/N barely holds another second before she clenched around his cock, making Tony moan at the feeling. She arched her back from the wall was she moans his name.  

Her orgasm and the pollen made it for him. He came right after her, holding her even tighter on his body and thrusting on her as he rides out his climax. Tony collapsed back on the seat, keeping Y/N's leg around him. They were breathing hard after the intense sex they had, but now they didn't feel the pollen anymore. It worked. Tony was trying to breath normally again, still having her on his lap.  

He ran his fingers through her hair, while he looked at her “God...that felt good...” Y/N only nods, not trusting her voice after that intense orgasm she had. “You okay?” he asked, pulling her hair out of her face. 

Y/N nodded again “...you?” 

“Yeah...yeah...I'm good...” he smiled a little, pulling her a bit closer “Tired as hell, but good.” 

“Sir, we’ll be landing in five.” JARVIS says, interrupting their moment. 

He nodded “Thanks, Jarvis...We better get dressed, before the rest of the team sees us like this.” Y/N gave him a nod, before she pulled herself out of him, still feeling her legs a little weak. Tony looked at her and chuckled, not even trying to hold back his smirk “Your legs are shaking, huh?” 

“That was the pollen, not you.” She says to tease him while they got dressed. 

Tony walked to her with a lust in his eyes I’m more than welcome to prove you wrong when we land.” 

“Your room or mine?” She smirks. 

He returned the smirk “Mine.” 

[pisstintedglasses]

Diary of a Horny Man

Landlord!Park Jongseong-Jay x Tenant!Reader

warnings: BDSM, unsafe sex (don't copy them), dacryphilia, begging, brat, POV, rough sex, daddy dom!Jay, loud af, dubcon, cnc

Chapter 1 - Moved in

Stacks upon stacks of moving boxes lay unopened on the floor of your new apartment. You've longed for the simplicity of living alone in a cramped space in the bustling city, especially since you grew up with a large family that was all up in your business. No privacy whatsover. So imagine your joy when you went apt hunting and immediately found a cozy, cheap, and efficient one. 

It came with the perks of having a small bakery ran by a sweet old couple downstairs and friendly neighbors. After going around and meeting everyone before you settled in, you noticed that almost all of the other residents were senior citizens. Every few days you'd be given a fresh batch of cookies or a signature dish of theirs. You were well-loved in your little community. Like a grandchild of sorts.

So why do you feel a sense of unease when you're finally alone? It's been 9 days since you moved in, and you still haven't made a move to add a touch of your essence to your new home. Your picture frames, your books, your porcelain figurines of angels—none of it was displayed on the wooden shelves that adorned the forest-green walls.

You thought it was just because you're still adjusting to the new space since you've never been on your own before. So, you didn't try to rush yourself into it.

•••••○○○○○●●●●●○○○○○•••••

As mentioned before, perks came with your new abode. It isn't limited to just nice old folks who care for you. No. It also gave you a damn hot landlord. His name is Jay, who was about your age. You've heard from the grannies that he used to be the previous owner of the room I was currently occupying.

Apprently, the building was about to get demolished when the former landlord decided to sell the place. All of the poor old residents were at the verge of being evicted. But their homes were saved by this Jay guy when he offered to buy it. So everyone saw him as some sort of hero. 

In a way... he is.

Wait. If Jay was this really compassionate guy who sacrificed a shit ton of money to let a bunch of people keep their homes, why was he so cold to you? When he first showed you the apartment, he seemed so distant.

You were scared that you could say something that would piss him off and you'd lose the deal immediately. But fortunately, he didn't blow a fuse. You thought two things of his angsty behavior. One; that it was absolutely rude, and two; that it was absolutely hot.

You couldn't help but keep looking back at the day he was touring you. //

"Here, not much to see." Jay said as he gruffly unlocked the door. You followed him around the flat which consisted of a living room, a small bedroom with a bathroom in it, and a rustic kitchen with a small balcony attached a few feet next to the stove. "Oh.. okay. It looks nice though." You muttered with your hands clasped politely in front of you. 

 "Yeah, well, the outside's not the problem. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t break anything. The last tenant was a pain. Left the place a mess. You’ll probably have to fix that light fixture, though." He points to a flickering light overhead the door of the hall that separated your bedroom from the kitchen. 

"I didn't realize it was broken—"

 "Well, now you do. You’re gonna need to take care of stuff like that yourself. Don’t come crying to me every time something’s off. You signed the lease."

"I see. Um, what about the heating? It was a bit cold in the hallway."  You were taken aback by his rude demeanor, but spoke nothing of it, instead you inquired more.

"It works fine if you know how to use it. You touch it once, it'll heat up. You’ll figure it out. Just don’t touch the thermostat too much—it’s old." Knocking on the device a few times, he gruffed once more. For a guy your age, he talked like a 40 year old man who's been through shit.

"Got it, thanks... And the neighbors seem a bit loud sometimes. But they're nice. Old people, amirite?" You tried to crack a joke in hopes of diffusing whatever tension Jay has up his ass. It seemingly worked as he chuckled for a brief second. "Yeah, what do you expect? It’s an apartment. People are gonna be loud. You want peace and quiet, go live in the suburbs. I’m not here to babysit your complaints."

I'd rather not.

"Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Is there a maintenance number I can call if—"

"You can call me, sure. But don’t expect a quick response. I’ve got better things to do than fix your sink at 2 a.m. You’re on your own most of the time." He shrugged, as his eyes followed you while you scoped the place.

"Right. Well, I guess I’ll take it then." You said as you ran a hand on the coffee table.

He grinned but he was clearly barely interested.  "Good. Just don’t cause any trouble, pay your rent on time, and we’ll get along just fine. Any issues, take it up with the wall for all I care." 

After he made you sign a few papers, your first interaction ended. You went back to your old house with a new key and a crush on your rude landlord. I mean, who wouldn't find him attractive. Young, clearly knows what he wants, and handsome. It lowkey became one of your excitements about moving in.

•••••○○○○○●●●●●○○○○○•••••

You see him visiting sometimes, being bombarded by grannies shoving a bunch of their treats or hand-knitted scarves in his face in the lobby. It was an adorable sight. He grinned bashfully at the attention before your eyes locked. His smile instantly dropped, and his face turned back to the same gloomy state as when you first met.

