#why is there two tags which is the right one help

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

To respond to prev tags:

The two major retailers I worked for were Five Below and CVS. Both had email quotas, as well as many other quotas to fill.

Thing is, our corporations really REALLY pushed for literally every customer to give their emails and phone numbers to us. We were taught, at both places, to greet customers at the same time we asked for emails, and to word it in a way which made it hard to deny giving an email.

For exmaple:

"Hi there, hope you're well! What's your email?"

"Hope you found what you needed today! Your email, please."

In both scenarios, you don't offer the customer a yes or no choice to deny or offer their email. You simply just ask for it outright instead of leaving the option to deny at all.

Now, a customer can deny, obviously, but then corporate got really fucking angry because a lot of people did say, "I don't have an email." Or something like that. And corporate would see that the number of emails added to their distribution system by our store was not what they expected, and they'd send our boss constant emails or give calls and send reports recording our quotas that were lacking, explaining they need us to do better.

Sometimes this was as low as 20% of customers giving an email, sometimes it was as high as 50 or 60%.

And it didn't help when half the customers didn't speak English (can't blame them, this language is a nightmare to learn) and therefore didn't know what I was asking, or that the ones who did were our regulars who signed up years ago and therefore wouldn't count being added again to the corporate email distribution system.

When folks went to checkout, the pin pads to insert or swipe cards would show a screen asking for email verification if one was listed, or asked if they wanted to add an email, and said customers could not swipe or insert their cards without selecting yes or no on the pin pad screen. It literally did not move on to payment until after the question was answered.

That was a nightmare with the non-English-speaking customers. They knew the process to pay with card, obviously, but how do you tell someone who doesn't know your language that they need to select yes or no in order to pay at all???

I often literally just spun the pin pad to myself and selected "no" for these poor folks, then spun it back to them so they could continue to pay.

Five Below was the worst because they ALWAYS ask a survey question before you can pay. It's because they have survey quotas to meet, and since those weren't met by the stores, it became mandatory by implementing it into the payment process.

Those surveys ask 1 or 2 questions that you have to select usually from a 1-5 scale, and are about either the customer service satisfaction rating, store cleanliness, or stock availability, etc.

And anything under the top most rating by Five Below was considered worthy of repremandation by the boss because it should only ever be 5/5 or 10/10 since you need to offer only the absolute best and nothing short!!!

But again, most of my customers didn't know any English, so it wasn't like I could explain this survey or tell them why their payment isn't working.

For CVS my boss printed out and highlighted and circled the quotas made vs those expected for each thing we had to meet, one of them being emails added.

I was hounded every day at both retailers I worked for to get as many emails as possible, but the large majority of customers, as in almost 100%, denied their emails to me or made excuses, and I can't and don't blame them!! I got bogus emails left and right, I was insulted left and right for trying to ask for the emails when folks were the stingy type that got defensive if I asked anything at all (and that's way more customers than you'd ever imagine), and some people threatened me, even.

But I was reprimanded constantly at both retailers by my bosses and managers if I did not ask every single customer for their email. I got told I wasn't doing my job at all or well enough, I was told I wasn't up to standards and shit.

One coworker I had would hear a customer say, "I don't have an email." And she'd ask them, "What about your wife/husband? Your sister/brother? A friend? Anyone you can think of." She tried so damn hard to get any email just to meet the quotas because that woman worked way too hard in attempt to overperform at a damn opening-level position that demanded way too much from far too few employees that were all overworked.

So yeah. Honestly, it's all stupid, and corporate is stupid, and I truly hate both Five Below and CVS for more things than just these quotas, but that was a large contributor for why I no longer work in retail.

everywhere I go people are asking me for my email. my email is in high demand. it's rare for me to visit a website without someone getting on their hands and knees, begging me for my email

[grimmsbride]

omf umm 🫣 your rex was so good. this is so specific but i feel like our preferences line up p well so im humbly requesting...

douchebag!rex and chubby!reader where rex is constantly teasing her, maybe pinching her side or teasing her for eating sweets or something. but behind the scenes he CANNOT get enough of her, furiously jerks off to the thought of her nightly, gets jealous when other ppl get too close to her.

she gets hit with sex pollen at some point and he gets assigned the job of taking care of her and making sure she doesn't try to fuck everyone she sees. but rex is the one having a hard time keeping it together bc fuck why is she so cute when shes a desperate mess

𝄃𝄀⠀⠀love potions⠀╲ rex sloan ֤ࣨ🫀𖥔 ݁ ˖

summary * 𓈒 you didn’t particularly like rex-splode, and the feeling seemed to be pretty neutral on his end. but a sudden mix of mystery smoke and being quarantined together, brings the two of you far closer then it should have.

tags * 𓈒 rex is extremely ooc. if you are here for a complete canon copy of him, you are at the wrong place— sorry to disappoint. | reader is a witch | typical sex pollen fic only this is my first time ever writing one 😞 | porn with plot(?) | incorrect biology (? maybe??) | sex with complicated feelings | mentions and examples of negging | rex is a dick & douchebag | reader is depicted as chubby / plus size & is a witch | overstimulation | over-exaggerated depictions of sex | raw sex | multiple positions | multiple orgasms | pet names ( pretty, mama, baby, etc etc ) | again hes ooc. | awkward time skips i’m sorryyy

author’s notes * 𓈒 this fic was supposed to be posted like two days ago but i made it way longer then i should have, and i genuinely don’t love how it came out but i still wanted to give my best in fulfilling your request— ty for requesting by the way 🫶🏾. the smut is towards the end if you don’t want to completely read the plot and as always please excuse any typos. i hope you enjoy this fic.

Had you broken your promise to Cecil? Your bold vow that you would never hex any of your teammates, no matter how much they pissed you off? Rex Sloan simply couldn’t wrap his head around it, brain nearly emitting smoke from how much his gears were turning.

It.. had to be a hex, right? Some spell in a fancy language he couldn’t identify, written right in those dingy pages of that grimoire you held so dear. He wondered how you did it, if you stood over him while he slept— whispering saccharine words and giggles, slipping in and out while he was none the wiser.

Only for Rex to wake with nothing but you, on his mind.

It was comical really, how much the outside body covers. One would think Rex hated your guts. And his mouth surely didn’t help. Releasing random remarks about your clothes clinging to your skin, how you should put down that donut once in a while, even going as far as pinching your sides — which always resulted in a quick slap, but still — if anyone on The Guardians were ever asked what relationship the two of you had it could always be described as borderline hostile.

However, appearances can be deceiving. It wasn’t that Rex hated you, or your body for that matter. Quite the opposite actually. The man couldn’t count on two hands how many times his eyes have trailed to your ass whenever you walked by or how he could nearly tremble whenever your form brushed up against him. You consumed him entirely; smell, face, everything about you was intoxicating to the point he simply could not get you out of his mind.

Working out? Rex was wondering if he would be able to lift you at his current rep. How his fingers would probably sink into your warm flesh as he tugged you closer by the hips, maybe you would even whine about being heavy— only for him to prove you wrong.

In the shower? All that steam surrounding him? Oh, the man could only imagine having you right beside him, suds sliding down your body like the stretch marks etched into your skin; the man would be steady wondering how hot and heavy the two of you could get— melting into the other until you’re basically forced to get out.

In his bed, under those comfortable blankets was the worst of all. During the day Rex was able to ignore his thoughts and focus on being a dick to everyone — mostly you — and being a superhero. But in his bed with nothing to ground him, his mind went wild.

Wild enough that it affected the rest of his body.

Most nights were spent rather sinfully, a hand wrapped tightly around his dick whilst arousal dripped from his angry red tip. Rex’s free hand was always on his face, as if shameful for what he was doing. And technically he was.

He was Rex Sloan, basically resident fuck-boy; meaning, jerking off should be really be at the bottom of the list. But when it came to you, any thought of approaching you for such a thing, for something other than random insults and remarks— the man was suddenly mute.

“Rex. Are you listening?”

The mechanical voice cut through the flood of thoughts swarming the man’s mind, snapping his eyes from the random buildings passing by to the machine currently driving the vehicle that soared through the air. And to the side was you, sitting so prim and perfectly in your dark clothes; hand currently occupied by a mirror to which your free hand plucked and fluffed your hair. In the midst your hand dragged down towards your chubby cheek and lower, fingers resting upon your lips to which you gently smoothed— probably assuring they were free of anything.

Rex couldn’t help but stare, throughly entranced with it all— suddenly feeling very jealous of your finger tips.

Were your lips as soft as they looked? He wondered how you would taste, he could just imagine them wrapped around his di—

“Rex?”

The moment his name was spoken again your eyes suddenly snapped to his through the mirror, causing the man to quickly look away, nearly glaring daggers into the back of Robot’s head.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” He waved it off, forcing a nonchalant facade. “We go to some greenhouse, blow up some freakish plant monster— and then get on with the day.”

Rex then allowed his gaze to tilt back to you, a rather stupid grin suddenly crossing his features.

“But what’s Ms. Sabrina the Witch doing here? You and I could handle this job no problem without the extra weight.”

Your eyebrow twitched, slamming your compact mirror closed as you turned to glare at the man.

“You think you’re so funny.. Maybe I should call Amanda to whoop your ass again.”

“What, you need a little girl to fight your battles?”

“Rex, you aren’t even worth a single spell in my book.. Though,” Your eyes trailed away from the man, suddenly looking deep in thought as your arms crossed over your bosom; “— Maybe I could turn you into a toad.. I’m not sure you would look any different, however.”

Rex couldn’t help but scoff, feeling far too many emotions swarm his stomach the moment he noticed those perfect lips lift into a simper. His own parted, ready to release some fast remark when Robot interrupted;

“From the information gathered by Cecil, there seems to be magical forces at play; explaining the sudden behavior of the plant. Both of you are needed for this mission, and you two are expected to act as a team.”

