#you'll never get a straight answer as to why out of us

[archivesctrccio]

she drives me crazy. chapter 2.

⁠✧ pairing.. head cheerleader!jackie taylor x basketball player!reader.

⁠✧ warnings.. inspired by the 'She drives me crazy', book by Kelly Quindlen. characters are a little ooc(?)

⁠✧ words.. 3.9k.

✎ᝰ. jinx notes.. Sorry for the delay guys 😭 by the way, I have a question. Does the chapters being too long bother you? Personally it doesn't bother me but I get carried away writing... anyways let me know pls

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It takes a while for all your senses to return. Your heart is racing so fast you feel like you're on a roller coaster. Your whole body is hot, and your palms are damp with sweat.

The car you collided with is a black sedan, but before you can get a good look, the other driver gets out of the vehicle, stomping her feet with all the rage of a rabid pinscher.

Jackie Taylor.

Fuck.

Your shock turns to fury immediately. It had to be her. You know you weren’t exactly looking when you crashed, but you also know you had the right of way. Jackie must have decided that the rules of the road don't apply to her.

Your adrenaline rush makes you get out of the car before you can think too much. You slam the car door and meet her halfway.

— What the hell is this? — you ask.

Her eyes flash when she sees you. Quietly, she answers:

— You’ve got to be kidding me.

You ignore her and walk over to the bumper. Miraculously, there's only a small dent; you'll have to fix it, but it's still drivable.

Behind you, Jackie examines her own car.

— Shit — she complains — my parents are going to kill me.

— Well, mine too. — You say, kicking a rock near the wheel of your car. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you fight them back. You hate the idea of crying in front of Jackie Taylor. Again. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but when you turn to look at her car, your entire stomach drops.

Her rear bumper is a mangled, bent wreck; the right side is hanging off, dragging on the asphalt. It's impossible to drive a car like that. Your anger suddenly turns to panic. If her car is worse than yours, does that mean you're to blame? Even if you had the right of way?

You control your breathing and look at her.

— Damn. I'm sorry.

Her eyes burn like you just said something offensive.

— Are you really that stupid? — she snaps. — You should never apologize after a car accident. You basically admitted guilt.

You are so disturbed that you can only stare at her as she say:

— You're lucky I'm not the kind of person who's going to fake a serious injury or some fake emotional trauma to sue you and your parents until I suck all your money out of you, but someone else could do it. Use your head.

Anger flares up in you again.

— Are you really trying to teach me a lesson now? You're the one who reversed my car!

— Why didn't you stop when you saw me?

— Why didn't you stop when you saw me?

You create a commotion in the parking lot. A bunch of people from your class run over to see what happened. Even though school ended a few hours ago, There are still enough people that your accident would be impossible to hide.

— Are you guys okay?

— Aah, your car's back is fucked.

— Oh, shit! Tow Truck Girl fucked up her car again!

One of the cheerleaders rushes to your side, her eyes bulging out of her head. It's Jackie's best friend, the same girl who asked if you were okay earlier: Taissa Turner. She is the great-great-granddaughter of the legendary Mrs. Earl. Her family still owns the Emporium, and she is not exactly how you would imagine a girl to be who comes from a family whose business is Christmas. She has a sweet but firm voice, cartoonish expressions, and is extremely intelligent. She is the perfect combination of Princess Bubblegum and Marceline.

— Holy shit — she exclaims, running straight to you — What happened? Are you guys okay?

Jackie runs her hand slowly over her face.

— I have to call my mom. Shit.

She walks away with her cell phone, her eyebrow still furrowed in anger. Taissa gives you a sympathetic look, but you turn your back and grab your own cell phone.

Your mother shows up fifteen minutes after you call. She brushes the hair off your forehead and comforts you with her calm, steady voice. The whole world could explode and your mother would say: “Um, now how are we going to deal with this?”

— Are you hurt? — she asks.

— No.

— Were you on your cell phone?

— No.

Your mother nods, examining you with the "I don't let anything slip by" look.

— Okay. Let's call the insurance company.

Jackie's mother arrives shortly after this. She is an attractive, sophisticated-looking woman with wavy blonde hair and flawless lipstick, She is wearing a lilac lab coat and a name tag that reads Dr. Taylor. She has the same observant expression as Jackie, the kind that seems able to read you in a second. And that's exactly what she appears to be doing to Jackie now.

— How did this happen? — she asks, tilting her head toward her daughter. Her voice is calm, but authoritarian.

Jackie huffs, crossing her arms over her torso.

— I was reversing, I didn't see her coming…

Mrs. Taylor interrupts her.

— Weren't you looking?

— I was, but…

— But were you lost in your own thoughts, imagining other cheerleading routines?

Jackie's mouth forms a thin line and her eyes drop to the ground.

—That's what happens when you're not focused. — Mrs. Taylor continues. — You know you can't let your guard down. Take pictures of the back. From every angle!

There's an unbearable gap while your moms are on the phone with the insurance company and Jackie and you have nothing to do but exhaustingly ignore each other. When it's all over, your mothers nod to each other and announce that you're both responsible—since both cars were moving—but that Jackie is mostly to blame, since you had preference.

—That's not fair, — Jackie says, shaking her head. — She ran around the bend, she wasn't even looking…

—How do you know I wasn’t looking? — you say, irritated. — Look who's talking! This is the second time you've made fun of my car!

Your mother frowns.

— What do you mean by that?

A silence hangs in the air. You never told your parents the truth about how your car got towed last year; you lied and said you accidentally stopped in front of a fire hydrant. You were too embarrassed to admit that you had been bullied by the cheerleader captain.

Now you and Jackie face each other for an intense moment. Her eyes are wide and anxious. It's the first sign of vulnerability you see in her.

— She... accidentally spilled coffee on my car once.

You don't know what possessed you to say that. This could have been your chance to get some well-deserved revenge, but you'd rather be The Tow Truck Girl than The Snitch Girl.

— Have you ever been in her car before? — Jackie's mother asks. — Are you two friends?

You stare at each other for a long moment.

— Hmm. — Jackie says, recovering. She gestures to her uniform. — I cheer for her team sometimes.

It's a good thing no one is looking at you, because the eye roll you give would prove that's a lie in a second. You have no doubt that Jackie, as captain, could ensure that your team cheered for you rather than the boys, but why would a cheerleader bother challenging the status quo?

— Oh, that’s great, — her mother murmurs. — Well, that makes it less weird, doesn’t it?

Jackie's mother chuckles.

— Yes, what a relief!

What follows is one of the worst mommy embarrassments you'll ever experience. Your moms introduce themselves to each other, make horrible jokes about how neither of you are one of those strict, meddling moms that would turn this accident into a spectacle.

— Imagine having to do that to a Candlehawk woman! — says your mother.

—That's a level of hell I don't need today! — Jackie's mother laughs.

Jackie and you say nothing, waiting for them to stop.

— Y/n, you seem like a serious student. — Dr. Taylor says suddenly. — What are you studying?

— Mom, stop... — Jackie tries.

— Er... my favorite subject is History. — you answer.

— Is that what you want to study in college?

— Sure, — you lie. You’ve never thought about it seriously, but Dr. Taylor seems like the kind of person who needs a confident answer.

— And what sport do you play? Is that a basketball uniform? Basketball is a great sport. See, Jackie? You can be a serious student and a competitive athlete.

— I am. — Jackie says, looking like she’s had this conversation a hundred times before.

— Cheerleading is also an admirable sport. — her mother opines.

Dr. Taylor nods politely, but obviously disagrees.

— Well, it looks like everything is in order here. — she says authoritatively. — We're waiting for the tow truck, but we'll leave as soon as it arrives.

You meet Jackie's eyes at the word tow truck.

She looks away, but you can see a twinge of guilt there.

— Having your car towed is horrible. — you say with false empathy. — it happened to me once. I'm sorry about that.

You can almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. It's so satisfying that you almost start singing. But then…

— It sucks to be without a car in this city. — Your mother says. — How are you going to get to school, Jackie?

