#they like hanging out and hating their jobs

[producedbysohyun]

Shark Week

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid game would react to you being on your period (all separate)

Includes: Thanos, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju (non!squid game au)

Warnings: We are pretending for this one they aren’t all in major debt 🤗, a little suggestive on thanos’s part, If you’re scared of periods don’t read I guess?? 😭

a/n: this goes out to all my people who have to deal with periods! We are in this together 😔✊

Thanos

Ya you’re out of luck with this one 😔

Probably the worst person to have with you during your period

Definitely trys to rap his way into making you feel better but just fails miserably

“I know another way to make you feel better 😏”

“No”

“Ok 😞” *walks off with yet again another failed attempt*

If you asked him to go out and by you pads he would probably come back with those small cotton pads for your face

I mean he’s trying 😭

The type to ask “are you on your period” whenever you’re in a bad mood and is met with a slap every time

Doesn’t know what else to do so he probably just goes even more broke buying a bunch of food for you

(“With what money” we all yell in unison 🗣️)

Tolerates watching your “stupid” shows that you like just to make you happy but ends up being really interested

Se-mi

One of the best people to have with you

Deals with her period really well so she doesn’t really understand your pain but she gets the other things

Cuddles you all day!!

Literally turns into your slave

I feel like she would tease you about something and then accidentally make you cry because you’re overly sensitive

She feels so bad and you better believe she’s gonna watch what she says for the remainder of your period

You guys watch shows all day and just eat junk food

*stares at you dying in pain* “is it that bad?”

*starts crying*

“What- nooo baby I’m sorry” *cue her kissing all over your face*

I’m in love with her

Dae-ho

*sigh* I love him

Dude has four sisters so you are in luck

He definitely knows what to do

Gives you so much cuddles

He’s probably extra clingy to you during this time but if you tell him you want space he definitely respects it

If you’re having cramps he’ll give you tummy rubs 😔

I need him so bad wjdvjwwjwdjwkwj

Lowkey gets a bit freaked out when you start having mood swings

So he’s definitely careful with what he says not that he could ever hurt your feelings anyways

Is there to comfort you when you start crying over dumb stuff and NEVER makes fun of you for it

Gets you all your favorite snacks!!!

Ugh I need him

Myung-gi

Lowkey avoids you at first

Confused pt.2

He gets the hang of it pretty quickly tho

“Are you on your period” pt.2

Slapped pt.2

Poor boy didn’t even mean it in a bad way he was just genuinely curious 😞

Secretly looks up what to do

You guys binge watch shows together the whole day while cuddling

Try’s not giggle if you start crying over the show

And if you see him laughing it only makes you cry more

“No no Jagiya I’m sorrrryyy”

*Kisses your face till you stop crying*

Besides the laughing part he’s not a terrible person to have 👍

Jun-ho

Gives you your space

Kinda just lets you do your own thing but if you specifically need something he’ll do it for you

He’s up for giving you cuddles but you gotta ask him cause he doesn’t wanna do anything to upset you :(

Weirdly calm about the whole thing

Sends you texts asking how you’re feeling throughout the day as he can’t be there with you the whole time due to his job

Very very patient when you have mood swings

Buys you food pt.3

Overall not too bad

Hyun-ju

She definitely knows what to do

Very educated

Cuddles pt.4!!!!!!

Does everything she possible can to make you feel better cause she hates seeing you in pain

If somebody upsets you she will personally go and deal with them herself girl doesn’t play around

Constantly checks up on you asking if there’s anything she can do

Literally never makes you cry

She’s so gentle with you 🙁

10/10 person to have when your on your period

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed! This was a lot of fun to make!! Please send in requests because I don’t know what you guys want to read 😔

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Hell Hath No Fury

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.2k

Summary: Wanda gets big mad

A/N: Realized there's not enough cat fics for this au

Warnings: angst, animal abuse, violence, threats

It was only Tuesday, but it had already been such a long week. It all started on Sunday when you’d gone down into the basement for something only to return with an ashen expression. Wanda had immediately been concerned, but you hadn’t given her a chance to ask before you silently came to sit with her on the couch between her two dogs and cat who was curled up on her lap.  You’d sighed heavily before saying the last words Wanda had expected. 

“We have termites. A lot of termites.” 

Wanda had regretted her need to confirm what you said, and she’d nearly run back upstairs after seeing what you had. She immediately started to freak out as she tried to figure out who to call and what had to be done. You’d already told her your suspicions as you sat on the couch petting your dog with a blank look. 

Despite being the one who took care of the stray bug here and there that Fletcher was too lazy to deal with, you didn’t like bugs. They grossed you out, and despite being the vet, you would rather stay as far away from them as possible.

For this reason, you were already thinking about where you could go while the issue was dealt with. You’d call an exterminator and then you and Wanda would pack an overnight bag or two. 

Now, two days later, you, Wanda and the pets were at the compound while the house was being fumigated. Of course, the fact that you’d seen so many bugs in the basement meant that the issue was far more extensive than just spraying and replacing some chewed up flooring. 

You and Wanda had been torn between worry and disgust when you’d heard how infested the house was and how much of an undertaking getting rid of them would be. Forget the cost and the extensive repairs, you and Wanda would need to be elsewhere for close to a week. The compound wasn’t exactly an ideal location for you given where your job was, but you’d done it before so that wasn’t a huge deal. You mostly hated that Wanda had finally left her job, only to have to come back for a ridiculous reason.

You both had declined your friends’ offers to put you up because you were a family of five and that was a lot for anyone to take on. It seemed silly to burden your family when you had perfectly suitable rooms at the compound. 

Once all of the pets had gotten settled into the new, old, rooms, you and Wanda had taken Monday morning to decompress. You’d had to take a couple of phone calls to arrange everything that couldn’t happen over the weekend, but by dinner time it was official. The fumigation would occur on Tuesday and then hopefully by Thursday a crew could come in and start the repairs. 

You’d gone to work this morning feeling far more stressed than you were used to following a weekend, but you were going to have to make it work. Wanda was at least grateful that she could just sit around or wander the less populated areas while she let her brother do all of the work.

It was a little weird for her to be back here, but not have anything to do. She had no meetings, no phone calls to take, and she didn’t have to think about how the business was doing.

When she’d handed over the reins to her brother last week, she had told herself that she wouldn’t hover. She wouldn’t get involved and she would only help him out if he asked for assistance. Yet here she was fretting about how her presence was complicating things. She hadn’t been able to just sit upstairs and watch TV when she knew that her brother was working downstairs. She needed to get away and so she’d taken her dogs, and cat, out for a walk. It was spur of the moment decision to take Fletcher, but the tabby had yowled and darted out of the door to follow, and Wanda couldn’t bear to keep her locked up. She figured that Fletcher would just hang around her brothers.

When they all made it down the elevators and then down some stairs that led them toward a less populated area, Wanda opened the doors and let them all run out. She had Fletcher’s harness on which is figured was better than nothing, but when she’d attempted to put on her leash the tabby had dropped to the ground and played dead. You had only laughed when this first happened while Wanda watched on helplessly. Fletcher had decided she’d rather let Wanda drag her around before she would walk like a dog. For this reason, Wanda didn’t even bother today and she let her tabby out to roam free despite her better judgement. 

She mostly paid attention to the cat since Rogue and Boone were good about staying near her. She didn’t realize that she’d become lost in thought until about ten minutes later she arrived to a wooded area. She has her dogs on her heels, but she has no idea where Fletcher went. 

“Fuck.”

It was a warm, sunny day and Fletcher had decided to take advantage of the opportunity to bask in the rare sunlight. She’d left her mom behind and headed toward the grassy hill that had picnic tables and a fire pit. It was after lunch so there were very few people out, but Fletcher ignored them as she searched for the sunniest spot to sun in. 

She found it after a few minutes of searching, and she dropped down before curling up into a ball with a yawn. 

Although she hadn’t enjoyed the sudden move from home to here, at least she got to spend time outside here. Her mom never let her wander around outside alone, and since she refused to be walked like a dog, she just had to stare longingly out the windows toward the woods that held all sorts of adventures that she’d never be allowed to experience.

Maybe she’d have to rethink the leash.

She’s asleep before she manages to make any definitive decision. 

Dustin pushes his way out and onto the grounds of the compound with a scowl. He wasn’t impressed with how his meeting with the new boss had gone. He’d been promised a renegotiation of his contract with the Maximoffs now that the sister had resigned, but apparently her absence wasn’t enough to get the terms he’d been hoping for. 

He could tell that even though Wanda was gone, she was still pulling some of the strings. Pietro hadn’t changed much if anything about how he ran things and this, unfortunately, for him meant that he’d have to tolerate his same pay or look for employment elsewhere.

He’s considering doing just that as he practically stomps out into the grass and runs his hands through his hair with a frustrated growl. He tries not to think about the stray grey hairs that he’s had to dye black to feel less like the ten years his senior that this job has aged him. 

He had too many expenses, too many debts to keep working at the salary that he was being offered by the Maximoffs. Mr. Maximoff now. The only problem was he isn’t sure if he would be able to do much better anywhere else. Certainly not without starting over. The Maximoffs didn’t give out letters of recommendation, but there was a stigma associated with moving from one employer to another in their business. You couldn’t just leave one without having a damn good reason, and wanting more money was one of the worst reasons to have.

Dustin stops in his tracks as he feels his frustration boil over. His clenched fists are starting to ache in that familiar way that tells him that he really needs to punch someone. He wishes he had someone to take his anger out on. He drops down at one of the picnic tables with a sigh before he looks around the abandoned grounds with a frown.

It’s nearly 4 o’clock. Most people will be wrapping up soon and going home. He should go home too, but he doesn’t have good news to deliver, and that makes him want to stall as long as possible. He’s still seething at his failure and contemplating punching the seat beneath him when he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

What the hell? 

Wanda’s beginning to panic. She and her dogs are searching fruitlessly for her cat that ditched them. Wanda doesn’t spot her anywhere and after nearly twenty minutes of searching she has to stop to catch her breath. She didn’t realize that she was practically running around until she takes a moment to think. She stands with her hands on her head as she gazes up at the trees. The sun is high in the sky and even beneath the trees, running as she is, Wanda can feel its heat. She takes a deep breath before glancing down at Rogue who’s come to stand beside her. He rubs his head on her leg with a whine and she smiles despite her nerves and runs a hand through his fur. 

It's only a few seconds later as she realizes how damn hot it is for near winter, that she knows where her cat must be.

“Damn it.”

Dustin had gone to investigate the strange ball of fur sitting near the firepit. He hadn’t expected to discover that it was a cat, and he’s already sneering at the sight of it curled up fast asleep. 

He’d hated cats since the very first one he met at 5 years old had bitten him so badly he’d almost lost a finger. Since then, he’d never gotten along with any cat he’d met, and tried to avoid them at all costs. If he ran into strays while on the job, if it didn’t draw unwanted attention, he’d shoot at them for fun. 

He considers doing this now, but he’s a little confused by the fact that it’s wearing something around its body. A vest? No a harness.  Dustin’s frown deepens as he gets within arm’s reach of the cat, and he kneels down to contemplate his next move. He doesn’t have long to think about it before he notices the cat’s ears twitch. He acts before the thought is fully formed in his brain, but he reaches out and quickly snatches the cat by the harness and yanks it upwards as he stands.

It yowls loudly and Dustin cringes as it starts to flail and ends up scratching him in an attempt to break free. 

“Shit!” 

Dustin curses as the cat maneuvers its way out of the harness and on his arm. It bites him with a ferocious growl, and the brunette immediately releases his hold.

“Ouch! Shit let go you little fucker!” 

The cat’s not letting go even as Dustin swings it around in an attempt to shake it off. Without thinking, Dustin walks over to the firepit and grabs the cat by its back legs and practically rips it from his arm. The cat’s hissing and likely gearing up for another bite when Dustin slams it down hard onto the stones surrounding the pile of ash. It tries to break free, but he’s got a good hold of it now, and he raises it up again to hopefully beat its head in when he’s interrupted. 

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing to my cat?! Let her go!” 

Dustin looks up and is surprised to see that Wanda Maximoff is hurrying over to him. She’s flushed and out of breath, but he’s mostly focused on the fact that she looks pissed. She’s glaring at him and when she finally comes to a stop he just watches as she grabs her gun and points it at him. 