Those final words were spoken, the tense atmosphere quickly delving into silence. Like teenagers ridiculed the two of you crossed your arms, leaning back into your seats and waiting silently for this damned mission to begin.

Moments passed before the vehicle suddenly stopped, lowering to the ground before a large greenhouse. The windows were frosted, yet large shadows seemed to be pressed against the glass.

With ease you slipped out of the car, tucking your spellbook close and inspecting the outside carefully. What Robot said was right, there seemed to be some type of magical presence; strong enough you felt it from the outside.

You turned, hearing your other teammates exit the vehicle— Robot stepping to stand beside you. His metallic hand rose to the handle of the building, giving the two of you a single glance;

“Are you ready t—“

“Let’s get this over with already!”

. . .

Minutes, possibly even hours passed with the three of you attacking the plant that had taken over the building. With each vine Rex seemed to explode, another grew; dwindling all your progress to zero.

Finally in a sudden turn of events you found the perfect spell, reciting the olden language as a dark spiraled glyph etched into the ground below the plant.

Light sprung from your magic, incinerating the monster from within.

In the midst of this however, a sudden pinkish hue entered the air in the form of smoke, chasing towards you desperately as the plant breathed its final moments. You quickly flung an arm around your face, but it was far too late; feeling the foreign air run up your nose in a painful burn. It trickled down to your throat, clogging so much you began to cough; body shaking from the excursion. You fell to your knees, struggling to catch your breath, as sloppy wet coughs escaped your chest.

“[Name]!”

You didn’t know whether it was Rex or Robot speaking, deciding to focus on your breathing instead. Your eyes shut close, sucking in harshly to hopefully fill your lungs with fresh air and not whatever that mysterious smoke was. It took a couple of tries but you eventually succeeded, feeling your rushing heart relax the moment you could breathe again.

You slowly lifted from your hunched position, noting the way Robot stood close to you whilst Rex stood off to the side, gaze settled upon you with an unreadable expression.

“What the hell was that, Robot?! Did it just piss on her?”

“You’re..” You huffed softly, slowly rising to your feet, tucking your book close to your body. “— so immature.”

“I’m asking a serious question!”

You shook your head, switching your gaze over to the still machine, waiting for some type of answer. You secretly prayed Rex was wrong, knowing you would probably gag if it truly was magical monster plant pee.

“It wasn’t urine, Rex; the plant released a pheromone as a response to [Name] killing it. “ Rex explained slowly, stepping a tad bit closer to you, clearly scanning your form. “It’s current effects are unknown to me, however you seemed to have inhaled most of it and absorbed it through your skin.”

“What?” You hissed in concern, eyes falling to your body as if searching for some type of answer. You even went as far as swiping your skin, truly desperate to get whatever the hell it was off you.

“That won’t work.”

“Yeah, no shit Robot—“ Rex stepped in, eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he glanced down at you before switching his gaze back to his other teammate. “What are you gonna do?”

All was silent for a moment as Robot thought it over, possibly doing millions of calculations for an answer. You stood quietly, attempting to swallow your fear. This so called pheromone couldn’t be that bad.. right? Maybe it was like a skunk thing?

Okay, that did sound pretty bad.

Robot stole you from your thoughts the moment he spoke again, your eyes flicking to him and noticing his own head switched towards Rex.

“For now, while I assess the effects the two of you will be quarantined together.”

“What?”

“There’s no way in he—“

“You could possibly infect the others through contact and given Rex was nearby during the event, there’s a possibility the pheromones hit him as well.” Robot cut through your childish remarks with ease, watching your mouths clamp shut in response.

“This is only temporary. I will figure out an answer soon. For now, please work with me.”

. . .

You wanted to work with Robot, or more like needed to. So you were pretty silent on the ride back to headquarters albeit the little groans of irritation that escaped you each time you shifted, suddenly feeling every bit of fabric clinging to your skin.

It was a blur making it to the quarantine area— or rather your bedroom. You didn’t love having your biggest enemy in your safe haven, but you would have to make do.

“Feel any different?”

“You asked that three minutes ago, Rex.” You murmured softly, eyes closed as you laid amongst your soft blankets. You had taken a shower the moment you got back, something Robot recommended and something you definitely needed. Removing your clothes to relish under the hot water was pure bliss, you would have stayed under there for hours if you could. After which you dried and dressed in a simple shirt and shorts, baggy to combat the sudden suffocating sensation surrounding you.

You turned from lying on your back to your side, allowing your eyes to open and focus on the man across the room. He was seated on your vanity chair, dressed in a simple white tank and his super-suit pants. The man’s hair was done up in a messy bun, a few strands framing his face. You began to stare longer than you should have, only realizing the moment his eyebrow twitched up, clearly questioning your sudden interest on his face.

You breathed softly, “I don’t feel any different.. just, hot.”

“Hot?”

You gave a little nod, rolling onto your stomach as your face smushed into the blankets and pillows below you. “Hot.” You repeated softly, eyes closing for a moment. Hot, was an understatement. While your shower helped cool you down in the moment, it felt as if your temperature was slowly rising and rising— with no end in sight. It explained why you suddenly felt so suffocated; the fabric you wore clinging to your body as you began to sweat.

Along with this, you felt dizzy as if developing the worst super powered vertigo known to man. The only remedy was shutting your eyes tightly, even going as far as shoving your face into your bed to help.

“Really.. hot.” You murmured more to yourself rather than the man, but he heard regardless.

Rex couldn’t help the tinge of worry invading his body as he looked at you. He could hear the way you basically panted, as well as see your body rise and fall with every breath. He sucked in his own, rising to his feet and crossing the bedroom quickly.

“You’re not gonna be able to breathe like that, c’mon—“ he leaned upon your bed with a single hand whilst the other went for your arm, gently pushing you, however hissing the moment his palm made contact with your skin.

“Fuck, you’re boiling [Name].” Rex murmured, eyes casing down your front the moment you rested on your back. He immediately noticed the sweat presented on your skin, shining underneath your overhead light and trickling down your body. With each huff your chest was rising, hands clenching the shirt you wore as if to ground you.

“I’m.. starting to feel weird.” Your voice came out in a croak, as like it burned to speak; eyes blinking open to stare up at the man before you, which proved difficult given how you could barely focus.

Rex sucked in a breath, his hand gliding from your arm to instead maneuver towards your forehead. From the heat radiating against his palm it was clear you had a fever, terrible enough that it seemed to incapacitate you completely. Such a thought caused the man to worry, something he didn’t typically like doing but he couldn’t help it at this point.

“Are you in pain anywhere?”

You slowly shook your head, causing the man’s hand to glide lower, coming into contact with your cheek. The moment it did, you shivered, eyes shutting close and seemingly leaning into his touch. It felt cooling compared to the rest of your body, a funny thought given his entire power was exploding shit.

Still, it seemed like the remedy to your situation, causing you to basically sink into his touch; a sigh gliding through your nostrils.

This took Rex by surprise, eyes widening slowly at the display. You, the woman he was oh so sure hated him, was leaning into his touch? It truly must be winter in hell for such a thing to happen.

“[Name]..?” He called on hushed breath, throughly confused by the situation. You didn’t respond, at first; seemingly content with your cheek in his hand. But the moment Rex moved your eyes were flying open, reaching over to lock your fingers around his wrist.

“Don’t.. move. Please don’t move.”

You murmured softly, borderline whimpering as you turned to place the full weight of your head into his palm. Your fingers dragged down his wrist to his arm, coaxing him to stay just where you wanted— needed him to be. Your entire body was overheating at this point, your clothes feeling far too restricting as if you were ready to burst out the seams. You released a shuddering breath, shifting once more and allowing your lips to graze his skin, nose pressed up against his wrist in turn.

The moment his smell hit you, you were murmuring a soft swear; nails dragging against his skin as desperation began to fill your entirety.

Rex couldn’t do a thing but sit there and gape, attempting to stay composed despite what was unfolding before him. His fingers twitched as they glided close to you hair, feeling something else twitch as your lips traced his skin— fuck, what were you doing? The man wanted nothing more than to ask just that, tearing his hand away in the process.

But he couldn’t, not with the way those pretty eyes were fluttering at him, clearly so desperate for his touch. Rex’s tongue slipped out to glide across his bottom lip nervously, nearly convulsing as he watched your gaze fall to the simple action.

Everything was growing so hot around the two of you, as if the pheromones had seeped out completely and covered every inch of your room. Silence carried before your lips parted to speak a sweet,

“Rex..”

It took a moment for the man to reply with how his name tasted on your tongue. You had abandoned that usual hint of annoyance and frustration crafted specifically for him, instead choosing something so soft, and downright irresistible it was causing his mind to go wild.

His teeth dragged across his cheek, finally releasing a simple; “What is it? Do you.. want me to go get Robot?”

You couldn’t have shaken your head any faster, hand even tightening around his arm— as if truly scared his touch would leave. You brought your body closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him; eyes carrying down his form as soft huffs pushed through pouted lips.

“No..— please, please stay. I need you to stay, Rex.” A drawn out beg escaped you quickly, Rex sucking in air at your words. Stay? He had no choice but to. The two of you were quarantined after all.

But something told him that wasn’t what you were only entailing. Something, like how your gaze simply couldn’t focus on a single spot; trailing from his face down to his legs— lingering there for a moment before returning back to his features.

“Then wha—“

“I need,” You begun slowly, struggling to find the words as hurried breaths escaped. The feeling running through you was completely foreign, sensations, senses, all of it; cranked up completely to one hundred. Fear of the unknown pooled deep in your stomach, followed by something else entirely the longer you looked at the man before you.

Finally you seemed to find what you wanted, fingers dragging against his skin once more, it pricking with each touch.

“You. I need you, Rex. I need to feel you..”

You were lying. This was a trick to fuck with him right? There’s no way you, wanted him in that way. It was all some ploy to admit something he didn’t want to, right? It had to be..

