#then again back then i didn't interact too much with fandoms

[edgerunnr]

the bach'alor_01

din djarin x f!reader. 1/? wc 3861. divider by @saradika-graphics

EDIT: if your blog does not have an 18+ age or age range at the top of it i will block you. DO NOT interact with my writing if you are not 18+!

din djarin, freshly minted king of a newly resettled mandalore, is told by his advisors that he must marry. it's a problem: he isn't in a relationship. you, his old friend and advisor, propose a little competition for his hand, and it's the dumbest idea you've ever had.

because you love him.

series warnings: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, secret feelings, eventual smut, canon divergence, royalty au, imperfect/incomplete star wars knowledge, reader insert is afab and ids as female, reader insert is a bit oc with a backstory out of necessity (i know none of y'all are from star wars so i had to put you in star wars), age gap (10-15 years or so/din late 40s, reader 30s).

chapter warnings: spoilers for major character deaths in canon.

a/n: back on my bullshit. i started writing this series on my old blog, but i never finished it because adhd brain had me writing and not planning. i'm planning things in detail this time, hoping to write this as a more coherent tale, because i did like the concept. gonna tag @pedrostories as a thank you for encouraging me even when i felt i wasn't good enough to write in this fandom. y'all always reached out and made me feel included. thanks for keeping me going when i couldn't. okay, nova, enough of my yammering, here's the fic.

The Mand'alor sat at the head of the long table, doing his best to keep his head up and stay alert. Advisors battled for his attention along the length of it, trying not to make it too obvious that they were trying to drown out other voices, but Din wasn't even listening, anyway. He had a tell; one you knew all too well, one that had followed him as long as you had known him in the covert on Nevarro: when he was bored, he would drum the fingers of his right hand on the table while tapping his left foot. Naturally, he did it now, oblivious to the fact that there was a person at the table who could translate it.

"You gotta stop fidgeting," you whispered, leaning in close enough that only he would hear you. The racket served you well.

His visor snapped to you, suddenly paying attention. Even when he wouldn't listen to the rest of the court, the moment you spoke up, he was back in the room. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you wear a helmet and you still don't have a poker face, you big dumb refrigerator." You reached out and grabbed his right hand, flattening out his fingers. "And stop bouncing your leg. They're gonna figure out it's your tell."

"Big dumb refrigerator." He scoffed, but then burst out laughing, loud enough that the rest of the court shut up and sat down, wondering what they could have said that had him in such a state. "You haven't called me that in years."

The helmets of the rest of the advisors turned to you, and you knew that if you could see their faces, they would be glaring at you. You were aware that the rest of the Mandalorian Royal Court was at best annoyed and at worst angry that you had joined their ranks. They came from families that had served the last Mand'alor, and once Mandalore had been reclaimed, they rejoined the court and thought that it would be something that elevated them in society once again, but they found, to their great disappointment, that their new king didn't much care for their opinions. He had, instead, insisted on bringing some of his own to the court, which was how you had ended up here. Din had brought you and the Armorer of the Tribe to join the court, and while the court accepted the stern, by-the-books Armorer with enough ease, you were a harder pill to swallow. So was Din, you reminded yourself every time you had these thoughts. None of them had initially been thrilled by the prospect of a Child of the Watch becoming the king of Mandalore, but they couldn't exactly argue with the fabled Darksaber, so they swallowed their unearned pride and sat quietly.

You thought back to the day the news had come to you. Din had raised you on comms to ask whether you were in a position to take a holocall. "Yeah, I'm in hyperjump," you had said, pulling up his image on the holo. "What's up?"

"I…" He trailed off, something characteristic of him when he had particularly big news.

You had learned to be patient with him not long after you had arrived at the covert. Din, already in his late 30s, was a well-established member of the Tribe at that time, and you, being a new arrival and extremely green, only in your early 20s, were looking for people you could get along with. As he tended to sit alone during gatherings, you decided that it might be a good idea to sit with him, someone quiet, someone you wouldn't have to explain yourself to. He didn't complain, and when you finally plucked up the courage to speak to him after about a week of sitting together in silence, you were pleased to find that he was not as closed off as you had initially thought him to be, but he was a bit shy, unused to talking about himself. Coaxing him out of his shell was something you did when alone, outside of the gaze of prying eyes, and the friendship you forged lasted, even though the both of you spent most of your time away from the covert on business. Your good friend was generous with his tips and tricks for bounty hunting, a profession you had transferred off of Concordia to pursue in your early adulthood, as there weren't many "legitimate" job prospects for Mandalorians. The other inhabitants of the galaxy tended to feel some type of way about your kind, and that way was usually something between prejudiced and terrified.

He tried again. "I have news."

"I thought as much, Djarin. You don't usually call just to shoot the shit, as much as I would welcome that," you pointed out with a chuckle. "So what is it?"

"It's really big. Are you alone?"

"Almost always, yeah."

"Okay." You heard him take a deep breath, and then he pulled something out that you were not expecting to see.

"KRIFF!" You scrambled away from the display on the holo, your instincts in overdrive when you saw what he was holding. "Din! Din! What the hell is that? How did you get that? You didn't ac—"

"Yes, it's the Darksaber. I got it when I was trying to save my kid. It wasn't… it wasn't something I wanted. What do I do, Moonbeam?" He used the affectionate nickname he had given to you not long after you met, based on the pearly white paint on your armor, as he put the blade away.

You panicked. "Is Grogu okay?"

"He's fine," he said, but you could hear that not everything was all right. "He went with the Jedi."

"Oh." You came back to your seat, leaning in closer to the projection of Din's image. "You must miss him terribly. I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what to feel." His helmet fell into his hands.

"Fuck this bounty." You stopped your hyperjump, turning your ship around. "Where are you? I'm coming."

"Beam—"

"No, Din, I'm coming. You need me. You'd never say it, but you need me. Where. Are. You?"

That was how you ended up with Din in a motel on Nevarro, sitting back-to-back and eating ice cream, letting him feel. You insisted on removing your armor and having him remove his, too, since he needed actual human touch. When you weren't eating, you slid your helmets back on, and you held him until he fell asleep. When he woke in the morning, still in your arms, he asked, so quietly you almost couldn't hear him: "What do I do, Beam?"

"You take on this responsibility, Din," you urged, rubbing his back in a way that you hoped would soothe him.

"What? You can't mean that."

"I do mean that." You looked into his visor, wishing for the first time that you could look into his bare eyes. "You're the one, Din. You're perfect for this."

"But I don't want it."

"Which is why you're the one." You took his hands in yours and pressed them against your chest, trying to communicate that you meant this from your heart. "A power-hungry ruler would just get us killed. You… you can rebuild Mandalore."

It took time, but eventually, the two of you found yourselves where you were in the present. Grogu returned, and Mandalore was settled once again. A monument was built in Keldabe to the fallen, one of whom, unfortunately, was Paz Viszla, Din's longtime covert nemesis, but a man who was a brother all the same. Paz's teenage son, Ragnar, became an apprentice of Din's upon his father's death, and Din now had double the charges to take on their journeys. Din asked you to come with him, and the four of you became a team, yourself and Din mentoring the foundlings. This also made you a target of the rest of the court; how could you be trusted with the best interests of Mandalore when your priority was only its king?

Back at the table, one of Din's older advisors asked with a sneer, "Do the two of you have something to share?"

"No," Din said firmly, staring her down. "Personal moment. Perhaps if all of you would stop clamoring for my time, we would have fewer of those at the table."

"But we all have important things to say!" said another.

"I don't think you do, but if you can speak one at a time like adults, I'll listen." He pointed at someone nearer the far end of the table. "You. What do you want?"

A male advisor, middle aged and slim, stood from his seat and said, "Lord Mand'alor, you have now been king for over a standard year. What are your plans for marriage?"

"Huh?" You suppressed a laugh at Din's obvious surprise. "Where did that come from?"

"From all of us, not that that was what all of us were talking about, but we do want to know. When will you be married?"

Din shook his head and looked at each advisor individually, none of whom were objecting, besides you. All you did was squeeze his knee under the table to let him know you were with him. "Need I marry? I have two foundlings. I believe I am already living up to the Mandalorian creed by performing as a mentor and father."

"In-indeed, my Lord," the nervous advisor agreed, "but the people of Mandalore wish to see you married to a Mandalorian. Royalty from other planets reach out daily to propose an alliance between worlds, and we're having trouble holding them off. They want to visit, to try to charm you, and we don't know what will happen if we allow any of them in. Most of us still don't trust outsiders."

"Understandably." Din said. "I… I see where you're coming from, but I was always… well, I… never mind. What do you propose?" You took note of his hesitancy to speak in front of the court and made a mental memo to ask him about it behind closed doors.

Another man near the middle of the table spoke. "We could arrange a list of ladies from some of the finer families—"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. I'm not playing nobility games. I will not choose from a list of women chosen for me."

"You can't just marry anyone."

"Need I remind you that not long ago, he too was 'just anyone?'" you interrupted, rising from your own seat. "Not a one of you would have looked twice at Din before he won the Darksaber. Admit it!"

A cacophony arose. "You cannot call him by his name!" you managed to make out.

Din stood at light speed and slammed his fists on the table. "She can call me anything she likes!" he roared, and everyone sat back down with their hands folded in their laps, meek as lambs. "She is my partner. I would sooner have her at this table, alone, than any number of you." His disdain was rarely so plain, but you couldn't deny that you loved watching him put them in their places. It wasn't something you wanted to admit to yourself, but it really turned you on. "She's right. None of you would have given me the time of day before. As I understand it, most of you openly called my people a cult. Funny we should end up here, with the best-behaved people at the table the cultists, hm?"

You heard the Armorer huff lightly. She was trying not to laugh, but she had every right to. Despite their surface-level acceptance of her, she knew as well as you and Din did that they didn't truly respect her. The others simply mumbled things along the lines of "Apologies, my Lord" and "Yes, my King."

"The next time any one of you dares to speak up against her, I will have an example made of you. I will publicly expel you from this court. I'm even tempted to banish you." He looked down at you, his helmet tilting in the expression you knew to be fondness. "Are you okay, Moonbeam?" he asked in a whisper, something meant for only the two of you.

"I'm okay, Din," you whispered back, sliding your gloved hand into his and pulling him back down into his seat. "Thank you for defending me."

"It's my honor." He cleared his throat and moved on as though none of that had ever happened. "Any other ideas?"

"Is it not women you want, my Lord?" asked a woman who hadn't yet spoken.

"Would that be a problem?"

"No, of course not. I only ask because it would be easier for us to help you if we knew."

"I like women," he said, and you could tell he was embarrassed. "I also like men. I'm not picky in that regard."

"Ah! That helps, my Lord. It significantly expands your pool of potential suitors."

Suitors! The word caused the idea to occur to you instantly, and you blurted it out as quickly as it arrived in your mind. "What about a competition?"

"A competition?" Din sounded genuinely interested for the first time that afternoon. "Of skills, or…?"

"No, not of skills." Your confidence grew thanks to his rapt attention. "It would be a series of dates, so not exactly a competition, I suppose, but there isn't a better word for it. We could start with a speed-dating round, and then a series of hour-long dates, and move on to a final round where the contestants move here, onto the Mand'alor's compound, and you slowly eliminate people until you find the one. We can open applications to everyone on Mandalore who is of age and single!"

He shook his head. "Everyone over 30, Beam. I'm pushing 50; I don't want any 19-year-olds in the mix. I need someone closer to my own life experience, but I don't want to narrow the field too much."

"Okay, everyone over 30 who's single." Your heart fluttered despite itself when you realized that that included you, not that you could apply. No, surely if he wanted you, he would have asked already. "So what do you think?"

"I think it's the only good idea I've heard today." It was then that you realized you had never let go of his hand, and he squeezed yours affectionately. "Let's do it."

Your stomach flipped at his touch. "Let's do it."

He dismissed everyone at the table then, asking you back to his quarters with him. You obliged him, moving to pick up your bag before he picked it up for you and beckoned for you to follow him. "I'd rather discuss further in private," he explained. "Sick of them."

"As am I." You walked with him, silently flattered by his decision to carry your things for you. He was always doing small things like this. Your relationship with him had changed so little and yet so much since you had both arrived on Mandalore for good, the same easy warmth between you, but so much new responsibility. Din had to call all of the shots, and while he occasionally listened to his other advisors, he mostly ran everything by you before making any decisions. Adding to this was the duty of taking Grogu and Ragnar on their apprenticeship journeys, a job you actually loved. Traveling with Din and the boys was the most at home you ever felt these days, free for a bit of the heaviness of the court and the kingship. You wondered if the two of you would be able to take the kids out for journeys during the competition.

"The boys are training," Din explained as he opened the doors to his quarters. "It's just us. You want something to drink, Beam?"

"Just water, thanks, Din," you said, hanging your bag by the door and settling at his table. The both of you were comfortable enough with one another at this point that you didn't mind picking up your helmet a bit in front of him to drink. "Sparkling if you've got it."

"Always do, for you," he confirmed, which made your chest tighten a little. Why had you suggested this competition? You should have just suggested the obvious: that he should marry you. It made sense; you were already his partner in so many aspects of life. Why not be his riduur? But no, you couldn't say something like that. Din spent so much time around you that if he wanted to marry you, he would have already said something, which made you believe that there had to be something about you keeping him from seeing you in that light. Maybe he thought you wouldn't make a suitable mother for the kids, or that you were too informal with him, even though he wouldn't say it, or that you were too awkward and strange to make a wife. Whatever his reasons, you had to respect them, but you were still happy that he did things like keep sparkling water in his quarters just for you. He loved you in his own way.