“I mean it. Drop her now!” 

Dustin considers arguing because he’s still in a foul mood after his last encounter with a Maximoff, but he doesn’t want to get shot over a fucking cat. He stands up before doing as she asks, and drops the cat on the ground from nearly 4 feet up. She lands on her feet with an angry or pained yowl, he can’t tell, before she hisses at him and retreats to her mom’s side. Wanda just watches in horror as her bloodied cat limps over to her, and she sees red as she glances back at the brunette who just throws Fletcher’s harness down at his feet.

“Wanda Maximoff in the flesh. You know, I knew you liked pussy, but I didn’t think even you would become a sad cat mom.” 

Wanda flinches and she has to resist the urge to shoot this idiot for the way he laughs at her. For the fact that he hurt her fur baby. She’s practically shaking she’s so angry, but of course Dustin takes this the wrong way, and only sneers at her in disgust. He wipes his hands off on his already ruined suit, and hisses as he tries to staunch the bleeding from his wrist. 

“How pathetic.” 

This snaps Wanda out of her thoughts of murder, and she merely smiles as she kneels down to scoop Fletcher up into her free arm as carefully as possible. She takes a moment to look over her cat and she hates that the cuts on her face are likely from being thrown to the ground instead of biting the asshole in front of her. She kisses her tabby’s head before she shoots the brunette a questioning look.

“I’m not surprised that an insecure piece of shit such as yourself would hate cats, Mr. Howell, but what is your opinion on dogs?” 

It’s at that moment that Dustin realizes something is moving in his periphery. He stiffens and actually takes a step back when he sees two large growling dogs that are rapidly closing the distance between them. 

Instead of attacking him immediately though, they go to Wanda’s side and sit down obediently as if waiting for orders. This terrifying realization is accompanied by an increase in his heart rate as he looks back up to Wanda only to face down the barrel of her gun. 

“You have two options, Mr. Howell. I either shoot you dead right here, or I show you mercy and give you a head start before I let my dogs hunt you for sport. You have three seconds to decide.”

What is perhaps the only sign of intelligence he’s displayed today, Dustin doesn’t even respond before he turns tail and runs as fast as he can toward the compound. Wanda just smiles before she looks down to her dogs who are already locked in on their target.

“Don’t kill him boys. Maybe just a bite or two. Now go fetch.” 

The word ‘go’ barely leaves her mouth before her dogs take off for the fleeing brunette. Wanda knows that they’ll catch him before he escapes, and she can only hope that he’ll regret his actions when this happens. That said, she’s not feeling very forgiving as she moves to sit down at the nearest table. She sighs as she holsters her gun and grabs her phone with a frown. She ignores the screams behind her as she dials your number while watching her cat lick her wounds where she still sits curled up in her arms. 

“Wanda! What’s up?”

She takes a moment to try and calm herself down before she opens her mouth to respond. She doesn’t make it thought because you’ve obviously picked up on the unmistakable background noise. 

“Wait, who’s screaming? What’s happening, are you okay?” 

Wanda shakes her head as she turns to check on her dogs with tears burning her eyes. She sighs before she manages to put you at ease, at least marginally before she asks you to come home. 

“I’m okay, Y/n, but someone hurt Fletcher. I’m not sure…”

She trails off because she doesn’t really know the extent of the damage. All she’d seen was her cat being held by her back legs and thrown against the ground. She’s worried about head injuries and so many other things she doesn’t know where to begin, but she just wants you with her. She wants you to look Fletcher over and convince her that everything will be alright. 

“Who the hell--? You know what that doesn’t matter right now. I’ll leave now and we’ll take a look at her, okay? Does she seem alright? Stable I mean.”

Wanda can’t help but smile as she looks to her cat who’s settled a bit and is rubbing her head against Wanda’s arm. She breathes a sigh of relief and nods before she realizes you can’t see her. 

“I think so? She’s purring and trying to make biscuits. She’s bleeding though and I’m worried.”

She hears you moving around, probably packing up and she is eternally grateful for what you say next. 

“Of course you’re worried, but we’ll take care of her okay? I’m leaving and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll meet you in the clinic.” 

The ‘clinic’ is the room you commandeered to check on your dog when Rogue first came into your lives. You’d told her that you didn’t need the area anymore, but something had stopped her from breaking down your makeshift vet clinic. As she stands up and heads into the building to get Fletcher looked at, she’s eternally grateful for her rare indecision. 

“Thank you, detka.”

You’re already in your car when Wanda says this, and you smile before pulling out of the parking lot as quickly as possible. 

“Of course, Wands. I’ll see you in 20 minutes.” 

Wanda frowns slightly when you say this because your work is nearly 40 minutes away. As worried as she is about her fur baby, she doesn’t want to you endanger yourself to get here sooner. 

“Make it 30, Y/n. We’ll be fine. I’ll just go sit with her downstairs and let someone know if we need anything. Don’t get a ticket or crash in your hurry home, okay?” 

You want to argue because you’d heard how frantic Wanda was and you wanted to be there for her, but she was right. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if you ended up in the hospital. 

You simply nod before slowing down slightly as you speed down the interstate. 

“Whatever you say, Wanda. Will you call me back once you get the dogs sorted?” 

Wanda can’t stop herself from smiling at the fact that you know exactly what she’d done. She glances over her shoulder at the duo who are still terrorizing the brunette, but no longer biting him. They’re just keeping him where he is until she tells them otherwise. She sighs before deciding what she’s going to do next before hanging up. 

“Yes, detka. I’ll call you in a few minutes.” 

You don’t bother asking what she has planned as you glance at the speedometer again. 

“Okay, love you.” 

“Love you too, Y/n.” 

Wanda stands up and grabs her gun before she hefts her cat up higher so she’s close enough to head boop her chin. She smiles and kisses the tabby’s nose before making her final decision. 

She puts her phone away and whistles to catch her dogs’ attention as she gets closer to the trio. 

“Good job boys. Now come here, please. I’ll take it from here.” 

Masterlist

[amyispxnk]

I'd run away and hide with you

Summary - Ellie joins you and Joel on your trek to Jackson. Along the way, your mind gets the better of you, and when you reach Jackson it all comes crashing down.

A/N: i don't have any excuses for why this took so long and im so so sorry guys 😭 2024 was hectic and ive only recently been able to catch up on stuff pls forgive mee

Pairing: platonic/father figure!Joel Miller x f!reader (could probably be read as GN tho?)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, violence, guns, language, PTSD, abuse mentions, panic attack/mental breakdown

Previous Chapter || Series Masterlist

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

You’re getting bad again; that much is visible to him now. But he doesn’t even know what’s wrong this time.

You never open up to him anymore. At the start, you’d tell him everything that was going on in that little head of yours. You’d let him hold you while you cried. You’d always talk to him.

Now you don’t talk and you practically smack yourself in the face whenever you cry, willing the tears away as you bite down on your lip.

It’s been a few months since you left Boston to visit the guys at Lincoln. It was a good trip. After that hiccup at the start, you had pretty much forgotten about your dad; he couldn’t even get to you in your sleep. You spent a lot of time hanging out with Frank whilst Bill and Joel ‘talked business’, and it was pretty fun seeing the little home they had built for themselves in the town - Frank even let you pocket some strawberries, and it was your first time trying them. Safe to say they were fucking amazing, and you told Joel all about it that night. He'd pretend to be annoyed at your incessant rambling but he liked to see you happy, distracted, somewhat.

When you came back, Marlene was bugging Joel about some new smuggling job in exchange for the car battery he’d been searching for and before you knew it, you were back on the road again to bring this kid - Ellie - to the fireflies.

She was a bright, bubbly kid. Constantly talking and telling you and Joel jokes from that damn pun book of hers.

Joel didn’t warm up to her nearly as quickly as you did, and you obviously knew why. You’d been staying with him for almost half a year now, and had gone through a lot of shit with him, so he’d told you about his past. About Sarah.

So you had a hunch that that was why he didn’t open up to Ellie easily. That was why he’d always just grunt at her whenever she asked a question, why he’d practically toss her food at her when she had to eat, why he would barely even acknowledge her.

You could always tell he never meant it though. He didn’t really hate her. He cared about her - that’s just how he was - and it scared him. He was a protector, a fighter, and, most importantly, a father. He basically took you under his wing and gave you all the paternal love you ached for before, and now he had Ellie to look out for too.

But as time went on, you started noticing things. He started laughing at her jokes, or engaging in conversations with her, even telling her about before. You then realised how much it actually pissed you off.

Seeing them getting along made you incredibly jealous. Joel was your protector, your carer, your da..

You shake your head. It still felt weird when you accidentally found yourself thinking of him like that, giving him that name in your head.

It had been a few months since you all left Boston, for good you hoped, you hated that place and all the unfortunate memories you left there, but now you were in the cold and unforgiving state of Wyoming.

Right now you were all huddled around a fire in a little alcove. Joel had some whiskey which he sipped on.. As he talked to Ellie. Fucking Ellie, who was joking around with him, asking him stupid questions about some sheep farm on the moon.

You weren’t paying attention, you didn’t care. You instead chose to stew in your own thoughts which were drifting back to before any of this. You stared into the fire as you remembered the times you were the one making Joel smile, the one he’d hold and comfort, the one he’d talk with at the end of a long day.

He didn’t do all of that with Ellie, but he didn’t do any of it with you anymore, either.

Suddenly, your thoughts go even further back, remembering your father. Remembering the constant screaming which definitely damaged your eardrums by the time you’d left, the incessant beatings you received - at least that taught you first-aid, right? - and the many, many nights spent crying yourself to sleep. You didn’t get to cry in front of your father, knowing he’d only hit you harder for being weak and useless, so you just waited until you were curled up on the little mattress on the floor, your dad already asleep from the alcohol.

You only come back to the present moment when you taste the metal of blood in your mouth. You didn’t remember biting down on your lip but apparently you had been so hard that it made you wince slightly when you pressed your fingers to it.

Joel didn’t notice. He was still talking with Ellie, his eyes soft as he looked at her over the flames.

Jealousy makes tears sting at your eyes. You’d thought finally, finally, you found someone who would actually care about you.

Now you watch bitterly as Ellie makes him laugh more than you’d done in a while, wondering what you did wrong.

-

You were clutching your handgun tight, not feeling safe out in the open like this despite not having encountered any dangers for a good week now. It felt like things were too safe, and you didn’t like it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ellie blowing air through her lips, and it actually kind of annoyed you, because what was she even doing?

Joel asked that question for you.

“What are you doing..?” He sighs heavily, glancing at her, to which she just smirks.

“I’m learning to whistle.” She replies simply.

“You don’t know how to whistle?”

“Does it look like I know how to whistle?” She huffs.

They go back and forth for a little longer, with Joel ending up defeated as Ellie continues her air-blowing, and you find your heart splintering at the sight of them bickering only like father and daughter would. It might not seem like much, but you’ve definitely noticed how Joel’s gotten closer with Ellie over the past few months. It’s upsetting, seeing his natural paternal instincts coming out with her too now.

The three of you make your way past a big dam and arrive at a river, at which point Ellie unhelpfully chirps up.

“Hey, guys, what if this is the river of death?” She jokes, not realising how poor her timing was, for you hear the heavy thuds of horse hooves almost as soon as she finishes her sentence.

“Hands up. Don’t make any sudden movements, or we shoot.” A gruff voice barks out. You know better than to go against what they’ve said, so you turn slowly with your arms raised, and wait for Joel to do any negotiating.

“We ain't lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.” Joel says, keeping his voice strong and unwavering.

“Drop the gun.” The man spits, and Joel slowly does as he says, his eyes wide with panic and betraying the collected and brave persona he attempts to put on when he realises that this might be it.

Ellie looks equally terrified, and you can’t blame her, especially when the man addresses her directly, telling her to step back and away from you.

“How ‘bout we just talk this through-” Joel starts.

“How about you shut the fuck up?” The man’s gun is now raised, and Joel knows better than to argue now, nodding.

The man asks about if any of you are infected, and you feel the dread setting into your bones. Joel tries to diffuse the situation and ease the man’s (unfortunately correct) suspicions, but it’s no use, as he whistles for the sniffer dog.