Rex wanted to open his mouth to refuse you, brain screaming at him to push you away. Push her, push her, push her— it thundered in his head as if the only plausible answer to the situation.

But the moment a single please escaped those pretty lips, the only thought in Rex’s head was;

Fuck this.

The hand upon you gripped your cheek with purpose, the man leaning to snatch your lips in a heated kiss. The moment the two of you connected, a soft whine escaped right into his mouth— your free hand latching onto his body quickly. Your lips moved in such a perfect rhythm, igniting your already hot body to basically boil over. You couldn’t help how desperate your lips were getting, whimpering and whining; practically begging for more out of the man.

The two of you parted, Rex watching the way you attempted to chase his lips, eyelids coming to hang low over green eyes that took you in so intently.

“Rex, please..”

“I hear you.” His words broke through the fog slowly clouding your mind, you completely focused on him and only him. The way he breathed, stared, how he ever so slowly lifted himself to hover over your sweltering body; bringing himself to rest on his forearm whilst the other hand continued to hold your face.

“I got you mama, shit..” Rex dragged softly as he pressed another kiss to your lips, leading his own down to your chin, neck, before stamping kisses right against your collarbone. Your taste was a perfect swirl of salty and sweet, curtesy of your sweat and the body wash you had previously used. The man released your face to instead carry his hand downwards, soon reaching the edge of your shirt; breaching the clothing to spread his hand across your stomach.

Rex could nearly groan the moment his fingers clenched, delighted by the way his digits sunk into your plump flesh— hot against his hand and completely perfect despite what he claimed. His eyes took you in searching for something, anything that would tell him to stop— that you didn’t want this at all. But the man only received a pout, and eyes filled to the brim with want.

For him, and only him.

Such a look had him shuddering, leaning close and muttering a quick so desperate for me right upon your lips— such words causing you to keen and melt into him completely. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, never wishing to let go as you felt his comforting hand crossing from your warm stomach and up, the cool air gliding across your skin the more exposed it got.

You gasped as Rex’s fingers traced your breast for a moment, simply playing with you before allowing two of them to enclose a hardened nipple; stimulating the peak so perfectly that sparks were emitting between your thighs. You couldn’t help but lift your hips up, finding what you wanted — his thigh — and dragging yourself up and down slowly.

The stimulation caused you to pant into him, sounds overtaken the moment his tongue intruded your mouth; licking into the dark space with such interest. With a twirl of your two wet, appendages you were moaning softly, feeling the combined spit trickle down your chin the longer you kissed.

You were already dizzy before but with his mouth, fingers, and thigh; you could only describe your mind being a spiral with no end in sight.

As he pulled away you panted, grinding against his thigh like some pathetic dog in heat— clearly desperate for friction to ease the ache between your legs.

Rex took you in greedily, rising up to his haunches, continuing to tweak your breast whilst his other hand carried from your bed and to your body, dragging across your covered sex. Your shorts were soaked, basically ruined; arousal seeping through the fabric easily. He watched as you practically withered at his touch, not so secretly rising your hips to his hand once again.

With another drag of his hand you were whining, peeking up at the man;

“Rex.. don’t tease, please don’t tease me.”

You were palpable, shaking, wanting, needing— everything and anything Rex could have ever wanted. The last thing on his mind was teasing you again.

He was practically tearing your pants and panties off, tossing them to some corner you could worry about later. Your thighs parted, exposing the way a glossy, slick coated your aching cunt; clit swollen, begging for attention as your hole fluttered. Rex couldn’t help but drool, dipping his fingers to coat in your essence, watching the way you practically shook from the naked touch.

“Fuck.. you’re soaked.” Rex whispered, dragging a finger along before finding your little button, circling it carefully. He watched the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how your thighs twitched, slowly enclosing his hand— refusing to let him go where you needed him most.

Your eyes glossy, a film of pure lust covering the pretty gaze; such a look had the man basically huffing, feeling all inhibitions leave his body in a single trickle. Rex continued to circle your swollen clit, feeling the way you so desperately rose into his hand, he knew this was the most sensitive part of a woman, but god— the way you withered was otherworldly.

“Rex, Rex, Rex..” You were whining his name so pathetically, fingers tugging at your blankets as your hips swiveled in the direction of his finger. The ache inside of you only seemed to grow, the pressure building up in your stomach and threatening to spill over. You could feel the way globs of arousal basically pooled from within you, trickling down to your taint and surely staining the bedsheets.

“Fuck… why do you look so pretty like this?”

The question was spoke out loud, yet truthfully not for you to answer. Rex racked his brain on why exactly he waited so long to have you like this. He was such a dick, truly and utterly— to you, and to himself.

The man’s eyes flicked from your pretty pussy back to your even prettier features, gliding his fingers lower to prod at your weeping entrance; easily pushing two digits in to which your velvety walls basically sucked in.

He wasted no time in thrusting the appendages in and out, enjoying the way your moans pitched so perfectly; hitting every inch of his brain in the best symphony. He scissored and curled, brushing up against that spongy spot you; yourself, have never been able to reach with your own fingers.

And the moment Rex’s thumb rose, sweeping across your sensitive button; you were truly done for.

Your hand flew down to his wrist, gripping, refusing to let him go as rushed cries quickly turned into sharp bellows of his name the longer he ruined you with his fingers. It shouldn’t feel this damn good at all. Not simply because it was his fingers but also because it was Rex himself.

The idiot that always looked at you with such disdain, always treated you oddly, mocking you— the whole nine yards like some little bully. Yet here he was, staring at you so sweetly while easing that desperate ache that only he could solve. Only him.

You would slap yourself later. When your mind wasn’t so warped. For now, you wanted nothing more than to be ruined and built right back up by the man you claimed to hate.

Your nails scratched at his skin, thighs closing in around his arm as that pressure thundered deep in your stomach— ready to burst at any time. You couldn’t help the way tears pricked at your eyes, spilling over with each of your quick blinks.

In your daze you heard Rex coo, maybe whisper; soon feeling him move towards your side, face hovering close to your own whilst his fingers continued that perfect rhythm inside of you.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this,” Awe clung to his words, heavy lidded eyes dedicating each pleasure stricken feature to memory; refusing to let it go. “So fucking perfect like this.. I’m such a dick, fuck—“ Rex wondered if he was suddenly getting infected, given the way you so easily took over every sense of his. He felt, smelt, saw, and tasted just about every inch of your presence; a concoction that even the best bartender couldn’t even begin to replicate.

“—Mm close! Fuck.. Rex, please..!”

Your walls clung to his fingers, peak rising so quickly only to crash even faster. The tears spilled over, coating your cheeks whilst your arousal coated his fingers, and your bedsheets. You shook from the aftershocks, desperately trying to catch your breath; whining the moment you felt Rex remove his fingers.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but you moved much faster, reaching out to plant your hands onto his shoulders. You rose, pressing your lips to his own whilst pushing at his body; affectively getting him to lay onto his back whilst you crawled over his body.

Rex could nearly cum in his pants the moment you laid out amongst him, his hands immediately falling to your plush thighs, tugging them; eyes rolling back at how soft you felt against his skin. And the moment he realized you were dragging your hips, smearing your messy pussy across his covered bulge; the man pulled back to groan, shuddering breaths escaping his chest.

“Fuck, fuck— wait, don’t you need to, recover— [Name]?”

“Nnn.. no, no..”

He watched as you rose to sit in his lap, hips still bucking, still grinding and rolling like some machine that refused to turn off. You looked like a fucking goddess above him, hair a mess yet framing your features perfectly, eyes glossy, lips shining with your combined saliva; Rex wondered what he did he do to deserve such a display.

“Need more.. fuck I need it Rex, please!” With a particularly long drag of your hips you were shaking, hands pressed against his chest, crumpling the shirt he wore within your palms. It was like your body didn’t care you had finished just a second ago, still completely aching in desperation as if you were completely untouched.

Your sweet whines did something to Rex, the man swearing under his breath, the previous worry he held for you no longer present. Wasting no time, he allowed his hands to fall from your body to instead find the waistband of his pants, resting his feet onto the bed to shimmy his garments down to his thighs.

His length sprung from its confinements, tip flushed with pearly globs of white slipping from its slit. You brushed close, sweltering center dragging across it so perfectly the both of you could only groan.

Rex’s hands found your hips again, squeezing the flesh within his fingers as his own hips rose to buck into you. “C’mon mama, it’s all yours.. don’t tease.” His head tilted, eyes fluttering closed the moment you ground against him once again. His tip bumped against your swollen button, dragging to your fluttering hole; prodding there for a moment before slowly pushing past the ring of muscle.

The man downright shivered, sparks running down his spine the way your wet walls clung to his dick, shaping around it so perfectly he swore you were made just for him. You weren’t any better, nearly falling apart as you enveloped him completely— ass rested on his legs, seated so perfectly. The stretch should have burned, but you only felt pure bliss with every inch pushed into you. Filled to the brim, his dick basically throbbing inside you, veins brushing against your walls; hitting places you didn’t even know existed.

You didn’t wait to adjust, to allow air to even fully expand your lungs before you were lifting yourself until only the tip remained inside— dropping down in one full motion. The moan released you was pure sickeningly sweet honey, clutching the man so desperately as more hurried drops of your hips followed.

Rex clung to your hips for dear life, barely being able to keep himself together. The single thought of don’t come, don’t come, swirled inside his mind; proving more difficult the longer you rode him. His body shook with each heavy pant he released, nails digging into your plush skin as his eyes nearly met his skull.

“Jus… ha— just like that baby, fucking use me—“ His feet suddenly planted firmly upon your bed, meeting each of your ruts with his own thrusts, tip striking your g-spot so perfectly.

Stars invaded your vision, body sweltering, sweat trickling down every single part of your body— but you refused to stop, you couldn’t. You felt as if you could die without this. And they may have been true, with how you were clinging to the man like he was some kind of anchor.