— My husband and I can leave you here. — Jackie's mother says with a wave of her hand. — It's easy for us. We live there on Sleigh Byrne.

— Sleigh Byrne? — Your mother gives you an awkward smile, and suddenly, you’re dreading what she’s going to say next. — We live on the street next to it, in Bells Haven.

You look at her and you know what's going to happen.

— My daughter can give Jackie a ride! — Her mother declares, her eyes bright. — Please, we insist. It's the least we can do.

You try to look at your mother to tell her that this is a terrible idea, but the damage is already done. Jackie's mother lights up like this is the best plan she's ever heard.

She smiles happily at Jackie and holds her hands up as if to say, "Look at this!"

Jackie blinks and offers a grateful, polite smile to your mother, but you know she hates this idea as much as you do.

— Well, it’s settled — your mother says, looking at you excitedly. — Everything’s okay, right?

It's only after you move away from the Taylor family that you convey your horror:

— Mom! — you complain. —, I can't stand that girl! I'd rather go to school naked than have to give her a ride anywhere!

—I thought you said you were friends?

— Um... I mean, maybe that was a slight exaggeration. — You mess up. — But it doesn't matter! The accident wasn't my fault.

His mother is unfazed.

— No, it wasn't your fault, but it's still your responsibility. It won't kill you to give her a ride until the car is fixed.

Ultimately, you walk away from your first traffic accident with a bruised ego, a dented bumper, and the impending terror of giving a ride to the one person who can make your senior year at school even worse.

Your father and younger sister are in the yard hanging Halloween lights when you and your mother pull into your driveway.

Your house is a classic blue and lilac house with wooden floors and a small porch in the front. There is a maple tree in the front yard that reaches as high as the second floor, and a row of shrubs that shades the front porch. That's where her father and Victoria are, arranging the orange lights so they hang on the bushes the way Tori likes them.

— Is there a problem? — your father asks as you and your mother join them in the garden.

— My front bumper. — you reply with a grimace. — It's all crumpled up but I managed to drive it home…

— I was asking about you, sweetie. — Your father says, placing his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with a worried frown, as if he could guess that you have a concussion. That's one of the best things about your dad. He is going to be pissed about the bumper and will insist on accompanying you to the mechanic, but right now he's only concerned about you.

— I'm glad you're okay. — Victoria says, hugging you gently. — Want an ice pack? I have one in the freezer from when I hurt my big toe.

Victoria is the cutie of the family. She's only thirteen, but her parents like to say she has an old soul.

— It's okay, Tori, thanks.

— How is your neck? — your father asks. — Did it bounce?

— Just a little, — you reply, and your father begins to feel the top of your spine. He’s a chiropractor, so he’s always checking your back when you say you slept awkwardly or pulled a muscle on practice.

— Lie down on the grass. — his father says, taking a step back.

— What? Are we going to adjust it here?

— Tori and I are still arranging the decorations. — her father says as if it were obvious. — come on, you know how it works.

Your mother and Victoria just stand there, laughing, while you lie on the grass with your stomach down and your father starts to rub your back. If the neighbors are watching, you doubt they'll be shocked. Your family is known for doing strange things in the front yard. — Like the time five-year-old Victoria insisted you guys eat breakfast outside in your snowsuits. Right in the middle of summer.

— Okay, that should do it. — his father says, giving your neck one last twist. — Are you feeling better?

You can only grunt in response.

You spend the next half hour finishing up your Halloween decorations. It's already dark, so you're at the mercy of the porch lighting, but you're still motivated to finish because Halloween is next week. It is a tradition on your street that everyone gives their best in celebratory decorations. Your decorations, on the other hand, are pretty tacky. You put plastic tombstones all over the grass, and your mom puts a witch and vampire couple on the porch that look like the "American Gothic" painting, and Victoria hangs cobwebs on the mailbox. Your contribution is to arrange a group of skeletons around bales of straw. Last year, your dad made it look like the skeletons were dancing the macarena. This year, you put a thick piece of tobacco in one of their mouths to make it look like it's smoking. Your mother rolls her eyes, but leaves it at that.

Inside the house, you sit down to eat a chicken dinner that your father bought on the way back from the clinic. Your mother and Tori improvise a pasta dish, while your task is to prepare a dish for your older sister, Pamela, who is still working.

—I texted Pam about the accident—Tori says, helping herself to a double portion of pasta. — She was worried about you, y/n. I wanted to go straight home, but she said it was a mess there and that she was pissed off.

Pamela works as a bartender at the best bar in town, Chimney. She's saving up money to rent her own apartment, but for now she lives in your basement with her two cats, BooBoo and Pickles, who keep getting into your mom's garden to dig up the arugula. Cats drive your mother crazy. Your father is more relaxed with them, but he's always been more laid back when it comes to Pam, because he's technically her stepfather. Your mother divorced Pamela's biological father when she was still a baby, but did not marry your father until Pamela was seven years old.

— Y/n — your mother says when there is a pause in the conversation —, do you want to talk about what happened?

You peel the skin off the chicken, aware of everyone watching you. You knew the night of fun decorating would spill over into this conversation, but that didn't mean you were ready.

— Do we need to?

Your father tilts his head.

— Do we need to talk about the fact that you were so distracted that you didn't notice a car coming at you? Yes.

You drop your fork.

— I had a bad day, okay?

— Because of the game with Candlehawk? — Your father asks.

— Because of Allie? — Your mother adds.

You feel lucky to have parents who love you so much and are so involved in your life. They even know the little things that happen, like when you have a stressful test or if you had a fight with Lottie and that’s tormenting you. But sometimes this involvement is so sincere and omnipresent that you feel like every little thing has to end with them trying to sort it out at the dinner table.

— We're sorry we couldn't be there for the game — Your father says, ruffling your hair — We know it's a tough semester. It won't be easy for you without Allie.

— Losing your first love hurts a lot — your mother adds, understanding.

You're not sure your parents actually liked Allie. They smiled and hugged her when she came over, but you always got the feeling they were doing it for her sake, not because they genuinely liked her.

— I promise it will get better — your mother comforts you. — But that doesn't mean you can forget about the rest of your life. You still have your senior year of high school ahead of you, basketball, college, and your wonderful friends…

— I know, I know. — Tears well up in your eyes. You try to swallow them, but they end up falling onto your chicken. — I'm really sorry about the car, guys.

— It's okay. — Your mother says quietly. — Let's leave it at that for today. You can go upstairs and watch a movie. Victoria will take care of the dishes.

Doing the dishes alone sucks—you guys usually share the chores—but the wonderful thing about Victoria is that she wouldn't complain about it in a million years. She nods and clears everyone's plates, offering you a small smile, and you walk up the stairs to your room without looking back.

You spend a lot of time in the shower, probably your record time. For a while, you just stand under the water, your muscles burning, grateful for the heat. You wash your hair and scrub your face after a long cry.

Normally you would blow dry and straighten your hair so it looks good for school tomorrow, but tonight you don't feel like it. You pull on a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants and curl up in bed. For the first time all day, you feel like you can breathe.

Your mom was right to tell you to watch a movie. Today you put on 10 Things I Hate About You, the queen of teen romantic comedies. You can recite lines in your sleep.

A few minutes into the movie, Pamela walks into the room. She's still wearing her bartender uniform and holding her keys, which tells you she literally just got home. She throws herself on the bed, hugs you and makes a fuss as if you were an abandoned kitten she found on the street. Victoria walks in behind her, snuggling up on her other side.

— Who hurt you? — Pamela asks. — Who do I need to kill?

— No one. — You laugh. — I'm fine. How was work?

— The opposite of stimulating. Seriously, how are you?

—It was a shitty day. — you admit. — We played the opening game against Candlehawk. They crushed us. Then my car got crushed.

Pamela shivered.

— Candlehawk means Allie, right?

— Yeah, their new star. She gave me my button back.

Your sisters share a meaningful look.

— What? — you ask, even though you know what they’re going to say.

— She's horrible. — Pamela replies. Lying on her back on the bed. — Like, really, really horrible.