You took a sip from your glass before bringing up the topic that had been on your mind since it had occurred earlier in the meeting with the court. "Din?"

"Yeah?"

"When you said 'never mind' earlier, what did you mean?"

"When did I say that?"

"When the advisor asked when you would be married. You started to say that you always…"

"Ah." He wrung his hands, clearly a bit anxious to broach the subject. "I wanted to say that I was always hoping that it would be natural. That I would just fall in love on my own terms. I don't want to be set up."

"Oh, Maker, Din, I'm sorry—"

"No, Beam, your competition isn't setting me up. It's a little less natural than I may have thought, but maybe it will turn out exactly the way I wanted it to," he said, his stress on the word exactly grabbing your attention.

"Whoa, do you already have someone in mind?" you asked, wracking your brain for who it might be. "Do you mean exactly because you know who you want it to be? Why not just ask them, Din? Anyone on the planet would be lucky to have you."

He shook his head and looked down. "I'm too afraid."

"Why?"

"What if she rejects me?"

She. So this loved one of Din's was a woman. Somehow, that stung more than if it were a man; you wished it had been you who had been the woman to capture his heart. "Why would she reject you? That's crazy. You can't think that."

"Maybe it's nothing wrong with me, necessarily. She might not want to ruin our current relationship."

And it was someone he was already close to? Kriff. Jealousy rose in your throat unbidden. "Do you think she'll enter the competition?"

"If she does, I'm calling off the whole thing," he stated definitively, taking a drink from his own glass. "She's the one, I know it, but I'll let her choose me. I know being the riduur of the Mand'alor is a lot to take on, plus I've got two foundlings. I get it if I'm not what she wants."

You had to admit to yourself that Din being the Mand'alor was a part of what intimidated you out of confessing to him how you felt about him. It was all well and good for you to love him, but how would the people of Mandalore feel about having you as their queen? You couldn't imagine it would be a hugely positive reaction. What would you be able to bring to your people as their representative? What history did you have that made you worthy of the throne? No, the people probably wanted Bo-Katan Kryze, the former princess. "Oh! It's Bo-Katan!" you yelped, your hand flying to the forehead of your helmet. "Of course! But wait, why would she be worried about being the riduur of the Mand'alor?"

"Bo-Katan?" He laughed, confusing you. "Absolutely not. I have a perfectly diplomatic relationship with her, but she's not the woman I'm talking about, Moonbeam. I… well, I sometimes feel like she wants the throne for herself."

"Because she does."

"So I'm not crazy." Din shrugged. "I thought about trying to give her the Darksaber before I was sure I was going to take on the responsibility."

Your interest was piqued by this new information. "What stopped you?"

"She wants the throne. You told me that a power-hungry ruler would just get us all killed, remember? I'm not sure exactly how power-hungry Bo-Katan actually is, but it wasn't worth the risk. You were right, as you so often are. Your advice has brought me through so much." He reached out for your hand. "I could never have done this without you for a whole year, and I also couldn't take the boys on their journeys without you there. They're our foundlings, at this point. I hope you know how much we love and appreciate you."

You were endlessly grateful that Din wouldn't be able to clock the heat rushing to your face from behind your helmet. He called the boys your shared foundlings. If he didn't stop talking like that, he could almost fool you that he felt the same way for you as you did for him. "Promise me you won't leave me behind when you marry her," you whispered, trying your hardest not to cry. "I can't let the three of you down."

"No one could ever take your place, Beam," he assured you, his steady voice soothing you. "You belong with us." He held his arms open and you leaned into his chest plate, his embrace your favorite place to be in all the worlds you had experienced. "You're our heart, you know that? The piece that keeps the three of us from losing ourselves. After we've all spent the day adventuring and fighting, who's the one who reminds us to eat something?"

"I do," you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips.

"And who polishes up our armor while I wash the clothes?"

"I do."

"Who stitches us up?"

"Din, you do that."

"Well, you stitch me up, anyway," he said, holding you a little tighter. "I really don't miss having to do that myself, and I don't miss medcenters."

"You've always hated the smell of sterility."

He shuddered. "Lifeless."

"I know." You leaned back to look up at him, wishing you could see his eyes, which you knew would be so bright and full of life you'd have a hard time looking away. "I'm sorry, Din. I just… I value our time together. I'm insecure about losing it."

"Don't be. If I have it my way, you'll be by my side until my last breath."

After a few minutes of grounding silence in each other's arms, you pulled back from him and placed a datapad on the table in front of you. "All right, big guy. Let's plan this thing out."

[kitchensinksurrealism]

can you get burnout from doing nothing

[angelltheninth]

Love and Deepspace Men Pining For You

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst with a happy ending, love confession, jealousy, kissing, friends to lovers, pining

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Someone needs to take my phone away before I go crazy over these guys. Unless it already happened and I didn't notice.

Zayne is always surrounded by all kinds of attention from women but the only woman he wants the attention of is you. Because he's popular he gets that he might have to be more clear about his intentions with you. It's not just him teasing or being playful when he asks you to those lunch dates, it's not just him wanting to fluster you when he touches your cheek with his fingertips. That is him being completely serious about wanting to date you, wanting to be your boyfriend. You being his girlfriend would make him the happiest man in the world. And if he was your boyfriend he would make sure you never want for anything, he would do anything in his power to make you happy and keep you safe. Kisses would be includes, but they would be more of a bonus to the relationship, a welcome one.

Rafayel feels his whole body flushing when your hands touch. What started as a simple admiration for you has developed into so much more, it's not just about him wanting to be the main subject of his artwork, but the only woman he wants to be his lover. The courtship starts with him painting sceneries that he knows you like and then gifting them to you, they're on small canvases so you can take quite a few of them. Every time he notices you talking to some other guy he gets this adorable pout on his face that he hides by quickly turning on his heel and storming off. Often asks you for what he should draw next, saying how much he values you and your opinion. He's confesses by saying he's always liked painting beautiful things and to him there's no one more beautiful than you.

Xavier thinks over every little thing you do together, carefully combing through your interactions to try and figure out if you like him too. It could be that he's just imagining things and his affections are one-sided. He would hate that of course but his primary goal is to make sure you're safe and happy. As he finds himself thinking more and more of you when he's away he gets scared. Scared that something bad might happen and you won't ever get to find out how he feels about you. Before he's set to leave again he envelopes you in a tight hug, telling you that he will come back for sure, because there's a woman he loves and he will get back to her one way or another. He doesn't kiss you as he leaves, that should be saved for when he comes back, and it is.

Sylus doesn't hold back once you catch his eyes, he saw you and it doesn't matter who saw you before him. He wants you for himself now, he wants to win you over and wants you to only look at him, to only think of him. Very flirty from the beginning and therefore a little hard to read at how genuine he's being with his advances. After a few nights spent together he can't stop thinking about you. Waking up to you is the best part of his day, as is falling asleep next to you. He wants to hold on to those feelings forever, wants to hold onto you forever. Every kiss from you makes his mind go wild in ways he never experianced before. He never expected to fall for you, or that you would return his feelings past the desires you felt for each other, but he did fall, deep and fast and hard, and he's taking you with him.

Caleb has been pining after you for years, before you went your separate ways. You were the only one who kept him going through all these years and now he finally has you back. He doesn't intent to let you go again, or to let any other man have you. The kisses he gives, the touches he makes, the words he speaks leave no room for doubt of his feelings but he also doesn't want to force these feelings onto you. Every day he tells you how much he loves you, hoping that one day he'll hear it back. When he does he honestly thinks he's still dreaming, that you aren't even there, that you were never real, that you can't love the man he is now. But you can, and you do, and just like him you never want to let him go again.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Slicked Back & Smitten

Rating: Mature Audiences

Warning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, spicy, wlw smut, mirror sex, Paige's biceps, paige fucking you while having you in a headlock, !top paige, !bottom reader, light oral (fem reseving), !purple strap Paige, !slick back ponytail P (yes this deserves a warning), fluff

Paring: Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Fandom: Uconn's Women's basketbal

Summary: Slicked Back ponytail P... and she's swollen in the right places too... oh you're down bad baby

Tag: @elliesglock , @elalfywhore , @paxaz535

The morning of the UConn vs. Butler game was absolute chaos. With a 1 p.m. tip-off, I had been up at the ass crack of dawn, running errands before heading to the arena. Meanwhile, Paige was at home, usually getting her game day braids done by Kayla—her routine, her thing.

Except today, Kayla couldn’t do them she was getting over being sick, didn't wanna risk Paige getting sick.

And I? I was too busy being the responsible, errand-running girlfriend to even offer to do them myself.

So, Paige had to figure something out.

By the time I arrived at the arena, the team was already warming up. I greeted a few of the staff members before spotting Kayla on the sidelines, watching the girls get their final shots up before tip-off.

"Did you see what she did?" Kayla asked as I approached.

I was confused. "Who?"

Kayla gave me a look. "Your girlfriend."

I turned my head, scanning the court until my eyes landed on Paige in her love, Abby warm up. And, oh, did my jaw practically drop.

Instead of her signature game day braids, she had done a sleek middle-part ponytail. The gel, the clean parting, the way the ponytail laid so perfectly down her back—it was… different. It was… distracting.

I bit the inside of my cheek, shifting on my feet. "Yeah… I see her."

Kayla snickered, nudging me. "She look good, huh?"

I exhaled sharply, eyes still glued to Paige as she moved across the court, completely unaware of the effect she was having on me. The slick back? The way it emphasized her face, her jawline, her everything? Yeah, it was bad for me.

"Kayla," I started, voice low. "I don’t think you should do her braids next game either."

Kayla howled. "Oh, nah, you down bad!"

I rolled my eyes, pretending like I wasn’t already making plans to personally ensure Paige never wore braids again.

———

The first half of the game was a problem.

Paige was playing out of her mind. She was dropping dimes, hitting threes, getting to the basket with ease—and she looked damn good doing it.

I was trying to focus on the actual game, trying not to be the most obvious girlfriend ever, but every time she drove to the rim, her ponytail swung just right, her edges still perfectly laid despite how much she was sweating.

It was a crisis.

By halftime, I had reached my breaking point.

Sitting in the stands, I pulled my phone out, thumbs flying across the screen as I sent a text Paige wouldn’t see until later.

Me: You need to put me in a headlock when we get back home.

Me: And I need you to consider this slick back ponytail as your new game day hair. Like… permanently.

I hit send, exhaling as I locked my phone. Out of sight, out of mind. I just needed to get through the rest of the game without combusting.

———

Paige didn’t see the message until hours later.

After the game, she had her usual post-game press conference, with Kk and Azzii answering questions about UConn’s dominant win, her own performance, and how it felt playing without her signature braids.

Then came the locker room celebrations, the team hyping each other up, the post-game shower, and finally—finally—Paige was back at our shared off-campus apartment.

Freshly showered, she walked into the bedroom with a towel around her neck, only in her black Nike sports bra and grey boxers sitting perfectly on her waist line, scrolling through her phone finally checking all her notifications.

I was sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly myself, until I saw her pause.

Her head tilted. "What the hell?"

I tried to act innocent. "What?"

Paige turned her phone towards me, revealing my very suggestive text from earlier. "This," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Headlock? Really?"

I shrugged, unbothered. "You read it. You know what I said."

She huffed out a laugh, tossing her phone onto the nightstand before crawling onto the bed. She hovered over me, arms on either side of my head, that damn ponytail still sleek even after her shower.

"So," Paige mused, voice dropping slightly. "You liked the ponytail, huh?"

I reached up, running my fingers over the base of it where she had secured it with a black hair tie. "Liked? Understatement."

Paige smirked, dipping down to press a lingering kiss to my jaw. "Liked it enough to text me during halftime about puttin yo ass in a headlock?"

I exhaled sharply. "I was having a moment."

She kissed the corner of my mouth, teasing me. "Mhm. And what kind of headlock we talking about?"

I rolled my eyes, pushing her lightly. "Don’t play with me, Bueckers."

Paige chuckled, finally kissing me for real, slow and deep, before pulling back just enough to rest her forehead against mine. "So… ponytail again next game?"

I nodded immediately. "Absolutely, baby it’s your secret weapon."

She smirked, leaned closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered, "Anything for you, baby. Especially when I get to have my way with you afterward."

I shivered at her words, my heart racing with anticipation. There was something intoxicating about the way she claimed me, the way she took charge. I loved every moment of it, even if it made me feel vulnerable.

Paige stood up suddenly, her playful demeanor shifting into something more commanding. “Come here,” she instructed, her voice firm yet sultry. I followed her, curiosity piqued, as she led me to the full-length mirror on the wall, right next to the bed.

“Look at yourself,” she murmured, her fingers brushing against my neck as she turned me to face the glass. I could see the reflection of us, a flush creeping across my cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “But I want you to see what I see.”

Before I could respond, she slowly pulling my satan mini sleep dress, off revealing my body to herself as if she was claming a prize. My heart raced as I realized her intentions. “Paige…” I started, but her smirk silenced me.

“Shh,” she said, a playful glint in her eye. “Trust me, watch me the whole time, ma. ” She walked to the other bed side table to pull out the purple stap, taking the boxers off and expertly securing it around her waist.

I watched her through the Mirror not taking my eyes of her once.

“Now,” she said, walking back to me and now her breath warm against my neck, “I want you to look at yourself in the mirror and think about how good you can be for me.”