You lowered yourself, quick breaths fanning across his exposed skin; whining the moment you felt his arms wrap tightly around your waist, feeling him drill into you without a care.

“Rex, o—oh god, fuck!” You shoved your face into his neck, sniffling and sobbing as that ache swelled. You weren’t even thinking properly nor making sense, incoherent words that sounded like some jumbled prayer of his name slipping off your tongue far too quickly.

Before you could even breathe the man was suddenly flipping your positions, hands going for your thighs and spreading you open— fucking into you so deeply, you could have sworn he was in your cervix at this point.

“So perfect.. fucking perfect, fuck, fuck..” His words came out in a drawn fashion, eyes glued to your body. He pushed your thighs, watching the way your stomach rolled up in response; Rex swearing he was getting hard all over again. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, ass rippling each time his hips made contact.

Far too quickly you were coming undone, coil snapping without warning leaving you a shaking mess that could only gasp and cry. Your slick escaped, coating his dick; creating a creamy ring around the base as he simply would not, stop, moving. Instead the man lowered, coming closer and sliding your legs to his shoulders.

Through shallow thrusts Rex spoke, “Been so fucking mean to you. You forgive me baby, huh?” All while planting the sweetest kisses against your skin, as if he wasn’t utterly wrecking you.

You could only whine, hands sliding to his back, dragging your nails against him as you shook your head far too fast— making yourself even more delirious then before.

But that wasn’t enough for the man, no, that wasn’t what he wanted, needed.

A hand came between the two of you, easily finding your messy clit and rubbing circles into the bud. You shook, overstimulation biting at your body to the point you were keening.

“Wanna hear you say it, pretty…” Rex spoke in-between sharp thrusts and shaky exhales. “—I was a fucking ass..asshole, and liar; every inch of you is perfect.. shit, you have me obsessed [Name].”

It was clear the man wasn’t thinking straight from how easily the confession swept from his lips, some type of metaphorical weight being lifted off his shoulders the moment it was uttered however. Rex took in the way you struggled to keep your eyes on him, and with how you were tossing back and forth between ecstasy he was sure you hadn’t heard a damn thing.

Still, the pace of both his fingers and hips quickened, moving much closer to kiss you, soft cooes of forgive me, being pushed into your mouth.

Your hands trailed to his hair, bun long forgotten as the strands peeked and slid between the gaps of your fingers. Rex swallowed your last bellow, your entire body jerking as you squirted, making a complete mess of him, yourself, and your bed.

He wasn’t too far behind, groaning into you as he drove himself deeper, gripping your skin as he flooded you with his come; adding to the mess the moment it began to trickle out.

Rex’s hips finally stilled, hand even moving away from your pretty cunt yet his lips remained on you, still kissing you so sloppily yet gingerly. Moments passed of this lip locking before he pulled away for air, forehead resting against your own as he greedily sucked it up.

You panted as well, that once unquenchable ache now very dull compared to before. You melted into the bed, sighing heavily as your hands dragged from his hair to his cheeks, collecting them in your palms.

“I forgive you.” You whispered, watching recollection cross his features, causing your lips to curl into a little grin. “But yeah, you’re a dick.”

Rex couldn’t help the little grin pulling his lips, “I know. But hey, I helped you get rid of that monster plant piss— just had to sweat it out.”

You groaned softly, pushing at his body to which the man laughed, refusing to break away.

“You ruin everything.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Off Limits: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagged: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @noxytopy @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Balance - Jack reveals his feelings for you but they come with complications.

You spend three glorious days in Jacks’s bed during his concussion leave. Three days of being the entire focus of his attention, of having his hands roam all over your body, his mouth chasing over every inch of your skin. He loves you with a fierceness that rivals any other man, with an insatiable appetite that leaves you aching in all the right ways.

The problem is that all good things must come to an end and that’s exactly what happens when you leave his house that day to prepare for your shift.

The bubble the two of you have created, it bursts and he goes back to being Doctor Abbot and you return to Doctor Doran.

When you run into him in the parking lot of the hospital you don’t know what to say, how to act. Eight hours ago you had this man’s cock buried inside you as you pulled his hair so hard you made him see stars, now he’s back to being the consummate professional. His expression impassive as he scrolls through his phone. He falls into step alongside you and the tension, it’s palpable as you walk side by side.

“This is weird.” He mutters, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

“I’m sorry, it’s me.” You say softly. “I don’t know how to do casual, it’s gonna take me a minute to figure things out-”

He stops, his hand slipping into yours, tugging you to him.

“Faye, this isn’t casual for me. I don’t just jump into bed with people, I don’t…” He sighs as his thumb traces over your knuckles. “I’m not good at this, being with someone but I want to be… It’s just going to require a little time and a little patience.”

“Of which I have both.” You smile, your fingertips trailing over his grizzled cheek and his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “You know if we stay like this, people are going to start talking.”

“Let them.” He whispers, kissing your mouth with a tenderness you’ve never felt before him. “I want everyone to know you’re off limits from here on out.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[pikapitou]

wip day of the week

@effervescentwolf tagged me. some wednesday. to post a wip! thank you wolf... I don't know if I'll get around to finishing this presumed deaddie thing bc it's weird to write an arc while the show is. co-currently writing that arc at the same time as you. but i wanna share the opening scene :) idk who's writing these days... @tallsinspace if u wanna share anything pls feel free. anyway without further ado.

Three days without contact is not that long. Buck tries to convince himself of that fact, but he had also tried to convince himself that two days wasn't that long; twenty-four hours; twelve. He checks his phone again. Eddie still hasn't read his last message, or the one before that, or the ten before that. His leg is bouncing so hard that Hen and Chim's solitaire game jitters on the table, Kings mixing with the Queens.

Hen sighs. "Buck," she says, and waits for him to glance up at her, "if something was going on, I'm sure someone would—"

He's shaking his head before she finishes. "I'm—" his voice rasps worse than he expected, and he swallows with a click. "I'm not his emergency contact anymore. When he started at his station, he—yeah."

Eddie had sounded so apologetic about it, even though it was probably stupid for Buck's name to be there for as long as it was after he moved. It's not like Buck can do anything to help Eddie from here.

And the other thing? Buck had thought, and didn't ask, and kept thinking about, and not asking.

There's a pause, and he just knows they're exchanging one of those sad, little looks everyone keeps giving each other whenever they think he's acting especially pathetic. He's glad he didn't see it; if he did he might scream.

"You could text his mom?" Chim offers, then very quickly adds in a way that means Hen just raised an eyebrow at him, "Not that I think anything's wrong."

Buck turns his phone over and over and over in his hands. He doesn't have her number. He'd asked for it, before Eddie left, and Eddie had gotten quiet in that bad way, told him nothing was going to happen, which he knew as a first responder was never a fact, so that just meant he didn't want Buck to have it. Buck hadn't pushed, because—he didn't know why. Because if that was what Eddie needed to do, then Buck was going to let him do it.

He could text Chris, but if he texted Chris is your dad okay? and Eddie was okay, just busy, or ignoring him, or lost his phone in the El Paso desert, then it would be—it would be a whole thing, and Eddie was handling it. Alone. Because Eddie handled everything alone.

His phone buzzes in his hands—startling him so bad that he drops it, clattering onto the table at full volume and full vibration and mixing the solitaire game beyond salvation.

"See," Hen says, poorly masking her own relief.

Buck fumbles for his phone and—stares. Then he answers at the same time that he untangles himself from the chair and heads for the railing of the station loft for the illusion of being out of earshot. "Chris," he says, almost all air, "hey—"

"Do you just"—there's a vitriol in Chris's voice that would have made Buck stumble if he were walking—"not care or something?"

Reflexively, Buck looks over his shoulder at the table; Hen and Chim not bothering to hide that they're watching. They make eye contact, and maybe any other time it would be comforting, but right now there's only one other person in the world he wishes was here for this conversation.

"I always care, Chris," Buck says, keeping his voice calm and careful as he starts down the stairs, thinking in the back of his mind about the bunkroom or maybe outside; if the alarm goes he'll have to be the man behind, no other option. "I care like crazy, but could you tell me what's wrong?"

On the other end Chris sucks in this sharp breath that has Buck bracing for another drop of acid—but nothing comes. All he hears is Chris's ragged breathing, each hitch making Buck's heart lurch in his chest.

"Chris?" he asks. "Hey, c'mon, can you talk to me?"

"Did," Chris starts, and the anger has drained so completely from his voice that he just sounds unbearably small, "did abuela not tell you?"

Buck didn't make it to the bunkroom. He didn't make it outside. He's stuck, exposed, in the middle of the firehouse as the Earth slides off its axis into the death spiral of a blackhole.

"Tell me what?" he asks.

[lillaydee]

I'm Right Here Part 2

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 1

Joel didn’t let go of you at all, a hand on you at all times. It might have been from the excitement of having you back, but you thought it was more likely that he knew you were having doubts about staying and was worried you’d take any opportunity to escape to wherever the first destination that was not Austin would be. He helped you with your luggage, shockingly only consisting of two suitcases, a box and a backpack. You didn’t buy much, didn’t accumulate much beyond a few books and gadgets you needed for your classes, never had, seeing as every unnecessary purchase you might make would have meant Eddie working extra hours. The idea that your devoted twin brother might work himself sick to indulge your whims terrified the living daylights out of you.

Joel placed your luggage on a trolley and pushed, but not before taking your hand and placing it around the crook of his elbow. “Don’t run away now,” he winked at you, a cheeky smile on his face.

The journey to his place was filled with his questions and your very short, snipy answers. “So, what happened to that dude Eddie said you were seeing?” What dude? “The one with the spiky hair?” Oh, we broke up.  “Why did you break up?” He graduated. Left for home. “What about that other one?” What other one? “The one with the unhealthy mother issues?” Uh, he had Mommy issues, Joel, what do you think happened? “Oh, speaking of Mommies, brunch at my parents’ next week when they get back, which, might end up as dinner as well, given how excited they are that you are back.” No, Joel, I’m not back. “Well, you’re in town,” he countered. “To me and everyone else who cares about you, you are back Daze. No use telling us otherwise.”