He offers you a bullet instead, the easy way out, and you all remain silent, panicking further as the dog sniffs you, then Joel, then makes its way to Ellie.

You don’t know where to look, you can see Joel starting to hyperventilate, you can see Ellie’s eyes shining with a terror you’ve never seen her showing before, and you just decide to not look anywhere. You squeeze your eyes shut before-

She’s giggling. Your brows furrow, eyes opening to see Ellie playing with the dog, her face getting licked, and she looks over at the two of you, giving you a sort of ‘how the fuck am I alive’ look, before petting the dog and smiling.

“You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What’s your business here?” The man shouts, and Joel tells him that he’s looking for his brother, trying to keep things brief.

A lady rides forward, asking Joel for his name. He gives it, and she’s silent, looking around at the three of you and trying to piece things together, before telling you to come with her.

-

Maybe something’s wrong with me, you think, picking at your nails absentmindedly as you trail behind the group - Maria, Joel, Ellie, and Tommy on their little tour of Jackson.

No, something’s definitely wrong with me. Because why else would you be so jealous of them? Of Joel finally finding his brother - another person to drive him away from you - and finally growing closer to Ellie.

Not to mention the way you just fucking clam up any time he asks about it.

Not to mention the way you just let it all build up, suffering in silence, waiting and waiting for the inevitable moment where you break.

You all end up in the dining hall afterwards and, while you’re pissed about everything else, you can’t deny some good food. You almost moan at the taste of proper, seasoned meat after all these months, wolfing it down in similar speed to Ellie and Joel.

“There’s more if you need it.” Maria adds after a few moments of watching you all, no judgement in her tone despite your rough actions.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Joel says, looking up briefly before continuing to eat. “Been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie chimes in, making you clench your jaw. God, even her voice pisses you off. Nobody asked her to talk. “This is amazing.” She mumbles, food in her mouth.

Joel glances at her for a second.

“Sorry.” He tells Tommy and Maria. “Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

She doesn’t reply, looking up instead to see a girl watching her behind a pillar.

“What!” She barks, making the girl run away and making you scoff. She glances at you, frowning, before continuing to eat.

You knew she didn’t hate you - you were a good pretender most of the time. Laughing at her jokes, smiling tightly during conversations.. But lately you’d slipped a bit, and she was starting to notice.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel mutters.

“What about her manners?” Ellie spits, always so defensive.

“She was just curious.” Maria soothes, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right,” she says, nodding her head slowly, “well maybe I’ll teach them.”

It takes everything in you to not scream. She was annoying you so much. And she was getting all the attention because of her boisterous behaviour. You were sitting there, quietly, calmly, and no one batted an eye at you.

“And I want my gun back.” Ellie argues.

“They also aren’t armed.”

Tommy jumps in, sensing the tension growing even more.

“You know what, uh, I think y’all got off on the wrong foot.” He starts, but the two keep bickering.

Eventually, Tommy reveals that Maria is his wife, and after an eager congrats! from Ellie, and the most forced one possible from Joel, the meal ends.

-

Tommy quickly shows the three of you around the rest of Jackson - Maria chose to stay behind - before leaving you and Ellie in your temporary house, going to have a chat with Joel.

“Soooo.. That was awkward, huh?” She chuckles, trying to joke with you like you used to at the start of all this.

You nod, anger still bubbling up inside of you. You didn’t want to be angry at her, or Joel, even, and you knew if you talked with her for too long you’d just end up yelling at her, so you tried your hardest to keep calm.

She chews on her lip, nodding slowly before starting to ramble about how crazy this town is and how Joel is totally pissed at Tommy.

You keep nodding along, wondering how on Earth she manages to keep going on and on for way too long.

Eventually, she bids you goodbye, going to explore the town.

You wouldn’t want to hang out with yourself either, you think as she closes the door.

-

Joel came back home in the evening, pissed off. You tried saying hi to him, having decided you were done being annoyed at him, but he completely brushed you off before storming upstairs.

Maybe you weren’t making it up. Maybe he did just.. Start hating you.

Ellie’s been in her claimed room for an hour, and the house is quiet until about 10pm. You’re still on the couch, curled up, lost in your thoughts. About Joel, about Ellie, wondering about yourself, too. You were thinking about how nice this town is, how you didn’t want to leave tomorrow at all, but figured you’d definitely have to. You’d have to return to the wasteland outside these walls, and you’d probably never make it back to Jackson.

You’d had too many close calls already. God, or whatever was out there, had probably spared you enough.

Your thoughts spiralled and spiralled until it happened.

Everything came out.

It started with tears, silent as they streamed down your face, before the anger released itself, making you dig your nails into your skin in some final attempt at self-control, before you were storming upstairs.

You throw the door open to Joel’s room, and he blinks at you, having been in bed, probably trying to sleep while you soaked in your misery downstairs.

He’s such a fucking asshole, is all you can think.

“I’m not coming with you tomorrow.” You mutter, surprised you aren’t yelling already.

His brows furrow and he stands up, trying to approach you.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” He says, voice stern and rough.

“You clearly don’t want me around anyway! I’d just be making your life even harder if I came with you. I’ll.. I’ll just go my own way.” You huff, voice quivering towards the end when you realised you’d have to trek this world alone now.

He repeats his previous question and you bury your face in your hands, nails tightening against your fists as you try not to start screaming at him.

“When was the last time we had a proper conversation? Or you asked me how I was doing? Or you hugged me, or anything?! You couldn’t even be bothered to say hi to me earlier, and last night you and Ellie were being buddy-buddy by the fire while I was literally on the verge of tears. You clearly don’t care about me anymore. It’s just her.” You’re shouting now, rage consuming you as you get closer to him, shoving him backwards.

He grabs your arms roughly and you visibly flinch, eyes widening under your furrowed brows as you peer up at him. His face is blurry underneath your tears, and your mind short-circuits.

Your dad is back? Your mind tells you yes. Yes, and you’ve pissed him off now, he’s grabbing you because he’s about to throw you on the floor. You’re always doing something wrong - you should’ve known better than to argue. Only insolent, disgraceful children open their mouths in retaliation. You should respect your father. Now you have to apologise and pray he accepts it.

Immediately you’re cowering. He can’t even get a word out before you start apologising, body trembling as he loosens his grip on you.

“Please, sir, I- I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- to yell. I’m sorry, I’ll leave, just please d-don’t- please don’t h-urt me-” you choke out, voice raw.

His expression softens, brows knitted in concern now rather than frustration.

“Baby, come here-” he tries to say, but you’re shaking your head, inching further backward until you press against the wall, whimpering when you realise you’re trapped.

Now he’s going to hurt you. Your apologies mean nothing when he gets this mad.

Joel had only grabbed you. It was nothing like the abuse you used to face and yet it was still enough to make you completely crumble.

You sink to the floor, sobbing, still apologising. Ellie’s awake by now, her eyes wide as she listens to what she can make out. What the fuck did he do to you? She’s about to get up, to go and protect you. She doesn’t care if you’d been giving her the cold shoulder for the past few weeks, she doesn’t care if Joel seemed to be giving her the opposite at last. If you’re in trouble and it’s because of him she didn’t fucking care about anything else.

But then she pauses, just outside the door, hearing him cooing at you.

“Calm down honey. It’s okay, it’s me, Joel. Look at me, please.” He murmurs, crouched down in front of you but still giving you some space.

You had your arms raised in front of your face, legs tucked inward, trying to protect yourself from any potential blows, mind still loud and thoughts jumbled, but his voice suddenly helped to clear some of the fog.

You peered at him through the space between your arms and blinked the tears away as best you could.

“..Joel?” You croak after a moment, and he nods, a small smile blossoming on his lips.

“‘S me, sweet girl. Come here.” He opens his arms for you, and you shift closer, still timid and not making that final step.

He sighs softly, not disappointed or annoyed, just sad that your trauma managed to put you in this state.

“It’s just me, okay? It’s Joel, not.. not him. Look at my face, baby.” He whispers, and you do. Your dad wouldn’t call you baby or speak softly with you. Surely this man in front of you wasn’t him.

When you finally recognise him, you feel the tears blooming again, a small whimper escaping your throat before you’re crawling into his lap, clutching him tight. Still apologising, as always.

“Shh, it’s okay. What’s goin’ on, hm?” He says, voice gentle as ever as he holds you. He doesn’t squeeze you tight, or move in any way, he just lets you cling to him. He doesn’t want to suffocate you, knowing you probably already feel like you're drowning, barely tethered to him for support.

“Y-you don’t like me anymore.” You hiccup, and he shakes his head.

“No, sweetheart. Of course I like you. You’re my.. You’re my girl, yeah? Could never hate you.” He murmurs, brows furrowing. Why did you even think that?

“B-but you get on with Ellie way better now, and- and you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

He sighs softly. Ellie was.. A chatty kid. If she didn’t start all those conversations with him, he doubts he would’ve engaged with her nearly half as much as he did. He had grown to enjoy her ramblings, of course, but he was too stressed, anxious all the time on the road, to ever actually start the chats with her or you. He realises now how that would’ve looked to you, understands the emotional breakdown you’d just had, understands why you’d been so quiet recently.

You thought he didn’t want you anymore.

He gently pulls your head back, tilting it up so you could meet his eyes. His thumb catches a tear before it can fall and he starts explaining.

“Babygirl, I wasn’t not talkin’ to ya as much cuz I didn’t like ya. I was just stressed.. Too focused on gettin’ us across the country in one piece to worry about conversations. Ellie’s.. a bit of a chatterbox so of course I had to be respondin’ with her, but..” he trails off, guilt consuming him more and more as he tries to reason with himself. Yes he was nervous but that’s no excuse for the state his negligence has landed you in.

“Fuck, there ain’t no excuse, really. I just.. Please, please believe me right now. I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t hate you and I never ever could, okay?” He pleads, eyes searching yours for any sort of understanding or forgiveness.

He definitely doesn’t see hatred there like he’d seen when you first stormed up here, no, he just sees confusion, worry.

“You really don’t hate me? Even- even after I gave you so much attitude and I was shouting at you? Surely I deserve.. You shouldn’t be being nice to me…” You whisper, brows furrowing, confused at the fact someone was apologising to you. Normally you were the one apologising. He’d been the only person to ever show you compassion and understanding, and you thought, surely you’ve fucked it all up now.

He sighs again, shaking his head. “I could never ever hate you, honey. Never. No matter what you do or say to me, I can promise you hatred would never even cross my mind.”

You whimper again, nodding. “Okay.” Is all you can get past your lips, your body shaking with sobs again as he finally allows himself to hug you properly, rocking you back and forth and stroking your hair.

He isn’t surprised when you fall asleep like this, curled up in his arms. You’ve exhausted yourself in every way tonight, and you deserve a good, long rest.

He grunts softly as he stands up, still keeping you clutched in his arms as he makes his way to the bed and sets you down. He’ll take the couch, he figures. His back is fucked already.

But then you stir a little, blinking up at him as he watches you.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“Can.. can you please stay tonight? I just.. I’m…” You can’t get the words out, but he understands. He knows what you need.

He gets in beside you, kissing your forehead after you cuddle up to him and drift off slowly, blanketed by his comforting presence, your mind a little less stormy with his reassurances now there instead.

Sleep evades him for much longer, though, distant memories of Sarah swirling within his mind. He wonders what she’d think of him, of you, of the way he’s taken you in like this. Would she be proud? Would she be angry? Would she feel like he’s replaced her?

He shakes his head, knowing that those thoughts would just cause him to distance himself from you again.

He finally manages to fall asleep at 2am, dreaming of Christmas trees and a little girl with curly hair.

Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Tags - @tbeep @rosierogie @jjlevin @axshadows @pedropascalsbbg @pedroshotwifey @pedrosfanny @s0meoone

[rafesbangs]

soft!kook!reader and rafe do it on the beach 🤭

oh em gee this is perfect ty nonnie !

req! 𝜗𝜚 fwb!rafe asks soft!kook!reader out on the beach

c!w; mdni !! dom!rafe, soft!kook!reader, public (?) sex, fingering, hand job, oral (f. + m. receiving), 'unprotected' sex, p in v, creampie, bitta fluff too for once!

notes; two soft!kook!reader fic drops wowow. i really need to finish the 5 other fics in my drafts... i hate writers block ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

the truck rattled down the sandy path, headlights cutting through the thickening dusk. rafe sat behind the wheel, one hand loosely draped over it, the other tapping rhythmically against your thigh. you leaned back in the passenger seat, the ocean breeze tangling your hair as you glanced over at him. his jaw was set, his eyes fixed ahead, like he was on a mission.