It amused you, seeing him put up a tough-guy act when he was draped in a pink beanie, lovingly made by Gale, one of the grannies. Raising a brow, you turned your heel to head back to your room before another Granny—Flor, called out your name. "Join us, dear! All of these aren't for JJ." She mused. You smiled at the nickname before strutting down to join them. After all, who were you to turn down an offer of spending quality time with sweet grannies.

"Good afternoon, ladies," You beamed. In the blink of an eye, a cup of tea was in your grasp and you were sat next to 'JJ', who looked like he wanted to crawl up to a rock and die.

You spent the rest of the afternoon being interrogated by the women. Queries ranging from your middle name to your latest romantic encounter arose. And you were pressured into answering every single one of them.

"Well dear, a pretty girl like you shouldn't be single!" Gale exclaimed as she turned to Jay and placed a wrinkled hand on his forearm. "Jay, you're single too, aren't you? Why don't you take deary over here on a date?" This made everyone pipe down. All the other grannies seemingly rooted for you two. 

Ah, so that's why they called me down. 

Though, you weren't gonna lie, you were curious how he'd react. He didn't even meet your eyes before he abruptly stood up and excused himself, muttering something about drainage as he disappeared to god-knows-where. 

Gale and the others looked at you with apologetic faces, while you sat there with a baffled expression adorning your face. "I'm sorry dear, I shouldn't have said anything. He's just been so stressed after he took over the building, we've been trying to find him a new lady to focus on." 

You just nodded and stared at the stairs where he disappeared from.

After about another hour of gossip, you finally found an opening and excused yourself.

When you finally made it to your room, you sat at the couch and just stared into space.

As your gaze settled in front of you, across the hall that separated your bedroom from your kitchen. You noticed a sharp bulge on the panel of the end of the hall. Upon further inspection, it was a door latch, intentionally covered by the same green wallpaper that garnished the rest of the loft.

"Why have I never noticed before.." you furrowed your brows before glaring at the broken light hanging above you. "I'm blaming you."

Without much thought, your hand reached out to the bulge and traced over it. You were about to pry the wallpaper of before Jay's scowl flashed in your mind, making your hand stop its course of action. 

Maybe this thing was hidden on purpose. I mean, Jay didn't even spare a glance at this when he showed you around. Well if he didn't want anyone to see what was in the hypothetic room, he wouldn't have opened this place up for rent. But what if he caught you? What if there was a dead body in there? What if he kicks you out for snooping around? 

A cacophony of questions transpired in your mind. But you just pushed it all down just in case something bad happens if you let your impulses take over you. As the saying goes, Curiosity killed the cat.

•••••○○○○○●●●●●○○○○○•••••

A thud jolted you awake. Checking the clock on your bedside table, it showed the digits 1:09 am. 

Did someone break in? Different scenarios swirled in your mind and you began to overthink, you heard squeaks. But it didn't seem like it came from your living room, or kitchen, and not from the hall.

Using your rational side, you leaned against the wall of your bedroom that faced the living room, and no sound came from there. So you leaned in the side that was supposedly the end of building. Considering your room parallel to yours on the other wing wasn't occupied. You were shellshocked when you confirmed that the noise stemmed from there, which then moved to the direction of that hidden room. 

Warily, you took one of your box cutters and tippy-toed to the end of the hall. You hesitated once more, but an all-too-familiar grunt steeled your resolve. Gripping the cutter tighter, you traced the sharp end to the outline of the door and steadily peeled the paper away. Low and behold, a door with a pretty but broken latch stood before you.

Before you could second-guess your choice, you quietly unlatched it and pushed the door forward ever-so-slightly, only until one of your eyes could see what was inside. A light flashed your eyes at first, but when you finally adjusted, you were able to see the contents of the room. 

What the fuck.

4 chained leather cuffs hung from the ceiling. Leather gloves, whips, collars, leashes, and other BDSM paraphernalia littered the floor the queen-sized-bed in the middle of the room. On each bedpost, a shorter version of the chained leather cuffs. There was a huge body mirror mounted on the wall right in front of the bed. Next to it, a large wooden dresser that was slightly ajar. 

// To be continued //

The entire series > ksdnbfesb

Chapter 2 - Diary Journal

•••••○○○○○●●●●●○○○○○•••••

HII GUYSS IT'S BEEN A WHILLEEEEE

School fucked me in the ass without lube but now that it's over I can finally write again 👹

I've been stewing ideas for the past couple of months, so stay tuned!

Comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ^^

[ajvocals43]

Country Girl (Shake it for me)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3378

Warnings: Rushed writing (not edited), body image issues, cheesy cliches

Summary: Y/n is in love with Dean, but what happens when she decides to show him what he's missing out on?

A/N: I couldn't let Dean's birthday go by without writing a fic for him. This was done really quickly and hasn't been edited but I've had this idea for a while. I will also say, I didn't add it but if you play Whole Lotta Woman by Kelly Clarkson during the beginning of the bar scene, it hits. That, along with Country Girl by Luke Bryan are what this was based off of.

Hot. That was my only thought as I stepped out of the backseat of the dark chevy impala. I stared up at the western themed motel in the small town in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Dean was freaking out, as per usual when it came to the “Wild West”, and what better place to be for all that than Texas. It’d been a long time since I’d been to the lone star state; not since I was a teenager trading months between my parents. It hadn’t seemed as hot then. Right now, I felt like I was standing on the surface of the sun in my dress pants and blouse that I’d worn to interview families while Dean and Sam went to the Morgue. I really needed some shorts. Really, I needed the confidence to wear some shorts. 

“Is anyone else sweating balls out here?” I asked the brothers who were grabbing their things out of the trunk to head into the room. My question fell on deaf ears as they both continued their conversation inside the air conditioning. They were probably both tired of my complaining since it hasn't stopped since we hit the dry heat earlier this afternoon. I sighed, grabbing my bag, shutting Baby’s trunk and heading into the room. Sometimes we split into 2 rooms but most times there were rooms that had 3 beds, or 2 beds and a cot that we would rotate through each town. This would have been my turn to have a cot but luckily, there were 3 beds lined up against the far wall. I sighed as the air conditioning kicked on and I felt the vent above me start to blow cold air into the room. 

“Better, princess?” Dean called from where he stood at the thermostat on the wall opposite me. I nodded, feeling the cold air chill my skin from the hot summer sun outside, walking over to my bed on the left side of the room. 

“Didn't you grow up in Texas, Y/n?” Sam asked from where he sat on his laptop. “Shouldn't you be used to the heat?” 