She wrapped her strong arms around me, pulling me back against her chest, and I found my breath catching in my throat as I felt her biceps flex around my head.

“Paige, I—”

“Good girls do what they’re told,” she interrupted playfully, flexing her biceps around my chin so I could look up see my own reflection. “Look at you. So pretty, so willing. You’re perfect just like this.”

I gazed into the mirror, my heart pounding as I saw the way she held me—her strength juxtaposed against my vulnerability. I felt a rush of heat surge through me.

“Tell me what you see,” Paige urged, her voice steady yet sultry. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I see…” I hesitated, caught between the thrill of her hold and the desire to please her. “I see… me. I see us.”

“Good girl,” she praised, her voice dripping with satisfaction. I could feel the tension in her body, the way she leaned into me, the heat radiating off her. “Now, tell me how much you want me.”

“I want you, Paige,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The honesty of my desire sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that burned deep within. “I want you to fuck me.”

“See? Was that so hard?” she teased, her lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You’re learning.”

Paige turned me slightly, enough that I could see her in the mirror too. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she gazed down at me, and I felt a rush of exhilaration at being at her mercy. “Now, I want you to remember this moment. How it feels to be my good girl.”

With that, she pressed her lips against mine, capturing me in a kiss that was both sweet and demanding. I melted against her, surrendering fully to the sensation of her body against mine. Each kiss deepened my desire, igniting a passion that coursed through my veins.

“Look at us,” she murmured between kisses, her voice low and seductive. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Together, we create magic.”

Once back on the bed she had me face down ass up, still facibg the mirror.

I gasped as she took her tongue and gave my much needy pussy attention, “You’re so beautiful like this,” she whispered, her breath warm against my thigh just before kissing and biting at it. “I want to make you feel everything.”

After a few mins of practically making out with my pussy, Paige, pulling me up by my hair before locking my head in her biceps again, her lips brushing against my ear as she trailed kisses along my jawline and neck. I could feel her warmth, her desire, and it sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. “Tell me how it feels, and don't be quiet about it either, baby” she instructed, her voice a tantalizing whisper.

“Good,” I breathed, my heart racing. “It feels so good.”

“Good girls deserve to be rewarded,” she replied, her lips curling into a smirk. “And you’ve been so very good, so keep watching in the mirror for me, yeah mamas”

She guided my gaze back to the mirror, forcing me to watch as she explored my body, her hands roaming, her kisses igniting every nerve. “Look at how much you crave this,” she teased, her voice a sultry melody. “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, the thrill of her words sending me spiraling deeper into desire.

“Then let’s make this a night to remember,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief and passion.

Before I could fully process her movements, she had me pinned, face down ass up into the satan sheets, every inch of my body electrified by her touch. The strap slid deeper, an intoxicating sensation that made my heart race and my mind spin.

I could feel every pulse, every inch of her as she filled me, her confidence radiating through the air. Letting out a groan as if she could actually feel me clenching around her. “Fuck, baby you takin my dick so good. Pussy just swallowin me whole, shit.”

“Paige…” I managed to whisper, but the words were swallowed by the thick tension that hung between us. My body was responding, every nerve ending alive with the thrill of the moment. She held me captive, and I was more than willing to surrender.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me as she thrust deeper, the rhythm slow at first but building in intensity. I could hear her breathing, a mix of pleasure and desire, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re so perfect for me,” she murmured, a sultry smile playing on her lips. “I could do this forever.”

With every thrust, she drew me closer to a precipice I had only ever dreamed of. The world outside faded away; there was nothing but the two of us, lost in our own universe. I could feel the heat pooling within me, a delicious tension building that threatened to consume us both.

“God, you feel so good,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire. “I want you to look in the mirror when you cum f'me. Watch yourself fall apart on my shit, ma.”

I surrendered completely, allowing myself to be swept up in the waves of pleasure she was creating. The way she moved, the way she filled me—it was intoxicating. I could feel every inch of her, the connection between us palpable, electric. It was as if we were two bodies entwined in a dance as old as time, a rhythm that only we could hear.

“Paige, I…” My words faltered as she hit a spot that made my entire body quiver. I could feel the tension building, spiraling higher and higher until it felt like I might burst.

“Shh, just look in the mirror and feel,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “I’ve got you.”

Her words were like a spell, wrapping around me and pulling me deeper into the moment. I lost myself completely, every thought dissolving into a haze of pure ecstasy. Looking into the mirror watching with way she had my arms pinned behind my back, the determination on her face to make me feel so full. Watching the way my juices leaked on the bed, the way the base of the strap milky white from the way she was pounding me into the bed. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the connection between us, the way she moved, the way she touched me.

As she pushed deeper, I could feel the heat rising more and more, the pressure building within me. I was teetering on the edge, and I could sense that she was too. And as a last minute act she put me in a headlock again, hips still hitting all the right spot. “Yes, just like that, watch yourself f'me” she urged, her voice a low, sultry whisper. “Let go for me. Yeah ma, cum on my dick.”

With a final thrust, everything exploded, watching myself fall apart on the purple strap. I felt the world around me shatter into a million pieces, the sensation overwhelming and all-consuming. Waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and trembling.

“Just like that, baby. That’s it,” Paige encouraged, her voice a sultry murmur that was so encouraging that I could cum again. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, f'me baby.”

I could hardly respond, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure that coursed through me. I felt her slow down, her movements becoming gentle as she brought me back down from the high. My head resting back on her shoulder for a few seconds before I look at our sweat, cum dripping bodies, in awe

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern flickering in her eyes as they met mine through the mirror.

I nodded, still catching my breath. “More than okay,” I whispered, a smile breaking across my face. “That was incredible.”

Her lips curled into a playful grin, and I could see the satisfaction shining in her eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I could fully comprehend her words, she shifted her body, and mine her movements fluid and graceful. The strap was still there, a reminder of the connection we shared, and as she positioned herself above me, as I am now on my back, I felt the excitement build once more.

“Just relax and enjoy the ride,” she said, her voice low and enticing.

With that, she began to move again, her body rocking against mine in a way that sent shivers coursing through me. Every thrust was deliberate, every movement intentional, and I could feel myself responding, eager to meet her rhythm.

“God, you’re amazing,” she breathed, her eyes locked onto mine. The intensity of her gaze sent another wave of heat through me, igniting the fire that had only just begun to simmer.

“Paige, you have no idea…” I gasped, my hands finding their way to her hips, guiding her as I tried to keep up with her pace.

We were lost in each other, the world outside fading away once more. The tension built again, a delicious spiral that threatened to consume us both. I could feel the heat rising, the pressure coiling within me, and I knew we were nearing the edge once more.

“Just a little more,” she urged, her breath coming in quick gasps as she pushed herself closer, her voice laced with urgency. “I want to feel you again.”

With her words, I was gone, the tension breaking like a dam as the pleasure rushed over me once more. I could feel her reach her peak too, our bodies connected in a way that felt transcendent.

As we collapsed together, breathless and spent, I couldn’t help but smile. In that moment, everything felt right. We were two souls intertwined, lost in the heat of desire and the sweetness of connection.

“Wow,” I managed to say, a laugh escaping my lips. “What just happened?”

Paige chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. “Just a little magic,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I think we should do it again.”

I grinned, my heart racing at the thought. “I’m all in.”

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment's Section (pt.10)

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Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: an epilogue (no spoilers here!).

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, slowburn, fluff, light angst, cheesiness, friends that act like lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, attempt at humour, social media au, officially lovers.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT

─ · · A/N: my last smosh fic! thank you all seriously for all the support. I wouldn't have written as much as I did for the fandom without the comments, reblogs and tags I have had the pleasure of receiving. I may come back once I get through the creative burnout i'm feeling for smosh but who knows! Anways-uh... enjoy!

─────── · ·

A few years later...

🔔 (name)s_username just posted for the first time in awhile, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by phatchance, spennser, glen_powell, and others

(name)s_username Never really been much of a secret just how much I love my best friend that I can now, officially, call my husband 🫶

Thank you, Spencer, for dealing with my bullshit, for calling me out, letting me cry on your shoulder, yell in your face, eat everything in your fridge and yet still find ways to love me, all of me, and never make me question it for a moment. Thank you, my love, for showing me what love can feel like, what it can look like, and how it can be practiced.

It does not feel like twenty years have gone by but then again, I see you everyday and now I get that with the promise of forever. I love you and that is something I will never take for granted.

*No pictures from the wedding, sorry everyone but I'm keeping those for myself, friends, and family :-) Have roadtrip pictures instead!

View all 11,301 comments

spennser gosh, I didn't know we were hard-launching already?!

↳ (name)s_username babe, we did that nearly five years ago... 😬

username01 I will NEVER get over these two! 😭 I want a love like this! Its been so incredibly beautiful and fulfilling watching you two interact on screen together, congratulations! You both deserve nothing but happiness! #(yourshipname)isforever

username31 why is nobody else commenting about that last picture 🤣

co_mill you have me inspired to re-new my vows! Gosh, I remember meeting you both for the first time and seeing that initial re-spark and to see it, to celebrate it now, gosh-bestie you have my crying. I'm so happy for you both 🫶 #(yourshipname)isforever

↳ (name)s_username you have me sobbing now too! and I told myself I wouldn't cry anymore today! 😭 thank you for always believing in us (even when we didn't lol) ↳ co_mill of course! some people are just meant to be, just at a different time. ❤️❤️ ↳ (name)s_username couldn't have said it better myself ❤️❤️ ↳ username24 okay but why is this thread the most wholesome thing on the interweb??? ↳ username00 who tf says "interweb?"

username69 still don't understand why anyone would care about such a terrible person like yourself. The biggest liar is here and everyone knows it- you lie to yourself too.

username31 congratulations!!! 🎉

username12 OMG THEY GOT MARRIED????? 🥳 YESSSS #(yourshipname)isforever

shayne_topp woah! you got married? OMG I did that too!

↳ (name)s_username oh shit really? I'm still trying to figure out if I like this whole marriage thing or not... /sarcasm ↳ shayne_topp ehhh, I mean, I don't know about you but I have a pretty killer marriage. You and Spencer can try... ↳ (name)s_username SPENCER!! 👺 ↳ spennser yes, love? ❤️ ↳ (name)s_username do we have a better marriage than shourtney? 🥹 ↳ spennser I-uh... 😬 ↳ anthony_padilla (psst, just say yes!) ↳ spennser yes! 😄 ↳ (name)s_username see shanye! take that! 😄 ↳ username88 "yes, love" AHHHHHHHHHHH 💞

username33 #(yourshipname)isforever #(yourshipname)isforever #(yourshipname)isforever #(yourshipname)isforever

username29 YESSS LET"S GOOOOO BOYSSSSS!!!!!!

filmingamanda does this mean I can't make anymore "spencer is attractive jokes, now?"

↳ (name)s_username I mean... you're not wrong so I won't stop you 😉

username90 this all feels surreal... but congrats!! 👏

ianhecox proud of you both, truly ❤️

chickenshopdate and here goes another ex of mine getting married. WHEN WILL IT BE MY TIME GOD??? PLEASEEE

phatchance you both looked so beautiful today 🫶

tomeybones wishing you both years of happiness to come!!

username12 I hate you, so much now.

─────── · ·

🔔 spennser just posted for the first time in awhile, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by (name)s_username, filmingamanda, and others

spennser today and everyday from now, I get the pleasure of waking up in my spouses arms. if you would have asked me in college that I would be dating a movie star, comedian, writer, and director as talented, smart, and gorgeous as (name); I would have, quite frankly, told you to shut up and fuck off.

Funny how things change, huh? I now cannot think of a singular day without you in it and cannot remember a day without you in my life. I am so incredibly thankful that you fell in love with me, trusted me with your heart up until now and for forever.

You will always have my love and support. My arms to welcome you back home and I will make sure you never question how much I love you, my love and show you everyday just how much you mean to me.

*No pictures from the wedding! Keeping that private, please do not go looking for pictures.

View all 4,220 comments

(name)s_username I love you, so much. 🫶

↳ spennser I love you. 🫶

username01 AHHHHH. 😭 No but like- AHHHHH you GUYsss are killing me here. After years of waiting im now dying here. My heart cannot take this level of sweetness 🫶 #(yourshipname)isforever

smosh #(yourshipname)isforever

smoshgames #(yourshipname)isforever

smoshpit #(yourshipname)isforever

↳ username99 not all the smosh channels coming together LMAO 😂

username24 "So this is love, mhmm, mhmm, so this is what makes like divine~" - (name) x Spencer

username68 babe, wake up! (name) and Spencer actually got married! #(yourshipname)isforever

damienhass you guys are so stinkin' cute 😊

username77 eh. I bet it'll last a year or two before Spencer gets sick of em.

anthonypadilla with everyone getting married im beginning to feel left out...

↳ ianhecox I mean... we could always get married?

username33 I love that this whole post is about Spence being both genuinely so happy the get to call (name) there's but also wondering how on earth he managed to get with (name) too XD

username90 wishing the couple nothing but happiness and respect 🫡

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: and holy shit! the comments section is finally over! thank you all again for reading this far, I hope you all have enjoyed reading this series as much as I did writing it. 🫶 - I will always think about this lol

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey

[cloversnstrawberries]

could you do platonic leon kennedy with his child that tried to escape him but failed, like how would he punish them?