The weight on your heart lifted a little. As cheesy as his statement might have been it did make you feel less alone. He stopped at a drive-thru, asking you what you wanted for a quick dinner before bedtime. You shrugged, “Just some nuggets. I’ll just drink water. You have water, right?” you asked, remembering that Eddie was the one who always did the shopping, a complaint he would always hit you with every single time something ran out in that household.

“Hey, I did the shopping, okay? Had to. Your brother left me hanging,” he protested, before proceeding to order you some nuggets, a couple of burgers and fries for himself and extra fries on top of that. “I’m hungry,” he told you when you looked shocked at the amount of food he ordered, dumping all the bags on your lap, smirking a little when you dipped your hand inside one of the bags and took out a handful of fries. The two of you ate as soon as you got to his place, literally attacking the food as soon as he dropped your luggage in the threshold of the single storey house, sitting cross-legged on the saggy couch he and Eddie found on a sidewalk and spent 3 days cleaning to make it at least useable without cringing.

You literally finished your nuggets in three minutes flat, still hungry, subconsciously eyeing the fries he had poured out onto the flattened paper bag on the coffee table. Without missing a beat, Joel pushed the bag nearer to you and offered you a bite of his burger, which you simply bit into. The two of you finished the rest of the food together in comfortable silence, him taking two bites of a burger before offering you one, you feeding him fries in return. You were basically nodding off by the time he was gathering the paper bags and wrappers.

“Come on,” he said, offering you a hand, “I’ll take your bags to your room.”

You followed blindly, your backpack in your hand, following him to the room Eddie used to live in. Joel had cleaned it top to bottom, gotten you new sheets, even. He placed the suitcases at the foot of the bed, coming over to hug you goodnight. “I’m so happy you are here, Daze. Rest well. See you tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded into his neck, still refraining from breathing him in, willing yourself to not make that mistake. It would be too easy to fall for him. You were vulnerable. Lost. Alone. He was a familiar. He made you feel less alone. He was easy to love. He had been around you forever. You used to have a crush on him. But it would be a horrible mistake to fall for him. So, no. Do not cross that line.

You looked around the room, realizing that Eddie’s stuff were no longer there, not that he had many in the first place. You took the pictures of you and him that used to be on the night stand back to college with you when you were last here and told Joel to donate the rest of his belongings. And now, the room just felt cold. Like he was never there. You quickly took one of the pictures out of your back pack and placed it on the night stand, smiling a little at Eddie’s smiling face in it, brushing it with your fore finger.

You took a quick shower and changed into your PJs, realizing as you laid down that he went out and bought you new pillows and blanket too. You smiled at the realization – he really wanted you there, wanted you to be comfortable.

He wanted you to stay. As he had reiterated many, many, many times in the past two months.

The plan was simple. Stay for a couple of months while doing the books for Miller’s Constructions, maybe even take a few clients for tax season, apply for jobs and find a place of your own, wherever that may be. Joel made it clear, time and again that you were more than welcome to stay as long as you need, even going so far as refusing to take money from you, not that you would take that offer. You would pay, obviously, and utilities too. But staying there long term? Not the best idea.

Especially since he had somehow gotten better looking than he was a year ago. You really didn’t think that was possible.

He was a skinny guy, always had been. But construction work had put some muscles onto him. He filled out a little. He looked like a man. A manly man. He looked good. Extremely good. Too good.

And THAT, combined with how comfortable you were with him these past few hours, was NOT good.

You fell asleep tired from the jetlag and the general weariness travelling all day had brought on, dreading the coming day – the one year anniversary of your twin brother’s death, genuinely hoping that you wouldn’t fall apart.  

You woke up early, the sun barely out yet. You didn’t know what Joel had planned for the day. He told you that the two of you would be spending the day with Eddie. That was all. You got dressed and went out for a run, the house still quiet. You didn’t know what time Joel went to bed, but it was too early for him to wake up. He had taken the day off just so the two of you can spend the day together.

You didn’t really know how long you were out, but when you came back, he was in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of you, his face and hair still full of sleep. He appeared in the living room, spatula in hand, looking confused as fuck to see you come in.

“I thought you were still asleep,” he said, “What time did you leave?”

You shrugged, you didn’t really know. You didn’t look at the clock when you left. He gave you a cup of black coffee in response and watched as you poured some milk into the cup.

“Awww…. Look at you all grown up and drinking coffee…” he cooed, holding the spatula to his chest, a mock reminiscing look on his face.

“We’re the same age, you dork.”

“Hey… I am two whole months older than you missy,” he said, pointing the spatula at you, eyebrow raised in warning, pulling a chair out for you. “So please, respect your elder,” he winked at you before turning back to the bacon he had almost burnt.

You rolled your eyes at him as he served you your breakfast, waiting for him to sit with you before asking him what the plan was for the day.

“Lunch at his favourite Thai place, and after that, you’ll see.”

You squinted your eyes at him, not very happy with the secrecy.

“It’s nothing to be terrified about, we’re not going skydiving or anything. Just a few places he used to love and I thought we could bring him with us?” he asked, eyes pointedly looking at the small metal box he had placed on top of a bookshelf.

You had planned to bring the ceramic jar you had placed his remains in yourself, in secret, supposedly, fearing Joel might find the concept morbid. He had the same idea, apparently, so the two of you made plans to bring him into the Thai restaurant incognito, accepting that some other patrons might not like having urns sitting on the next table while they were enjoying their lunch. After an entire morning of planning, the two of you walked into the restaurant with Eddie sitting in a cake box, the kind with the clear top so he could join in on the lunch experience, Joel ordering Eddie’s favourites for the both of you.

He brought you to the petting zoo Eddie used to work at next, the two of you spending time with the animals, cleaning the enclosures in his memory. The kind lady who ran the place introduced you and Joel to Eddie, a lamb that Dottie, the sheep your brother used to spend time with had given birth to. The little creature sniffed your hand for a bit before literally jumping into your arms, Dottie staying close to you, nuzzling your hips with her head, chewing at your backpack, as if knowing that his remains were in there. “She knows you,” the lady said. “She loved your brother. When he died, it was as if she knew. She waited for him to come. Wouldn’t eat for a bit. It’s why we named this little fella after him.”

You stayed with Dottie and Eddie the lamb for a bit while waiting for Joel to come back from mucking the pony stalls, the sheep looking at you with adoration, eating oats off your hand while Eddie the lamb was suckling. You talked to her, telling her you had heard all about her, even showed her pictures Eddie had sent you of him and her, and that he talked about her a lot, conspiratorially whispering to her that she was his favourite, warning her not to let Lettie, the other sheep living there know.

When Joel finally came back, he played with Eddie for a bit, the little lamb jumping all over him as if they had been pals forever. You said goodbye to Dottie when it was time to go, the sheep nuzzling your hand with such affection your heart got heavy.

As you were leaving, Joel got the backpack from you and placed it on his shoulder, asking you if you were ready to make a move. He took a few steps back, accidentally bumping into a woman, who, in your opinion wasn’t watching where she was going, causing her to almost fall. The woman looked scandalized at the accidental bump, shrieking unnecessarily, her face morphing into anger, telling him to watch where he was going. Her anger quickly dissipated, morphing into a giddy smile when she saw him properly, quickly telling him she was at fault too when he apologized, brushing her hair off her face, waving his apologies off.

Your heart stopped. Joel was all over this woman, profusely apologizing to her, checking her body for injuries, and she in return, found reason to touch him all over, rubbing his arm, placing her hand on his chest, a flirtatious smile on her face.

Stop. Why were you feeling this way? He’s not your boyfriend. Get over yourself already. He missed his best friend. That’s the only reason he was being so nice to you. You’re not on a date, you’re here to commemorate your twin brother. His best friend. Whom he missed a lot. That was all.

The woman introduced herself to Joel as Jen, she went to your high school. apparently, a year younger than you and Joel. She quickly remarked how their names go together. Joel and Jen, she simpered, airily laughing at her own joke, batting her eyelashes at him. Joel asked her if she was really okay, and she waved her hand dismissively, telling him she was more than okay.

“Although, I don’t know how I might feel tonight,” she cooed, “Why don’t I give you my number and you can call and check on me?”

Joel hesitated, the woman immediately seeing it. “Or not,” she recouped. “It was a silly joke,” she said, her eyes suddenly noticing your presence, eyeing you up and down.

“Uh, no, sure, give me your number,” Joel said, patting his pockets for his phone. Why, you weren’t exactly sure. It was obvious where his phone was. You could see it in his front left pocket. He patted the pocket twice without taking the phone out, and Jen seemingly noticed, her eager face losing it’s excitement a smidge. “It’s in your left pocket,” she said, eyes darting at you once more.

He looked dumbfounded for a while, before finally taking the phone out. His thumb fumbled on the keypads for a bit, taking his time to find the contacts. She was starting to look flustered, her eyes kept finding you, turning a bit dark every time they did, before reminding him her name when he eventually found the ‘add contact’ feature, hesitating to type her name in.

“Ouch!” he yelled out, dropping the phone. “She bit me!”

Dottie the sheep had taken a mouthful of his right ass cheek and clamped down, letting go as soon as he cried out loud.

“Shit, you okay?” you asked, “Dottie, bad girl!” you chastised the sheep, who was looking at you with innocence.

“Did she rip my jeans?” he asked you, turning around to let you see.

You didn’t have the time to look as you were suddenly headbutted into him, the man turning and catching you just in time as you yelped in surprise, both of you turning to see an innocent looking Dottie still staring at you, her doe eyes glinting.