— She wasn't always horrible. Not until she transferred to Candlehawk.

— I think she was already horrible before that. — Victoria retorts. — Do you remember when she got mad when you posted that picture where her hair was frizzy?

— Remember when she didn't talk to you for a whole day because you refused to sneak into that concert with her? — Pamela adds.

That's the thing. You know Allie was difficult sometimes, but it makes you uncomfortable to hear that from other people. It makes you question your judgment, because for a while, you were so happy with her. Were you just completely oblivious to it? Or worse, did you convince yourself that she cared about you when she didn't?

— I know. — You run your hand over your face. — I promise she wasn't always this horrible.

There is a pause in which her sisters are clearly keeping their words to themselves.

— Can we watch the movie now? — you ask.

— Of course. — her sisters respond and nestle into your sides.

When you're about an hour into a movie, your cell phone rings from a number you don't recognize. You reject the call, assuming it's telemarketing.

A moment later, it rings again. Your sisters complain.

— Sorry! — you fiddle with your phone and answer it, impatiently. — Hello?

— Y/n? — a cold voice answers. — It's me, Jackie.

What the fuck.

You straighten up in bed, fumbling for the remote to pause the movie. Your sisters stare at you, but you gesture for them to be quiet. Why is this girl calling you? How did she get your number?

— Hi. — you answer on your phone, trying to sound casual. You turn on the lamp and swing your legs over to the other side of the bed. — I didn't expect you to call…

— How not? — she asks, abruptly. — We have a plan for tomorrow. You know, now that you have to give me a ride.

It takes a while for you to respond.

— Sure. — You answer, tense. — Of course. I just thought you would send a message.

— A call is more efficient.

You clear your throat, trying to stop yourself from yelling at her.

— How is your car? What did the mechanic say?

She ignores the question.

— What time will you pick me up in the morning? I usually leave at 7:25.

You're still trying to position yourself in this conversation, and it takes you a second to understand what she's asking. At 7:25? Your school is only ten minutes away, and classes start after 8:05.

— I usually leave at 7:40 — you reply in an incisive tone.

She makes an impatient noise.

— I have things to do in the morning. If I had my own car I would leave at 7:15.

— I guess you should have thought of that before you rammed into my car, huh?

There is a tense silence.

— Are you picking me up at 7:25 or not?

You grit your teeth.

— I will.

— Great. I'll text you the address.

— Great. How efficient messages are, right?

A moment passes.

— cute — she says, in the most acidic voice you've ever heard in your life. Then she hangs up.

— What the hell was that? — Pamela asks.

— She's my arch enemy. — you say it half jokingly.

— I thought your arch enemy was Allie. — Victoria says.

Pamela elbows her.

— Y/n — Pamela says, taking the remote from your hand —, I don't know what this says about me, but this drama of yours has become the most interesting thing in my life.

taglist: @moesthoughts, @javizheart, @antlertruths, @mistynatsfavourite

[nice-profession-mechanic]

Steve is such a headache when your squad of running-in-a-circle-enjoyers isn't ready or has too much support.

I do enjoy explaining new and incorrect reasons why he's called Steve when the squad stops for a bio break every hour.

Also, when you have an efficient cat wrangler to lead the squad its fun to have everyone start the race, hit one checkpoint and go straight back to enjoying running in a circle, refusing to ever finish the race.

We're edging that one NPC responsible for organising the race.

halloween is THE guild wars 2 holiday. come with me, we’re going to run around in circles in a decrepit, hallowed nightmare dimension, killing plastic spiders and glow-in-the-dark skeletons and candy corn elementals. the looming ghosts of a deposed pumpkin-headed king and the lich who wanted to fuck you so bad before your daughter ate him for breakfast are going to make gay passive-aggressive digs at each other every other minute like you’re not even there. sometimes steve is there too

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens with a reader that REALLY loves to nap/sleep?

This was on my list of ones to do so thank you! And I hope you like it!

Edward:

He got really concerned for a while

There was a period of time, before he started stalking you at night of course, where you would go hours without responding to his texts

He got so anxious one day that he just showed up at your window to make sure you were alright

And you were asleep

Pretty much every time after that if he wanted to know where you were he knew that's what you were doing

When you start dating and he can come and go more freely he'll cuddle up next to you and just watch (creepy)

But then it gets to a point where he gets a bit scared

You guys are out and about and you mention that you're tired and just want to go home and sleep

Or instead of watching a movie with him you'll just drift off

Genuinely asks Carlisle if this is normal

He needs reassurance from both you and Carlisle that this is normal and that sleeping is just fun <3

Alice:

Before you two start dating, when you guys are still just friends, she finds it odd that you won't hang out with her

Like wdym you don't want to spend a whole Saturday shopping

Also finds it odd that you don't want to text or call all the time

She just straight up asks you tho

Almost doesn't believe you when you say it's because you're napping/sleeping

"Okay yeah I toootally believe that you sleep from 7 pm to 4 pm"

But it's true

When she eventually makes her own Edward-style trip to your house in the middle of the day and sees you sleeping she has no choice but to believe it

When you guys start dating she gets a little more annoyed

Like come on you are her partner dammit why are you sleeping all day?

She makes the mistake of waking you up one day

That doesn't go too well

She doesn't do that again

She gets a bit huffy when you sleep all day but just make it up to her by letting her drag you wherever she wants one day and you're good to go

Jasper:

Your relationship is slow to build

You start off only seeing each other in school

Then talking a little bit

Then hanging out at school

Then talking a little bit after

Then hanging out a little bit after

So he doesn't really question anything when you don't talk to him most of the time

He just thinks you don't want to move on to being that close yet

But once you guys start dating, that's when he notices it

For a while he thinks it's just him because he's so used to Alice literally always being there and ready to talk to him

But when he goes over to your house for the first time to hang out and you just take a nap

He puts the dots together

He doesn't mind one bit

He's quiet after all

I feel like he would appreciate the peace since his house is never quiet

And not to mention that he can feel the tranquil and calm emotions radiating from you

You bet your ass he is cuddling with you

He just likes to lay there and close his eyes

Rosalie:

She was pretty quick to notice tbh

I feel like she's one to pick up technology pretty quick

So she's a texter

And she notices that you go dark at like 4 pm every day only to respond again sometime in the middle of the night then stop again

She gets a little annoyed

She thinks you're ignoring her

She gets petty for like, a week

Won't acknowledge you in the hallway or answer your texts

It's only when you basically have a breakdown in front of her that she tells you why

And then you have another breakdown explaining that you're literally just sleeping

So then she feels bad

Cue a week of apology gifts

After that though she starts coming over to nap

Sleep sesh

She brings over a book or a movie to watch while you sleep next to her

She loves it

Like Jasper she loves the tranquility

Emmett:

He'd also notice pretty quick that something's up

Like wdym you don't want to go throw rocks at cars or whatever he does for fun

He would just take it as you being a whimp tho

"You don't want to hang cause you're scared of *insert random thing* right?"

You give in one time and go do something with him and he notices like an hour in that you are yawning like crazy and walking super slow

You explain that this is your regularly scheduled nap time and then it makes sense to him

Unfortunately tho he's not one to just lay around

Something's gonna have to change

Maybe one day dedicated to doing what he wants and then the rest you can sleep as much as you want

Compromise :)

Esme:

Honestly she's down

When you first come over she thinks she's prepared for anything humans would need but then you start drifting off at like 4 and she's like "oh"

Instantly is putting you in a room and telling everyone to be quiet

Is a little concerned but also she thinks it's cute

And it makes her lowkey miss being human and being able to take naps too

LOVES laying with you tho

Will grab a book and lay there with you for hours

Chill queen

Carlisle:

He's concerned

He can't help it

He sees people come in multiple times a day every day with similar symptoms and rarely do any of them have nothing wrong

Once he has learned the extent of your sleeping, he takes you to do some testing

Not even an at-home consultation

You are going into the clinic no ifs, ands, or buts

When he finds that there's nothing wrong though, he'll ease up

Just a little

Is still super concerned though

Will check up on you every once in a while when you're sleeping

He likes spending time with you though

His favorite thing is if you take a nap on the couch in his office

He loves just having you there while he does paperwork for the clinic

Vampire! Bella:

She remembers naps all too well

And she misses them too

Even though she loves being a vampire she does miss getting to rest and disappear from the world for a couple of hours

She will never ever wake you up

Unless there's like an emergency or something

Loves to chill

Again, would be content just reading a book or drawing while you're sleeping

Would like to cuddle too

She likes the warmth and the comfort

Might even convince someone in the Cullen house to buy a nice bed for when you come over (if she doesn't already have one)

[lowkeycasanova]

telling him you won't spend the night to get his reaction

Inspired by the tik tok trend. Requested but I can't find the message.