“you’re being cryptic,” you teased, a half-smile tugging at your lips. “should i be worried?”

he shot you a quick glance, his mouth twitching into something almost resembling a smirk. “you’ll see,” he said, voice low, calm.

the beach came into view, the shoreline glowing faintly under the moonlight. you left your shoes and hopped out as soon as the car stopped, your feet sinking into the cool sand. but then you noticed it, a small glow farther down the shore, fairy lights twinkling softly. your brows knitted in confusion, but rafe was already pulling you by the hand, leading you toward it.

when you got closer, you stopped dead in your tracks. a kiddie pool sat nestled in the sand, lined with blankets and pillows, the string lights hanging around like something out of a dream. you blinked, taking it all in.

“rafe,” you started, your voice trailing off.

he rubbed the back of his neck, a rare moment of unease flickering across his face. “look, i’m not good at this,” he admitted, his words tumbling out quickly. “but i couldn’t... not anymore. i don’t want anyone else. i want you. just you. so... be mine?”

the air seemed to hang still between you, your heart hammering in your chest.

“yeah,” you said finally, a soft laugh escaping as you shook your head. “yeah, of course.”

and just like that, he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours, both of you sinking into the mountain of blankets. his hands slid up the sides of your body, you climbed into his lap, straddling him as your arms wrapped around his neck.

"you're so pretty" he breathed in between kisses as they grew more desperate, your bodies hotter and breathing more ragged. a hand slipped underneath your top, creeping up to one of your tits and he affectionately squeezed it. you could feel the mischievous grin on his lips through the kiss.

you groaned when he rolled your nipple between his fingers, "i want you rafe." he tore his lips away from yours and searched your eyes for a moment. "on the beach? you sure?" he rasped, his breathing still heavy and increasing at the thought of you screaming his name for the whole ocean to hear.

you grinned and began lining his neck with kisses, slowly rutting against him while one hand slid up his shirt, feeling his toned body. he groaned and planted his hands on your waist, grinding you against him harder.

"i'll never get tired of your dick rafe..." you whispered into the shell of his ear, if he wasn't so hard already he definitely would be now. his eyes rolled back as his mind split open from pleasure.

you unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants so only his boxers were between you and his poor throbbing cock. you rolled your palm over his tip through the fabric, he sucked air in through his teeth and rolled his head back.

you chewed your bottom lip as you slowly pulled his cock out of his pants, his tip angry and leaking pre-cum, already swollen and begging. you grinned at him as he stared intensely at you, nothing but adoration in his eyes. your hand moved carefully up and down his shaft as another played with his tip while he squirmed under your touch, you'd never been so slow and painful about it before.

looking him in the eyes you moved backwards and lowered your lips down, pressing a sloppy kiss to his tip while still looking up at him through your lashes. he nearly came right then and there, the careful attention you were giving your new boyfriend drove him insane, he was whimpering under your touch as you continued to jerk him off while playing close attention to his tip with your mouth.

you only stopped when he grabbed your chin, stopping you from licking up his cock, "c'mere, your turn." he demanded, and you obliged with a smile. he switched positions with you, sitting you up against the edge of the kiddie pool as he slipped your shorts and panties down with a smirk.

his big hands ran over your thighs before he laced two fingers into your folds, playing around with your wetness and teasing your clit. you twitched at the feeling of his long fingers, begging him to slid them in with the way you were looking at him.

"so so wet baby... this all from getting me off?" he cooed, his fingers now teasing around your hole as his other hand held your leg to the side.

your gaze was pleading, "stop teasing me rafe... 'ts not fair." he only chuckled lightly before kissing your inner thigh and sliding two fingers into your weeping cunt slowly.

you whined when he began sliding his tongue between your folds, lapping at your clit as his fingers continued to slid in and out of you. rafe moaned into your pussy, the vibrations causing you to thread your fingers through his hair, cinching your eyebrows together from the pleasure.

you chewed your lip, trying not to moan too loud so out in the open, still letting small noises slip as rafe ate you like a man starved. "rafe..." you choked, your hand grabbing his wrist.

he lifted his head, the lower half of his face coated in your slick as he smiles up at you, still teasing your folds with his fingers, "yes baby?"

"please... i wanna cum on your cock" you beg, chest rising and falling as you breath heavily. rafe grinned, his smile wide as he crawled over you, sucking your juices off his fingers before pressing his lips to yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

"fuck you're so gorgeous" he rasped, tearing away from your lips before grinning down at you as he jerked himself off a little before lowering down to your sopping pussy.

rafe tapped the tip against your folds before then swiping through them, teasing you as you lay there in anticipation before sinking into your pussy with a low groan. you whine when he slowly pushes his cock to the hilt, your cunt tightening around him deliciously.

your hand grips his arm, "'ts so... nhghh, you're so big-" you whimper. no matter how many times the two of you have had sex before, you knew you would never get used to the sheer size of rafe.

he thrusts his hips back then forward again, you feel every inch as your pussy flutters around his cock. "don' worry baby, you can take it" he replies, throwing one of your legs onto his shoulder.

rafe groans as his speed increases, your muscles clenching around him, coaxing him into filling you up. his hand connects with your tit, kneading the fat and pinching your nipple, making you moan loudly. rafe grinned, thankful he chose a secluded beach and the fact that the sun had just set behind them.

he bit his lower lip at the plap-plap-plap coming from his pelvis hitting the wetness that had gathered between you. a thick ring around rafe's cock already along with a stringy mess every time your bodies met.

rafe's eyes raked your body, taking in every outline he could in the dim light provided by the fairy lights. he leans and kisses you as his hands explore your body, he just can't get enough of you.

his hips stutter as his thrusts slow down a little, the tightness of your pussy becoming too much for him to hold off anymore. "ah fuck, g'na cum baby.." rafe groans, his grip on your hips bruising.

"want you to fill me up rafey, cum inside me" you demand, eyes locked on his until they meet yours, wide and wild. as soon as the words left your lips rafe thought he was in heaven, he'd finished on you plenty of times but only inside of you with a condom. it was always a rule of yours that only a boyfriend would have the privilege.

he strained as his thrusts sped up, your cunt tightening unbearably around him, milking every last drop as his cum finally spurts inside of you. your hips twitch as your orgasm takes over and rafe continues fucking his release into you for a few more thrusts before collapsing beside you.

he pulls your face in, kissing you deeply, "fuck you're amazing. i love you baby." he sighs.

[aniesvision]

𐂃 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚- 𝑴.𝑺

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒈𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇! 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒗, 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒆𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐 ♡︎ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆!!

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎

3450 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔

Selling weed to drunk teenagers and young adults at parties wasn't my first option, but high school ended a few years ago, I live alone since my parents kicked me out of their house and college is expensive as fuck. I tried to get a normal job, but my classes were taking a lot of time and it wasn't working out. Maybe it could, but I felt like I was going to explode any second, and mental health is also expensive so I couldn't afford a therapist if I needed one.

I used to love parties, drinking and dancing with my friends, just running away from all the responsibilities. Now I hate them. I have to talk to people I don't like, people I don't know, weird guys that give me what I need to sell and then I get back barely enough to pay my bills. They're not exactly dangerous, but I don't have the energy to fight back and ask for more.

My luck was to become friends with a girl in college who knew influencers and got us in a few parties. Honestly it wasn't a surprise that almost all of them used something, I mean, they have to find a way of going through life and sometimes getting high is a great escape from reality. I do it myself and I don't even get hundreds of comments about everything I do online.

Since they were all rich or close to being rich I always charged more than normal. They could pay and I needed that money, so it's only fair. Funny thing though it's not all influencers are assholes and I ended up getting involuntarily closer to one of them.

Matthew Sturniolo. Didn't seem like the kind to use stuff, and didn't look like he had done it before when I handed him a joint. I had to teach him how to smoke, something I've never done before to anyone, and when I realized his shaky hands and bouncy legs I immediately caught the reason he even asked for it.

We talked a lot the day we met, even told him my number in case he wanted more weed, but deep down I was curious and hoped he would text me so I could see him again.

When days later he called me wanting more I was surprised. First because he called, not texted like everyone does, second because for some reason I could feel through the tone in his voice that he felt the same he did at that party. He was beyond anxious and I felt bad, he seemed decently nice to be in the environment he was in that day, but I guess he needed to be present.

I found out he's a triplet, and his brothers had no idea that he wasn't sober anymore like the other two. I wonder if they're also as nice and calm as he is, at least he talks about them with love so I think they're all really close.

I have no idea why, in fact, it's a really bad thing for him to trust me enough to get in my car and smoke with me without even knowing me, but I was glad he did. It was the first time I was hanging out with a customer, and I wasn't mad at all. I did the talking for a few minutes, watching as he visibly calmed down, and eventually started talking back.

When he left I made sure to warn him about the smell so he could take a shower before his brothers noticed, and when I drove back to my place I couldn't stop wondering if he'd call me again.

But this time he texted. And he was alone, so he asked if I wanted to smoke with him inside his house. It was a bad idea, clearly a huge red sign, and I still said yes. We know a little bit about each other by now, and he had the opportunity to do anything when he got into my car, yet he seemed more like a scaredy cat than anything else, for him I probably looked like the dangerous one.

Matt is cute, all shy, but kind. More of an introvert, he gets anxious a lot, but have things to help him, and people, weed shouldn't be on the list. It was the third time we saw each other, the third time smoking together, third joint I had sold him, and I was already starting to regret selling him.

-Why did you want to smoke? -I ask, holding my joint in between my fingers and looking at him.

His smile falters as he processes the question, taking a deep breath before deciding to open up.

-I think my anxiety was getting worse and I couldn't find anything to help me anymore. I didn't want to bother my brothers, they have their own things going on as well.

I nod, feeling more empathy for him than I probably should. Talking to him felt like talking to a normal boy, not like talking to those internet famous people who somehow became "famous". He was genuine, he was showing true feelings and being relatable, I just couldn't help feeling like he was my friend and I had to help him, or try to.

-What did you do when you felt like this?

I take another hit, carefully placing my joint down and kicking off my shoes to get more comfortable on the couch. He follows my movements with his eyes.

-Journalling, going on walks, nature, fortnite. –He chuckles, looking to the other side. -I like seeing animals, watching movies, I don't know, anything that could distract me.

I smile, nodding and taking a sip of water from the third bottle we've opened since we started smoking.

-That's cool. Why don't they seem to work anymore?

He shrugs, taking the last hit before throwing the finished joint into a bowl. The smoke left his lips smoothly, now being more used to the feeling and not coughing, eyes turning slightly red as the effects hit him.

-I don't know. They don't feel the same, it's like I'm losing interest, y'know? -He asks, with his accent showing up.

I nod once again, knowing exactly what he meant. That's one of the reasons why I started smoking, years ago, and knowing how I just simply cannot live without it I feel responsible for making Matt realize this is not a good option and there are other ways of making the anxiety disappear. I don't want him to be like me.

☘︎☘︎☘︎

Matt has texted me at least once a week for the past three weeks and it was starting to worry me how badly he needed more. Smoking more than one joint, smoking alone, I warned him I wouldn't sell him that much, but he was getting used to the idea of not thinking about his problems while high and our texts were no longer just about him wanting to buy stuff.

We talked every day. I tried to keep it as superficial as possible, but it was no use since we ended up opening up to each other. I told him my reason for selling, almost all that happened in my life, and I knew so much about him too. My concerns only increased as the days went by and now, with him in my apartment for the second time this week, I knew I had to do something about it.

-Long time no see. -I joke, seeing him at my front door.

His face said what he didn't need to, he was almost panicking, sweating, pink cheeks, glossy eyes, shaky hands. He didn't seem healthy at all, and it was hurting me to know that part of it was my fault. I gave him access to drugs, I showed him how to smoke.

-I need one. -He sighs, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

We sat down on my couch, him watching me intently as I started rolling a couple of joints.