“I alternated months. And I never came in August because no sane person comes to Texas in August, Dean!” I called over my shoulder, rifling through my clothes for something that wasn't coated in sweat. 

I heard Dean chuckling behind me as he moved about the room. “Sorry, I don't choose where monsters kill people.” 

“Please, you're just happy you get to wear a cowboy hat again.” I shot back.

“You're damn right I am!” Dean said with a smirk. “And don't forget the boots, either, sweetheart.” 

I rolled my eyes as I went to get out my laptop, unable to stop the smile that crept onto my face. Sam was right, I'd spent a lot of time in Texas growing up and I'd loved it. Times had changed though and while there were pieces I'd always love and miss, it wasn't home anymore.  But I did have to admit, seeing Dean’s excitement made me feel something that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was rare to see him like this and for a second, I just let myself enjoy that, not knowing the next time I would be able to see it. 

Yeah ok, so I'm one of the dumb girls who fell for Dean Winchester. Sue me. I'm not going to go through the whole story of how the brothers saved my life and we became besties but then I started to grow feelings for the elder brother through the endless flirty banter. It's not necessary and I don't want to waste time on it. But it didn't change the facts. I was in love with him. And he didn't even notice me. 

Could I be more of a cliche? 

 Apparently, yes. 

We had a lot of work to do, so we got to putting the stories together and starting on the research for the night. And it took forever, especially considering how tired we all were from the drive into town. We decided to have dinner and call it an early night. 

 We’d spent a couple hours researching and coming up with a plan before Dean announced that he was bored out of his mind and going out. Sam looked at me, we both knew I was going with him. 

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy going out with Dean, I relished and feared the alone time in equal measure. Because on one hand, having time alone with Dean usually meant I got to see parts of him that I don't think he lets others see very often. And that just made me all the more hopeless because it felt like what he told me in these moments connected us on an even deeper level and that I knew him better than any one night stand or past girlfriend ever could. Because I knew the now Dean. The one that had been through hell, purgatory and so much more. I could understand him because I knew he wasn't the same 26 year old hunter that those girls had thought they could fix. I was under no delusions of being able to fix Dean Winchester. He was a fully grown adult and I was not his mother. But I think what kept my unreasonable hope of ever being with him going was that I accepted him. Bad habits, snap decision making, self-sacrificing traits and all. Because he was Dean. And all those broken parts that left scars and tore apart past relationships made him the most caring, courageous and loving person I'd ever known. 

On the other hand though, going out alone with Dean sometimes meant having to deal with broody moods, childish behavior and… picking up girls. Girls who looked nothing like me. I wasn't ashamed of my size…for the most part. I could appreciate my curves most days, but there were times where I struggled not looking like the bartenders or waitresses at the establishments we stopped at. The kinds of girls Dean picked up. He rarely ever went home with girls now, but it still happened. And it was not a fun time for me to sit in the backseat so he could drop me off at the hotel with Sam like I was a kid. Or even worse, when I refused to ride and had to walk or wait for an Uber to come pick me up. Because then, Dean wouldn't leave until someone safe showed up to come get me, and while I appreciated the thought, I did not appreciate the glares from the girls or the feeling like I was a child who couldn't take care of herself. 

Regardless, because we were friends, I wanted to look out for him. I knew Sam got some anxiety when Dean would just up and leave sometimes because you never know what could be lurking in the shadows, especially in our line of work. Or at least that's what he told me. I had the stinking suspicion he just wanted me out of the room because he knew about my feelings for Dean and didn't want to monitor my moping while he was gone. Which was understandable. 

 Dean and I got into our respective sides of the car as usual. Sam normally rode up front in the passenger’s seat, but would sometimes sacrifice the leg room for me when I got car sick. This wasn’t new by any means and yet, my body’s reactions were as if this was the first time we’d been this close together. I was hyperaware of his smell, the sounds of the leather moving and adjusting underneath us, the feel of the engine under me. I rustled through his box of cassettes on the floor before landing on Bob Seger. Dean gave me a look as I switched out the Led Zeppelin that had been in earlier. I shrugged and turned up the volume as the opening notes of Rock ‘N’ Roll Never Forgets came through the speakers. Dean was still giving me a weird look so I ignored him and started singing, waiting to enjoy the feel of the rushing air cooling down the car as we pulled out onto the road. 

Surprisingly, we didn't go to a bar though. Dean pulled Baby into a parking spot in front of a western shop that couldn't have been more than a mile away from the motel. What were we doing here? With the lack of movement on my part, Dean rounded the car and opened my door for me.

 “Come on, Princess. Let's get some gear.” I just stared at him. Why were we here? “You comin?” He asked when I just stared at him in shock. 

“Uh… y-yeah.” I stuttered. I truly didn't expect this from him. I scrambled to get out of the car and follow Dean who had turned with a smile and begun to walk into the store. 

As I entered the store, I got over my shock and figured he probably wanted a hat. Or boots based on the extensive collection that lined 3 of the 4 walls in the store. I followed him for a little before I ventured off to find shorts. The sweating was starting to get uncomfortable and I couldn't last much longer in jeans and dark shirts. I wandered through the racks, attempting to find clothes in my size, of which there weren't as many as I would like. But I did find some. A few lighter material tops and shorts that seemed like they’d fit. But I got distracted (I know, terrible for a hunter) and missed Dean sneaking up behind me. 

“What about these?” I turned to find Dean with a pair of what could barely be considered shorts. And sure they were cute with all their jewels and the belt that was looped through them, but they would no doubt look like underwear on me. 

“You’re funny.” I said as I turned back to what I was looking at. 

“I do.” he agreed, “But what's wrong with these?” 

“Theyre short.” I scoffed. 

“Isnt that the point of shorts?” he asked, seemingly confused. He wasn't wrong. And on good days, they were something I might wear. 

“I see your point. I guess” I said hesitantly. 

“Great! Then let's grab some boots…” he turned and eyed a scrap of fabric that was supposed to be a shirt “and this” he picked it up “and get out of here.” I laughed and followed obediently. 

We picked up some boots because we needed to be “authentic” for some reason and left for the motel. When we got back to the room, Sam was still in the same place we’d left him. “I’d assumed you guys went to get food or something.” He said before turning his computer towards us. “But get this. I think I found what we’re looking for.” 