Headcanon

Characters: Monster trio + Ace & Law

Luffy

The ship had docked for the night. Sunny was rocking with the tide and dinner had been devoured. Now everyone was lounging around, chatting, cleaning up, or getting ready to turn in for the night.

"Oh, I decided I'm not gonna stay over tonight." you told casually told Luffy.

He blinks, processing your words like the don't quite make sense. Then his face immediately twists in a dramatic pout. "Huh? What do you mean you're not staying?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I mean I'm not staying over. What's the problem?"

His bottom lip sticks out and his brows scrunch in pure betrayal. "Where else would you go?"

When you don't take it back, he shifts closer to you. "Just stay. Why wouldn't you stay? You always stay." he says, softly caressing your hand.

You nearly want to melt right then, but you keep up the act. "You'll be fine for one night."

"No I won't." he argues instantly.

The look in his big, round eyes makes you crumble. You huff, unable to hold back your grin any longer. "Okay! Okay! It was a joke."

His face lights up, that pout disappearing like it was never there.

"Ahaha! I knew it!" he exclaims.

Zoro

Zoro sits on the deck, arms crossed, eyes closed - half napping, half listening to the sounds of the waves. You yawn beside him.

"Hey, so I'm actually not gonna sleep over tonight." you nudged him.

At first, he doesn't react. Just a slow blink, like he's debating on if he heard you right. Without opening his eyes, he mumbles, "What the hell do you mean?"

When you repeat yourself, his brows twitch slightly and turns his head to look at you. "Why?" his voice is steady, with an edge to it, like your answer better be good.

"I just wanted to sleep in my own bed tonight." you say as you force yourself to picture your own bed- how it feels, how it smells- anything to keep your expression neutral. Still you can feel the corners of your mouth threatening to twitch. You bite the inside of your cheek, staying strong.

"Tch. That's dumb. Just stay with me." he says so matter-of-factly like it's the obvious answer. Like there's no scenario where you shouldn't be in his bed tonight.

You insist and he narrows his eyes. "You tryna piss me off?"

He's not actually mad, not yet anyway, but the idea of you not being next to him irritates him more than he'd like to admit.

You keep it up but he acts unbothered. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

But when you stand up to leave, his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you down onto his lap. "You're not going anywhere."

He won't outright beg, but he's not above to using his strength to keep you exactly where you belong.

Sanji

Sanji is in the kitchen, smiling softly to himself with you on a stool a few feet away, enjoying each other’s company when you tell him, “Oh by the way, I’m not going to stay over tonight.”

The knife he’s holding clatters onto the cutting board. He freezes, mid-motion, shoulders stiff, as if you just told him the most heartbreaking news imaginable. Slowly, he turns to face you, eyes wide with pure devastation.

"What did you just say?"

When you repeat yourself, his brows knit together and he lets out a disappointed sigh. "Why?" his voice is calm but there's a clear sulking behind it.

You don't give a straight answer. He sets the knife aside, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "You always stay. Why not tonight? Did I do something wrong?" he asks.

"No, of course not." you told him. "It's nothing bad."

You try to get up and leave to really sell it but he reaches out, gently grabbing your wrist. "At least stay until I finish cooking. You don't have to sleep over but...just have dinner first."

It was then when you couldn't hold it in anymore. You laugh but also nearly hold back what you think are tears from how sweet he's being. You confess it was just a joke and he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He runs a hand down his face, then showing that lopsided grin. A complete 180 from where he was a few seconds ago.

"My love, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

Ace

Ace is lying with his back on the bed, hands behind his head as he lazily watches you move around the room when you casually say, "Hey, I'm actually not gonna spend the night here tonight."

He blinks once. Then twice.

"Huh?"

When you repeat yourself, he stares at you as if you'd just slapped him. "You already told me you were staying. You changed your mind?"

"Yeah." you said like it was nothing at all. He shifts onto his side, propping his head up with his hand.

"If you want to break up with me, just say that."

You turn away, pretending to busy yourself with something- anything- to keep him from seeing the way your mouth is twitching into a smile and how your shoulders tremble from the effort of trying to hold in your laughter.

"'Cause there's no other reason you'd leave me here otherwise." he adds.

You bite your bottom lip, still refusing to turn around until you've mustered up enough strength to put on a serious face.

"I just wanted to have a night to myself. It's not that deep."

He lets out a wounded sigh. So dramatic. But the second you crack a smile, he sits up fast, pointing a finger at you. "I knew it! You're messing with me!"

Before you can even react, he grabs you and pulls you to the bed, wrapping his arms around you. His voice his smug, lightly brushing your ear. "Nah, you're staying. Too late to back out now."

Law

Law is sitting at his desk, flipping through some papers while he absentmindedly rambles to you about some new surgical technique.

"It's not widely used, but the survival rate is significantly higher-"

You sit on the bed that's close by, nodding along, but your mind is elsewhere. Which is a shame because it isn't often when he gets like this, talking about things he loves. You've been trying to find the right moment to say it but you can't just just blurt it out when he's speaking.

"The only issue is post operation infection. But if managed correctly-"

Okay, maybe once he finishes his thought.

Or the next one.

Finally, he pauses. Your fingers twitch. Just do it now.

You stretch your arms and pretend to yawn. "I think I'm gonna sleep in my room tonight."

He doesn't react at first. Just continuing to flip pages, pausing mid turn. Slowly, his eyes reach you, brows drawing together slightly. "...What?"

You repeat yourself and this time he sets the papers down completely. His gaze still lingers on you, sharp and calculating. "Why?"

"Wanted to sleep in my own room tonight." you shrug, keeping it vague. He exhales.

"But what's different about tonight?" he asks. You dodge it again.

"You're acting weird." he doesn't sound irritated, just skeptical. "Did something happen?"

You shake your head quickly, trying to keep your expression neutral. "No, nothing happened. Just felt like switching it up."

Law leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he studies you. His sharp eyes flick over your face, dissecting every little movement, every twitch of your lips, every blink too long. He’s catching on.

"You're lying," he states flatly.

Your fingers tighten against the sheets. "What? No, I’m not—"

"You are," he cuts in, unwavering. "Your body language changed the moment you said it." He tilts his head slightly, as if piecing together a puzzle. "You're suppressing a reaction. Trying too hard to act normal."

Damn it.

Law rubs his temple. "If you really didn't want to stay, I wouldn't stop you," he mutters, picking up his papers again.

The finality in his voice shatters your composure, and a laugh bursts out before you can stop it. You shake your head, waving your hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! You got me. It was a joke."

He clicks his tongue, shooting you a mildly exasperated look. "Figures." But the corner of his mouth turns up into a smile. Barely.

Still chuckling, you hop off the bed and make your way toward him, draping your arms over his shoulders from behind. "Aw, I'm sorry. " you tease.

He mumbles something under his breath. Then, without warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap, arms locking around you securely. His chin rests on your shoulder, his lips barely brushing against your skin as he exhales a quiet sigh, letting you know he's not as unaffected as he pretended to be.

[szarina]

SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ

❝ BED OF ROSES. ❞

( ၴႅၴ FEATURING. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER

CONTENT WARNINGS. babytrapping + sabotage + brief chap. 260 spoilers + implied abuse + abandonment issues + gaslighting + emotional manipulation + smut.

SYNOPSIS. kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.