-That bad, huh? –I ask, my voice sounding a bit lower than normal. -You know I can't keep selling you this shit, right?

I look at him, my eyes sending him a warning. We talked about it before, I had to bring up how much he was contacting me for drugs and how much I disliked it.

-I know, I'll stop, I just feel really bad right now. -He tells me, but I had no trust that he'd actually stop.

-I hope so, I care about you, Matt. You're not just my customer, you know that.

My voice was soft, full of sincerity, and he knew that, his eyes also softening when he realized he was being too much.

-I just need to find other ways to deal with it. -He looks down, almost embarrassed, fidgeting his fingers.

There's a silence for a minute, all we ever talked about, how much I worry about him, how I feel responsible for him, how I'm so grateful we met and how much I hate to see him like this, all going through my mind. I couldn't bear to watch him suffer and fill him with drugs to make it go away, because I knew that it wouldn't, it just makes things worse.

I'm not an addict, at least not to the point it makes my life harder, I just use weed whenever I'm stressed, which is a lot. Although, I have the strength to do what I need to and that's good for me, it means I'm still healthy enough to go through my stuff. But Matt isn't. He doesn't seem or act healthy, and although is not just because of the weed, I think it makes him feel like he can only do stuff when he's high. And that is dangerous.

I try to think about other ways of making him feel better. My tongue sealed the first beck, putting it aside as I worked on the second one. There weren't many options, all the things he used to like seem boring to him now, and there's not much we could do. He needs something that makes both body and mind work at the same time, something that makes him tired, makes him feel.

I was reluctant to ask him what came into my mind, but as I saw him become impatient and my fingers close the second beck, I knew I had to do something, and I had to do it now.

-Matt, would you fuck me? -I ask, sealing the second beck and putting it aside.

I could've worded it better, but I felt desperate to avoid him smoking again. His eyes widen, jaw falling in surprise. I was also surprised with myself, but if I'm being honest it wasn't the first time I asked this, the only difference is that I usually ask it to myself, in my brain, not out loud, not to him.

-What?!

-You heard me.

Saying it once was enough, I had no courage to ask him twice, but at least it was kinda working, he stopped fidgeting his fingers and didn't even look at the joints that I discreetly set on the coffee table.

He seemed to think about it, processing my words, eyebrows raising as his eyes looked everywhere but at me. He licks his lips, placing each hand on each side of his body.

-I mean, yeah, I guess, but why?

His answer was not what I expected, but I didn't know what to expect. It made my heart beat faster and now I felt like the shy anxious one. I never did this before, nothing that I did with Matt I did before in my life with anyone else. Being friends with a customer is not usually the best idea, most of the time it's not even possible, but more than that?

He knows me. He truly does, and I know him, as much as he lets me. This is not just a common selling-buying relationship, it's way past that.

-Well, sex is a decent way to help with your anxiety, better than drugs.

I explain, my voice slightly shaky, eyes meeting his awkwardly, hoping I was making any sense.

When he studies me with his eyes I feel nervous, he could pay for the weed and go away, never talk to me again, say all the worst things he could think of.

Instead, he only nods, face turning serious.

-Do you want to do it or do you just want me to quit the weed so bad you're considering it?

His words caught me by surprise, but by now I shouldn't be surprised with anything anymore. Although it was kind of a harsh statement, I knew where he was coming from and the tone in his voice showed me he was as hesitant as I was.

-I do want you to quit, but I wouldn't do it just because of it. -My answer was clear, and almost a relief, for both of us.

There was another silence, not long, but that carried all the emotions and uncertainties both of us had at the moment.

-I get anxious a lot. -Matt says, half joking, half teasing.

Feels like we got ourselves an agreement, and I just know things are changing drastically between us now.

-I'm aware of that. -I joke back.

We smile at each other, taking in the final moment of acceptance before Matt's lips are on mine. I quickly kiss him back, our lips moving slowly at first, savoring each other's taste. There was a pause to breathe that didn't last long until we were kissing again.

With those two kisses I was more than happy with myself for thinking of such a good way of helping him, if I wasn't sure why I felt the urge to do something about it now it was crystal clear. I like him. Talking to him, being his dealer, being his friend, getting to know him, caring about him, it might or might not be in a romantic way, but I like him, a lot.

Feeling his lips on mine, our tongues brushing together, him carefully laying me down on the couch and hovering me, with one hand finally holding my waist. I definitely like him, and I like this, I like his touch as much as I like his voice, I like kissing him as much as I like hanging out with him, I like all of him.

Our shirts were on the floor, my bra hanging over the coffee table, his hands exploring my skin as I shivered, eyes connected as he slipped my pants down. His fingers were cold, pressing on my soaked panties, eyes admiring it like a work of art, speechless.

All anxiety in his body left when my last piece of clothes was discarded and his mouth did wonders on me, moans probably pissing off the neighbors as I tried to pull him closer by his hair.

-Fuck, Matt, I'm gonna cum... -I warn him with a whiny voice, back arching and head falling back.

-Please do, wanna taste you so bad. -He barely takes his mouth out of me to say, hands gently caressing my thighs.

My first orgasm with him was surprisingly good, not that I expected it to be bad, but definitely didn't expect it to feel so... perfect. He smiled at me like he was proud, kissing all over my body until his lips found mine again, making me taste myself.

His clothes were soon discarded as well and just by the sight of him I knew I had one more reason to like him. He seemed the calmest I've ever seen him, considering what was happening, a smirk of confidence on his lips proving he knew exactly what he was doing to me. His hand wraps around his length, teasing my folds with his tip and holding himself up with his other arm.

-Wanted to do this for so long, if I knew I had a chance I wouldn't even ask for so much weed just to see you. -He smirks down at me, circling my sensitive clit with his tip.

The feelings were so intense I almost missed what he said, but when my brain processed his words I was shocked. My jaw fell in surprise, eyes widening and my arm lifting so I could slap his arm with my hand, giving him a look of disbelief.

-You're unbelievable, you didn't have to buy anything, or use anything! We could've just hung out. -I say, trying not to smile at the fact he confessed he wanted to see me.

But in awful terms and I felt even more responsible for his acts.

I didn't have time to be mad at him, though, because he decided it was the perfect time to push all of him at once. My gasp was so loud that the entire building probably heard it, my walls fell on fire for a few seconds and he remained in the same position until my expression softened and he started to move.

His confession fully disappeared from my mind when I felt just how good he could feel. It gave me butterflies to feel him moving at a slow pace, keeping eye contact like he wanted to make sure everything was okay. His eyes looked so pretty, dark and full of desire, but also affection.

Matt kisses me again as he fasteners his thrusts, making me moan against his lips. One of his hands grabs one of my thighs, holding it up against my chest, hitting deeper.

-So fucking good. -He whispers, a long breath leaving his lips as his eyes roll back and his head falls.

My nails leave bruises on his back as I feel my second orgasm building up, sounds getting louder and my body squirming non-stop under him. Didn't take long for me to reach it, him following and pulling off just fast enough to paint my stomach with his seed.

After deep breaths and a long hug to calm down, Matt stands up and walks to my bathroom, already knowing how to navigate through my apartment, and comes back with a towel to clean us. When we were done he left me putting on my clothes again to get me some water.

Both decently dressed, a pause to the bathroom and lots of water later, Matt and I sit back on the couch, looking at each other, my head resting on the backrest and his hand moving my hair behind my ear.

-I didn't smoke all the joints I bought. I gave some to my friends who smoke. I only smoked once without you and I hated it. I was too nervous to ask you to just hang out, I wasn't sure if you'd want to, so I kept coming back to buy more because I knew I could spend time with you that way.

His voice was soft and sweet, only sharing his truth with me without being scared of it. Although it was adorable that he wanted to see me so much he found a way he thought it was the best, I hated how unsure he was if I'd want to spend time with him back. I also hated that weed was involved in this.

I smile at him, taking his free hand in mine and interlacing our fingers, rubbing my thumb against his skin.

-Matt, I really like seeing you and hanging out with you, there's no need to feel nervous, weed or no weed I still want you around. Honestly, preferably with no weed, you don't need it, never did.

His eyes showed so much gratitude, almost shining with relief. He smiles back, nodding his head and looking down at our fingers, his other hand still playing with my hair.

-Yeah, it didn't help me that much, but at least it brought you into my life, so I'm grateful for it.

My heart swells with affection, butterflies flying free in my stomach. I reach out to press a soft kiss on his lips, wanting to show him just how much I enjoyed knowing how he feels.

-I'm so happy to have you in my life, Matt. -I whisper, pulling away just enough to say it.

We smile at each other, both of his hands now on my cheeks, cupping them gently.

-Does this mean you'd say yes to a date?

I giggle, nodding and wrapping my arms around him.

-Yes, I'd love to.

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @chrisxcherry @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @larallott @stqrnlvs @sssoniaswiftt @s1ut4chris @lovingregulusblack @sturnslutz @star-yawnznn @jupiter-rebel

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Visitation Rights

The Professionals is a crossover of In The Woods Somewhere and Professional//Victim, co-written with @victimeyez CW: long term captivity, (seemingly) conditioned whumpee, references to past torture, mild physical violence, and worst of all, socially awkward situations

Buck’s visits were a highlight of Tommy’s time at the lodge. He tried to make it out every couple weeks. Fletcher was omnipresent, always supervising them, but the three of them would play cards and watch movies. Once, Buck brought his gaming console from home so they could play Super Smash Bros. 

Every time, Tommy’s heart lifted from having someone around who cared to just spend time with him, just to make him happy.

And every time Buck left, Tommy would slip into a cold darkness in his mind; the stark absence of Buck’s sunshine. 

Buck knew what Fletcher put Tommy through. He knew that Fletcher was on their best behavior when he was around. And yet Buck left after only a few hours, not to return again for two or three weeks at a time. Just leaving Tommy alone to his fate. 

Buck was allowed to leave. Tommy was not. 

That bastard. With his car and his job and his apartment and his boyfriend.

Tommy felt his stomach drop when Buck had mentioned that. “My boyfriend…”

It was stupid, but it hurt to know that Buck had other relationships, outside in the real world, that he would leave Tommy for and go home to.

And yet Tommy counted down the days until Buck returned. When he walked through that door, all was forgiven. 

Buck felt like he was driving to court mandated community service, except the court was himself and the community was one person. 

His crime, then, was being the one who got out. His punishment was having to go back.

It wasn’t that bad, really, it was just… supremely uncomfortable. Fletcher didn’t do anything to him besides act like a smug asshole sometimes. The new class of trainees barely gave him a second glance. And Tommy was nice and all, and Buck could tell that he really appreciated the visits, it was just…

Tommy fawned hard for Fletcher. It was normal to expect him to be scared of them, to heed their will, but Tommy acted trained. He acted broken in.

It was gross to watch, frankly. Part of Buck judged him. He himself had learned that it was better to obey and not talk back, but he had never pretended to like it. He had never pretended to like Fletcher.   

Part of Buck hated it because it showed what would have happened to him if he hadn’t gotten out. 

When he tried to tell himself he wasn’t like that, it brought to mind all the times he had thanked Fletcher for mercy or small kindnesses. All the times he had begged and bent and told Fetcher what they wanted to hear. 

Tommy had been living this life for five years. Both he and Fletcher had said whoever had kept him captive before was even worse. Buck really couldn’t blame Tommy for becoming whatever he needed to be to stay alive.

It was still hard to witness. 

But Tommy seemed genuinely happy when Buck came over, not just a performance to keep himself out of trouble. He smiled so wide it made the scar around his eye crinkle.

Is that how Buck’s looks when he smiles?

Tommy’s nervous, eager to please attitude paired with giddy excitement of having a friend did give him the vibe of a kid who wanted to hang out with the cool, older kids. It inspired an older brother type of feeling in Buck that he’d never really experienced. He had to remind himself sometimes that Tommy was a grown adult. 

Which made the gift bag riding shotgun feel like the wrong choice, now that he was on his way with it. 

Fletcher was waiting for him outside as per usual, whittling a piece of wood. They slipped it and the carving knife into their pocket as Buck got out of the car.

Buck kept halting and hesitating as he picked up a gift bag off the passenger seat. He clutched it nervously in both hands.

Fletcher nodded at it, not having to ask aloud.