The rest of the hunt went pretty smoothly. A simple salt and burn, and only Sam got mildly injured from being thrown into a wall. So we decided to celebrate. Well…Dean did. I figured this time I would stay back. 

“Why didn't you go with?” Sam asked from his place at the table. 

“Didn't feel like it.” I shrugged, not looking up from my book. 

“Uh huh.” Sam said. He paused for a while before saying “Y’know, he's not going to know how you feel unless you show him.” 

“Show? Not tell?” 

“Well we all know both of you are terrible at expressing your feelings. So maybe showing would be easier.” At this, he shut his computer and turned to look at me. 

I put my book down. “I love your confidence in me Sam, but you see as clearly as I do what his type is.” I said, trying not to let my sadness show. 

“Maybe…” he drew out, “But I also know my brother.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. 

“It means, you should go to the bar.” Sam said, as if it were that simple. Maybe it was for other girls. The ones who didn't have the history we did. 

“Im scared Sam.” I finally confessed. 

“And?” he asked. “I don't remember you ever letting a man control your life.”  

He was right. I was a total cliche but… to be honest, I loved making people realize they'd underestimated me. The bar wasn't far, close enough to walk even though Dean had taken the car. Sam’s words got me thinking. And while I was terrified of being rejected by him, I felt like I owed it to myself to have a good time, regardless of what or who Dean was doing. 

So it was time to get off my ass and stop moping. I went over to my duffel bag in the corner of the room and found the shorts and top Dean had picked out earlier that week. What better way than to make a man regret than to throw his own choices back at him. I jumped into the shower and pulled on the clothes. It was a lot more skin than I usually showed but… it'd do the trick. The shorts did wonders for my ass and the top the same for my boobs. And while I wasn't fond of my thighs spilling out the bottom with the highest inseam of a short I'd ever had, it was a pretty sexy look. As a hunter, I never wore makeup so I did my hair and was about ready to leave, when at the last minute, I changed my regular thick boots for the cowboy boots we’d gotten earlier that week. It'd been a while since I'd rocked the denim and boots look, I kind of missed it if I was honest. 

And with that, I bade Sam goodbye and walked out the door. When I walked in, it was actually pretty crowded. It must've been a dancing night because when I looked to my right, there were at least 30 people on the floor line dancing. Maybe I'd head over there. But then I spotted Dean at the bar and I made my way over to him, swaying my hips just a little so as to draw a bit of attention from those around me. Maybe they’d see what he was missing. I stopped in front of him and he seemed stunned. Probably surprised that I came out tonight when I'd been adamant about staying in the motel earlier. But then, of course, the bartender returned and started flirting with Dean.

Refusing to let that break my mood, I turned and smiled at someone on the other end of the bar. He smiled back and waved. Just then, the music changed, and I heard the beginning guitar of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl start blasting from the stage. It was one of the few newer line dances I’d kept up with. I'd gone dancing years ago with a friend of mine and she taught me it so I at least knew one modern dance. I jumped up and strutted over to the floor, my steps falling to the beat of the song. 

And wow. In my constant fight against the supernatural, I sometimes forgot how much fun simple things like dancing could be. I lost myself in the moves, getting more into it until I was in the middle of the floor, smiling and laughing with those around me. Throughout the song, I let my worries fade away and let myself embody the spirit of the lyrics. Until it came to an end. I turned around to leave and found Dean had moved from the bar to one of the smaller standing tables that rounded the dancefloor. I made my way over to him. 

“I almost forgot how much fun those are.” I panted, coming off the dance floor. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean answered as he slid a glass of ice water to me across the small table top. “You were a natural out there though.” 

I took a sip and let the cool water slide down my throat. “That? It's really just about getting the repetition.” 

“Nah, I'll leave that to the professionals,” he held his bottle of beer up in a salute to me. “I'm just fine with my place watching.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, looking back to the dance floor. “Who were you watching? The blonde? The redhead?” I tried for nonchalance. 

“You.” I heard him say behind me. It took a second for the word to register. 

I turned around, confused. “What?” 

“I'm always watching you. You know that.” 

Right. I really needed to stop getting my hopes up about things that were not real. “Dean, I appreciate that, but I promise, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself-”

“It's not like that and you know it.” 

“Dean, I-”  I started. 

“Baby, don't make me spell it out for you; you know I want you.” He deadpaned. 

My jaw dropped. There was no way I had just heard that right. “Huh?”

He looked at me silently, waiting for me to wrap my brain around what he was saying, like it wasn't the last thing I had expected to hear come out of his mouth. 

“You…want me?” I asked finally. “Like me, Y/n, me?”

Dean chuckled slightly. “So the teasing wasn't intentional. 

“Teasing?” I asked, bewildered. “What teasing?” 

“The dancing, the flirting, the tight clothes-” 

“Tight clothes?” I blurted. 

“Not like that.” he started. I hadn't realized the sexist connotation to those words as he’d said them. “Sweetheart, you have to have realized what you do to me when you wear those jeans, or leggins, or those deep v tops.” 

“That's because they don't make a lot of clothes that fit bodies like mine.” 

“Really?” his voice dropped. “Cause I'm pretty sure that every stitch of clothes you're wearing, right down to those boots were made specifically to fit every inch of your body perfectly.” He grabbed onto my belt buckle and pulled me, harshly against him. “And to drive me right out of my damn mind.” 

Well fuck me. 

Literally. Please. 

My eyes dropped to his lips. Inches from mine now, I could feel his body heat radiating through our clothes. He leaned down, his right hand moved from my belt up my back and into my hair, grabbing a fist full of curls and pulling gently, drawing my eyes up to his. I licked my suddenly dry lips as I watched him smirk before leaning in slowly, giving me plenty of time to back out. Fat chance of that happening. I raised up on my toes and met him halfway, sealing our lips together in the single hottest kiss I'd ever had. I'd laughed at the amount of girls that gushed over his abilities but holy hell. They were right. I held onto him as we kissed every last breath out of our lungs, only pulling away when it started to hurt. I felt his smile against my own as we caught our breath.  

This was crazy. Absolutely insane. And incredible. “Damn woman.” Dean said, his breaths matching mine. “You drive me crazy.” 

“I know the feeling.” 

“Yeah?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah.” I said dreamily. But my smile sobered as I remembered the bartender. “But what about-” 

“What about what Y/n?” he asked. 

“The bartender?” I asked. He looked at me blankly. “Shes cute.” 