“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”

that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.

he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.

“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.

“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.

you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.

everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.

your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.

he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.

he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.

“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.

michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.

he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.

“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.

sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.

“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.

the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.

building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.

all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.

a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.

“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”

sugar pills.

sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.

michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.

as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.

it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.

[writinginatree]

Caught

Relationship(s): Brennan Sorrengail/female!Riorson!reader, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis & sister!reader

Summary: Your older brother and closest friends get overprotective when they find out you've started dating your mentor Brennan behind their backs.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 20, Brennan is... however old he canonically is. 29? 30? Idk), being caught making out, threats and teasing. First time I'm writing for Brennan, so pls don't judge too harshly.

Anonymous requested: Heyy can you make a platonic fic where Xaden is y/ns brother and she gets her signet which is kind of similar to brennan's so y/n and brennan start hanging out and they start liking each other so they start secretly dating. But one day Xaden, Bhodi and Garrick catch them (the three can be protective)

Afterwards, you can't even say which of them caught you first, because your eyes were closed when they walked in. Had they been open, you probably still wouldn't have noticed, busy sticking your tongue down Brennan's throat as you were. It wasn't until you heard the noise of disgust from the doorway that the two of you realized someone had walked in. You immediately sprang apart, but it was too late.

The secret is out, and now you have to deal with the consequences of not locking the door in form of the three overprotective guys standing in the door to Brennan's office.

"What the hell," Xaden growls, and for maybe the first time in your life, you understand why people are afraid of him. That is murder shining in his dark eyes, directed straight at your secret boyfriend.

For a tense few seconds, everyone is silent. You find yourself wishing you had a signet like Imogen's to simply erase what they just saw from their memories, but of course you would have never gotten so close with Brennan in the first place if you weren't a mender.

"Could we just pretend you guys didn't see that?" you try to diffuse the tension.

Xaden, Garrick, and Bodhi answer as one without even looking at you. "No."

Their furious expressions are so similar that if you squint, it almost seems like your brother has multiplied. As if one angry Xaden wouldn't be trouble enough.

"Thought so..." you sigh, and exchange a look with Brennan, who gives you a tight-lipped smile that you assume is meant to be reassuring. You're too nervous to be reassured, though. This situation has a huge potential to get very ugly.

"Care to enlighten us on what exactly it is that we just saw?" Garrick challenges, cocking his head at you.

"It's called kissing," you retort. Maybe being snippy isn't the best idea, considering how pissed they are, but you can't help how annoyed you are by the interruption. "If you're not familiar with the term, we have a library where I'm sure you'll find a dictionary to look it up."

"Really," Xaden growls. "You sure about that? Because it looked like a lot more than kissing, considering where he had his hands."

Damn it. You were hoping none of them had noticed Brennan's hands under your shirt, or the way you'd been perched on the edge of his desk with your legs on either side of his hips, but of course you couldn't be so lucky.

Thank gods things hadn't gone far enough for any clothing to come off yet.

Even as it is, you're not sure how the fuck you're going to keep your brother from murdering Brennan. There can be no doubt he wants to, not with that look on his face. It's a testament to Xaden's self-restraint that he isn't at his throat already.

You take a step to the side, positioning yourself in front of your boyfriend, just in case the situation escalates, but Xaden isn't having it. His shadows wrap around your arms and pull you away from Brennan, not releasing you until you're right in between Bodhi and Garrick with Xaden in front of you.

"Hey! What the fuck, Xay!" you yell, only to be ignored. When you try to walk back over to Brennan's side, a waist high wall of shadows blocks your path.

Brennan asks, a lot more calmly than you, "Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

In your opinion, Xaden is overreacting a lot. This is ridiculous. The three of them have always been very protective of you, but this is a whole new level of overprotectiveness, even for them. Maybe it's because they've never had the chance to give someone the shovel talk before, since both of the two relationships you've had so far — if you can even call them that, considering they consisted of no more than a handful of dates each — had taken place while the boys were already away at Basgiath. Or maybe it's the suddenness of unsuspectingly opening a door only to be met with the sight of you and Brennan making out.

If you'd just told them you're dating, it might have gone better. You had meant to tell them — eventually.

You had known all along you wouldn't be able to keep your relationship hidden forever. Xaden has a talent for sniffing out people's secrets — probably a side effect of having so many of them himself. You didn't want to keep it secret forever, only as long as the relationship was still fresh, until you figured things out a little more. The problem was the question of how to tell people without them making a big deal of it. Both of you knew right from the start people would judge you once they found out — because of the age difference between you, because he is a Lieutenant Colonel and you're just a first-year cadet, because he is the one instructing you as a mender.

Of all the ways your brother — or rather brothers, since Bodhi and Garrick are just as close to you as Xaden — could have found out, this is just about the worst.

"Overreacting?" Xaden asks in that deceptively soft tone that usually promises a painful death. "I catch you being all over my fucking baby sister, and you think I'm overreacting for putting some distance between you and her until I know what the fuck is going on here?"

Brennan rubs a hand over his face and sighs. "No. I get that. But it's not what it might have looked like."

"Isn't it? Then please, do tell me what the fucking hell you think you were doing with my baby sister."

Before Brennan can do so, you snap, "I am not a baby! I'm twenty!"

Xaden only spares you the barest glance, but that's enough for you to realize he's not just angry with Brennan, but with you, too. His curt answer confirms that. "You're grounded is what you are."

You gape at him, not sure you heard him right. "You can't ground me!"

"Watch me."

Just like that, he dismisses you, turning back to Brennan and demanding he explain himself. As if nothing you have to say about this even matters.

"You're being ridiculous, Xaden! What I'm doing with my boyfriend is none of your fucking business!"

Damn, it feels good to actually call Brennan that out loud.

Your brother looks momentarily put off by your giving Brennan that title, but ultimately ignores the statement. He doesn't even turn to look at you again. "I'd like to talk to Brennan alone for a moment, Y/N," he says. His voice is calm, but you can hear the fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"Absolutely not!"

"I promise I won't kill him... for now."

"How reassuring." You hesitate, knowing this is a fight you can't win. "Promise you won't punch or otherwise hurt him, either?"

"That depends on him."

"Go. I'll be fine," Brennan says.

You wish Xaden would let you near him. If you were in reach, he would doubtlessly be giving your hand a reassuring squeeze like he's taken to doing lately when he notices you're nervous, and right now, nervous doesn't even begin to describe how anxious you are. It's impressive how Brennan manages to stay so calm with Xaden trying to glare holes into him. Maybe his near death experience during the rebellion has made him immune to fearing for his life. Or maybe he's just good at hiding his nerves. He certainly isn't so stupid to think your brother is not a threat just because he's younger than Brennan.

"Alright." You point a threatening finger at Xaden. "But I want him back in one piece."

"Yeah, I gathered as much," he says, which isn't exactly agreement, but better than nothing.

Bodhi and Garrick lead you from the room, taking you in the middle. It simultaneously makes you feel like a child and like you're a criminal being escorted to prison. They lead you to the kitchen, the silence between you heavy like it's never been before.

"Guys—"

"Save the excuses for when Xaden is done with Brennan," Bodhi advises. He doesn't really sound angry, but when you risk a glance at his face, he's still wearing that scowl that looks like it belongs on Xaden's face instead of Bodhi's.

"I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal of this," you mutter as you take a seat at the kitchen table. "I'm more than old enough to have a boyfriend."

"That's not the point," Bodhi says. "The point is that he's too old to be your boyfriend."

"Bullshit. You're making it sound like he's ninety. Or like I'm ten."

Bodhi and Garrick shake their heads and refuse to say any more for now. You should probably be glad for the relative peace while it lasts. Once Xaden joins you, you'll be getting an earful, no doubt.

The waiting is bad. The not knowing what Xaden and Brennan are talking about, exactly, is worse. And the worst of it all is your own imagination running wild with all the horrible things that could be happening inside Brennan's office while you sit here, thinking they're just talking. Logically, you know Xaden won't attack Brennan, no matter how much he might want to. By now, he probably already realized Brennan holds no bad intentions toward you, and has calmed down. Even if he were to get violent, your boyfriend is perfectly capable of defending himself. None of these facts stop you from worrying, though.