“I got him a stuffed animal,” Buck admitted, cringing slightly. “Is that, like, really infantilizing? I mean, he’s like, how old?”

“He’s thirty.”

“He’s thirty?” Buck repeated incredulously.

“I know; they kept him baby-faced and twinky,” Fletcher agreed.

“Okay, this is stupid,” Buck shook his head and began to put the bag back in the car.

“No, no,” Fletcher waved their hand at him. “He’ll like it.”

Buck hesitated again, bag frozen halfway. “You sure? Like, honestly?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Come on.”

Tommy was resolved to keep it together this time. No pinning all his hopes and happiness on Buck. Buck was just a guy who came around sometimes. Maybe he counts as a friend, or maybe just an acquaintance. A friend of a friend. Something like that. 

Tommy was sitting in bed reading when the knock came. He had tried reading outside first, but the weather was turning and the cold wind was too biting to be comfortable.

Fletcher led the way into the room and stepped aside for Buck. He was fiddling with a colorful gift bag held between both hands.

“Hey, um…” Buck toyed with the bag before holding it out to Tommy, shoulders drawn up in embarrassment. “This is for you.”

Tommy glanced at Fletcher for approval, who gave him a nod. He reached out and took the bag, heart fluttering with nervous excitement. Pulling aside the tissue paper he revealed a teddy bear.

Tommy pulled the bear from the bag and held it with both hands, staring at it. It had soft brown fur, arms and legs out, semi-stiff, somewhat curved.

“It’s designed to, like, hug,” Buck explained. “Sorry, I know it’s kinda… I know you’re an adult…”

Tommy pulled his gaze away from the bear to look at Buck, eyes shining with tears.

“This is really for me?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yeah,” Buck said gently. “Of course.”

Tommy clutched the bear tight to his chest, burying his face in the fur. Its limbs were perfectly shaped to embrace him back. Fuck “keeping it together.” Buck was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“I love it,” Tommy said, voice muffled. “Thank you.”

Fletcher smiled and nudged Buck. It wasn’t a cruel smirk, just a genuine, See? I told you he’d like it.

Buck inherited a small friend group when he and Nico started dating. They had recently introduced him to a board game called The Settlers of Catan. It had been a good time, and he wasn’t sure exactly how that might translate with these two, but he had decided to give it a go. 

Tommy was eager, as always. He always seemed hungry for anything new - new things to learn about the world outside, new things to try. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so pitiful. Fletcher always kept their look of detached amusement, but they would forget to keep it up as the visit moved along. Buck might have been here for Tommy, but in an odd way, this was therapy for Fletcher, too. 

Fletcher snatched the orange pieces up while Buck started setting up the board. 

“What color would you like to play as?” He asked Tommy, while he finished linking together the border pieces. 

“You pick first, I’m not picky,” Tommy offered easily.

Buck had noticed Tommy avoided making choices for himself even when he could. It felt like he should be eager to have some control where he could, but he never took the opportunity. Buck had never lost his will, not till the very end, but Tommy seemed nearly mindless on his own. 

“I’m still setting up the game, how about you pick a color in the meantime?” Buck tried gently.

“That’s okay, I can wait,” Tommy responded. “Can I help set up the board?” 

Buck looked up at him finally, and Tommy was smiling sweetly at him, an adoring look in his eyes. Did he think of as Buck another master? Tommy pandering to him gave him a sudden jolt of revulsion. 

“Don’t you want to make choices when you can?” 

Buck meant it to come out kinder than it sounded. It was a little too sharp, almost accusatory. It shouldn’t have mattered, but Tommy was very tuned in to tone and body language. His face fell and he slouched in his seat, ducking his head. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll take…” Tommy’s hand hesitated in the air; he didn’t seem to know how to make a choice for himself anymore. 

“Pick a color, boy.” Fletcher’s voice was flat. 

Tommy grabbed the nearest baggie of pieces without even looking at the color, just worriedly trying to read Fletcher’s face to gauge how much he’d annoyed them. When he looked back down at his hand and saw he’d chosen yellow, there was a tug down at the edges of his mouth. Buck almost asked him if he’d like to pick again, but there’d already been too much fuss over picking a color. Fletcher was less patient than Buck, and looked vaguely annoyed. Tommy had pulled his arms in, looking disproportionally upset, but with a grim look of determination. To play the game? To keep from crying? To associate like a normal person? Buck couldn’t tell. 

Buck explained the rules, while Fletcher flicked through the rulebook, looking up at him and then back to the book like they were checking him. They stroked their chin thoughtfully.

“Fletcher? Have you played this before?” He realized he hadn’t even considered it, though according to his friends this had been a popular game for a while. Who would Fletcher be playing board games with? The trainees? 

“No, I’m just hilarious.” 

Fletcher’s voice was entirely calm, nonchalant enough that it took Buck a moment to process. The laugh that erupted from him was mostly incredulous. Tommy had broken first, giggling, and there was a look of genuine happiness back in his features. Fletcher chuckled to themselves and started to collect the resource cards in a row in front of them. 

“I’ll play banker,” they announced.

Buck snatched them back. “Absolutely not, you’ll be stealing from the bank every second we aren’t looking!”

“Labor is entitled to all it creates, Buck.”

“Not here!”

 

When Tommy had to choose where to locate his settlements among the different paths, Fletcher would start to count down from 5. Buck ignored them and helped Tommy pick, explaining some strategy. Fletcher was more interested in maximizing the amount of sheep they could get over a real strategy, or at least, as far as Buck could tell. But they also picked places near forest sections. 

“I belong in the trees.”

Trading and bargaining was one of the best parts with his friends at home. He hadn’t thought about how uncomfortable it would be when Fletcher wanted to make alliances. Both boys had quickly gotten possessive of their imaginary settlements, and neither was eager to help Fletcher in-game for entirely out-of-game reasons. Fletcher stared at Buck. 

“Nope. No chance.” 

Fletcher’s eye twitched. They leveled their gaze at Tommy.

“I don’t have any wheat, sorry.” He carefully kept his hand out of Fletcher’s vision. 

Fletcher flicked their proposed trade, one of the many sheep cards they now held, onto the table in front of Tommy.

“Yep, yeah, sure,” Tommy chirped, intimidated easily into handing over a wheat card. 

“Dishonesty is unbecoming of you.”

“Yes Fletcher, I’m sorry Fletcher.”

“Uh-huh.”

It was still playful enough, goofy enough, that Buck almost felt like he was still playing with normal people. If anyone else had intimidated so seriously over Settlers of Catan, it would have been really funny. With Fletcher, it was still pretty funny. Or Buck was as fucked as both of them - a likely possibility. 

Fletcher beat Buck by a narrow margin, mostly because he and Tommy were much less aggressive players. They ended up doing a few rounds, and Buck won twice. Tommy got the last game by stealing from Fletcher. Buck was 97% sure Fletcher wouldn’t punish him for that. After that, they had dinner, and wound up talking a while longer over an evening pot of coffee. 

When it came time for Buck to schedule his next visit, Fletcher pulled out their phone to look at a calendar.

“You have a smartphone?” Buck asked incredulously.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Well, you play music off of like a 2005 ipod nano,” Buck said. “I guess I expected you to have a flip phone. Or a jitterbug.”

Fletcher scoffed, chuckling lightly as they said, “First of all, it’s not from 2005.”

Tommy was having a great evening, after his blunder. It really felt like he was just hanging out with friends, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in five years. Tommy wanted to play along. He wanted to be part of the group, be able to joke and rib with the others. He wanted to belong. 

“Yeah, I thought I was the one who was cut off from the world for five years,” Tommy laughed.

Buck grimaced and tried to hide it by forcing a smile and a nervous chuckle. He watched Fletcher warily.

Fletcher’s attention had locked onto Tommy. They didn’t laugh. There was a ghost of a smirk on their face, a hint of amusement in their eyes. But it wasn’t because they liked Tommy’s joke. It was more of an, “Ohhh, you fucked up, bud,” kind of look. 

Tommy felt his cheeks flush. He knew he was in trouble. Buck knew he was in trouble. He had absolutely killed the vibe.  

Buck hesitated, coat and boots already on.

“You know, it’s still early…” Buck began.

“It will be late by the time you get home,” Fletcher responded without taking their eyes off of Tommy.

“Well… I don’t work tomorrow.”

“Nico will wonder where you are.”

Buck stammered, trying to think of an excuse to guard Tommy with his presence. Tommy knew it too, eyes flickering nervously between the two of them.

Eventually he just said, “Fletcher, would you like to walk me out to my car?”

“Sure, Buck,” Fletcher said easily, finally tearing their gaze off of Tommy.

As soon as they had both stepped out of the house and Fletcher had pulled the door shut, Buck turned to them.

“It was nothing,” he said immediately.

“What was?” Fletcher asked lightly, playing dumb. 

“Come on,” Buck said. “It wasn’t even an insult.”

“I don’t feel insulted.”

“Fletcher, I saw your face. Just… you don’t have to do anything.”

“Buck, there’s a delicate balance here.”

“You know he’s not gonna… what, rebel, or whatever you’re worried about. He just wanted to act like we were all friends for a moment. He was having fun.��

“We’re not friends, though, are we?”

Buck shifted from one foot to another. 

“Please take it easy on him. I remember how you strangled me when you thought I rolled my eyes at you.”

“You did roll your eyes. And you didn’t do it again, did you?”

Buck dragged his fingers through his hair, cupping his hands behind his head. 

“I’m… I’m begging.”

Fletcher laughed. “We both know this isn’t you begging.”

There was a tense silence.

“How can I convince you?”

Fletcher shrugged.

“I’m asking a favor as a friend.”

Fletcher scoffed. “That is a very consequential sentence in my line of work, but you wouldn’t know that. Look, I’m not going to kill him, alright? I’ll probably just like… smack him and give him a lecture or whatever.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not gonna like… suspend him from his wrists in the basement or something?”

Fletcher gave Buck a look. “Buck, I did that to you when you tried to kill me, not made a joke at my expense, Jesus.”

“Okay, alright.” Buck did a rotation, looking at his car and looking back. “I just feel bad leaving him…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Fletcher made a gesture of pushing him towards his car. “Go home.”

Buck reluctantly did as he was told, not knowing what else to do. No matter how many days or months or miles apart, no matter how much he owned for himself or how much life he lived on his own, Fletcher still controlled him. And he hated himself for it, but he drove away.

When Fletcher walked back inside, Tommy had disappeared. They went to his room first, expecting to see him sitting on the bed with his knees tucked to his chest waiting for them, but it was empty. 

Fletcher ducked down to check under the bed before stepping back out into the hallway. They weren’t about to play hide and seek with this guy, so they put their fingers to their tongue and whistled loudly. 

Tommy slinked out of the dark bathroom, smart enough not to ignore the call.

“You hiding out in there?” Fletcher asked.

“I was just… sittin’ in the tub.”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow and gestured Tommy over. He kept his head bowed and sank to his knees in front of them.

Fletcher’s scowl twisted. They were going to order him to do that, and Tommy doing it himself kind of took the wind out of their sails.

“Hey, look at me,” Fletcher said.

Tommy raised his head, and Fletcher slapped him hard across the cheek. They grabbed his face and aimed it back toward themself. He earned another slap when he tried to look away, instead forced to make eye contact. His eyes were wide and scared.

“Your playtime with Buck is a privilege I can take away, just like anything else. Don’t go getting fucking bold. We can play house and you can enjoy your room with a view and three meals a day and all the other bullshit I allow you as long as you know your place. You stay well behaved and things can be good. Understand?”

“Yes, Fletcher,” Tommy bleated remorsefully, his voice somewhat muffled by their grip. 

“Don’t try to fucking mock me again or I won’t be so lenient,” Fletcher added, give his head a shake for emphasis. Tommy clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut against the jarring wrenching.

“I really didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” Tommy gritted out.

Fletcher released his face so he could speak clearly. Tommy flexed his jaw.

“I just got… a little caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again. I am sorry, Fletcher, I wasn’t trying to be insulting,” he repented, clasping his hands together.

“Hmph. You’re dismissed.”

Tommy rose to his feet. He was dewy eyed, but looked surprised to be getting off so easily.

“Thank you, Fletcher.” 

He bowed his head and hurried off to his room. 