"code 10-110" platonic!dad!yandere!leon s. kennedy & teen!runaway!gn!reader [oneshot] ! !

masterlist !

description; You know your dad meant well, but after he takes it way too far-- you decide to break free from his hold. Really, you should've known that you couldn't outrun him for long. After all, you were his kid, and he'd go to the end of the Earth to keep you safe (and by his side).

additional notes; hello!! i'm not sure if you aiming for headcanons or not, but i decided to do a oneshot!! i hope i did the concept justice,,, you're all very big brained when it comes to ideas. i love requests so much, because i don't think i ever would've come up with this idea; but i had so much fun writing it.

also, fun fact, i was in the gotham fandom for a long while!! i know a lot of police stuff because of that, so i vaguely remembered the "10 codes" from the get. 10-110 is a code for juvenile disturbance :D

warnings; Leon is Not Well, overprotectiveness, possessiveness, entrapment, running away, manipulation (more so of reader's environment more than reader themselves), cops/law enforcement, vague talk of violence/murder, and there ight be more I missed :[ if I missed one, please let me know! ^ ^

w/c; 4.5k

You didn't think you'd get this far.

Not for a lack of care in your plan-- no, you couldn't have been more careful as you planned everything and anything involved in your escape. Months passed before you enacted it. You bided your time, until you heard the birds outside start singing in the morning-- and when your dad came in to take away the space heater.

It was spring, and while you didn't know the exact date while locked away in a deceptively cozy, comfortable cell-- made to look like a bedroom, like your bedroom--, but he'd locked you away in September, so... around 5-6 months, you'd been holed up in there.

Your dad wasn't always like how is now, you think. Maybe there were traces of it-- but that was easily written off as him being a run-of-the-mill overprotective dad. He worked in law enforcement, he'd seen the worse humanity could offer and more.

And for that, you'd given him some slack. You tried not to snap at him when he made sure you weren't out of the house past 8, and that he had to have met a friend before you so much as hung out-- and god forbid sleepovers, those were reserved for only the most trustworthy friends with the must trustworthy of family.

There were a lot of rules when it came to interacting with you. Really, you tried not to let it get to you; but it was so... isolating. No one wanted to be your friend, and they especially didn't want to try and ask you out. It was like a death sentence, in their minds.

They took one look at your dad, and decided that'd he'd be the type to see you off to prom with a bullet in the head of your date. He's not like that. He doesn't kill people for it, for being near you or anything.

He'd never outwardly rude or violent about it either. But still, it was overbearing. It had gotten worse as you got older-- as he went on more missions, and after every one, he'd come back a little bit different.

A little bit more intense with his previously manageable protective nature-- you were starting to feel like a bird kept in a gilded cage. The list of rules he held you and your friends by was so long that even you couldn't keep track of it anymore,

Eventually, everyone left you. Ruled you off as the kid with a crazy dad that owns more guns and weapons then the average kid could've ever imagined.

You don't blame him for it-- not really. You understood it. He'd sat you down and explained to you time and time again, apologized for the way he was-- he just wanted you safe.

It all came to a head when he went a step too far.

15 minutes. That's all you'd been late by-- 15 goddamn minutes. He'd lowered the curfew from 8 to 7:30, then 7--

And eventually, it was down to fucking 5:00. You couldn't be out of the house without him being present after 5! Not even for a job! Nothing! He made no exceptions, and it irritated you to no end.

In an act of textbook teenage rebellion (not really, if you tried telling that to anyone around your age then they'd laugh in your face, call it a pathetic attempt at defiance) , you stayed out a little later than necessary. You popped into a gas station on the way back home from hanging out at the local library, got a bag of candy, and took your sweet old time walking home.

You knew there'd be consequences; but the ones you'd expected, like being unable to walk anywhere anymore, or losing privleges like your computer or TV, or even being grounded...

Well, safe to say that what he ended up choosing blew those other options far, far out of the water.

Anxiety curled in your gut as you thought about it more and more, the idea that you thought for sure you wouldn't make it this far. By no means did this make you feel any safer than you had before-- if anything, it puts you more on edge.

Honestly, you don't know what you thought you'd get out of this. You can't go to the cops-- you're just another runaway. Your dad hadn't skimped out on the story he wove about you,

When you first got out-- first pried your way out of that basement, bathed in mockingly warm light-- all the amenities your average teenager could ask for, save for the ability to leave--, you'd made the mistake of trying to head to the police station.

It was stupid, you realize. And nearly got yourself caught in less than 30 minutes-- they'd ushered you in, listened to your tale of how your dad trapped you down in a basement. The town had to have been buzzing, and you'd wrongfully assumed that your dad had been playing up the 'grieving father going through hell and back to try and find their kid'.

Luck. That's all you had on your side, pure, dumb luck that you got out of there in time. That the walls of the precinct were thin enough for you to hear the cops talking about you in the other room. They weren't much for hushed tones, which was stupid when they talking about someone in the room right next to them.

The chief had been called over, you think. Sounded like him. But regardless of who he was, what he said hit you like a ton of bricks, no matter the person behind it.

"You got Kennedy's kid? Ain't they sicker than a dog, though? Bedbound, didn't he say?" Then another one, the younger one that seemed the most trustworthy when she'd pulled you into the building, and gave you some water and a blanket, corrected the man, "He never said what kind of sick, sir. It might be... in their head, and I don't think he ever said bedbound. Just stuck in the house."

Blood rushed in your ears, grip tightening on the little paper cup in your hand. You fought against the primal urge to flee, to bolt straight up and scramble to the door you'd entered from; no regard for what or who you might of disturbed or knocked into/over.

Instead, you'd stood-- shaking, but trying to keep calm, and walked to the back. You headed out the employee entrance, where they'd clock in and out, you think.

You didn't run until you were a good ways away, until you got to a more residential part of the town. Frantically, like a startled animal, you darted past houses and through backyards; running in the general direction of a train track nearby.

God-- you don't know how you got it in your head that train hopping was the easiest way to hightail it out of there, but now, you're very much of the opinion that you will never do that again.

Maybe it was because it was your first time-- or maybe these things never get easier as you keep doing them-- but you were a hairs length away from losing a leg.

No.

You stayed on foot, or on greyhound buses and the occasional passenger train with the small bits of cash you could scrounge up before your escape from the house.

With no particular destination in mind, you found yourself in some non-descript, decrepit convenience store. The tiled floors were cracked and dirty, looking like they'd give you the black plague if you touched them head on; the fluorescent lights above bathed the store in a sickly sort of yellow hue, the buzzing seeming louder than it was supposed to be.

But hey, you weren't a code inspector. You'd gained nothing from ragging on the decrepit state of the place-- it was good enough, to grab some supplies. There were no bugs, and the displays were kept neat and clean; that's all you can really ask for, in a place like this.

When you got up to the checkout lane, the woman manning the register gave you a wary sort of look, on you've become rather accustomed to.

"Where you headin' to, sweetheart? I never seen you 'round these parts before." These sorts of conversations were a dime a dozen, you'd realized. It was only fair, for people to be worried about a random kid wandering about, seemingly unaccomponied by any guardian-- or even a friend.

But, you'd also become accustomed to answering these kinds of questions. To quickly shut them down with a soft hum and a "My aunt. I'm visiting her for a little bit."

You must've gone further south than you'd thought-- it was warm, and muggy, especially for spring. Her accent was heavier than you'd ever heard before, something you don't come across in the midwest. The kind of accent you only get if you've spent your whole life in the south, and never intend to leave it.

It might've been your lack of accent that set off alarm bells in her head, her hand stopping mid-scan. "What's her name, darl'? I bet I know her. Towns like these, you end up knowin' everyone by name."

Ah.

Yeah... that was a bit of a problem. Small towns and all-- but you can't really step into a big city either, yeah? It'd be crawling with cops, and you'd stick out like a sore thumb. Even more so than you do now.

"She's in the town over." You quickly pulled from your ass, but she didn't start scanning again "The next town is a 30 minute drive."

You bite your tongue, trying not to let irritation rise. She meant well, you're sure, but the longer you're here, the more of a chance you get discovered.

"I'm travelling by greyhound. The next bus comes in 10 minutes, and my bus stop is halfway across the city." There, that should put a fire under her feet, right? Make her start scanning again-- a solid enough answer to ease her worries, you hope.

For a moment, you were afraid she wouldn't. That'd she try to lead you to a backroom and call the cops, report a possible runaway. That was something that happened a lot, too. People who meant well, surely, but in the end-- all they could do was harm.

You don't want to think about how your dad would react. How he would punish you for this.

Then, as if angels were shining down from Heaven itself-- she started moving again, and the rest of the transaction went smoothly.

Though, the concern never eased from her eyes. You could still feel her gaze, piercing against your back as you made haste out of the convenience store.

Truth is, you... actually don't know when the next bus was. Or where it was going to. In all honesty, you'd been planning on taking a train out, but that wouldn't be here for a couple hours. You never did much research with it-- beyond making sure it wasn't going to some big city.

But, with a fire started under your own feet, you were forced back to the bus stop, and made to board the very next bus; no matter the desitination.

It seemed like your luck was running out now, as one-way country roads turned into four-lane highways, and when skyscrapers started coming into view; and the sign, declaring "ATLANTA - 5 MILES AHEAD"

You let yourself mumble a little curse, under your breath as you anxiously watched the traffic around you. This wasn't how this was meant to go. Yeah, you're in Georgia-- a far cry from the state of corn, wheat, and soy that you hail from, but still.

Not good.

It's almost certain your face was floating around on various TV programs, missing posters covering light posts and bulletin boards alike-- but you hoped and prayed to anything that'd listen that the efforts to make people aware of your disappearance hadn't stretched outside of your county, or at least your homestate.

But other than being caught, being in a city posed other risks. A lone-travelling teenager wasn't a good thing to be in places like these. You could easily get lost amongst the crowds, yes; but sometimes that worked in your favor, and sometimes it didn't.

This was not one of those times.

You hadn't showered in a while-- a week and a half. Gross? Sure, you'll admit that much; but showering wasn't on your top priority. Escaping your dad was your biggest concern right now, and personal hygiene wasn't something that could trump that need at any rate.

But that singled you out. You were dirty, looked homeless. As you cut through a park, you noticed that various hostile architecture covering nearly every bench around. Ads for Salvation Army and local homeless shelters right by them.

It was obvious this place wouldn't take too kindly to you, if they were trying as hard as you think they are at cracking down on homelessness.

Right before you could exit the park-- you noticed a cop. You eyed them, keeping watch, making sure they don't spot you. What was the chance, that they would? Or if they did, that they'd even care? It looked like they were on break, anyhow.

Just when you deemed yourself in the clear, enough to take your eyes off the officer and focus your gaze ahead of yourself, did you hear someone shout "Hey!"

Maybe it wasn't for you.

It probably wasn't,

but you couldn't take the chance. Regardless of the intent, of who it'd really been aimed it-- if it was even the cop that said it, you took off running. No doubt looking suspicious as hell, in the meanwhile.

Behind you, your paranoia was proven correct when you heard the same voice calling "We got a code 10-110 in Freedom park! Looks to be in early to mid teens, on foot!" You sped up at that-- you didn't recognize the code, obviously. You didn't spend too much time familiarizing yourself with police codes, y'know,

But it didn't bode well at all, how they started describing you to a goddamned T, right down to your brown, fur-lined bomber jacket you'd snagged from the coat closet back home.

You pushed your body harder, lungs burning and throat closing up with fear-- this can't be how it ends. It just can't. You won't let it, you'd rather jump in the Chattahoochee river and swim your way down to Florida then get caught like this.

In your panic, you lost your footing. A loose pebble worked its way under your shoe, and sent you tumbling forward and sprawled out on the hard, unforgiving concrete of a city sidewalk. People avoided you-- especially when, before you could even get up on your knees, the cop grabbed you and kept you down, shouting what sounded like gobble-dee-gook through the radio they'd unclipped from their hip.

In the end, it was a goddamn pebble that took you out! A pebble! You can't even be that mad, it was so ridiculous-- sure, if you thought harder, then that pebble never would've tripped you up if you weren't noticed and subsequently chased by that cop, and you never would've been in Atlanta if you hadn't lied through your teeth to that random, well-meaning southern lady--

You could do this all day, track all your little slights and mistakes to that one harrowing, terrible moment that it all came crashing down.

Two months and 17 days.

That's how long you'd made it.

That's it.

Really, you should be proud of yourself. Again, you never expected yourself to make it that long-- but still, it did nothing to quell that world-ending despair you felt that it'd come to an end.

If anything, it hurt more, that'd you'd lasted longer. You really thought you had a chance, only for a pebble to slip you up, and have shipped right back to your dads arms.

Right back to the basement, that's significantly more bare than before. There were still the basics, but all your magazines, books, journals, your TV, CD player, 3DS, PS3-- everything. Just... Everything was gone, except for the furniture, some clothes, and your blankets and pillows.

Though, he didn't take your stuffed animals. Maybe you should've felt insulted at that, find a way to twist it and make it seem like he was treating you as a child (which, for the record, he absolutely was; but for other reasons).

It'd just be a waste of energy, though. He was like a brick wall now-- those little flinches, the sad looks that'd sometimes find its way on his face, how his apologies sounded so genuine at times...

They were all gone, replaced with a cold sort of determination you'd only seen your dad have when he was working on a particularly high-stakes mission.

You curled up tighter, clutching the Invader Zim GIR plush you'd gotten for your 8th birthday closer to your chest; seeking whatever comfort you could, now that were back here.