After what feels like an eternity, Xaden walks into the kitchen. To your relief, you don't see any blood on him. That doesn't necessarily mean anything — you know he's perfectly capable of slaughtering someone without getting any of the mess on himself — but it's a good sign nonetheless. He doesn't look quite as furious anymore, either.

But not furious anymore doesn't mean his anger has evaporated. He's still far from happy, that much is evident by the look he gives you when he takes a seat across from you, folding his arms on the table. You know that look very well; it always means you're about to get lectured.

But before he can start, you can't stop yourself from asking, "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"No," Xaden says, drumming his fingers on the table. He exchanges a look with Bodhi and Garrick, and adds, "Apparently, they're in love, so I decided to let him live."

Garrick snorts. "Well, clearly having a thing for Sorrengails runs in the family."

You ignore Garrick and glare at your brother. "If you'd just asked me, I could have told you that too. You didn't need to make such a scene."

"Watch it, or I really will ground you."

Rolling your eyes, you ask, "Why are you so mad about this, anyway? Aren't you and Brennan, like, friends?"

"That doesn't mean I want him dating my sister. He's too fucking old for you, not to mention he's supposed to be your mentor."

"I know it's not ideal. But you're not in the position to talk, considering you were Violet's wingleader when you two got together. And Brennan never gave you shit for that."

At least not as far as you know.

"Xaden and Violet are almost the same age, though," Bodhi points out. "Brennan is like, a decade older than you."

It does sound kind of bad when he phrases it like that, which is probably why he did it. Still, it's not the world-ending issue they're making it out to be.

"I'm aware. And I know that kind of age difference is a bit... unusual—"

"It's fucking weird is what it is," Garrick interjects.

"Fine, whatever. But I'm an adult, in case you haven't noticed, so—"

"A very young adult," Xaden corrects.

"Stop interrupting me! What I'm trying to say is, just because Brennan is a few years older than me doesn't mean he's taking advantage of me or anything like that. I'm not a little kid."

"No, but you're young and inexperienced. Even if he doesn't mean to take advantage of you, it's a fact that he's in a position of power over you, and you've never even had a proper relationship before."

"Just because my previous relationships ended before they really started doesn't mean they don't count. Besides, there's a first time for everything."

"Sure, but—"

"No but! Stop treating me like a godsdamned child, Xaden! I'm only three years younger than you. And I understand why you're... concerned... about the age difference between Brennan and me, okay. But—"

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Xaden interrupts. "Tell us?"

"Because I knew you'd freak out!"

"We're freaking out because you kept it from us so long! How are we supposed to look out for you if we don't know about the shit you're getting yourself into?! If you really understood why we're concerned, you would have told us."

"I was going to tell you! Just... not yet."

"You should have told us the moment this started," Garrick says.

You cross your arms and lean back in your seat, glaring from one of them to the other. "Why? So you could have meddled and stopped us from getting together?"

"So we could have made sure you're safe," Bodhi insists. "We're just trying to look out for you!"

You soften a little at that. It sucks having to justify your relationship like this, but you know they're not arguing with you just to make you feel bad. They only want your best, even when they're being unreasonable and overbearing.

"I know. And I appreciate it. But there really isn't anything to worry about. Brennan is very gentlemanly, you know."

"Well, that's good."

You think maybe they'll leave it at that, but then Garrick asks, "How long has this been going on for, anyway?"

"A few weeks."

It had started innocent enough. When your signet manifested, Brennan was the obvious choice to mentor you. Before that, you'd only known him fleetingly, from Battle Brief and through Xaden. But once you started spending time with him honing your signet, your admiration for his strategic brilliance quickly grew more personal and turned into a full-blown crush.

After months of unsuccessfully trying to fight your feelings, you'd been baffled to find that Brennan returned them.

In your mind, your chances with him had seemed practically non-existent. After all, he is a revered strategist, a war hero and member of the Assembly, while you're just a cadet, constantly overlooked in comparison to your brother. You're nothing special — a good fighter, but not exceptional, bonded to a dragon that is big but not huge nor legendary. Your signet, while useful and not overly common, is nothing out of the ordinary, either. Not even your appearance is anything special — you wouldn't go so far as to call yourself ugly, but you don't have the kind of striking beauty that turns heads wherever you go, either. It's always your brother who draws everyone's eyes, while you fade into the background. Xaden is the powerful one, the brave and selfless one, the pretty and charismatic one, the leader. Meanwhile you're absolutely average in every possible way.

And yet somehow, you'd been lucky enough to earn Brennan's affections; Brennan's, who is way out of your league! You'll be damned if you let these overprotective assholes ruin that for you.

"Weeks?! You've kept this from us for multiple fucking weeks?"

"Yes, Bodhi, I did. Because I don't fucking owe you guys a report about my love life."

He winces. "Of course not. But usually a new relationship is something you tell your friends about, don't you think? Like Xaden said, we can't keep you safe if we don't know what's going on."

"I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay?" You sigh. "I just wanted to avoid this very argument we're having, but I should have known that wouldn't be possible."

Bodhi smiles, and it feels like a peace offer. "Well, it kind of is our job to worry about you."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. And you don't have to like that I'm with Brennan, but you do have to accept it."

The three share a look, and then Xaden nods. "Okay. But we'll be keeping an eye on him."

That was to be expected. You can live with that. Unnecessary as their concern seems to you, it's kind of nice to know they're watching over you.

"Okay. Then if you don't mind, I'm going to go talk to my boyfriend now." You love calling him that. You're going to do it every chance you get for the foreseeable future.

"Talk to him, yeah?" Garrick teases. "Let me guess, you mean the same kind of talking you were doing earlier?"

You ignore the gagging noises Bodhi and Xaden make at the idea, flipping the three of them off as you walk away.

Brennan is in his office where you left him, and true to Xaden's word, he's unharmed. Closing the door behind you, you let out a deep breath and slump your posture.

"Well, that was..."

"Stressful?" Brennan suggests, crossing the distance from his desk to where you stand with three long steps.

"Yeah. That sums it up." You smile. "Definitely not how I meant to spend the afternoon, but at least that matter is out of the way now."

"Did they give you a very hard time about it?"

You shake your head, fidgeting with Brennan's fingers. "They're overprotective to an unhealthy degree, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. If it wasn't so annoying, it would almost be sweet how worried they were. What about you? How many death threats did Xay make once I was out of the room?"

Brennan chuckles. "Oh, a bunch. But they'll only take effect should I mistreat you in any way, shape, or form. Nothing to worry about. It wasn't easy to placate him, but we talked for a while about what I see in you, and I guess in the end I convinced him that this is serious."

"Good." You place your hands on his chest and give him a playful grin. "Now, where were we when those idiots interrupted us?"

Brennan pulls you against him, both hands on the small of your back. You slide yours to the back of his neck, and he presses his lips to yours.

"Right here," he mutters into the kiss. "And this time" — you feel his hand shift, followed by the sound of the lock clicking as he uses lesser magic to lock it — "no one will walk in."

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pill?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pill, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

[scorpioriesling]

Hey girlie, I love that so many of your fics have song references! (I love me some Taylor yay)

That got me thinking, and my favorite character from fourth wing is Garrick (he deserves way more love and attention) and I was wondering if you could do a story based on tates miss possessive where he and reader are in a relationship but (ass we all knoe and I love her) Imogen has a thing for him and reader doesn't like it?

Thank you <3

Miss Possessive

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Garrick x reader

Warning(s): angst, fluff at end, jealousy, injury

Summary: You don't take well to other women going after things that are yours -- especially not sassy, pink-haired, third years.