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[sosa2imagines]

Ooo since you said I could send in more suggestions I have one more if it’s all right!!🥰

Can I please request a Ransom Drysdale x fem!shy!reader where she’s his girlfriend and he’s bringing her to meet his family for the first time? They are not very welcoming to her as she isn’t wealthy like they are (like she has a normal job like being an elementary school teacher), and she’s a little bit younger than Ransom, so with all that they accuse her of being a “gold digger” because he buys are nice things and she lives in his penthouse (he just loves to spoil his girl) and make her cry? (Ransom would lose it omg)

Hey, I hope you like it, thank you so much for the ask.

Warning- Little angst, fluff, toxic family.

You nervously adjust the hem of your dress for the fifth time, glancing at Ransom as he pulls his vintage Beemer into the long driveway of the Thrombey estate.

The house looms ahead, a testament to the family’s old money and prestige. Your heart hammers in your chest, but Ransom’s warm hand finds yours, squeezing gently.

“Stop worrying,” he says, his tone laced with his trademark confidence. “They’ll hate you no matter what, so just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

You glance at Ransom's unwavering confidence, the smirk on his face adding to his roguish charm. Despite his words being intended to reassure you, they only serve to twist your stomach into knots. “That’s not reassuring,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ransom chuckles, leaning over to brush a kiss against your temple. “Relax, cupcake. You’re with me. They can’t touch you.” He’s trying to make you feel better, but the knot in your stomach tightens as you step out of the car and into the house.

As you step into the Thrombey estate alongside Ransom, the weight of the house's age and wealth hangs heavily in the air. The opulence is overwhelming, making you feel even more out of place. Ransom's hand finds the small of your back, a warm and reassuring presence amid the sea of strange faces.

The inside is as intimidating as the outside, old wood, grand staircases, and a suffocating air of wealth and judgment. The moment you walk in, all eyes are on you.

“Ransom,” his mother, Linda, greets, her sharp gaze flickering over you like she’s already made up her mind. “And this must be…?”

“This is my girlfriend,” Ransom announces, his arm slipping around your waist protectively. His tone is firm, daring anyone to challenge him.

Linda’s smile is polite but cold. “Welcome,” she says, though it sounds more like a warning than an invitation.

As the introductions go on, you feel the weight of their judgement. Joni compliments your dress, but her voice is dripping with honeyed poison. Walt's handshake is a weak and dismissive gesture, and even Meg seems reluctant to fully acknowledge you.

In a room filled with cold glances and thinly veiled disdain, only Harlan’s smile feels genuine. He looks at you, his eyes sparkling with warmth and approval.

“So you’re the one who’s managed to tame my grandson,” he says, a touch of amusement lighting up his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, his kindness like a lifeline in the sea of cold stares.

Ransom rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She’s not taming me, Gramps,” he responds, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. “She’s just making me tolerable.”

Dinner is where it all falls apart.

“So, what do you do?” Linda asks, her tone deceptively casual.

“I’m an elementary school teacher,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Linda's eyes narrow at your answer, her lips curving into a sneer.

“An elementary school teacher,” she repeats, her tone dripping with condescension. “How admirable.”

Ransom stiffens beside you, his hand gripping yours under the table. Your heart sinks a little as you see the flicker of judgement in his family's eyes.

“How noble,” Joni coos, her eyes gleaming with thinly veiled disdain. “It must be such a challenge, you know, financially.”

“I manage…” you say quietly, feeling smaller with every passing second.

Joni's saccharine words feel like a blow to your already frayed nerves. “Oh, I can imagine,” she says with a mock gasp. “It must be so hard, living on such a pitiful salary.”

Ransom's hand tightens around yours, a wordless message of support amid the mounting pressure.

“But Ransom must help, right?” Walt chimes in, his smile more predatory than kind. “Living in his penthouse, the shopping sprees…he really spoils you, doesn’t he?”

Your cheeks burn as you glance at Ransom for support, but his jaw is already tightening.

“She’s not with me for my money, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ransom says, his voice a low warning.

“Of course not,” Linda says with a forced laugh. “But it’s…an adjustment, isn’t it? Coming from such different worlds.”

The tension is palpable. You try to deflect, be polite, but the comments keep coming.

“She’s so much younger than you, Ransom,” Joni adds with a pointed look. “It’s sweet, really. Youthful innocence.”

The implication stings, and you feel the tears prickling at your eyes.

“Enough,” Ransom snaps, his voice loud enough to make everyone fall silent.

“Ransom, we’re just…” Linda starts, but he cuts her off.

“No, you’re just being the insufferable assholes you always are!” he spits, his blue eyes blazing. “She’s ten times the person any of you will ever be, and if you can’t see that, then you can eat shit!”

“Ransom!” Linda gasps, her face pale with shock.

“No, I’m serious,” he continues, his voice dripping with disdain. “Eat shit, Linda! Eat shit, Joni! Hell, eat shit, Walt! You’ve all been waiting for a chance to tear her down, but you know what? She’s better than this circus, and we’re leaving.”

He stands, pulling you gently to your feet. His touch is firm but tender, his anger dissipating the moment he looks at you.

Ransom's arm around your waist remains strong and protective, a silent testament to his loyalty to you. He seems unfazed by the family's coldness, his gaze fixed defiantly, almost daring any of them to cross a line.

Harlan speaks up as you’re leaving. “Ransom,” he calls out, his voice calm but resolute. “Take care of her. She’s a keeper.”

Ransom glances back at his grandfather, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes, before leading you out the door.

Once you’re outside, he stops, turning to you. His hands cradle your face as he studies you with uncharacteristic softness. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re vultures, and they don’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry…” you whisper, tears spilling over.

“For what? Being perfect?” He wipes your tears away with his thumb. “Cupcake, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Screw them, they can eat shit!”

You manage a small smile, and he pulls you into his arms.

“Come on,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s go home. I’ll order your favorite takeout, and we’ll forget they even exist.”

With Ransom, you know he’ll always have your back, no matter how hard the world, or his family, tries to tear you down.

Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

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@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[justkeepshippingg]

Cherry bomb Part 6: a Caitvi Hate fuck fanfic

She wants that goodness as deep inside of her as she can get. Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five The final chapter <3

The air is thick, hazy.

Vi grips either side of the small pedestal sink in front of her. She stares forward, her eyes unflinching, and meets Cait’s gaze. It’s just as hard and cool as hers. The only suggestion that she’s about to lose it is the way her crooked teeth sink down on her bottom lip. At the base of her spine, Vi feels Cait tilt her hips just a touch, pressing the strap to her skin. It’s cold, it’s silicone, it’s not Cait and she knows it, but fuck if Vi doesn’t feel like it is Cait, especially since it’s wet from all of Vi’s sucking.

She did a damned good job, if she says so herself.

Cait doesn’t touch Vi’s hips. Instead, she brings one hand to the side of the sink, around Vi’s body, her forearm just barely brushing Vi’s bare skin, and brings her other to Vi’s jaw. She presses, and Vi’s mouth falls open. They stare at each other in the mirror. The jagged cracks – the result of one of her drunken evenings, bite her, she’s not sorry about it, you’d also start punching random shit if your lesbian situationship imploded – reflect their faces right back at them. If Vi tilts her head, one Caitlin becomes a dozen. Sharp blue eyes, sharp glass. A thumb on her chin. A thumb at her lips. Vi opens her mouth and sucks. She hears Cait’s inhale and feels it against her neck: the suck of air. The suck of skin into waiting mouth. The press of Vi’s hips back, like, can we get on with this already?

Cait shakes her head, her dark hair a blue sheet as it falls over Vi’s shoulder. It’s longer than it used to be. How long had it been since their breakup? Vi’s so confused between her regular alcohol-fueled hallucinations of her hottest, cruelest ex and the jabs she’s taken right to the temple that she has no idea if it’s been weeks or months. It’s been enough time for her hair to grow, though. Vi’s own undercut could use a fresh shave.

Cait pops her thumb out of Vi’s mouth and brings it there, to the prickle of pink hair making a break from Vi’s scalp.

“Are you going to give me a shampoo, too, princess? Or are you going to hurry up and fuck me already?” Vi’s words are razor sharp, but it’s just because she’s desperate.

Cait clearly knows it. She just smiles and drops her head to the curve of Vi’s neck. Fuck she’s tall. She’s like this big, lanky, pale-skinned demon, perching on Vi’s shoulder and refusing to fuck her.

If she’s going to hang out with the ghost-demon-girl who broke her heart, the least Vi deserves is a few more orgasms.

“Fine,” Cait says. “But you have to earn it.” Her voice, soft and haughty. 

“What else do I need to do?” Vi goes to turn, but Cait’s hands refuse the motion, pinning her to the sink. Vi moans at the feel of the saliva-damp cock at her back. “Did I not make those long ass legs of yours shake enough already, commander?”

It’s Cait’s turn to moan. She sinks her forehead to Vi’s neck and inhales, exhales, pauses. She’s gathering herself.

And fuck it’s hot.

“Touch yourself,” Cait says, collected. Her chin returns to the crook of Vi’s neck. “Fuck yourself, and then I’ll fuck you.”

Vi feels a blush run hot from her cheeks to her tits. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Cait returns. “You’ve been fucking women all over town. I know there’s no chance you weren’t one of them.” She risks a thrust against Vi’s ass, and Vi groans, the sound guttural and needy and a bit pathetic.

“Fuck. Cait,” she whines.

“After all,” Cait says. “I know they weren’t making you come the way you like. Only you can do that.” She pauses. She licks a thick line up the tattoos marking Vi’s shoulder, and the chill of her spit makes Vi shudder. “And me, of course.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Vi cusses.

“Am I wrong?” Cait offers a faux-offended look in the mirror. A dozen Caitlyns have the gall to look apologetic.

“You…” Vi feels it then: the brush of the head of the dildo at her opening. “Fuck.”

“Tell me the truth,” Cait says. “Were you coming courtesy of the women of the under city while you were really thinking about me?”

Memories: flashes of Cait intermingled with blondes and brunettes and dark haired women who were surely beautiful but impossible for Vi to really see with Cait’s face and body and the swish of her blue hair in that flirty ass ponytail impressed forever into her psyche. 

“Of course I was, Cupcake,” Vi pants. “As if you’ve ever not been in my brain. You’re this evil fucking demon girl I just can’t seem to get rid of.” She laughs, and it’s fake and mean. For some reason their first kiss pops up in her brain and she thinks of how sweet it was and can’t believe they’re the same women. “Maybe I need an exorcism.”

Cait’s eyes turn damp in the mirror. Vi considers turning around to comfort her, but changes her mind. She doesn’t deserve comfort. Neither of them do.

“Are you going to fuck yourself, Vi?” Cait says. “Or should I head back home, now?”

The thought of Cait triggers something harsh inside of Vi. She doesn’t want Cait to leave. She doesn’t want her to ever leave. Vi’s eyes comb over Cait’s body in the mirror, and then they pan around her bedroom. Sad. Empty. Trashy. The room of a trash human. The space of someone who hates themselves. She wants Cait. She wants Cait.

She doesn’t want Cait to go.

“Fuck,” Vi says, her hand lowering down her body, “you.” Her hand passes her abs, the thick happy trail of messy pink hair, and she can’t help the flinch. Cait’s eyes go wide. “I need you,” Vi says, hand pushing through her folds, “to know,” she cusses, three fingers over her clit now, “I hate you,” she says, her eyes locked on Cait’s and Cait’s eyes locked on her cunt. And then she can’t talk anymore, because she’s a little busy, alright? Her hand is a mess tangled in dripping wet pink curls.

She shoves at herself, hard.

Little circles aren’t her jam, sweet little circles have never gotten her there, no, she just needs hot, wet flesh to hump, to grind herself against something unmoving. Vi’s version of fucking herself is more like beating her own cunt up than it is giving herself something gentle and calming and loving. She pushes her cunt at her fist and thrusts, and as white light shoots out of her core, she hears Cait’s words falling at her ear, her lips wet on the curve of her neck, a “you’re so good” and a “fuck, Vi,” and a “you are so beautiful, what a very, very good boy” and other sweet crooning that makes Vi feel like she might cry before she comes, or maybe she’s about to come? Is she sweating or coming? Is she sweating or crying?