Not even home. You refuse to think of this place as home anymore, especially not your dressed-up cell. Even if it had carpet floors instead of cold tiles, and the walls painted a sky blue instead of a dingy grey; you still saw it for what it was.

A prison. And while your dad might've tried to change your opinion on it before, after your little 'stunt', as he'd dubbed it, he all but leaned into your perception of the space.

You heard the door click. And once upon a time, you would've rushed to it; hoped that you could shoulder your way past your dad-- only for him to laugh and think you were just happy to see him. You let him believe that at the time.

And now, you just flip over. You defiantly face the wall, not giving your dad the time of day. It was the only way you could fight back now, and even then you knew it was useless. That he'd force you to engage regardless of what you did,

That, realistically, your silent treatment couldn't last long at all. Eventually, you'll need to talk to him. To ask him for more toothpaste, or make a specific request for dinner; or even ask him the date.

He never told you the last one, always giving you wildly differing answers that'd thrown you off at first, before you caught on. Caught onto how he was trying to keep out of the know on the weather, so you wouldn't try and book it when the weather was more hospitable.

Even as you felt the mattress deep near the end of your metal-framed, twin-sized daybed; you didn't stir. You didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe; like a rabbit caught in the teeth of a tricky fox.

"Kid, you can't keep doing this." You don't answer him. This was by far the longest you'd been able to keep up with this small, but meaningful, act of rebellion. A few days, at least. You don't a way of tracking it indefinitely, but you've figured out a less concrete way of telling the passage of time.

That being how often he visited. It differed, sometimes he'd go longer without visiting, and other times he'd pop up every what-felt-like 30 minutes or so. There was no telling what mood he'd be in for the day, but you managed.

It's been a while, you know that much. And he was getting rather impatient, even if he tried to mask it. You haven't so much as looked his direction this whole time, only getting up and moving around when the coast was clear. When there was neither hide nor hair of your dad's presence,

Save for the camera, stuck up in the corner near the door. You know it's there-- it's a new addition, and you make a point of not looking at it, refusing to acknowledge it. You knew there was a good chance it was just a scare tactic, that it wasn't actually hooked up...

But still, you had to stick with this. You had to be going somewhere with this, after all.

A heavy sigh came next, then your dad shifted from where he sat at the end of the bed. Scooting up, closer to you. It took all you had not to curl up tighter. You had to stay still. You had to act like you weren't there, like you were just a ghost.

When his hand landed on your shoulder, you couldn't help but flinch a little at it. Even though the contact was soft, kind; just like the man who'd raised you all by his lonesome, though his current behavior was a far cry of who he used to be.

Or maybe, just what your perception of him had been. Maybe he was always like this, he just... snapped. Couldn't take it anymore and decided to put his worries to rest for the foreseeable future.

"Listen," You wish you didn't. You wish you could shut off your brain and just lay there, truly motionless; unseeing, unhearing, and unmoving, until he gave up and left you alone.

He knew you had to, though. Otherwise he wouldn't hve kept talking. You have nothing else to do, no other viable option but to listen to what he has to say-- whatever ultimatum he's come up with now.

You won't fold. You won't give in, you tell yourself. Not now, not ever; not until he gives up for good, and lets you back into society.

(deep down, you know that was never an option. especially now. you knew that he had his claws deep in you, that he wasn't going to let go. that he wouldn't dare to, lest his precious, sweet child get hurt along the way)

(it was all for your own good, he'd tell you. you never believed him. maybe he did believe that himself, but you knew better; you knew that, at the core of it, this was for his own benefit. keeping you locked up, away from the world-- it minimized the worries he had about you getting hurt.)

(about you being taken away from him, like so many people before you had. so many loved ones, friends, families, significant others-- he can't have the cycle repeating with you. he just can't. anyone else, anyone else but you.)

His hold on your shoulder tightened. Just a little, but it still made your haunches raise; made the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. You hope he didn't notice.

"The sooner you accept this, the sooner your punishment will end, okay? This is for your own good."

Don't do it, you told yourself-- don't you dare, you don't need to respond--

"You keep saying that." Your voice was rough and croaky from disuse, and you cleared your throat to try and take a little bit of the edge off. You could almost feel the brightness and warmth of your dads smile, bearing into your back-- now that you finally deemed him worthy enough of a response. "And I'll keep saying it, as long as I mean it."

You huffed-- his definition of punishment had always been... loose. He never took it out on you, rather on others. He wasn't violent or rude per se, but if one of your friends were present when you two got into a tight spot...

Well. Let's just say your dad can yell like a drill sergeant if he's pushed to it. And that those friends never showed their faces around you again, in fear of inciting his wrath again. And you don't blame them.

But he's never done that to you, no-- you were his precious little angel, of course. He'd much sooner blame himself for being too 'lax' on you, that he left any doubt in your head that he didn't mean the best for you.

It was all very backhanded, how he assumed that you running away was not because of how insanely overprotective he was being-- but because he wasn't being overprotective enough.

Really, someone needs to study his brain. Maybe he got something in his system when he was on a mission, that crossed wires in his brain and made him think that this was perfectly fine. Lying about your kid being ill and locking you away for no fault of your own.

You two lapse into an uncomfortable silence, but not for long. No. Never for long, not with your dad around.

"I'm sorry you feel this way." There it is. He always says that-- not 'I'm sorry I'm basically holding you captive in the basement' or 'I'm sorry for not taking your thoughts, feelings, and dreams into consideration'. No, it's always 'i'm sorry you feel this way' or 'i'm sorry that you don't like it here',

Always followed up by an excuse, which speaking of, should be coming right about... "But there was no way around it. I just want the best for you, kid."

There we go-- he says that one a lot, 'there was no way around it'. You go to argue, but decide against it. It never gets you anywhere, and you consider going back to the silent treatment.

Until his hold on your shifted-- he flipped you over and pulled you up to sit. It never failed to spook you, how easily he could still move you around like you were a toddler. He worked as a government agent-- duh, he's going to be strong, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

He could snap you like a goddamned toothpick if he so wished-- but you knew that wasn't a concern, not in the slightest. You much more afraid of him snapping anyone who was unfortunate to get close to you like a toothpick.

And then, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you close. The sort of side-hug was uncomfortable for you, physically speaking. Your neck straining at the angle it landed in, and you not caring enough to make nay move to alleviate it.

Surely, your dad noticed it-- but didn't comment on it. He did shift a little, though. Tried to have you more comfortable.

It worked a bit, but not by much. You couldn't be bothered to try any further.

"I love you, kid. You know that, don't you?" All he got in response was a little grunt, short and curt. What followed was the saddest little laugh you'd ever heard from your dad. "I know, I know. It doesn't feel like that, but I really am trying."

He pulled you closer, the hug feeling more like a boa constrictor's embrace than the comforting hold of a parent. "I can't lose you. I can lose anything else, but not you. Not my kid."

That part, you believed. Just for the clear, rock-solid resolve in his tone. You know he loves you-- you know that he doesn't want to lose you,

and that was part of the problem, a major one, no less.

"...I love you too." You manage to cough out, and only then did he release you from the ever-tightening, awkward side hug. As soon as you were free, you flopped right back on your side.

You didn't flip around to the face the wall just yet, thought. And your dad took that as an invitation for conversation-- you weren't too active in it, but you did give some input here and there.

[hexhomos]

Hey man, I follow you on bluesky, but I’m too shy to interact openly 😔 Could you maybe share more about the state of the fandom before season 2? I was watching Arcane as it was coming out in 2021, but I never interacted with the fandom back then so a lot of things that you say come as a surprise… Even I knew that a lot of people disliked Jayce tho which was crazy to me because he was my favorite after Jinx and Silco and I always found him to very compellingly written. But I never thought that he was hated to such an extent! Was Jayvik really a crackship with a small fanbase as some people say? I knew it was much smaller than Caitvi which I thought was totally fair and understandable, but I’m pretty sure that I saw a decent amount of fan art on my Twitter TL back then…

Its very inaccurate to call jayvik a crackship during season 1 LOLLLL s1act1 had such a JV boom it was partially marketed by word of mouth as possible canon yaoi. And I say "marketed" with intent, netflix official pages and riot official pages made posts/memes with these two, including some sexual innuendo. Keep in mind, vikjayce was an old ship: from 2012 onwards there's already faint niches in the community and even fanfics.

I have some of those social media posts here.

The marketing yaoi memes became a problem after act2 came out and a lot of the audience felt rightfully betrayed/led on by corporate; i think on the netflix side they got confused on who the canon gay pair was but old time players were well acquainted with riot's HORRID handling of mlm couples - the disappointment wrt jayvik in season 1 was palpable and impossible to ignore, partially because their stories WERE well liked ingame as their lore selves, and in act1 as a potential couple.

for a little while back there "riot HATES gay men" became a whole memetic chorus repeated ad nauseam, and this did affect the decisionmaking process. In the following months they got lil nas X to collab on their yearly esports theme and collab on the new gay champion release (a man permanently separated from his ex partner because he was terrible in the relationship. no comment) and we also got the pride month reconfirmation that tfgraves are gay for eachother, though once again not in a relationship and not allowed to even confess, they were just posing in general proximity under the rainbow flag; an obvious step down from the pitch where they had Old Romantic History. Not even a kiss. You can sense the pattern on how riot approaches gay men here, and /why/ a lot of people on the fence have rallied behind jayvik after season 2. It would finally subvert the trend.

I would say post season 1 it was obviously caitvi city, with some other niches, biggest ones being timebomb and jayvik. Caitvi were Mega viral, successfully tricked general audiences into calling the game "league of lesbians" for a while back there, ascribing progressivity to the company where it was pinkmoneying at best. People's general hatred of jayce made it so he was underutilized, misread and mischaracterized at large, INCLUDING in caitvi or general fanworks. He was a republican trumpian dumbjock stocks guy, insert your least liked man here. It was not uncommon to click on a jayvik fic/fanart and see some sort of sentiment related to "oh jayce sucks but someone needs to kiss viktor", and this was mild ribbings when compared to people who DIDN'T ship it. On these other waters it was common to see "Viktor deserves much better!!!!!!" plastered on all the walls. hence the massive y/n stats on viktors page.

still, people who stuck by jayvik were generally doubly invested on it, and they even got a couple of zines made! Secret santa projects were also up and running for some years. There was fanmerch though not as much as we are seeing now, and also a recapture of league vikjayce content in much, much smaller numbers. Even back then and in the years before season 2 some rioters would already share and interact with these fanworks; people insisting that jayvik is "new" or was uncommon before are extremely wrong. In AO3 stats alone they were in the top 3 league ships of all time after season 1, and they are firmly #2 as of now, rapidly growing. The fanbase is cosmically larger now but the seed was always there.

[greeniegirl23]

Feels Like The Very First Time (ft. Sub Alastor!)

(Minors, don't interact! Go mop the floor!! >:( P.S. I feel like we as a fandom need to experiment more with Virgin Alastor, I love this idea of slowly introducing him into sex. :3)

A year and three months. That's roughly about how long you and Alastor had been dating. It started out as a partnership before blossoming into something more. You found flowers at your personal office in the hotel for a while until Alastor finally worked up the nerve to even ask you to dinner.

Courting The Radio Demon was nice, he was tall and handsome, sure, but he was also a really good listener and tended to give sound advice despite his skills of deception. Essentially he treated you like a Queen and you practically wanted for nothing.

That is, until you decided you both were ready to elevate your relationship in a more intimate manner.

Alastor, of course opted to take the role of being dominant as long as you could take such a major transition slowly. Starting small with extra kisses on the lips, teasing touches here or there, and eventually full blown make out sessions. Alastor tried, you know he really did but ultimately always ended up ruining the mood via happy little accidents.

He tried to cradle your body only to scratch you enough to cause pain, the bad kind of pain that made him have to stop and tend to your wounds. You told him it was okay and that you could try again another time. Okay, he could do that. Cradling didn't work so he thought to try love bites. Everything was going well until the taste of your blood made his cannibal instincts kick in, resulting in him biting the shit out of you. He apologized to you for a week and a day after giving you light first aid. Fuck, alright.

Maybe if he tried to hold you with the pads of his fingers instead of his claws? It was going well, amazing even! He managed to work adorable whimpers from your lips, pinning you down on the bed while giving you proper hickies on your skin when all of a sudden you started laughing because surprise, surprise! This little darling is ticklish.

No matter how many times Alastor tried to pretend it didn't bother him but you could see through his lies as his confidence seemed to diminish. Every time you tried to encourage or initiate a moment, he had an excuse ready to throw on the table to skedaddle out of the situation as fast as possible. If you tried to talk to him about it, he would tell you he was fine and quickly change the topic to something else. It didn't help that he was slightly embarrassed for being a virgin as well, but he was too proud to ask for advice from anyone much less admit to such a thing. One day you decided you had enough of this loonicy and that you were gonna take control. A sense of determination overcame your person.

You were so going to do this!!

Starting simple with your beloved, you essentially did everything he did, without the screw ups of course. Keeping everything light, loose, and loving you eventually made it to where he was comfortable with him making out with you in bed again. Then as it got more heated, you slowly meandered your way on top of him. Breaking the kiss, he was surprised to say the least.

"..Darling?" He questioned, with one eyebrow raised and a puppy dog tilt to his head. You silenced his query with a flat response. "Do you trust me?"

He hesitated, but eventually gave you a small nod in confirmation. Giving him a quick peck on the lips you silently promised to take care of him. "If you need me to stop, just say the word."

It didn't take long for you to find his weak spots. Behind his ears, the back of his neck, the base of his tail, his chest underneath all the deer fluff.