SR’s Note: Yessss my favorite thing about Tumblr is actually making friends on here, and connecting with readers and writers alike! Whether it be music, books, fandoms and more -- I love meeting new people and seeing the common interests we have! I tried to deliver as best I could, and I hope you like this!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your fork speared another green bean, your eyes never glancing down at the plate. The metal scratched against the porcelain of the dish, and Violet looked sidelong at you. It didn't take long for your closest friend to realize what had enraptured your attention -- your eyes had given it away. You stared straight ahead, directly across the mess hall to the table along the back wall.

"Oh Gods not this again," she uttered softly. You swallowed, spearing a carrot this time. Garrick sat with the other third-years, laughing and cutting up over something so hilarious. Your gaze turned scowl, especially when Imogen's hand brushed his arm. She needed to get her hands, off, your man.

This time, your fork scraped across your plate.

"Jesus, Christ!" Ridoc groaned, staring at you. "Why torture all of us with that horrible sound?"

Violet smirked, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder. You were growing increasingly irritated as Imogen laughed at something Garrick said -- over-animatedly, if it were up to you. You knew Garrick was funny, sure; but that girl was always doing the most when it came to him. Little did she know, he was yours.

"Hey, stare a little harder why don't you -- maybe you'll burn a hole through her skull." Violet teased. Your stare faltered at this, looking to your friend as she looked to you expectantly. "You can't be mad at her for sitting with her friends, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes, huffing.

"Yeah, but I can be mad at her for trying to steal my man."

"Oh, so you finally asked him out then?" Ridoc piped up. You growled, crossing your arms.

Violet only sighed. "No," she said, answering for you. "No, she hasn't yet."

Ridoc chuckled. "So, you're pissed at Imogen, because she's flirting with your boyfriend who's not your boyfriend?"

You banged a fist on the table, the silverware atop it clamoring. The entire table looked at you as you stood instantly, anger flaring inside.

"I'm going to the gym."

It was all you said before tossing your leftovers, and heading for the double doored exit. You passed Garrick's table, but he was too busy nudging Bodhi in the side to register you passing by.

But, out of the corner of your eye, you realized the pink haired female did.

✧･ﾟ: *

The sun was setting low on the horizon, the gym still empty. You huffed and panted as you swung your fists against the punching bag, the pain in your knuckles barely registering after going at it for so long. Music blared in your headphones, the angry lyrics prompting you further. You hadn't heard nor noticed the gym door opening, not until a soft touch to your shoulder had you whirling.

"Woah! Woah!" The voice sounded as though it was underwater, and you instantly lowered your fist and yanked out your earbuds. Before you stood none other than Garrick, hands raised in surrender.

"Oh gosh," you wheezed, arms on your hips as you worked to calm your racing heart. "You really gave me a scare!"

Garrick laughed sheepishly, his beautiful straight teeth shining through. Your heart, already skipping at the sight of him before you, lurched at the sight. Gods, he really was the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

"Sorry -- I just came by to get a few reps in myself, and I noticed... your form," he winced. You squared your shoulders, raising an eyebrow.

"My, what?"

He grinned, a simple in his left cheek popping out.

"Your form," he explained, dropping his gym bag to the ground. He squared off before the bag, bringing his raised fists into a fighting stance. "You tend to hit like this," he demonstrated, punching forward slowly. "But, that'll do you some damage after time. To preserve your knuckles, you need to hit like this," he extended his arm again, demonstrating the wrist rotation you'd been lacking. You nodded in understanding.

"I see."

"Here," he stepped aside, allowing you to stand before the bag once more. "Give it a go."

You sighed softly, spreading your feet to square off before the mat once more. You raised your fists, readying to throw a punch -- but, your breath caught in your throat as Garrick's hands braced your hips.

"Oh, and you'll want to angle yourself this way too," he said softly. His breath graced your neck, and you could've melted beneath his touch. Only when he released you did you breathe again, trying to regain focus on the task at hand. You threw a few punches, trying to imitate what Garrick had showed you -- but you weren't quite doing them just right.

Garrick frowned, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I'm not sure, Y/N -- something still looks off." His brows furrowed in concentration. That's when a lightbulb went off in your head.

"You're right, I don't think I'm quite getting it," you said innocently. You stepped forward, arms crossing beneath your breasts. "Maybe I need a tutor, or a trainer, I guess."

Garrick nodded in agreement.

"That might actually help a lot," he said, and your cheeks heated beneath the weight of his gaze. You sighed, shrugging your shoulders.

"I mean, I'm sure anyone else could help me but... you always spar so well, I think it'd be best if you trained me," you said sweetly. His brows shot up at this, clearly thinking over the idea.

"Me? Oh, I mean... yeah, that's an idea," he said, mulling it over. You swallowed, taking another step toward him.

"What about right now?" You asked. He chuckled nervously, a hand reaching to scratch the back of his head.

"Oh! I don't think I'll be able to tonight, unfortunately," he said apologetically. You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip. "I already told Imogen I'd spar with her-"

"Wait. What?" You couldn't help but interrupt. He only shrugged.

"Yeah, I mean with challenges at the end of next week, she asked me to work with her tonight, and I said sure. She's a really good friend, Y/N, I couldn't just cancel on her."

You huffed, rolling your eyes. Your attention was stolen as the gym doors opened again -- this time, the bane of your existance walking through them with her bright pink hair.

Garrick turned back to you, placing a promising hand on your shoulder.

"What are you up to tomorrow?" He asked, his eyes locked onto yours. You stared up at him, though the pink streak in your field of vision was drawing closer and closer.

"Nothing -- absolutely nothing," you said. A lie, sure -- you had promised Violet you'd study with her. But, she'd understand, especially if it meant you'd get some one-on-one time with Garrick.

He nodded. "Perfect -- I'll meet you here at seven?"

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"Sounds like it'll work for me."

Garrick's hand dropped as Imogen stalked closer, tossing her duffel loudly onto the floor. She sighed as she stretched, arching her back and crossing her arms side to side. You'd had just about enough of that, and on that note, bid your crush goodbye.

✧･ﾟ: *

"Seriously? We made these plans days ago."

So, Violet wasn't as chill about cancelling study plans afterall. She frowned at you from her bed, watching as you secured your hair in a ponytail across the room.

"I'm sorry Vi -- I just had something come up. An important something, might I add," you added with a hint of intrigue. Violet only sighed.

"We take the test Monday," she griped, shaking her head. "I do get that it's a Friday night, but what could have possibly come up that is more important than passing it?"

You secured the ponytail around your thick strands. "Trust me, Vi -- it's not something I can just reschedule."

She shrugged, hopping off her bed.

"Well, then I wish you the best of luck on Monday."

✧･ﾟ: *

You checked the time again. 6:45. You were early. Unsurprising, as you'd been pacing your room for hours, waiting for seven to come -- but, now that you were here at the gym, the nerves began to creep in. Adrenaline flowed through you as you paced before the gym doors, not wanting to go in too early.

There wasn't much time left, you supposed. You pushed through the entry, taking stock of the empty gym -- well, almost empty. To the left, near the weight racks, Garrick grunted, his muscles flexed and bare chest sweaty.

The sight nearly took your breath away.

He grunted again as he lifted the weights, his muscles straining and veins more visible as you approached. His biceps bulged as he lifted the bar up again, this time dropping it onto the rack with a satisfied huff. He sat up, panting, though his eyes caught on you.

"Hey," he said breathlessly, making to stand. You set down your things, undoing and resecuring the wraps around your knuckles anxiously.

"H-Hi," you mumbled, straining to keep your gaze away from his bare, toned chest. He approached you, running his fingers through his hair as he took in heavy breaths.

"You ready to get started?" He asked, and you nodded. "Did you stretch?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at this.

"No," you admitted. He shook his head as a small grin tilted the corners of his lips.

"You want to stretch before working out -- every time," he insisted. You dropped to your knees, sitting back as you straightened your legs before you. He joined you on the floor, watching as you slowly prepared your body for the exercises.

"Not stretching will only ever result in injury."

✧･ﾟ: *

When Monday morning came, you found it hard to sit still in Duvera's class. The test lay before you, the one you neglected to study for -- and Violet sat to your left, side-eyeing you. She'd picked up on something, watching you practically skip down the halls all weekend with glee. What she didn't know was that your cancelled plans Friday night were the reason why.