“And?” he asked. “Princess, have you seen yourself?” He made a show of looking me over. “You’d drive any man out of his mind. I'm just lucky you chose to do it to me.” 

“Who said this was for you?” 

His face turned damn near murderous for a moment. “Let them try it and see what happens.” With that, his hand slid down to wrap around my waist and pull me impossibly tighter to him. There would be no doubt to anyone that we were together. “You’re stuck with me now sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart?” I asked, playfully. “Not ‘princess’?” since that seemed to be his favorite name for me as of late. 

“You like that, huh?” he asked gruffly. “Well…you're mine, princess.” And with that, he leaned down to kiss me again. 

Masterlist 

[remyfire]

Ooh subtle smut prompts! "I like being close to you, you're warm" for rabbot, if the spirit moves you?

This was so fun to write!! Thank you, anon :D I hope you enjoy!! Subtle Smut Starters [AO3 Crosspost]

Part of Robby accepting that he is middle-aged has been recognizing how his body is changing. He needs to stretch his legs thoroughly after a shift so they don't get too knotted up and fuck with his knees. He's begun to consider a multi-vitamin geared toward men in their fifties. And, whether he likes it or not, he can't tolerate the cold as casually as he used to. It's not that he isn't familiar with frigid winters—he's lived in Pennsylvania for the majority of his life, before the rising temperatures from climate change began to make themselves known—but he needs to wear more layers for longer. People will have to pry his hoodies and jackets from his dead hands.

He doesn't think on this very often—has instead altered his lifestyle and closet to make more room for extra layers that aren't constrictive—but it comes to him while he's at the movies with Jack, catching a late-night showing of what was supposed to be a decent action flick. He's not sure he should trust critics ever again. The movie isn't engaging. It's not even keeping his mind off of the fact that the theater has him chilled through to the bone, hoodie or not. So while a buxom brunette hangs off the arm of a gung-ho, muscular man at the very tippy top of a building while explosions go off all around them, Robby does everything in his power to blow up the HVAC system with his mind. It does not work.

If he and Jack were at one of their apartments, then Robby would know what to do. Clearly he'd start by messing with the thermostat, if Jack's desire to keep everything just so allowed such a thing. But if that wasn't an option or if he was already cozy right where he was, he'd simply lean into Jack and give him a few good snuggles. Then they'd stay wrapped up together for the rest of the movie. But it's very different when they're in a public theater. It doesn't matter how late it is, there are still people in the room, and whether he'd like to admit it or not, he's afraid of what their response might be to the sight of two grown men cuddled up close. Frankly, he's also concerned how Jack would react if somebody was an asshole. All he needs is his knife-carrying veteran lover to get his dander up.

His nerves do not change the fact that he's shivering, however. He should've worn a sweater under his hoodie, but how could he have known that the theater would be colder than a witch's teat?

When Robby wriggles in his seat for the tenth time in so many minutes, Jack shoots him a look, lips curved in a barely there smirk. "You can go hit the head," Jack drawls under his breath. "Pretty sure I can summarize whatever happens while you're gone."

"There's something to summarize?"

"Sure. And if there isn't, I'll make it up."

"Whatever it is will be a hell of a lot more interesting than this."

Jack huffs a chuckle. "It's brain-rotting entertainment. What more could a guy want?"

In all honesty, Robby...likes being out with Jack like this. It's one of the first times they've gone out together on what is very clearly an official date, not just a prelude to a hook-up. They had dinner before this, and Jack had toyed with Robby's fingers on top of the table, lacing them, not pulling away when the waiter had come to take their order. Call him a fool, but he's in no hurry to leave and break the spell that's settled over him tonight, no matter how shitty this movie is.

He is still cold, though. And if this is a date, then maybe...maybe they could... Maybe it would be all right if they...

Christ, you're a grown man. A doctor. You make major decisions on the fly for a living. Will you just do something?

Robby tries to make it subtle, how he nudges the armrest between them so it lifts up. Though Jack's not touching it, he still turns his head the moment that Robby takes the chance, because of course he does. War vet. He's probably aware of a couple dozen more things than Robby is at any present time. His reflexes are sharper than Robby's and always will be. Just the tiniest change in anything from a patient to apparently an armrest is instantly noticed by his eagle eyes. For his part, Robby keeps staring at the screen, though he knows his cheeks are turning pink the longer that Jack stares at him.

Without a word, Robby finally tilts toward him and rests his cheek on Jack's shoulder. Jack snorts. "What's this about?" he asks softly.

"I like being close to you, okay? You're warm. So sue me."

"Why the hell would I do anything to make you stop?"

Robby blinks. The flush is now traveling down his throat. If nothing stops it, it'll flood into his chest where it'll really embarrass him. Yes, he's a grown man, and yes, he's chronically afflicted by perpetual blushing. He'll consider himself fortunate that Jack just thinks it's cute, even though it means Robby has to suffer so much teasing about it while Jack's spreading him out in his bed (okay, so maybe it doesn't make him feel that bad).

Before Robby can fashion a reply, Jack murmurs, "Here," then unzips his own hoodie. He's only wearing a thin white t-shirt beneath it. How he survives, Robby has no idea. The miracle of genetics and all that. Robby lifts his head long enough for Jack to shrug the garment off, but when Jack offers it to him, Robby doesn't reach for it. "C'mon, just put it on," Jack murmurs.

"It's not gonna fit," Robby insists. Jack's arms are thicker than Robby's, but Robby is overall stockier than his lover.

"Not if you don't try it, that's for sure."

Robby rolls his eyes. The heat's trickled into his chest. Never once has he had someone remove something they're wearing and offer it to him. That's always been his job. He can still name the exact scent of half a dozen women who he's dated, how he'd lend them his jackets, then bury his face in the sweet-smelling fabric once they were returned and he was alone. Jack dangling it in front of his face is enough to turn him into a flustered mess.

Jack scoffs. "Fine." Then he drapes it over Robby's lap. He throws an arm around Robby's shoulders next and pulls him back in with a chuckle. "What, are we gonna have to start bringing a blanket everywhere we go, old man?"

"Old—" Robby lifts his head and shoots him a look, trying and failing not to be stirred by that smug expression he's wearing. "Oh, fuck you very much. Y'know, your chances of getting laid tonight are decreasing by the second."

Jack does not look the least bit intimidated. Whatever power Robby might've had to bring him to heel disappeared years ago. "Mm, that's a shame," he murmurs. "What if I get you laid instead, how 'bout that?"