Soon enough he was practically puddy in your hands with a fairly sized tent in his pants that you had been teasing lightly. Grinding yourself nice and slowly against him.

It was interesting really. Your big bad Radio Demon was reduced to a huffing, blushing, panting mess. Right now though, he was your Mona Lisa and he was fucking beautiful. You made sure you made him frustrated, just enough to move his hips against yours in a desperate attempt for relief.

With a swift movement of your body, you ended up on your knees in front of him, taking your time to work his pants and boxers off. You wasted no time popping the tip of his length. A bitter, salty taste of his precum bloomed on your tongue. Taking half of him into your mouth, you gave him careful licks and purposeful sucks. All though you did keep it light in order not to make him too overwhelmed.

Unsurprising to you, he didn't exactly moan, but he did groan in a unique radio-esqe way. His other sounds were the same way, being a product of his radio abilities. His internal dials flipped through stations that played fuzzy gibbering from long ago. Long ears were pinned back, and his smile was struggling to stay up with every move of your lips.

Immediately you knew when you hit the spot, when he jolted rather aggressively. Letting out a small ‘agh!’. Grabbing the sheets on the bed until the stuffing spilled out, static jibbering became straight up interference and the buzzing noises spiked in volume.

"Please!.. Darling--...--I need...!" He somehow pulled together voices from different stations to form coherent thoughts, rendering Alastor into a form of speechlessness in his own way. A rare form for him.

"Are you sure you're ready?" You asked teasingly. Pulling away from him while rubbing his tip with the soft pad of your thumb.

"Yes!!" A loud screech with a male voice echoed in the room.

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you licked your lips to savor his taste and gave him a minute to breathe as you removed your panties, before seating yourself back into his lap, trying not to moan as your sex made beautiful friction with his.

Alastor could feel the small river of slickness that was slowly covering his length. You were teasing him like the sly girl you were and just as he was about to protest, a rather pleasant warmth slowly wrapping around him. “Damn woman…” he thought. Clenching his teeth together as you sunk down on him further and further, until your hips were flush with one another.

You'd be lying if you said the way he seized and twitched didn't bring a puff of pride to your chest. The way he closed his eyes and sighed, the few whimpers that he did let out made you clench around him. The selfish thought of shattering his pelvis with your hips until you milked him for all he was worth crossed your mind, but you shook it away because of your promise. Perhaps another day you could do that. Your eyelids fluttered as the top of his length nestled snugly against your cervix, moaning at the sensation. Fuck you had been waiting for this..More lengthy than girthy, he fit damn their perfectly inside your walls.

You rolled your hips to test his reaction, he seemed perfectly fine, egar if you will.

Taking that as a green light to keep going, you started at a slow pace that didn't require too much work from either of you. You could hear the soft clicks from where you were intertwined, blushing from such lewd sounds but being happy that you but finally, finally getting the release of pent up emotions you had for Alastor after so long. You didn't mind all the other things he did for you to make you feel loved, but this was different. This was trust and vulnerability in its purest form, you felt flattered that he'd let you put him in such a position, much less have complete control over said situation.

It didn't take long for you to speed up, riding him in the most passionate way you could. Peppering his face with kisses, his neck with hickeys, and using your hand to explore his broad shoulders and lean built torso.

Alastor wasn't slacking off either, it was adorable to see him try to mimic what you were doing. Being mindful of his claws, he placed his hands on your hips and started to experimentally thrust upwards, receiving beautiful moans from you in return from the pressure. He felt alive and alert, everything was on fire in the best way possible. Pleasure burned in his stomach as he knew what was coming but he didn't want it to end so soon. You both had just gotten started!

He twitched aggressively inside you. It was obvious he was trying to hold himself back from cumming so soon but you weren't going to let that happen. Wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning against his body for more leverage, you started bouncing off of his lap at a hard pace. His radio static spiked to a very high pitch and you could have sworn you heard him shout your name. His hands gripped your sides and left deep scratches in their wake but you didn't care, you were going to make him bust a nut if it was the last thing you did, you had enough of this constant holding back nonsense.

You moaned in his ear. The change in position allowed his skin to run against your clit in a satisfactory way, bringing you closer and closer to your high as well. Skin slapped against skin and you knew he was so close by the way he started to desperately move on his own, thrusting while still letting off a thick buzz of radio interference. Suddenly a sharp microphone screech omitted from Alastor's person, his body tensed entirely as he shot rope after rope of his cum directly to the deepest part of you. Throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, almost as if what he was feeling was too much for him.

It felt good to have that warm and filling feeling inside you. It felt good to watch your lover fall apart at the seams when he was usually so composed. You'd never forget the sight of his face, the smell of his sweat, or the beautiful sounds he made while you slowly brought him down from cloud 9.

Despite the fact that he came quick you were more happy that you made him cum at all. Crimson talons grew lax around your waist while the results from your bold attitude proceeded to form a white ring around the base of Alastor's pelvis. Lazily he rolled his hips into yours, just to get those last few sparks of absolute pleasure before the feeling died out completely.

After he remembered where he was and what year he was in, Alastor’s jaw hung open for a moment as he swallowed thickly. Slowly, he held his head up and with a few deep breaths he spoke using his mouth again. “You didn't..I..couldn't..--”

“Shhh, it's okay.” You cooed. “It was your first time. I'm not mad.” Alastor slowly shook his head, still huffing and puffing. His voice didn't hold his usual Transatlantic accent at the moment, instead you were blessed with hearing a rare but old Southern drawl. “That isn't fair to you.”

“I say it is. I had fun making you feel good, I know how your mistakes were making you feel somewhat insecure…”

Crimson eyes turned away from your own as a faint red dusted his cheeks. There was no use in trying to convince you into letting him help you, the look in your eye told him you had already made up your mind and that he was the priority when it should have been the reverse.

He should have been the one holding you, caressing every inch of you without messing up. Kissing you in the most intimate places until you came undone by his hands and calling his name to the high heavens.

Alastor's thoughts were cut short when you pressed the back of his head into your bosom. Gently scratching behind his ears and kissing his forehead with a giggle. “Stop thinking and cuddle me..”

His ears twitched from the contact. Wanting to object to the demand, he decided it was pointless and instead leaned back into the pillows at the head of his king sized mattress. Exhaustion overtook your body as you began to get sleepy, nuzzling against Alastor's warmth you mumbled. “I love you Alastor..”

“I adore you as well darling,” He paused. “Wouldn't you prefer it if I removed myself from you.”

“Nuh uh.” You hummed. “It's just fine where it is..”

[notartisticdraw]

wait, if ur not blodthegreatrouge, how come u do pjs daycare stuff when it also had a lot of the controversy on it?

A few reasons, but I can promise you, I am 100% not rouge lmao. I think she's in her early 30s, where I'm currently 19. If you trace my blog through my archive, you can see when I joined years after her initial popularity and how godawful my art was in attempting to replicate her style (since I was even heavily influenced as a child). It's also uncomfortable seeing how much of a pro-rouge advocate I was, but I was 12/13 when I joined Tumblr and began drawing Undertale fanart. This was also far before everyone started calling her out in 2021, when I had mostly forgotten about what happened in her AUs

As a child, I was obsessed with the AU and the characters. They made up an important part of my preteen years, as did several other major Undertale comics (Geno's Christmas Party, Handplates, Aftertale, etc.) despite all of the weird/uncomfortable plots rouge shoved into it. I just knew the majority of it made me happy, y'know?

Anyway, my continuation AU of PJ's Daycare (PJ's Daycare 10 Years Later) does not promote the original material but rather tweaks and continues the story in a way I presume most original fans want it depicted---meaning back to its roots of what it is: a Daycare attended by several of the most popular Sanses as children, and popular shipchildren raising them

I wanted to bring back the old whimsical feeling into it and mold the original material into something better and newer. This includes shifting several parts of the original story like, idk, not having kinder!Fresh's love interest be an actual adult, reworking (or entirely removing) the awful Geno suicide depiction, booting proships out of the AU, reworking the love triangle between Palette, Goth, and Cray since they're all 12 - 13, and a lot of interactions made me really uncomfortable (almost sexual undertones AND THEY'RE CHILDREN), etc.

I get many comments on posts describing it as the fandom reclaiming the media from a bad person and fixing it up, and honestly, this is the only AU I could attempt to fix from Rouge. All her other AUs are far too gone, whereas PJ's Daycare had mistakes but was nowhere near as insane as her other stuff (NaJ, for instance)

Again, my content does not promote Rouge or anything she's done. She's awful and shouldn't be allowed online after the mess she's caused and doesn't care cleaning up. I'm just fixing a childhood favorite comic for myself and the community

urgggg sorry for rambling. its like 7:30 am and I sorta didn't sleep at all so my cranium ain't working 100%. hope this sorta explains things tho

[voonroo]

Hell? [01]

⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝

Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.

I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!

My head hurts…

Am I lying down?

Is it raining?

Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.

You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?

Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.

The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.

“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.

“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.

“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.

Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.

“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.

“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-

“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.

You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.

“What's your name?”

“I don't… I don't know?”

The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.

Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.

Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.

You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…

You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.

Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.

“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”

The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.

The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.

Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.

Word Count: 817

A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!

[tubbytarchia]

Thoughts on the dynamic between TIES Tango and BB Jimmy? Or even the silly rivalry they have in SL? There’s just so much adorable fluffy potential there and I’m just 💭

- 🧚🏼‍♀️

YOU'RE RIGHT THERE IS AND I LOVE THEM. SL ranchers are SO cute and precious its off the charts. Limited Life however...

Ok drawing that hurt a bit so I'm immediately following up with this

Limited Life is so carefree in general it's SO fun and probably the least angst material out of any of the Life series to me (of course there is still plenty, can't underestimate the traffic fandom's ability to find angst in everything) including Tango and Jimmy. They're so fun and you're right that it's a lot of fluff potential, mostly because Jimmy being a "bad boy" is so funny. BUT THE, MAN. TH The fact that this is the one after DL, after Jimmy so desperately wanted to apologize to Tango for how they went out and who knows if he got to do that or not. I love the idea of them reuniting in some temporary afterlife game or dark void following their deaths, but also what if they didn't get to talk... maybe it was only Tango's distant messages "you're still here? It's over. Go home. Go" that reached him and then he just didn't dare to talk about it other than the one time he instinctually called him "rancher" again. I can't help but be filled with angst when I think about LimL ranchers but I trust that where there is angst, hurt/comfort is sure to follow.... If not then I just die I guess

The bad boy sunglasses are very convenient to hide the look with which he gazes upon Tango from a distance... But then oop Tango hops through the nether portal on top of bad boy mansion and Jimmy decides to go for it, to try and harken back to how they used to be to gauge how Tango will react when he goes "The boogie's being chosen, you're here with us now, we have to look into each other's eyes!" (paraphrasing) and then he's like "oh Impulse is here too" lmao and then that's just kinda it. And then TIES blows up bread bridge and auughhghhh you know??? I'm so bad at expressing how I feel, sorry this is a ramble. But I love them so very dearly and I could absolutely imagine inconspicuous moments between them. Like whenever I think of potential LimL rancher fluff my mind goes to this one fanfic about Jimmy being sleep deprived and he just kinda ends up at TIES and Tango puts him to sleep. Stuff like that

And idk what more to say about Secret Life. Their little rivalry is so funny and literally idk if it's the fanart that has absolutely fucked with my head but every time I think about them I imagine them awkwardly flirting on complete accident and just being kind of weird but. very lovable. They had only two notable interactions and those two interactions left me permanently deranged

ANYWAY THANKS FOR THE ASK ANON

[blackkatmagic]

Can I ask why you're so strongly against emojis as comments?

So there are...two parts to this answer. One is in the frame of like...my brain interprets someone dropping an emoji as basically the equivalent of a like. "I was here, but I didn't like what you created enough to say anything about it." And I get that, truly. But due to physical and mental health things in my recent life, writing has been hard. Getting that kind of response is super disheartening, even if I know logically that most people don't see emoji comments the same way I do.

The other part is that I'm old. I've been in fandom for a long time - I was on email lists writing ST fanfic, and then in weird subgroup forums where you were only allowed to write certain things the mods felt were "canon-supported", and then finally on more mainstream sites like ffnet and AO3. Fandom's always been a community for me, right from the first. I would not still be writing if it hadn't been for the handful of fans who were exceptionally kind and encouraging to a nerdy German girl who wrote in bad English and had weird ideas for plotlines and talked too much. They were the people who kept me going, having conversations with me and leaving kind comments on objectively bad fics and getting jazzed about the same things as me.

In fandom as a whole, emoji comments are a very new phenomenon. I've gone back to look, and they only started becoming common about two years ago. And now, before I asked people not to leave them, they were rapidly becoming the majority of the comments I received.

Again, I get why. It's an easy way to show appreciation. But it's also a complete lack of engagement. It means someone liked something! But as the writer you have no idea what. There's no community to it, just bland consumption of the content you're rolling out. No one is talking about fandom, they're just taking. And I see my hit counts. I know that's always happened, but it's getting to be more and more of a thing. Emoji spamming on every single chapter of a 70-chapter fic might feel, to the commenter, like they're being super supportive, but it's also less impactful for a writer and a fellow fan than a person who leaves one comment that says something they liked about the plot or the writing style or some neat flip on a canon trope.

So yeah. Basically it's a "get off my lawn" thing about how the youngsters in fandom have no appreciation for the effort artists and writers and the like put in, but. I don't think I'm wrong, given the way things are trending.