“Oh dear,” Jen fussed, physically manhandling Joel to turn around to have a look at his ass, the man quickly taking a step back, placing his hand on your back and picking his phone off the ground, telling her the two of you should get going. “Oh, okay,” she mumbled, disappointment evident across her features.

Joel practically shoved you out of there, walking so fast you literally had to jog just to stop him from running into you. “You didn’t take her number,” you finally blurted out. You didn’t know why you said that. Maybe to state the obvious, or to hide the giddy smile you knew was threatening to make itself known at his hesitance. Or maybe it was to make sure he knew that you wouldn’t have a problem with him dating, despite the ice cold bucket of water thrown at you every time you even thought of that possibility.

“Not interested,” he said, shoving you further along.

“She’s hot,” you pushed, trying to make yourself feel better. This coldness that was seeping up your spine into your jaws was not going away. You needed a way to get rid of it. Maybe if you kept acting like you didn’t have any interest in him whatsoever it might actually happen. Power of the mind, all that.

“She’s not…” he started, almost scoffing, but stopped himself and slowed down. “She’s not.”

“Oh my God, are you blind? She’s totally hot.”

He actually scoffed. “And you know what I like because…?”

“Seen your girlfriends in school, remember?”

He scoffed. “What the fuck did I know back then? I was convinced I was head over heels in love with them all. Turned out, I equated making out to love,” he joked, holding the door of his truck open for you. “Plus, they were mean to you. So, nope. Not gonna spend my life with someone who treats you badly,” he said, turning around to reverse.

The conversation somehow changed to high school and the things you couldn’t believe you got away with, all the way to the sandwich shop, where he told you to stay in the truck. “Just a small sandwich for me, Joel!” you yelled after him, “I’m still full from lunch!” He mock saluted you and came back out with bags of food, driving to Eddie’s favourite park that he used to frequent to feed the ducks.

The two of you were seated on a park bench, sandwiches on your laps, Eddie between the two of you. Joel was telling Eddie everything that happened between the time you landed up ‘til then, telling him you hadn’t changed a bit. Your head snapped towards him when he said that, and Joel smirked cheekily at you, lifting bending down to whisper something to Eddie, giggling as if Eddie had said something funny back. He straightened up and offered you a half of the sandwich he had gotten himself, telling you he had another, defensively telling you he’s a man, of course he eats a lot, when you gave him a judgmental look at the amount of food he had gotten himself.

The two of you ate and joked about Eddie, to the point of laughing so hard you fell off the bench. Joel had to take a few minutes to compose himself before he could get up to help you, the laughter leaving the two of you weakened, basically becoming teenagers again, laughing like there was not a worry in the world.

He finally got up and offered you a hand, pulling a giggling you up, bursting back into uncontrollable laughter so hard you had to hold on to each other to prevent from falling again.

“Oh. My. God. Daisy? Joel?”

You turned around to see one of your old friends Lucy, dragging the man you immediately recognized as her high school boyfriend Dave towards you, her pregnant belly clear as day.

“Luce? You’re pregnant? You guys are having a baby?” you squealed, earning yourself an excited scream from her, hugging each other so tightly you almost toppled over again as Dave and Joel greeted each other. She went to hug Joel next, as Dave hugged you, and the two looked as if they couldn’t contain their excitement.

“So, tell us! Are the two of you FINALLY together?”

Huh?

Joel looked as if all the blood had been drained out of his face, before laughing himself silly. “God NO! She’s like a sister, eww!”

A piece of your heart broke away when you heard him say that, but you kept your composure and laughed along with him, playfully smacking Lucy on the arm for even suggesting something that scandalous.

“Oh,” Dave said, his face falling. “I always thought…” but stopped himself, eyes on Joel. “Anyway, it’s good we ran into the two of you. Ran into Will and the boys earlier, we’re meeting tomorrow at Hank’s. A spontaneous mini reunion? What do you say? Around 7? Play some darts, eat questionable, greasy food, have some drinks… it’ll be fun! What do you say?”

Joel looked at you, pouting his lips in contemplation, eye brows raised as if asking you if you would like that. You cocked your head to the side, giving him a little shrug. “Okay, we’ll be there!” he said. Lucy shrieked, taking her phone out to get your number.

“So, if you guys are not together,” she said as she keyed in her number in your phone, “What are you guys doing here?”

You pointed at the two urns on the bench. Her and Dave’s faces fell. “Eddie?” Dave asked. You nodded, a sad smile on your face. “God, I’m so sorry Daze. We heard but couldn’t get away then. Has it been a year?”

“You know, when I saw you two just then, for a split second, I actually thought Eddie was gonna jump out of the bushes or something. You three came as a set. I completely forgot. I’m so sorry Daze. You must miss him a lot,” Lucy said, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You could only nod, your insides suddenly overwhelmed with a sudden wave of sadness you couldn’t control.

Joel wrapped his arm around you, kissing you on the temple, “You okay?” he whispered. You could only nod appreciatively, wiping the errant tear that was starting to fall out of your eye.

“So,” Lucy said, gently pulling your arm, getting away from the men. “How are you, what are you doing now?”

“I just graduated,” you told her, “Looking for a job, but in the meantime I’m staying with Joel, doing the books for his family’s business.”

She nodded, looking contemplative. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow? We’ll have a proper catch up then, yeah?” She hugged you, promising she will text you before the meet up, hugging Joel goodbye for now.

You and Joel stayed at the park all the way ‘til sundown, much of it in comfortable silence, each of you holding Eddie in your laps, imagining him there with you. When the sun began disappearing in the horizon, Joel stood up and offered you a hand. Come on, he said, one final thing to do to commemorate today.

He drove to Eddie’s favourite Taco truck, asking you what you wanted for dinner.

“Oh my God Joel, I have eaten three full meals today. I can’t possibly eat anything more! I’m gonna barf!” you told him, eyes wide in wonder at the thought that he wanted you to eat. Again. He laughed, going to get himself some tacos, coming back to the truck with two large bags full of food. You could only shake your head, seriously wondering where he was planning to put all that food.

You came out from your shower when you got home to the living room transformed into a cinema area. He had taken all the blankets and pillows from the entire house and laid them all in front of the TV, the food he bought laid out, the urns sitting pretty between the spots for you and him. You immediately laid on one of the pillows, getting yourself all cosy to watch The Lord of the Rings, Eddie’s favourite movies, while Joel got the food out, sitting cross legged in front of his wall of pillows, pressing play.

Shit. The tacos did smell mouth wateringly good. But no. You’re full. And you told him not to get you anything. You really shouldn’t eat from his plate like that. That’s just rude. Right? So, no. Watch the fucking movie. Don’t think about the food. The food that’s within your grasp. Just there, past his crossed legs.

Shit. Is that loaded nachos? Fuck…

The next thing you knew, your arm had acted completely on their own volition, sneaking past his crossed legs and reaching in for a nacho. He didn’t notice, his eyes focused on the spectacular fireworks on Bilbo’s eleventy-oneth birthday. You chewed quietly, your fingers sneaking forward again to get a second fill. You managed a handful this time, sucking the cheese off your fingers before contemplating if you should try a third attempt at stealing his food. The food you vehemently told him you didn’t want. The food you made fun of him for.

But before you could decide, he quietly slid the nacho box towards you, two hard shelled tacos included. He winked at you, pulling your sticky hand to sit up, shuffling backwards so he could sit directly next to you.

You didn’t know why, but you suddenly felt shy. As if you were doing something wrong. Out of character. He noticed, quickly taking Eddie’s urns and placing them further to the front between the two of you, nodding towards your food and asking you to eat.

By the time the fellowship got to the bridge of Khazad-dûm, the two of you were laying on your backs, full and cosy, your eyes drooping from contentment. But when the scene with Gandalf and the Balrog happened, you couldn’t help yourself. You started crying. It was Eddie’s favourite scene, and he always held you as you cried from the sadness of it all. But realizing he was no longer here to do that…

Joel turned to look at you, moving Eddie’s urns out of the way, placing him on the coffee table. He opened his arm towards you, patting his shoulder, inviting you in, his own eyes glossy with unshed tears.

You knew you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But you went anyway, shuffling over, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his lips immediately making contact with the top of your head. Your heartbeat steadied, your sadness dissipating slightly. He wrapped his arm around you, fingers absent mindedly tracing shapes on your arm, his heartbeats steady under his ribcage, calming you.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep. But when you woke, you were still sleeping in Joel’s arms. You shot up, waking him, his eyes still hazy from sleep, smiling lazily at you.

“Come back to sleep, it’s still early,” he cooed, pulling you back down to his very, very sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around you, his leg hugging one of your own. You immediately felt comforted. If you could name the places on earth that could give you a peace of mind, surely this, here, in his arms, would be in the top five, second only to being hugged and comforted by Eddie. Joel rubbed his palm up and down your back, sighing contentedly, kissing the top of your head, and you couldn’t help but take a deep breath of his chest in, almost swooning at his masculine morning musk.

Oh, fuck. This was a mistake.

You were sitting with Lucy and a lady you just met, Olivia, the girlfriend of one of your classmates Will, who happened to be Joel’s first cousin. She seemed nice, the two of you keeping Lucy company by not drinking, only a lemonade for you and a diet Coke for Liv while Lucy sulked with her water.

She was due in four months. She lived in Boston now, her family had a business there. Both her and Dave worked for the family business, coming home to visit Dave’s parents who still lived in Austin. Joel, Dave, Will and the guys were playing darts at the other end of the establishment, the girls from the class googly eyed over how good looking Joel was these days.

You listened as the ladies from the next table questioned whether or not he and you were an item now, but someone quickly said surely not – Joel always said you were like a sister to him. Surely that’s incestuous, to some level? Lucy took your hand in hers, asking you again if you were sure there was nothing going on between you and Joel?

“Of course not, like he said, the man is like a brother to me.”