"I just told you—"

"No, no, I won't get anything out of it. Only you will." He rests his hand high on Robby's thigh; lava bubbles up on that very same spot.

They both know that the minute Jack makes Robby come, all playful reluctance to let Jack do the same will be thrown to the wind. It's maybe kind of pathetic, actually, how quickly Robby will spread his legs or open his mouth nice and wide for Jack while his orgasm is still rolling through his veins. But what's he supposed to do? Act like he doesn't want the guy inside of him every second of every day? The one he's pretty sure he's in love with? Robby's done the whole island-unto-himself thing. He's sick of it.

Robby shivers—he feels disgustingly fond of Jack when his response is to hold Robby closer—and takes a shaky breath. "Wanna cut our losses and head out?" he asks, already prepared to grab Jack's bag and get the hell out of dodge.

Jack's lips twitch, eyes sparkling. "What's your hurry? We paid to see a movie, didn't we? We've still got at least a half hour left."

"No way. Are you honestly enjoying this shit?" Robby's brows shoot up.

Jack shrugs. "Maybe it'll redeem itself in the end."

"Yeah, by killing the guy off so we don't have to listen to him screaming every time he lays into somebody."

Jack's hand slides a little higher, bringing all of Robby's thoughts to a stop. "We don't have to go anywhere for me to keep you warm, that's all I'm saying."

Robby's heart skips a beat, then thunders onward. "You're not serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Even higher still. Another inch and he'd be able to feel Robby's dick through his cargoes. As Jack tips his head with playfulness radiating from his intense gaze, he takes his hand on a detour, moving to the side so that he can slip under the hoodie in Robby's lap. Then he gives his pocket a little tug.

He is, in fact, very serious. Fuck. Robby turns around, craning his neck, wide-eyed, making a note of the location of the other three people in the theater. Two of them are making out so feverishly in the back that Robby'd be surprised if they hadn't beaten them to getting their hands in each other's pants. There's a woman with a massive tub of popcorn who seems more than happy to have an entire row to herself, sprawled out like she owns the place. They're nowhere near Jack and Robby. Not even close.

When Robby looks back at Jack, he's biting his lip, and he knows that gets Robby going, the way it makes him look a little bit like a dirtbag, like a guy who just took Robby out so he could get his dick wet. Jack leans in until his exhales tickle Robby's lips. "What do you say, babe? You want me to play with you, don't you?"

Robby nods quickly enough to make his neck ache. Of course he wants it. Of course he wants to feel like a teenager again, messing around in a movie theater with somebody for the first time—only it's a man, not a girl who everybody told Robby was fast but who was just as happy to come home and lie around with him in the afterglow, reading together without a stitch of clothing on. He hadn't realized how many firsts he still would experience once he started dating another man, nor how addictive it would be to check them all off, one by one.

Jack doesn't wait for any verbal confirmation. Just gropes his thigh again with a bruising grip, making Robby hiss and wriggle in his seat. "Shh." Jack grins like a kid in a candy store. "C'mere, baby. You just sit back and let me make you feel good."

Robby doesn't miss the fact that he was anxious as all hell to cuddle up to Robby, but that now he's seriously considering letting him get him off in public. It's different, his brain bleats. It's under a hoodie.

One that'll make it pretty damn clear something's moving under it? Robby's more sensible inner voice retorts.

But then Jack's hand slides higher still, cupping Robby through his pants, and said sensible voice is promptly shoved inside of a pillowcase, a knot tying it closed before it's chucked over a waterfall. Jack makes Robby into this eager creature too easily. He'll tease Robby sometimes about Langdon following him around like a puppy, wanting nothing more than to be liked by him, but for better or for worse, Robby knows how it feels to enjoy someone's company so damn much that he'll do anything to get a smile of approval out of them. Jack Abbot just so happens to be at the top of that list.

Jack nips at the shell of Robby's ear with a hum, sending electric sparks scattering through his system, running through every inch of his veins before they all meet in his pelvis. In seconds, he's hard enough to ache, and the pressure through two layers of fabric isn't enough to grant him relief. Robby bites his bottom lip as he bucks against Jack's palm, but then his hand disappears, and Robby uses every ounce of self-control not to whine at the loss.

"What'd I say?" Jack whispers. Then he sucks Robby's lobe into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, his quiet moan vibrating the sensitive flesh. "Don't do a thing. Let me take care of it."

"You're a tease," Robby accuses under his breath.

He can feel Jack's shit-eating grin, one of the rare ones that stretches across his entire face. He follows it with a kiss on the cheek. "No teasing tonight? Okay. Heard." And then he goes for Robby's belt. He has an unfair amount of dexterity in his left hand. It works his buckle open in less than ten seconds.

Fuck. It's happening. It's really, really happening. Robby squeezes his eyes shut as his breath catches.

"Mm-mm. Watch the movie, Robby."

"Fuck you," he hisses. But when Jack lifts his palm away again, Robby's taken by surprise by the rush of despair, and there's no holding back his whisper-thin whimper this time. "Okay, okay, okay." He'll stare at the bright screen, but that's all that he can manage.

He never meant to need Jack this badly. Robby had all but set himself up for a long future alone, believing himself to be too set in his ways, too confident in his inability to be wrong, that there wasn't anybody who could handle him at his worst, that his best wasn't nearly good enough to make the bad worth it. And then here's fucking Jack Abbot. Calm. Slow to anger. Patient. In therapy, for fuck's sake, and not in a sanctimonious way either. He's made it perfectly clear that the resources are there for Robby whenever he's ready for them. He isn't pushy. He snuck through Robby's defenses under darkness in a stealth mission before Robby even realized that he was anywhere close by. And now Jack's unzipping him, then tugging Robby's belt loop until he lifts his hips enough for Jack to ease his pants and boxers down. And Robby's letting him. And Robby's going to let him do anything he fucking wants, anything at all, just so long as Jack comes home with him tonight and holds him when the inevitable nightmares peck at his brain.

He thinks sometimes that he really would do anything for Jack too, if given the opportunity. And every day, he is realizing more and more that he may very well receive it sooner than he thinks.

"There we go," Jack breathes when Robby's cock bounces free from its restraints.

Robby licks his dry lips and swallows past the nervous knot in his throat. "I'm gonna ruin your hoodie."

"You sure are, big guy." He doesn't sound the least bit perturbed. "It's not the first time you've marked up my clothes, is it?"