Anyway. Reblog things, comment on things, send people asks, interact with things if you want fandom to keep going, my dudes. Otherwise it's going to die out. And people dropping emojis instead of words 99 times out of 100 is a symptom of that.

[antianakin]

Regarding Codywan; which one of the pair do you think would be more likely to fail at self-care, forcing the other to get them into bed, insist they take a break from the planning table and so on?

Cody. 1000% Cody.

For one, Cody is simply younger than Obi-Wan and so is going to have less experience in general, but he's also led an IMMENSELY sheltered life that was full of lots of strict routines that didn't allow him to do much of anything beyond what the Kaminoans allowed him to do. And there is no indication that one of those things the clones were taught was good mental health practices. In fact, you could argue that we have evidence they were explicitly NOT taught mental health practices since I think they tell us in TCW that the clones were told they'd had regular stress somehow engineered out of them. If the Kaminoans believed that, then presumably they wouldn't have felt the need to teach the clones how to effectively HANDLE stress beyond just... pushing through it to complete the objective/mission.

Cody is an incredibly competent person who seems to be pretty steady in a crisis, for sure, but I think he's primarily steady IN SPECIFIC SITUATIONS, all of which relate to battles and war and dealing with authorities. Take him out of that situation and he's probably going to struggle a little more with understanding the parameters of what's expected of him. He'd pick that kind of thing up VERY quickly, but it seems like something all of the clones would have to learn after leaving Kamino. Basic things like how to go shopping or going out to eat, even going to a club and the expectations for the social interactions in those places is going to have a learning curve.

I also think that the clones are probably going to be fairly good at managing physical health because maintaining their ability to do their jobs in that way would likely be something the Kaminoans would have kept in mind, but managing their emotional and mental health would be something entirely new. Like I said, they have been led to believe they don't experience stress and all of its related problems, so understanding what they feel and the best ways to handle it are going to be completely beyond them.

And this is where the Jedi can come in. They're literally intergalactic therapists, this is their bread and butter. Helping the clones understand what they're feeling and how to best manage what's happening to them would likely be one of the first building blocks of trust between the two groups. But there's obviously one Jedi among potentially THOUSANDS of troopers, so they probably start by passing along advice to a few of the higher ranked troopers and hope that it trickles down through the other men. And this could easily lead to some bonding between Obi-Wan and Cody, with Obi-Wan recognizing when Cody is pushing himself too far for too long and learning his tells for when he's tired but can go a little longer vs when he's basically dead on his feet and SHOULDN'T go any longer, or when he's in a mood to listen to advice from someone about getting rest vs when he's in a mental place where that's just not going to be taken well and might actually cause Cody to push himself even harder.

I'll also point out that, despite popular fandom characterization, Obi-Wan really doesn't show any inclination to push himself beyond what he can handle in canon. In what I think is season one of TCW, there's a moment somewhere between Obi-Wan and Anakin where Obi-Wan asks ANAKIN if he's slept and can tell that Anakin hasn't, implying that Obi-Wan probably HAS slept despite the stress of the situation. And then there's Landing at Point Rain where Obi-Wan gets badly injured and proceeds to sit through the majority of the battle. He only gets up ONCE, when it seems like their defenses are about to be broken and he has absolutely no other choice but to fight, and then as soon as reinforcements arrive he immediately sits back down again and STAYS seated even through Anakin and Ahsoka arriving, their mission debrief, and being treated by a medic. Everyone else literally has to gather around him because he refuses to move from his seated position. He never tries to get up and fight when he doesn't have to nor does he seem to avoid or refuse medical aid once it's available. At the end, he keeps leaning on Anakin and Ki-Adi-Mundi as he is led to a ship that will take him away from the field so he can get MORE medical aid and doesn't seem to be refusing that, either.

Even in the context of the films, during the fight with Dooku where he gets badly injured, he stays DOWN after that and lets Anakin handle the fight instead because he knows that trying to get up and keep fighting would just be a distraction. And it isn't that he CAN'T get up, we see him stand up and limp away later, but that there would be very little point in him trying to do so. And he doesn't seem to be trying to hide his injuries after the battle's over, either, he's very obviously limping and holding his arm.

Which isn't to say that Obi-Wan couldn't occasionally choose to pull all nighters if he felt it necessary for one reason or another, or that he would NEVER push himself through pain or exhaustion in certain situations, but I don't think that the fandom characterization of him as someone who can barely take care of himself and constantly hides injuries and avoids medical attention to the point of literally causing himself further harm is consistent with how he's actually shown in canon. We don't ever get to see Cody react to being injured, but given what we know of the clones' upbringing, it just makes more sense to me that Cody would struggle with pushing himself beyond what he SHOULD and with managing his own emotions.

[f1-stuff]

hello mal. would you share your favourite charlos moments as teammates? i would love to know what you really think is the best

Hello! I was putting this off bc it was causing me much distress just thinking about which moments I would choose, but here we are! You didn't specify how many so I narrowed it down to my all-time top 10, with a few honorable mentions.

You did specify 'as teammates', so I'm gonna leave out the infamous singapore 2018 pool, tho it is an all-time charlos moment to be sure... The order is honestly kind of random because I found it really hard to rank them (don't ask a mother to choose her favorite child!)

10. Cookie decorating!! (2022) - I love this video so much (which is why I made a whole charlos flirting video essay about it). It's just chock-full of classic ways the two of them interact and joke around (Charles trying to blindfold Carlos for him, constantly trying to steal things out of his hands, both whistling/humming the same song at different points, touching constantly...). And why were they sitting like this?? (we know why) Anyway, I don't think we talk about it enough.

9. Monza Ferrari battle (2023) - I simultaneously love and hate this moment asfghdka which is maybe why it's down so low on the list. It's the most adrenaline and anxiety I've ever had watching F1 (I was literally running circles around my living room, yelling at the TV). But I think it also just exemplifies how competitive the two of them are, how hard they race each other without crashing. Like, their rivalry is core characterization for them, therefore it had to be on the list!!

(their tyres are literally kissing) ((this was foreplay for them))

8. Bahrain 1-2 (2022) - A classic!! Their first double podium and 1-2 as teammates! Their hug in parc ferme!! Carlos trying to pour wine into Charles' mouth on the podium!!! They were so giddy and happy, and it felt like the start of an incredible year...(we all know how it really turned out 🥴) This could maybe be higher on the list, but it feels so long ago now that I think I'd need to rewatch the race to draw back up those emotions again.

7. 'Lord Perceval' is coined (2021) - This whole moment is so cute, and it became pretty iconic since the team would go on to use the nickname a lot, and it spread throughout the fandom. It's sort of funny bc they were clearly joking around, but it caught on. They became the Smooth Operator and Lord Perceval, and I think that's beautiful.

6. Monaco hug (2024) - It was actually harder than I thought to choose between this one and the Monza '24 one. They both feature Carlos being super happy for a Charles win, his patented charles hair grab, as well as charlos cradling each other heart-to-heart, cheek-to-cheek. ❤️ I went with Monaco bc it came first in the year so had a greater impact on me, and bc Charles finally broke the Monaco curse.

5. Carlos' birthday surprise (2022) - Set the standard for Charlos birthday shenanigans. Charles complaining about his legs cramping in the cupboard LOL. I just love how happy Carlos looked in all those clips... Also, they were on their honeymoon that weekend or something, because there was also the 'I know you very well' hilarious lissie mackintosh vid and the 'you're doing great love'.

4. The bracelet video (2023) - Just...iconic. Charles asking Carlos for help with his bracelet and Carlos calling him 'darling,' asking for a kiss afterward. They've never been more married.

3. THE tiktok (2022) - This might be too high on the list tbh, but for the sheer shock value of waking up to it that day and the mania it caused in the charlos community, it's a hard one to beat. 😂

2. C² song challenge in Fiorano (2021) - this one gets the place of honor as #2 bc it's charlos' favorite moment together (along with Bahrain '22). They've both mentioned a few times that they fondly remember that day, and how much they laughed. It's also at the very beginning of their partnership, and it shows how immediately they acted like giddy besties.

1. Chili plushie (2024) - Okay. I guess?? This is my all-time favorite charlos moment??? 🥺 It was my favorite of 2024, so it could be recency bias. But something about it being the start of their bittersweet end...Carlos gifting him the chili...'so you remember me for the rest of your life'...Charles in his denial era...oof. I just really love these two, and this moment made me emotional about their years of friendship, rivalry, and shenanigans soon coming to an end.

This was so hard!!! But alas, I forced myself to narrow it down, and also to try and represent all of the years of their partnership, in different scenarios (racing/non-racing). Obviously, there are so many other amazing moments, so I'll consider it a blessing that we are so spoiled for choice as charlos fans ❤️

Honorable mentions (that I struggled not to include):

Drivers' parade car with swapped names

'Jazz'

Mexico balls grab

Blindfolded sim racing bdsm hair-pulling !!

Train sandwich share

Miami start-stop challenge

'jamon iconico'

Jenga challenge (my first ever f1 gifset!!)

Charles snoozing next to Carlos during football

Goggle games

'Take off your clothes, Carlos'...

There's just so many 😌

[the-family-business-83]

Unexpected Calling – Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: None for this chapter, it's really all fluff. Maybe a slight disclaimer about a lil kid interacting with a total stranger and some mom panic, but nothing bad happens!

Word count: 2.4k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

A/N: Trying to let myself just enjoy wirting and not overthink it all too much, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little bit of filler but I thought it was cute and it was fun to write. And yes, I know, it took forever to get posted. I had a lot going on, and I still may not be posting super frequently but to those of you who love this series so far, rest assured: I will still post, even if it's slow.

Any and all mistakes are my own as this chapter is unbeta'd, I did all my own editing/proofreading for this.

Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Transportation had really come a long way from what he'd been so used to when he was younger. There were planes that's the air of the skies with their quiet rumblings, helicopters that you could hear coming long before they appeared, and cars. Cars were so different these days, he'd gotten used to them but it just wasn't the same. Some part of him still couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of phones being able to connect to the car. And that was just one of many new upgrades.

But Bucky didn't take his trip by air, customs were a bitch to get through on a normal day let alone when he needed to bring weapons with him. He didn't take a train either, because–well. He'd had an uneasy feeling with them ever since 1944 when he fell down the mountainside. So, instead he went by cross-country bus, and kept to himself in his seat once he got on and found one near the back where it was mostly empty. Being perfectly on time, if not a little early, there were a fewhandfuls people that he watched enter in the time that he waited for the bus to start moving. His watchful eye kept them in sight here and there but for the most part, he simply pulled his dark red baseball cap down a little lower and looked out the window to help hide his face. He could only hope that when one passenger entered with not one, not two; but three small children, that they wouldn't be very loud.

Oh how very wrong he had been. Not even 20 minutes into the trip and two of the rugrats were already whining and fighting with each other. Bucky could only stare at them in distaste as he blinked at the sight, wondering how in the world such tiny things could make so much noise. Granted, he'd never really had to deal with children, not like this anyway. And they couldn't have been any older than 3 or 5, each of them. The oldest of the three seemed to be perfectly fine and well-occupied, thank heavens but that didn't make it any more desirable

Sucking a deep breath in, Bucky suppressed the urge to ask the clearly struggling mother to turn off the screeching, and pulled out a book from his day-pack, beginning to flip through it to find his spot. Maybe if he just pretended they weren't there, they would disappear from his mind.

Not likely, but the effort was still made as he focused on the pages of the small paperback copy of The Hobbit he'd brought with him. Glancing up when it once again wasn't working well, he was caught by surprise when suddenly the older child was standing right there by his seat row, and admittedly he tensed in reaction as a sort of mini-flinch. She hadn't said a word, he hadn't even heard her walking over. But there she was, standing with her stuffed bunny in her arms, simply staring at him while he did the same. Both were quiet for a long moment before Bucky glanced up the way towards where her mother sat with her brothers, clearing his throat. "Can I…help you?" He asked a bit awkwardly as he brought his furrowed-brow gaze back to the little girl. Once more, she didn't really say anything, instead just looking him over quietly. Then, she climbed herself up into the seat next to his since it was open, and Bucky was starting to wish he'd put one of his bags there. "Hey, look, kid- your mom- ….what are you doing?"

She shrugged as he stumbled his words out, and glanced down at her bunny fiddling with it a little as she got settled in the seat. "Too loud." Her answer came simply, and while it didn't answer his question completely, he definitely understood the feeling.

Sighing slightly, he glanced towards her troubled mother once more, and then back to bunny-girl. "...Alright, what's your name kid?"

"Mandy." She replied quietly, glancing up at him a moment later with big green eyes. "What's yours mister?"

"Bucky. My name's Bucky." The man paused for a moment then, almost as if debating whether he should send her back to her family yet or not, but she was calm and quiet, and wasn't harming anything. And it wasn't like he was going to let anything happen to a little kid, so he dismissed the idea for now and instead went back to his book.

It was a minute or so later that he felt the little girl–Mandy, he reminded himself silently–leaning over the arm rest between them slightly to see what he was reading. Brows knitting once again, Bucky glanced from the pages to the young girl, whose curly pigtails somewhat bounced in the way of his view of the words. His mouth parted a fraction, ready to let something slip off his tongue to tell her to sit back and let him read. But nothing came. He didn't know how to tell the girl to get out of his space without, well… being a dick. This was a *child* it would have been different had it been an adult. So instead he simply blinked at her in silence as he debated how to handle it.