Lucy and Liv looked at you with such confusion in their eyes you couldn’t help but laugh. “Guys, really, we’re just friends. I would know if we were together, surely?”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I ask him out? For old time’s sake?” a familiar voice from the next table chimed in. It was Suzie, one of his exes, looking at you incredulously. You shrugged. “He’s a free agent. Go for it,” you said, trying to be as nonchalant as you could despite the huge lump that had suddenly blocked the airway in your throat.

“Daze? Daisy? Is that you?” a man’s voice made you look.

“Oh my God, Eric?” you got up and gave him a big hug, the man lifting you up and twirling you around as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Fucking hell, you look amazing! Are you back for good? Tell me you’re back for good,” he exclaimed, giving you smooches all over your face.

“Hey,” Joel’s voice came in, his eyes eyeing Eric.

“Oh God, Joel? Joel Miller? So good to see you again!” Eric said, offering him a hand, which Joel took, giving him a much too firm handshake. “It’s me, Eric, you remember? You used to chaperone our dates!” Eric reminded him, taking you into his side by the shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. “We could never even sneak a kiss with this guy watching us like a hawk from across the room!” he joked, asking you if he could get you a drink. “You’re not going anywhere tonight Daze. We have a lot of catching up to do!”

You nodded, excited to see Eric again. He was your first official boyfriend. Your first kiss. You had often wondered what he’d been up to these days. He went to MIT, if you were not mistaken. Catching up with him sounded like a great time.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired. We should leave soon,” Joel said, looking sorry.

“Oh,” you said, “Okay, another time?” you asked Eric, taking your phone out to get his number.

“Oh, I can drive her home. Unless… are you guys together now?” Eric asked, a sly smile on his face.

You couldn’t help but laughed uncomfortably. What was up with everyone asking if you and Joel were together? Your eyes met Joel’s, who had an odd expression on his face, before answering no. No, the two of you were not together.

“You okay with Eric driving you home?” he asked you, his expression still unreadable.

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” you said, not wanting to hurt his feelings, although you couldn’t really think why he would be hurt by that.

“No, of course not,” he said, “I’m gonna play another round and then I’ll leave. You have your keys right?”

You nodded. Eric excitedly pulling you to the bar for a drink, thanking Joel as he did.

Joel stood rooted to the spot for a full minute, eyes on you and Eric before finally retreating to the dart board again, taking his beer with him. He got distracted as he played with Dave and Will, eyes swivelling towards the bar where you and Eric looked to be having a merry old time catching up, Eric’s hand on your knees.

When you and Eric laughed so hard your heads banged together, Eric immediately kissed the spot better, rubbing your head, holding your face to his chest as you laughed uncontrollably through the pain, Joel put his beer down.

“I’m calling it a night guys, early morning tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” Will protested.

“Yeah. last minute job,” he mumbled, turning around to leave. He walked head on into a familiar looking woman. “Sorry,” he quickly said.

“Oh my God. Twice in two days. You owe me a drink now, Joel, right?”

Joel took a good look at the woman he bumped into. “Jen?”

“Uhuh, you know, you never took my number. One drink. What do you say? You did bump into me twice.”

Joel looked at the bar, where you and Eric seemed to be deep in conversation, your hand on his shoulder.

“Sure. One drink.”

Part 3

[tragedybunny]

I Should Tell You - Chapter 4

༺Summary༻

In a fit of guilt, Astarion tries to confess his deception to you. At the last moment, he loses his nerve and ends your relationship with another lie. He's resigned himself to having lost his chance with you forever when once again everything changes. With the two of you out on your own, will he be able to take a chance and tell you everything, and will you forgive him when he does?

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Female Reader

༺Warnings༻ Sexual references

༺Word Count༻ 2348

༺A/N༻ Weeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllll it's finally back! After an incredibly long hiatus. And to thank for that you have my new partner in this endeavor @icybluepenguin who co-wrote this chapter with me. I'm sorry for no tag list but it is just a pain to keep up with.

Read on AO3

Astarion made good on his promise to say his farewells. If he lingered a little longer than he insisted he would or if his eyes looked wet when he passed you upstairs, no one said anything. 

Your hand hovered over a jar which had lost its label. Gale had loaned you a bag of holding for all the books and other bits that wouldn't travel well. He would keep them at Waterdeep until you returned. The jar went in the bag. You had left your mother's house with practically nothing. All the mess strewn about here you had earned. It was yours in a way nothing else had been. 

But you couldn't take it all to the Underdark, could you? Even if it was strangely wrenching your heart to pick what to take. 

Seven thousand spawn waiting in the Underdark. And one accompanying you down there. You had been sincere - the Underdark had been an adventure like nothing you could imagine and seeing it again with more freedom to explore would be an incredible opportunity. 

But being alone with Astarion… it was so easy with him, the way it hadn't been with Halsin. There had been plenty of kindness, of patience – of incredible sex only a wood elf could provide too – but only Astarion made you feel entirely yourself. 

You gripped a worn leather bracer, one you'd long since lost the pair to. You could do this, you could avoid any slips of feelings. All you had to do was just… be friends. 

Easy, right? 

Shoving the bracer in the bag, you turned to the pile of books. Some were obvious. That romance wasn't going to help you in this situation, even if you did want to see how it ends. Into the bag. 

The book of wizard spells Gale had given you, that would come. When your hand brushed the cover, there was a silent hum of approval from your patron. She’d always liked Gale. 

She’d liked Halsin as well, the very embodiment of virile nature. But Astarion had been a thorn in her side. “A life for a family line.” That had been the deal - and a vampire spawn was useless there. The subtle background thrum of her happiness while you wrapped yourself around the ache in your chest that night was impossible to forget. 

Why couldn't it have been easy with Halsin?  What had gone wrong – what had you done wrong? You shoved that thought down as far as you shoved another book into the bottomless bag. 

The sun was setting as you took your belongings downstairs for one last meal at the Elfsong, and maybe the last hot meal you would see for a while. Securing a table in a quieter area, with a pint of the finest Baldurian ale, your order of fried fish and a warm soup was brought over by Alan himself.

“One last meal for our resident hero. And not just of the city – demands for rooms have certainly improved with the gossip about your residence here.” Alan offered his hand and you clasped it with goodwill and warmth. 

“You were a great ally to us, it’s only fair you’re repaid.” The growling of your stomach almost drowned out your words, and your cheeks flushed a slight red. Packing under Astarion's deadline had distracted you from eating all day. 

Alan was gracious enough to not remark on your distress but retreated with a friendly wave. “I’ll leave you to your meal then.” 

Embarrassment stinging your cheeks, you dug into your fish. 

It was delightfully salty and crisp, the inside melting in your mouth. Nothing else mattered but the perfect bite in your mouth. 

“Ah there you are, darling,” a distinctive voice drawled from right behind you, and you jumped a little. 

It seemed Astarion was still able to sneak up on you whenever he wanted. Some things never changed, and that was a bit of comfort to you. “Come to join me for a bite?” You turned toward him with a smile. 

“Now, now, don’t be a tease dear.” He returned your smile with a sharp one of his own, giving your stomach a little flutter that had nothing to do with hunger this time, and sat down across from you. “Although you do look good enough to eat.”

Falling back into a flirty exchange was so easy. Nothing to it at all, with him. And the way his eyes looked in the lamplight –

There was another retort right at the tip of your tongue… but you stopped. Maybe it was too easy. Astarion hid behind flirtation. He used it as a shield. And if you played along, would he see that it was actually a game? Or would he assume you were looking for a new bedmate, someone to distract from the heartbreak? 

After all, you weren't sure if it was just a game yourself. You were carefully not thinking about Halsin, not thinking about how it might have been you –

You looked down at your soup with a shy, mumbled, “Thanks,” instead. 

An unpleasant silence fell between you before Astarion cleared his throat. “I see that you’re all packed, yes? No last minute change of heart?” 

“Not on your unlife Astarion. This is going to be an amazing adventure.” 

As cheerful as you tried to be, the moment seemed to have fizzled. You picked at your food. You did have doubts, but not the ones he thought. The danger didn't bother you, not after taking down a Netherbrain. But you did feel… wistful to be leaving the city, this place that had been your home but also your prison. Part of you wanted to explore it with new eyes but just as much of you wanted to be far away from it. The conflicting swirl of grief and excitement was hard to ignore.

“So, what is the route you’ve got to get to the others?” Some awkward moments were to be expected, right? It was all part of rebuilding your friendship – no need for it to sour the whole night. 

“Well…” Astarion was oddly hesitant. “There wasn’t much of a safe route for an army of spawn through the city. But there are some tunnels under Szarr manor.”

You wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the thought of returning to that accursed place. It had felt good to bring an end to the sadistic vampire lord and know that he would never hurt Astarion or any others again. It made sense that a manor passed down through a lineage of vampires would have access to the Underdark. 

“Hopefully there aren’t any more surprise house guests lingering. We just get in, and go right down.” As much as your skin crawled at the idea of Szarr Manor, Astarion was the one who had been tortured there, for two hundred years. If there had been any other option, he would have taken it, even if it meant walking through fire. 

Astarion swallowed hard. “Right, just as simple as that.”

Without thinking, you reached a hand across the table to where his rested, and wrapped his pale fingers in yours, giving them a soft squeeze. “It won’t take long, we’ll be through it in moments.” 

He squeezed back, a moment of acknowledgement before withdrawing his hand and pushing the subject away. “Then you best eat up, don’t want to dawdle until the sun rises, my sweet.” 

The rest of the meal passed with much lighter conversation; idle gossip and Astarion’s blade-sharp judgement on everyone in the Elfsong that night. Finished, you stood from your chair. 

You took a last look around at the place that had been home for a good month. Perhaps the only place that had ever begun to feel like home. You were nothing like the girl who had fled Baldur’s Gate months ago. You weren't even still the woman who had arrived back here, not after the Steel Watch and Cazador and Gortash and the Netherbrain. And more. 

Adventure called to you. Seeing the world so long denied to you, flexing your magical powers with confidence. 