The rush of heat through him is so sudden and overwhelming that Robby buries his face against Jack's neck. When Jack takes him in hand, he's grateful for his instinct to hide because it means his low moan is muffled further by his skin. The guy plays with Robby like it's a science that he's perfected, knowing to gather his slickness in his palm before he goes anywhere near his shaft. Knowing that Robby loves a twist of the wrist whenever Jack reaches his tip. His other arm is still around Robby's shoulder, and he traces his fingertips up and down his throat, tingles and shivers that only accentuate the pleasure with pinpricks of overstimulation.

It's ridiculous how good it is. He shouldn't get to have this kind of attention or bliss. Lightning should strike him right here where he sits for daring to take a chance on love again after everything he put women like Heather through. And yet the movie keeps playing. They are undisturbed. Whatever cosmic vengeance that Robby keeps anticipating decides to wait for another day. And something about the brush of Jack's kisses on his cheek feels like absolution for sins that Robby has been unable to name.

God, he's too fucking perfect at this. Robby pants against him as Jack picks up his pace, his grip so tight. His forearm must be bulging. Fuck, fuck, his arms, his body, covered in freckles from top to bottom, dusted with dark hair that hasn't yet gone silver, so strong, every inch begging for Robby to get on his knees and worship him, marking him from head to toe. His mind catapults him back to the last time that Robby was inside of him, how effusive praise dripped from Jack's lips like the sweat beads falling from his brow, and without another thought, Robby sinks his teeth into Jack's neck and sucks and sucks and sucks because there isn't any other fathomable way to keep himself from mewling so the whole world knows what a lucky son of a bitch he is to have caught this man in a trap that he hadn't even known he was setting. Jack's wedding band is palpable, rubbing against Robby's cock as he tugs him, a symbol of eternal devotion, a constant and crystal clear reminder of what kind of tough act Robby is following. For the first time in a very long time, Robby has been waking up every day with the impulse to recite Modeh Ani.

Just like Jack, Robby's orgasm sneaks up on him, and he bites down hard as he whimpers and shakes through the ecstasy bleeding out of his very marrow. Jack grunts, then groans, long and rough, as he slows his fist before he can overwhelm Robby. He fondles his softening cock for a few moments more—he's always been amused by how he can make Robby twitch and gasp with so little effort once Robby's actually relaxed into the sheets, helpless but to surrender all of his tension to the pleasure.

Once Jack releases him, it takes Robby a few seconds more to realize that he should do the same. His jaw actually stings when he opens his mouth. He's stunned he didn't draw blood. In fact, he's...he's...

He's marked Jack. Right there on his neck. Where everyone will be able to see. Robby's eyes widen; his heart picks up the pace all over again. It's dark. Massive. And it's only going to get more noticeable before they both work tomorrow. "Oh, my God," Robby whispers.

Jack's smirking like the cat who ate the canary. With absolutely no regard for his hoodie, he uses the fabric to rub Robby dry, then cleans off his own hand. "Y'know," he breathes back, "if you wanted to make it official, public, all that, you could've just asked."

"I'm so sorry. I'll, uh, fuck, I'll buy some...what the hell do they use?"

"Concealer?" Jack asks, chuckling.

"Yeah. There's a drug store on the corner, right?"

"Robby." Jack cups the back of his head and turns him to look him dead in the eye. "Listen to me." Then he rests his other palm on his cheek. "I'm not saying no. You understand?"

Robby blinks.

With an amused and fond shake of his head, Jack sighs. Then he rests their forehead against Robby's, and for a long moment, they simply breathe in tandem. Then he whispers, "I'm not gonna walk into work tomorrow and run my mouth about who gave me this. Unless you want me to. And then I'll do it happily."

Robby tries his hardest to understand what he's saying, really, but his entire brain is bluescreening. Him. Them. Together. Public. And then it hits him with the force of a runaway train, and before he can think, Robby grabs his face in both hands and slams their mouths together hard enough to hurt. He just gave them both bruises and he's sitting here with his dick out while his cum dries on Jack's hoodie and he could give less of a shit about any of it.

Jack's grinning when he pulls back. "That a yes?"

"That's a let's go home and talk," Robby murmurs back, as though he's not beaming with every muscle in his face.

"Home, huh?" Jack rubs the tips of their noses together.

The words catch on Robby's tongue. He can't say it. Not yet. Can't even begin to dream of having a home with him. And Jack seems to understand this. He steals one more gentle kiss without a word, then reaches under the hoodie to begin putting Robby's clothes back to rights. He's wearing a secret smile, the kind that only makes the edges of his lips quirk, but that lights his eyes up brighter than the sun itself.

Something is changing tonight. Something that makes Robby stand and stick his hand out the moment that he's decent again. And Jack lets out a deep, pleased sigh as he takes it and lets Robby tug them away from the movie and out of the theater and onto the road that's possibly leading them toward the rest of their lives. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Robby feels fledgling hope burning in his chest.

[mj-iza-writer]

Subject and warning: Institutional pet whump... naked Whumpee. Bathroom usage. Drugging.

"I hear you.. I hear you", Whumper sighed as they pulled their kettle off of the stove burner.

They paused for a moment to listen for their pet. They could often hear the pitter patter of Whumpee coming to investigate the sounds... and to see if they could con a treat off of their master.

"Hmm, that's not like them at all", Whumper chuckled. They paused when they realized what trouble their pet could have gotten into while they were fixing their tea.

Whumper quickly and quietly tiptoed out of the kitchen. They continued to listen for Whumpee.

They finally heard a small whine, and Whumpee pawing at something.

They leaned into the living room and looked around until they found Whumpee's naked bum pointed up at them. They laid with a downward dog position and looked curiously at the heat register.

They couldn't help but smirk at the site. Whumpee swayed their butt side to side as they were trained to. This was to copy a real dog's happy tail wagging.

Whumpee pawed at the register and whined again.

Whumper frowned when Whumpee finally sat and looked at the register sadly. They tucked their body in tighter after a few shivers.

"I suppose it is a little cold... especially when your naked", Whumper leaned back and looked at their thermostat.

After a few taps, they leaned into the living room again.

The heat turned on right away, causing Whumpee to fall onto the floor and slide as close as possible to the warmth.

Whumper held their hand over their mouth to cover up their laugh.

Whumpee happily looked up when they saw Whumper watching them from the corner of their eyes.