Mandy seemed to sense he was looking at her though, because then she met his gaze and inched back into place in her seat, curling around her stuffed, yellow bunny, the apology clear in her demeanor. "I just wanted to see your story." She muttered out, albeit the words likely came out a tad muffled because her bunny's head was pressed against her mouth slightly.

Kids. There was something about them that just- got to him. Admittedly, maybe some part of him had a soft spot. One that he'd probably always had, an instinct he'd never been able to shake. And maybe there was something about that moment that reminded him of the slightly younger girl that he'd been on his way to help, that made him realize he was already traveling across the states to investigate the disappearance of some kid's mother. A small gesture really couldn't hurt him. He may not have said anything, but he did nod, and as he brought his crisp blue hues back to the book in his hands, he started reading the words out to her, quietly but still loud enough to be heard against her brothers' tantrums.

Whatever she'd been expecting, Mandy seemed delightfully surprised when he began reading to her, and her eyes lit up as she looked from him to the book, leaning over once again but this time while staying back more in her seat meaning her head rested against his arm lightly, so that he could still see but she couldn't help wanting to peek. There was something about how trusting she was, about how trusting kids often seemed to be, that just genuinely baffled him. Maybe it was because he'd been so jaded for so long that it was just a mind boggling concept to see such innocence. Or maybe it simply was a brilliant anomaly that children lacked the cynicism of their parents and the adults around them, that they saw things grown-ups didn't and thought of things that were unique to them.

Bucky didn't know when the crying and whining had stopped, but eventually the sun went down around them and it was dark in the bus, nothing but the glow-in-the-dark caution stickers and the light of the full moon to let him read the words on the pages. And just as he'd glanced over towards the little girl next to him, seeing that she was well on her way to passing out completely, he heard her mother patter over looking both exhausted and annoyed. "Mandy- for God's sake, you cannot-" only then did the woman seem to register that her daughter was half asleep, not really hearing her mother much and so all that Mandy gave in response was a tired hum as she nuzzled against Bucky's arm a little more.

Well, shit. He may not be experienced with children but he knew enough to know that if he moved she might wake up. And frankly he didn't even know if she'd let him move. Glancing up towards the mother, he offered an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to scare you…she just kind of walked on over and climbed up. Seemed like you had your hands full so I hope it's okay I kept her busy for you?" He whispered to her, stopping her before she could rage at him–if that was what she'd been about to do, that is. She looked tired, and scared, understandably so. And most of all she looked ashamed that she hadn't even noticed her daughter leave.

"O-oh…thank you, I- I mean, I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble, I just- yeah…those boys…sorry they were so loud, they're in that phase…" she apologized sheepishly in hushed tones of her own, rubbing her palms against the fronts of her jeans as her gaze flicked between her daughter and the quiet stranger of a man. "I passed out and then I…I woke up and she was gone, I'm so sorry sir."

"Not a problem, honestly. She's pretty decent company, let me read in peace with her." Reading that nervousness on the woman’s features, he paused for a moment before shrugging his free shoulder up. "Don't sweat it, I shoulda sent her back…I was going to, believe me but uh. Well, at least now you get a break, right?" He tried to ease her nerves, but then glanced down towards Mandy. "I can carry her back to your seat if you'd like."

He was just so damned kind, she thought. A complete stranger and yet her daughter was clearly safe and well, asleep even and yes, now everything was quiet and she had some time to relax. It didn't stop her mom-dar from going off, but at the very least she'd be a fool to not appreciate his kindness. "No, no it's… it's okay, I don't want to wake her, she's a bit of a light sleeper…just uh, if she wakes up let me know. I'm Erin, by the way…in case that helps." This time it was her turn to offer a kind smile.

"Bucky. Nice to meet you…I'll keep it in mind, hopefully she lets you have a break though." He chuffed an amused breath out his nose.

Doing the same, she shook her head. "Yeah, if only. Thanks, again…I'll let you uh. Read in peace." She teased lightly, taking a hand back through her hair as she went back to her seat before the driver could reprimand her for standing up so long.

Smiling in amusement at that, he watched Erin go back to her sons, and in turn went back to his book after a moment. It was the small things, that made life easier. The small things were what really made things worth it. Sure, saving the world and saving people was big, and it was good. And it was worth it. But sometimes it was moments where he managed to do something more mundane, and helped someone else, that made all the other shit worth it. Because it meant he was still capable of being human.

———

By the time the sun was back up, Bucky rose with it, his eyes slowly opening to the light streaming through the window and he groaned quietly at the crick in his neck from how he'd slept. Running his flesh hand over his face groggily, as he glanced around he noticed that the warmth that had been leaned up against his arm the night day before was no longer there. He would have been concerned, thinking he'd now somehow lost some stranger's child, but he saw the pigtail-bearing girl peeking up over her seat at him a moment later, watching her smile appear once more as she gave him a little wave. Crisis averted. Not like there was anywhere she could really go on a bus, but still.

Despite still being a bit plagued by morning sleepiness, he smiled back and gave the girl a small wave of his own before watching her sink back into her seat properly. Probably at the urging of her mother. His sleepiness didn't last long, though, because soon those boys were back to making noise, but at least it wasn't as much of a headache as yesterday because it was merely them playing and babbling about random things. That was tolerable. And so he relaxed a bit more, rolling out his neck some before he picked up his book again and went on reading.

Somewhere along the way, the lone mother with her trio of children had reached their stop and were gathering their things to leave. It was Mandy who escaped her mother's sight once again to go see the kind man at the back of the bus who had read to her, bunny still in her arms but this time with a warm smile in place. "Hi Mr. Bucky! Mommy said I shouldn't bother you again… but I just wanted to say I liked your story and you're very nice." She didn't give him time to process all of that before she climbed up in the same seat as before, and kissed his cheek for a moment before hearing her mother call her name.

"You're welcome, Mandy. I think your mom needs you though, better get going." He encouraged even as he seemed surprised by her display of affectionate gratitude. The little girl wiggled back down from the seat then, but not without turning to wave at him, walking backwards to do so. "Bye Mr. Bucky!" She rushed the words out before running along to catch up to her mother. Watching her run along, he smiled at her little goodbye, and waved back at her as she went on her way. He wished that woman luck with her undoubtedly trouble-filled journey, honestly. Because he had his own coming up and somehow he felt like she was going to have it harder.

The rest of his ride went on rather uneventful, and when he arrived at his stop it was almost nighttime. But he was all the more closer to getting this job done, so saddling himself up with all his bags, he made his way into town and started heading for the address he'd gotten on the envelope.

Tags: @baw1066 @fluffydanger @vicmc624 @sjsmith56 @capswife @dispatchvampire @sofi1sstuff @sarbear94 @impeterporker @hhiggs @safiraish @kayden666 @saltedcoffeescotch @mcubuckyandsteve @thebuckybarnesvault @himikotoga

[honeyhonest]

minors do not interact, 18+ only

✧˖°. any fun

sick in the head lately. this fandom (me) is in dire need of some good fellow smut. wrote this lying in bed. hope the two other people who want this guy in a problematic way enjoy this

minors do not interact, 18+ only

summary: you're not having any fun warnings: afab reader, no gender mentioned, dubcon (manipulation/coercion), manhandling, no foreplay, unintentional creampie, sort of sexist understanding of how afab anatomy work but it's in character, sticky nasty desperate sex, maybe kinda boring lol

You were the worst of them.

The skeptics, the cynics, those suspicious classmates of yours were one thing.

They didn't trust him, that was it. Fellow couldn't use his magic on those pessimistic brats, but that was one thing.

They were wary, distrustful. He could break those walls down, just like he had broken countless others, countless times before.

You. Are the worst of them.

Not because you're suspicious; oh, no. You are the most naive of the bunch. Oblivious, trusting, easy pickings, low hanging fruit. You had practically walked into the park with a sign on your back that said "please take advantage of me!"

That isn't the problem.

You are simply not having fun.

You have held out the longest.

And Fellow isn't going to risk his paycheck over one little problem.

"Ah, ah, there you are," he smiles, cheerful as ever, draping an arm over your shoulder and leading you away from your group.

"Just the guest I was looking for! You wouldn't mind if I stole you away, would you?"

Your friends have already disappeared into the crowd behind you.

"Only for a moment, of course. You see, I couldn't help but notice this-"

He brings a gloved finger to your lips.

"-frown of yours. I haven't seen you smile all day."

You stare back, a look of surprise stuck to your face. "I just... don't really like amusement parks,"

"You don't really- oh, my," Fellow scoffs. "Now, don't tell me you're too old for fun?"

"I just-"

"Surely, you don't mean to say that you'd prefer to do something more adult?"

"I-I..." you stammer. It's adorable. Like you're afraid of offending him. "I... guess so, but this is fine. I'm just happy everyone else is having fun."

Fellow hums. He walks you along at a steady pace, moving you through the crowd, his arm tight around your shoulder.

"Tsk. No, no, that just won't do. Don't you deserve to have just as much fun as your friends?"

You try to speak, and he cuts you off with a finger firmly pressed to your lips again.

"Worry not, my star. Playful Land is full of surprises. I'm sure you and I could come up with something-" he taps the tip of your nose.

"-adult to do."

The crowds thin, but he keeps his steady pace. You pass a wooden sign that says "employees only", and you still don't ask a single question.

This is so easy, it almost isn't fun for him. Almost.

Behind a door, and another, and then you're in a dark room behind the very stage you refused to get on a few hours earlier. How annoying.

Moving on.

Your eyes sweep across the room, from the wooden cages stacked in the corner (for later), to the CCTV screens and intercom mic on the desk ahead. Everything is dark, for now.

"Curious?" he asks, coming behind you and putting two hands on both shoulders. "Nervous, maybe?"

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyes wide.

"The others are probably wondering where I went,"

"Oh, psh, I doubt it," Fellow scoffs, closing the space between you until his chest is touching your back.

"If they cared, they'd have asked if you were having any fun. Or- perhaps I'm wrong. Go on, tell me. Has a single one of your friends checked on you at all today?"

You say nothing. His smirk sharpens, and he leans closer, until his voice and breath are against your ear.

"That's right. They didn't. I did,"

He pushes your shoulders, forcing you to stumble forward until you're against the desk.

It's pathetic. It's getting him hard already.

"I noticed. I came to check on you. I asked," he says, taking a step forward with each inflection, until he's right behind you again.

"Don't think about them," he mutters, pushing against your back until you're bent over the desk.

"Think about me. Think about all the fun we're going to have. Just you and me."

"B-but-"

"Shush. You're going to get your fun," he mutters, one hand on the back of your head, keeping you down, the other hastily pulling away your clothes.

"Not that I blame you, of course. I'd be miserable if I had to spend all my time with those spoiled brats, too,"

He works himself out of his own pants slowly, and then wipes the precum off his hand on your thigh.

"Whatever. They could never give you what I could. You'll see,"

Your underwear is next, and he takes a moment to admire your glistening cunt, that smirk returning to his lips.

He traces his thumb between your folds, and you shudder. "You're awfully wet for someone who complains so much. Hold still, it'll hurt less,"

"Wait-"

His other hand moves from the back of your head to your cunt, spreading it open and pushing himself in, forcing you to take everything in one thrust. The noise that he makes is louder than yours.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes against your neck, his cocky facade cracking for just a second, revealing something raw beneath it.

Perhaps you're thinking about when the last time he did something like this was.

And the answer, which he is also thinking about, is a long, long time ago.

His fingers sink into your hips and he begins thrusting into you, hard, as if he'd forgotten about his precious paycheck altogether and is now more interested in the feeling of your slick, warm walls around him, hugging his cock.

The desk squeaks under the weight of each thrust, and over and over he has to stop and remind himself that this is about the job, not him, before he cums with a force beyond him.

This is much, much better than the hand he'd become so accustomed to.

...That which he slides around your waist and between your legs, placing (with some difficulty) your clit, which he locates based off of the noises you make.

Fellow, at least, has always been an adept multitasker.

He uses your own slick to lube the sensitive nub and presses his gloved fingers into it, pressing circles into your core and desperately trying not to cum at every little sound you make.

He pants into your ear, feeling you shake beneath him, tasting the sweat on your neck as each short, sharp thrust shakes your body and the desk.

"So good at listening. So good for me," he murmurs.

"I have half the mind to keep you all to myself. I bet you'd like that, hm, doll?"

So cute. You're so cute. So stupidly naive, he can hardly believe how tight you are, considering every boy at that school of yours must have taken advantage of you by now.

They'd be just as stupid not to.

Still, the thought of innocence, of that oblivious, wide-eyed look you always wore being completely genuine...

"Nghh," he moans into your ear, his leg hooked around yours now, his hands on either side of you on the desk. "Does that feel good, doll?"

"Yes," you whine. So obedient. He bites his lip, hard.

And he presses his fingers into your clit again, harder than before, and draws another cute squeak from your throat.

Sevens. He'd like to hear that noise again and again.

A few more strokes and you're gasping, tightening around him, cumming on him, finally, finally-

"I'll pull out," he mutters weakly. You both know it's not true.

Just another lie of his.

His fangs sink into your shoulder to muffle the sounds that come out of him when he slams his hips into yours, one last time, flooding you with cum.

It takes a minute or two for his hearing to come back, and a moment more for him to remember who he is and what he's doing here.

His cum dripping out of you and onto the floor, Fellow grabs your chin and yanks your face towards his, giving you a small dose of his magic.

Not that he really needs to anymore.

He's decided to keep you, after all.