Who fucking knows.

All she knows is this: her thighs are aching and on fire and she’s humping the fuck out of her own fist while her evil ex girlfriend teases her asshole with a massive blue strap and she doesn’t want this to end, she doesn’t want Cait to stop, but then she hears “I’ve got you baby, I’m not going to stop,” and she isn’t sure what she’s said out loud and what she hasn’t, but she’s too locked in to care. Vi grunts and groans and feels Cait’s hand on her throat then and she says the word “fuck” probaby thirty times in various pitches and then that white light is hotter and brighter than it’s been in months and she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming and Cait is right there at her back, hot, solid flesh to support her and keep her from drowning in all of it, the feeling of opening up and baring it all for a woman she isn’t sure if she’s madly in love with or wants to beat the shit out of.

“Cait,” Vi cries. She is crying, then. Fuck. A sob rips through her throat.

“Violet,” Cait says, and Vi snaps.

“Do not comfort me,” she says. “Just,” she wipes at her eyes with fists. “Fuck me. You came here to fuck me, so fuck me.”

The thing about their love is that it isn’t going anywhere. The thing is, Vi will never forget the first time she saw Cait’s eyes flash at her. She is never going to forget the first time she saw her pull her top over her head and reveal herself. And it wasn’t just her incredible tits or her soft tummy or the way that a single glance at Cait’s naked body made Vi wetter than she’d ever been. It was that this person, Cait as a whole, was being naked, with her. Vi knows she’s not worth anything. There are days she really isn’t sure why she’s still here. There are days where the only touch she feels from another human is the feeling of a stranger’s nails pulling her head closer to their own cunt or a fist decking her in the ribcage. Some days, the only feelings she has are bad ones. Cruel ones. Words so spiteful she isn’t sure where they come from. Maybe inside of Vi there’s just a well of cruelty, a spot that once could have been love or something kind but instead is tarnished with years of violence birthed and blood pilled and bones snapped.

The worst part is that she knows Caitlyn knows it. Vi let someone know it, and then they left. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

But letting Cait fuck her… it feels a little like winning. Like getting something back. Like admitting that, yes, Vi might be a smudged pool of slime, but this woman, this glittering, golden princess from a place filled with people who won’t even look Vi in the eye, wants her. Wants to be deep inside of her. Maybe not emotionally anymore – but physically.

She wants that goodness as deep inside of her as she can get.

Cait meets her eyes in the mirror. Vi can read her mind, and she doesn’t want to. She can almost hear the I love you, I’m sorry in her mind. Vi wants it to go away. 

“If you don’t fuck me right now,” Vi says, “I’m going to scream.”

“If that’s what you need,” Cait says, “Who am I to deny you any longer?”

Vi widens her legs. She bends her knees. She shifts her hips up and back. And she waits, hole open and dripping, to be used, to be taken, to be filled with the shock of utter goodness her body can’t create on its own. 

A tease. A press. An ache. A thrust.

“Fuck,” Vi moans, at the same time Cait says, “Oh my god, Violet,” her words rolling on a cry.

Cait thrusts forward, Vi thrusts back, and they shudder, Vi trembling beneath Caitlyn. 

“You’re taking me so well,” Cait says. She presses kisses all over Vi’s undercut. “You must be so full, baby, are you so full?”

“Fuck, Cait,” Vi whines. She shifts her thick thighs into each other, but can’t get the friction she needs; her legs are too fucking drenched. 

“What do you need, my baby?” Caitlyn croons.

“Please,” Vi says. “Just fucking rail me.”

Cait doesn’t hesitate. She bends Vi over and plants one of her own feet at the edge of the sink. With the leverage, she’s able to pound harder into Vi, each press shoving her further and further inside of Vi. Vi isn’t sure how she even has more space for Cait to conquer, but she does it, carving out her very own home inside of Vi’s soaking entrance. 

“How’s this?” Cait says, and Vi can hear the fucking smile on her perfect princess lips. “How’s this for my handsome girl?” 

“That’s it,” Vi says. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK, Cait.” 

The air is thick, hazy. Cait moans, pushing forward and pulling Vi back by her tits and her ass and the flesh of her hips. Vi is gone, her orgasm so feverish and unyielding that she thinks she might be dying. And if she is going to die, well, she knows what she wants to see. She opens her eyes, and her gray ones meet blue ones, and that’s all she needs to, finally, fall apart. 

[parkaplayboy]

main 4 + butters trying to court you HCs!

warnings: mentions of puking (stan), marijuana mention (stan) all characters are 18+ ! gender neutral reader !

Kenny McCormick

he's a nervous wreck.

when he flirts with people it usually just a one-time fling, nothing serious.

so when you pop into his life, he doesn't know what to do with himself

he's never felt this serious about anyone before

it almost angers him from the absolute chokehold you have this man in.

"I'm fucking Kenny McCormick! The original flirt! So why the hell can't I talk to them"

after every fumble he usually ends up in stan's room to sulk yet again.

stan finds it amusing to see him fumble so often

he tries so, so hard to maintain his usual air of confidence, but every time he talks to you he starts to flounder

"heyyyy, hot stuff.. you.. uh *cough* you come here often?"

it's kind of endearing to see the way he trips over his own feet to come over and talk to you

has actually face planted directly in front of you one more than one occasion

the boys rip on him ENDLESSLY for it.

he may not have much money, but what he lacks in funds he makes up in experience.

he will offer to tag along with you for even the most mundane tasks

"Ken, I'm just going to the hardware store." "What you meant to say is we are just going to the hardware store."

fiddles with the hem of his parka when he gets shy

god forbid you flirt with him. he CANNOT handle it

the poor boy damn near passed out the first time you kissed him.

Stan Marsh

for the most part he's level headed

until you fluster him too much.

the first time you flirted back he projectile vomited all over his own shoes.

he tries to make up for what he lacks in the words department with gifts.

if you smoke weed he will steal some from Randy's farm and give it to you

if that's not your thing, he will buy you trinkets and say "i saw this and thought of you"

he will invite you to band practice and not so subtly "serenade" you

kenny heckles him when he does this.

he will offer to teach you how to play guitar as an excuse to see you

when he finally decides to formally ask you out, it would most likely be when you guys are hanging out 1-1

he doesn't like grand gestures nor the pressure of other people in the room

Kyle Broflovski

hands down the most romantic out of the group

he'll buy you all the cliche romantic gifts

however he's not very good at flirting.. nor receiving compliments. not in person at least.

he gets flustered very easily

HOWEVER ! he found a loop hole :3

he may not be good at words when it comes to being face to face with you, but that doesn't mean he can't write down his thoughts.

which brings me to my next point !

he will leave letters for you to find!

kyle decorated the envelopes like a cliche anime confession note

eric has yet to let him live it down.

he's definitely big on grand gestures!

when he asks you out he'd do it in a romantic spot

the top of the ferris wheel, during your favorite band's concert, etc

he wants to do it big !

Eric Cartman

I hate to say it.

but he becomes more of an asshole than usual

but not in the mean way if that makes sense?

he just generally becomes a grade A nuisance

eric is definitely one of those guys that think teasing = flirting

he's not too big on gifts (besides snacks) but if he does get you something, he will try to make it seem like the smallest deal possible.

"yeah, yeah, whatever, it was on sale. don't cry over it or I'll take it back"

deep down really likes it when you get excited because it makes him feel like he did a good job

circling back to the snacks thing!

he truly views food as the sixth love language

he won't ask you directly, but he will try hard to figure out your favorite foods so he can buy/give them to you

first time he has you over for dinner he begs his mom to make your favorite meal

he sends you memes daily,

it gets to the point where he's basically just sending his entire fyp to you

speaking of which !

when he asks you out, he will use one of those shitty text block memes that say smth like "we should hold hands in the burger king parking lot"

(its also a self protection method because if you said no he could pretend it was just the meme)

Butters Stotch

this boy is too nervous to ask you out, i'm afraid

you will infact have to make the first move

however!

he's such a sweetheart

he will always walk you home

butters will offer his coat to you even if you have your own

"Butters for one, I have my own coat, for two its not even raini-" "You can never be too bundled up!"

like stan, he physically cannot handle affection.

he gets nose bleeds every time he gets flustered because he blushes like a tomato

he has to start carrying around a tiny pack of tissues when you two hang out

you MUST be direct with this man.

he will not pick up on the fact that you're flirting unless you spell it out to him

the first time you flirted with him was when you were hanging out with him and the main four guys.

you said something flirty right before they dropped you off but he didn't have a single clue

"Butters. what the hell was that?!" "Well wh'dya mean, eric?" "Did you seriously not pick up on the fact that they were flirting with you?" "Th-they WHAT??"

~~~~~

a/n: how obvious is it that kenny is my fav...

[lionheartair]

The approval is all he needs. Maybe if he's lucky he can at least let his manager know he's leaving if he's in the kitchens. He'd hate to lose his job, but he'd hate to disappoint Butch as well. It's been a pleasant evening thus far, but he does need money to live, especially as check to check as he is.

"Alright, love. Follow me." He gestures, before walking away from the bar. It served kind of like a centerpiece to the lounge, a ring with a large serving selection behind it and several taps, easily accessible from everywhere else in the room. Most seats around it also had a decent viewing of the stage, where performers might play or entertain with an act. Getting him to the other side of the bar blocks them from view of most of the party-goers by that stage, unless they came this way, so his leaving might not be noticed as swift.

Artair continues leading Butch towards the bathrooms, before taking a left for the swinging doors of the kitchens instead. Inside, the cooks are busy working, too busy to pay much mind. They're already used to the odd person being ushered through to avoid unwanted attention as is. Artair glances around, but his manager isn't here, likely trying to talk up someone at the party. Shame.

Artair sighs and brings them to a doors on the other end of the kitchen. It spills out into a quiet alley with a lamplight hanging from the brick building of the lounge itself. Golden orange illuminates damp street and reflects off rain that must've fallen in the last few hours. The dumpster is to their left, and to their right is a small path beside the building, that leads back to the main street.

"Hows that fer subtle." Artair sounds just a hint hopeful.

Unfortunately for Artair, Butch is full of terrible ideas, something he would quickly come to learn should he decide to stick around.

He watches Blondie’s face as he mulls over the thought of ditching and he can tell he’s more than hesitant. It might have been a bad idea in reality but in Butch’s mind, a bad idea was sticking around and waiting out this boring ass after party even though everything was already over. He loathed the paparazzi and the questions that came with them and more over, he needed a break. No—he deserved one, as did his new acquaintance here. So in his own minds reality, he’s really doing this guy a favor!

The rockstar beams a gold tooth gapped grin when the taller blonde concedes and he’s already prepared to scoot when Artair suggests a more subtle exit which stops him in his tracks. He peers over the crowd too, his managers bright purple outfit standing out the moment his eyes graze in her direction. He can feel those intense ambers staring back, if only for a moment, before they return to the rich looking fella she’s conversing with. Now was his chance.

His attention snaps back towards Artair and he gives an eager nod, “Err—yeah, th’ more down low we can keep it, th’ better. Wouldn’t want y’stuck in th’ crossfire’f them vultures.” He says, eyes darting around then. “S’there some kinda secret passage ‘round here I don’ know ‘bout? I think you oughta lead on this time, Blondie~”

[horseonvhs]

some originals character i’m working on

[lycandrophile]

i hate that i have work tomorrow because i’m the only trans person there and multiple coworkers have already made it very clear that they voted for trump and the only other queer person there once told me she doesn’t go to pride anymore because she’s embarrassed by other queer people so even if she’s there i’m not confident that there would be much solidarity there at all. if anything will get me to quit this job after all the bullshit i’ve pushed through, it’ll be listening to everyone try to justify their vote to the resident trans person that they all know they fucked over. that break room is going to be absolutely insufferable. (and really, the idea that it might be contained to just the break room is wishful thinking.)

[bunnygibson]

i never really think about how billy is hodgson and little's steward too... i bet hodge is so nice like "AH hello William my boy! how are you this fine day :D" and billy responds with all the enthusiasm of a 16 year-old flipping burgers

[vilelittlecritter]

Ha ha I don't know what I want to do with my life and I feel unsatisfied with my current condition!

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in alt text] my magnum opus

[theintelligentfool]

you guys i love college so much