"Is my pet cold?", Whumper cooed.

"Rumph", Whumpee grunted.

"You don't say?", Whumper cooed again.

Whumper carried in their teapot and cup.

Whumpee still relaxed by the heater. It had turned off a few minutes ago. They looked up at Whumper and whined.

"It will turn on again in a few minutes", Whumper set their things down, "be patient."

"MmmMmm", Whumpee whined in annoyance.

"Be quiet", Whumper sighed.

"Sniff... achoo", Whumpee sneezed playfully.

"Bless you" Whumper reached for their first cup of tea, "I know what you are doing, but it won't work. I'm reading my book. We played earlier, and I will cuddle with you later."

Whumpee trotted to Whumper's feet and rested their chin on Whumper's lap.

Whumper sighed at Whumpee's puppy eyes.

"Alright fine", Whumper patted their head, "let's go to the bathroom."

Whumpee shook their head no and shivered.

"I know, but you are not coming up on the couch until you've gone potty, and I've cleaned you off", Whumper poked Whumpee's nose, "just be happy you use the bathroom inside. Imagine if you were outside trained."

Whumpee followed Whumper into the bathroom.

They sat and waited for the command.

"Alright Whumpee, use the bathroom" Whumper ordered.

Whumpee hurried to their space.

They had been trained to use a squat toilet, which is what Whumper had requested.

Whumpee started to get comfortable, they looked up at Whumper awkwardly.

"Oh your right... sorry", Whumper turned, "because this doesn't compare to me seeing you naked twenty-four seven. Somehow, the bathroom is still a solo act."

After a few moments, Whumpee whined again, telling Whumper they had finished.

"Didn't have to use the bathroom", Whumper mocked as they set to work cleaning Whumpee.

Whumpee shivered as they leaned against Whumper.

"My poor baby is so cold", Whumper cooed as they stood, "look at all of that nastiness in your potty", Whumper frowned as they flushed.

"And that is why I wanted you toilet trained. Easy clean up", Whumper smiled.

Whumpee's teeth chattered together.

"Aww, my poor baby", Whumper hurried to wash their hands, "let's get you warmed up."

Whumpee jumped onto the couch and looked at Whumper tiredly.

"You've had a busy day, hmm", Whumper carried over Whumpee's favorite toy, "busy day being a pet?"

Whumpee yawned and stretched.

Whumper took a sip of their tea, "I'm surprised it's still somewhat warm. They gulped the rest down and poured more from their teapot.

Whumpee watched as Whumper grabbed a blanket and came over to them.

The blanket was flung over them, and Whumper tucked it in. They finished by tucking the toy into the blanket.

"Nice and comfy", Whumper ruffled Whumpee's hair lovingly.

"Hmmm", Whumpee hummed.

"Should we take your special treat before you go to sleep", Whumper smiled.

They reached for a white bottle that sat beside their chair.

Whumpee lifted their head slightly and cocked to the side.

"Don't worry it's just your vitamin... you like these", Whumper shook a gummy out onto their hand.

Whumpee sniffed it before opening their mouth.

Whumper placed the gummy onto Whumpee's tongue and watched them chew.

Whumpee quickly looked for more.

"No no, just one. You can have another tomorrow night", Whumper put the bottle back, "you just need one 'be good' vitamin to help your brain stay nice and sweet for me."

Whumpee tiredly rested their head while Whumper sat down and reached for their book and tea.

Whumpee slowly sneaked their head onto Whumper's lap.

"You're so sneaky when you want cuddles", Whumper set their cup down and started to play with Whumpee's hair.

Whumpee happily sighed.

After a while, Whumper's hand stilled, and Whumpee looked up at them.

"Humm...wh..wh", Whumpee whined lowly.

"Are you still awake?", Whumper sighed as they turned the page of their book and went back to petting Whumpee.

Whumpee reached into the blanket and pulled their toy out. They lifted it to their mouth and started to chew on it.

"Whumpee that isn't your chew toy", Whumper corrected with a sigh, "where is your chew toy anyways? I haven't seen it for a while."

Whumper scanned the floor.

"Huh, well, I guess you win. I'll have to find it later or buy a new one", Whumper laughed as Whumpee lifted their head and looked at them curiously. The toy still hung from their mouth.

"You're my silly pet", Whumper chuckled at Whumpee's antics.

Whumpee barked gleefully when Whumper set their book down and slid the empty tea pot away.

Whumpee was pulled up into Whumper's arms and squeezed tightly.

Whumpee wiggled around happily at their Master's new interests in them.

"Such a good pet for me", Whumper brushed Whumpee's hair back.

Whumpee nuzzled underneath Whumper's chin and sighed happily. Their cheek rested onto Whumper's chest.

Whumper rubbed circles along Whumpee's back until they could hear them snoring.

"Such a good pet", Whumper reached for the blanket and covered the both of them up. They then reached for the book again.

"It's a wonder how I got so lucky to get you", Whumper whispered, "long live our great institution."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

[seat-safety-switch]

In the distant past, people suffered. Ordinary folks, just like you and me. They agonized from the tortures of a cruel world. Why? They didn't have project cars.

Yes, I hear all the Smithsonian historians yelling right now. It's weird that every single one of you follow me, but I get it. You know that "project horses" are not a thing. Genghis Khan didn't spend a lot of time fuckin' around with the transmission ratios on his 13th-century wooden wagons. Maybe if he had a high-mileage 1989 Civic, it would have kept him busy, and he would not have killed quite so many people. Mostly the assholes at the parts store who keep getting him the wrong thermostat gasket, which I think history could forgive anyone for.

In the absence of the automobile, a lot of enterprising busyfolx had to find other, lesser hobbies. Agriculture. Photography. Poetry. Inventing the car, with the plan to buy a high-mileage used one later and nurse it back to health. Times were tough. Back then, a yard could just be filled with useless grass, or occasionally some kind of grazing animal, and not a succession of rusted-ass Plymouths and Pontiacs from fence to peeling fence. Waste of land, if you ask me.

I don't have a solution for this. The eggheads at CERN keep talking about devising some kind of time machine that can send exactly one (1) beat-to-shit Dodge Aspen back in history. They need someone to pilot it, and of course I volunteered. They just can't agree on what famous figure to distract from their destiny by dangling a delectable Malaise Era Mopar in front of them.

In the meantime, I've been tinkering on it a bit, here and there. Gotta do something to pass the time until they invent flying project cars.