But so did a home. Having a place to return to, to hold your memories and your safety at night. People who wanted you around, stability and comfort. 

And Astarion. 

“I suppose it’s time,” you said, grabbing your pack. There was only one way to have Astarion and you were going to take it, even if it made your heart crack. “Lead the way.” 

Astarion flashed you a devilish grin that made your stomach quiver. “Oh, does that mean I’m the leader now?” 

The lamplight really did wonderful things for his eyes as he smiled. And that lock of hair, it looked so soft, he must have washed it earlier –

You covered your distraction with a hasty giggle. “I don’t know, can you make sure we don’t wander into our untimely end?” 

Astarion looked dramatically thoughtful. “Ah, perhaps a co-leadership situation is in order.” Dropping into an exaggerated bow, he gestured to the door. “I’ll still be your guide to the tunnels. Right this way, my lady.” 

The streets of the Gate were never silent, even in the dark. All around you, life in the city went on as you followed Astarion from the Elfsong. 

His steps were swift and sure, the echoes of a thousand times taking this path in his posture. His shoulders hunched, then straightened, then hunched around his ears again. He looked straight ahead, not glancing at you  or the nightlife of the city. How many times had he lured someone down this road, knowing death awaited them? Only it hadn't. Cazador had kept them, starving and caged. You remembered the horror as he realized how Cazador had tricked them, the guilt that he tried to bury in a dash for power, the tears that streaked his face as he stabbed his master over and over. 

If anyone deserved this second chance, it was him. 

“You're awfully quiet.” 

“Just… looking at the stars,” you said. They were brilliant tonight. Well, as brilliant as they got in the city. Summer was winding down and the evening was clear with just a touch of chill - leaving the stars shining in a cloudless sky. 

Astarion’s ruby eyes followed yours to the sky. “I guess I'm not used to looking up enough to notice them.” 

“Well, now you get to. You can go anywhere and see the stars.”

Astarion kept his gaze to the sky while his eyes became almost luminescent in their softness. Then he bent his head, staring at the pavement with a hard expression. “That is, once I’ve checked in on my dear siblings.” 

The two of you quietly entered the lower city passage and before you knew it, the manor proper was looming before you, silent as a tomb. Beside you, Astarion froze, looking ahead with a mixture of fascination and dread. 

“Right, well. Here we are.” His voice shook so subtly that anyone else may not have been able to catch it. 

Reaching up, you placed your hand on his shoulder, reassuring with a gentle touch. “I’m with you. We're doing this together.” 

With a shrug that sent a stinging through your heart, Astarion removed your hand from where it had rested. “I’m fine,” he said, words clipped before starting towards the door. 

Too far…

There wasn’t any point in trying to walk it back. Astarion was already getting ahead of you. There was still the possibility, however slim, that something was inside. 

You hurried to catch up with him, hurt and yearning lodged in your throat. 

The House of Szarr was unchanged since you’d last passed through the doors – though now the silence felt desolate instead of eerie. The servants must have wandered off or become food for the spawn; none of them haunted the halls any longer. Everything else remained untouched: paintings, tapestries, furnishings. The trappings that begged you to praise the greatness of the Vampire Lord who resided here. 

Astarion's back was stiff and his shoulders perfectly straight. He clenched his jaw, looking ahead with determination. His bravery shone despite his brittle posture as you walked deeper into his nightmares. 

Your fingers twitched with the urge to take his hand, to remind him that you had beaten this place together once and you wouldn’t let anything harm him now. But his earlier reaction kept your hand at your side as you hurried by the empty kennels. 

Not far past them was a smashed panel in the wall, timbers and plaster littering the floor. You hadn't done this damage, as much as you had fantasized about tearing this place down beam by beam. The freed spawn must have done it. 

Astarion hadn't said a word since you'd entered the palace. He had stalked through the halls with a stony look on his face, not stopping along the way or even glancing at you. You didn't dare make a sound, lest it ruin his fragile armor. Get in and get out, you thought. Everything else could wait. 

Through the broken wall was a narrow wooden staircase. You cast a mage light to help with the oppressive dark as you descended, worried that you would put a foot through the uneven boards. Walls that had started as smooth plaster gave way to cut stone and then to natural curves. The air grew more and more stale and musty as you went, taking on that distinct aged and chill quality of deep caves.

Astarion's posture softened the farther you got from the palace. There was still tension that you thought wouldn't leave until he'd dealt with his siblings. But it was good to see some ease return to his stride. 

You heard the echoing noise of a small stream of water just as you spied the first cluster of tiny luminescent mushrooms ahead.  

Before you, the passage widened and the Underdark sprawled out to welcome you. The alluring, yet deadly beauty beckoned to you and slowly a smile crept across your face. If you didn’t have Astarion or Halsin at least you had these wonders to bask in.  

[nutsack90]

tgck tarot cards :3

i might make more mha tarot cards idk... i kinda sacrificed quality for the sake of them matching

[murderandcoffee]

*buddy aurinko voice* found family? no, darling, this is a made family. I superglued these chucklefucks together kicking and screaming.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[sentimentalslut]

people talk about how the justice system is broken in general (it is) but nobody talks about how stupid the innane bureaucracy component is

[whysamwhy123]

Re-watching the one time Ricky and Christian teamed and lamenting about What Could Have Been.

[jacksintention]

.

[enterstellars]

and with that i do believe that my run with interstellar in imax has come to an end.

[genekies]

screaming, tearing my hair out, sobbing face down on my bed

[starpens]

CRASH COURSE ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !

asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?

caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.

he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.

he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.

because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?

it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.

thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—

“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.

knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”

“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”

you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.

he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—

“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”

“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”

“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.

“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”

“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—

“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

caleb immediately chokes.

a lesson on what not to do.

the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.

slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”

“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”

“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”

“y-yeah…”

“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”

“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.

however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”

he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”

“w-what?”

you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.

“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”

you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of sweat from the stifling air in the room.

“use your words, pipsqueak.”

“y-yeah, i get it.”

his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”

caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.

“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”

“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.

caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.

the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.

his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.

caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”

backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.

“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”

your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.

you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.

“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.

“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”

caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”

“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”

“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”

“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”

his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.

“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”

“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.

the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an inexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.

it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.

“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”

you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.

it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.

too deep.

the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.

“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”

you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.

he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?

he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asking him am i doing it right, ge?

his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.

and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.

he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”

“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

“o-oh.”

the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”

for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.

he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.

“teach me the rest, ge?”

the rest.

caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.

“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.

“c-caleb.”

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”

his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”

“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”

“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”

you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”

and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.

the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.

“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”

“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, gege.”

“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”

he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.

“c-caleb!”

you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.

“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”

he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.

you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”

“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.

“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”

caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”

what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.

“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.

caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.

he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.

those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.

seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.

“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”

that’s all it takes.

one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.

you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”

“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”

you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”

“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”

your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.

caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”

you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.

“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”

[exeggcute]

none of this is new info, but you know I have the "loves to write lists and compile links" disposition, so I thought it might be helpful to share some of the tips I've seen about how to make sure you're sharing legitimate palestinian evacuation fundraisers and bundle all those tips into a single handy reference post.

this is a spreadsheet of legitimate ("vetted") fundraisers on tumblr.

this post explains how the people who maintain this spreadsheet confirm the legitimacy of each fundraiser they add.

this podcast episode ("yousef and the fourth move") explains why evacuation fundraisers are often organized by people who don't live in gaza and/or who may not be immediate relatives of the people trying to evacuate. it's part three of a series about a man named yousef and his family; parts one and two aren't required listening for part three to make sense, but if you have a few hours to spare then I wholeheartedly recommend listening to all of them.

this is the process that I personally have been using to check whether a particular fundraiser has been vetted:

spreadsheet method

open the vetted fundraisers spreadsheet.

inside this spreadsheet, open the "find..." menu. on a windows computer, this shortcut is ctrl+F. on a mac, this shortcut is cmd+F. on a mobile device, click the three dots menu in the upper right corner of your screen, then select Find and replace.

search for the last name of the person or family in the fundraiser. you may get several results because last names obviously aren't unique; keep hitting "next" until you've looked at all the results.

if you find an entry in the spreadsheet that has the exact same name and whose gofundme link leads to the same fundraiser associated with the blog, it's legitimate. if you don't find an entry in the spreadsheet that matches the blog's fundraiser, that does not mean it's a scam. try the next method below!

tumblr search method

copy the username of the tumblr who originally posted the fundraiser and/or sent you a message asking you to boost the fundraiser. (for example, username123)

paste this username into tumblr's search bar.

for best results, click the All types drop-down menu, then select Text. since the search page is often dominated by asks sent by username123 (which people then answer and tag with their username), this helps narrow things down a bit.

look to see if any people who are not username123 have made posts confirming that username123 is legitimate. this includes people who've reblogged fundraisers and added notes, people who've compiled masterlists, and people sharing hyperlinks to other posts confirming a fundraiser's legitimacy. if the message seems to be "yep, looks legit," then it's safe to assume it's legit.

this is not a comprehensive list, but here are some of the usernames I've seen associated with "yep, looks legit"-type posts and who I've come to trust by association. (disclaimers: I am not mutuals with any of the users, and not all of them do the vetting firsthand, but the ones who don't vet posts themselves still seem to be careful about what they share and therefore are a good lead to follow. also, don't bug these people to vet fundraisers for you unless they've specifically indicated that they're open to that.)

90-ghost

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

appsa

northgazaupdates

retvolution

communistchilchuck

neptunerings

a-shade-of-blue

shimamitsu

neither of these methods yielded anything definitive; what now?

it may just be too early to tell. unless a trusted source has shared overwhelming evidence that a particular fundraiser is a scam (which seems to be a very very rare occurrence), the best thing you can do is ignore it. don't report their blog as spam, because there's a good chance it's a legitimate fundraiser who just hasn't been vetted yet.