Your eyes glazed over as you read the question again, one of the last ones on the exam. What year was Basgiath War College founded? Shit, you didn't know the answer. Only a small seed of regret bloomed in your chest as you considered it -- maybe taking a little time to study would've been helpful. But, that would have meant less time with Garrick-

"Five minutes, cadets!"

Duvera's warning caused you to panic. You frantically filled out the rest of your paper, scrambling to bring it to her desk as the bell rang. Violet followed you out, flanking your side when you made it to the main hallway.

"How do you think you did?"

You shrugged, unable to look at her. "Not as well as I could've, if I would've studied."

She chuckled, nudging your side.

"Well, I think I did pretty good -- no good worrying over it now though." She said. As the two of you rounded the corner, your heart stopped beating in your chest. Just down the hall, Garrick held open the doors to the sparring ring, allowing Imogen to walk through. Her grateful expression only kindled the hate flames inside of you -- his smirk set them ablaze.

"What's gotten into you?" Violet asks, following as you walked quicker toward the sparring ring. You peeked inside, noticing quite a few other third years inside. Graciously, Imogen wasn't talking to Garrick this time -- she was in deep conversation with Quinn and a few others. Garrick's back was to the door, but you knew without a doubt it was him.

"Nothing, nothing," you responded absentmindedly. Violet huffed, looking around as the hall began to clear.

"It doesn't seem like nothing -- c'mon, we're gonna be late for land nav," she pleaded. You tore your eyes from the peephole, following as Violet took off for your second lecture of the day.

Fucking Imogen.

The bane of your existence, Imogen.

✧･ﾟ: *

You tried not to think about the poor grade you recieved on your exam as your fist connected with the bag once more. Garrick stood to your right, coaching your every move.

"Good, now go faster -- yes!" He praised as your knuckles hit the targeted area. You paused, breathing heavy as you turned to face him. His expression was full of delight, his smile full of teeth as he looked at you.

"You've gotten a lot better at this, Y/N," he complimented, reaching to grab your waterbottle from behind him. He handed it to you and your fingers brushed his as you took it -- your beart skipping a beat.

"Do you think you're ready for mat training?"

You nearly choked on your water, the suggestion surprising.

"M-mat? Training?"

He chuckled, taking the bottle from you and setting it near the punching bag.

"Yes -- I think it could really help you, especially with challenges coming this weekend," he explained. Your heart sank as you registered his words -- sure, you could hold your own on the mat. But with challenges only continuing to get harder and harder, you could actually benefit from a few pointers.

"Yeah, actually that sounds great... should we start tonight?"

"It'll have to wait until tomorrow -- I'm using this area for the rest of the night."

Your blood ran cold as you turned, coming face-to-face with Imogen. Her words were spoken firmly, as though she had no doubt whatever she said would go. Garrick chuckled, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Gen, what are you even talking about. We can't share?"

She scoffed, her gaze narrowing in on you. "No, we can't. And you only reserved the gym for training until nine -- I have it until closing time later."

You glared at her, but she only chuckled. Garrick tilted his head, curious and oblivious to the silent war waging between the two of you.

"Why do you need the whole gym to yourself?" He asked. Her feline grin turned feral in response.

"It's not just for me -- I've taken on a little second year in need of some training, myself," she quipped. You folded your arms.

"Who?" You demanded. She smirked, and your eyes widened as a familiar, silvery braid approached behind her.

You stared, shocked and horrified as Violet walked up to you, a sheepish smile on her face. "Hey, Y/N."

Your brows narrowed, your blood boiling. "Violet -- what are you doing here?"

"She needed my help," Imogen snapped. Violet stared quietly at you, watching as you shook your head slowly. "Her best friend started taking private lessons, anyway -- why shouldn't she?"

You growled. "It's not the private lessons that are the problem," you said lowly. Imogen raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Then what is?"

You glared at her, your face flushing in embarassment. Violet shot you an apologetic look, but you ignored it. Instead, you yanked your bag up off the floor, huffing and striding for the exit.

"Great work tonight!" Garrick called. You didn't turn to face him, his voice fading as you shoved through the exit doors. "We'll practice more tomorrow!"

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd trained with Garrick so many times now, you realized you felt the most comfortable being around him. He always kept things so professional with you though, and you wished he'd break free of that facade and act instead.

Thank again, he'd only ever been cordial with you. But tonight -- oh, tonight, you knew you could break him.

Strutting into the gym, you tilted your chin high. The last few riders exited as you strode in, eyeing you and flat out gawking as you passed them by. You didn't mind, that was the point, anyway -- now you could only hope Garrick would take the bait.

"Hi Garrick," you said smoothly, your hips swaying as you sauntered up to him. Bodhi and Dain paused mid conversation, the officer's eyes unabashedly roving over your form. Your Wingleader was more subtle about it though, covering up his interest with a strained cough.

"Oh! Shit, sorry, I didn't realize it was so late," Dain said, purposefully averting his eyes. Garrick turned, his eyes landing right where you wanted them too as he took you in.

"No worries, I'm a few minutes early anyways," you said, smiling sweetly. Dain moved to leave the room, yet Bodhi still stared, enraptured.

"Y'know... if Garrick is ever busy, I'm more than happy to-"

The back of Garrick's hand met his friend's chest, halting his sentence.

"No need, Bodhi -- Y/N knows I always have time for her, don't you Y/N?"

You peered up at him innocently, and Bodhi shook his curls softly.

"Right... well... I'll leave you two to it, I guess." He walked off defeatedly, and you cocked an eyebrow at your trainer.

"So, mat training tonight?" You questioned. Garrick swallowed thickly, nodding in response.

"Yep. I suppose so."

✧･ﾟ: *

You grew increasingly frustrated as Garrick forced you to repeat the same move again -- and again, you did it wrong. This time, you weren't even trying to mess up, but you just couldn't quite seem to figure it out anyway. All night, you'd been teasing the male without so much as a flinch from him -- the excessive stretching, the skimpy garments, and bedroom eyes -- nothing worked, and it was pissing you off.

You groaned in frustration, moving to reset your position once again.

"Garrick, I don't even understand why you're making me do this," you griped, bending your knees and taking a fighting atance again. "You said tonight we'd do mat training -- what does any of this have to do with-"

The wind was knocked from your lungs as the male lunged at you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You shouted as you were flung backward, landing straight on your ass. You gasped for air, vision blurring as Garrick released you at once.

"Because," he said, his tone curt. "Someone will take advantage of your ill-preparation, and knock you on your ass as I've just done."

You frowned, but he kept talking.

"Sparring begins with a good stance -- now, get back up, let's try again."

You huffed, accepting his outstretched palm as he tugged you back onto your feet. About 15 attempts later, he finally dealt you some praise.

"Very good! Now -- for hand-to-hand. Show me what you've got."

You stared blankly at him.

"You mean... fight you?"

He chuckled, readying himself before you. "Sure! Let's see what you've got, then I'll know where to start with you."

✧･ﾟ: *

You couldn't exactly be angry over how many times Garrick had you pinned to the mat -- he was a third-year, however, and you weren't complaining about him landing on top of you.

It was another hour before you began to push back, dealing him new blows and dodging the way he'd instructed you.

"Well done, Y/N!" He congradulated. It was short-lived, as the next round, you were on your ass again. This time, your back laid flat on the ground, and Garrick's nose hovered a few inches above yours.

"You've got fire," he said gently, his eyes searching yours. "But, I think I've figrued out what fuels you."

He had not the slightest idea.

"Back up -- this time, try and fight me with a little bit of that attitude from earlier."

You gasped, your hands curling into fists.

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "You heard me -- where'd that bratty sense of entitlement go, hm? Was it the first time I put you on your back, or the fifteenth-"

You lunged for him, growling as you took one of his legs out from beneath him. He gasped as he fell back, not expecting the move. You pinned him to the mat with your hips, your hands dodging his as he went to grab you. Once you had his pinned above his head, you finally found the courage to smirk down at him.

"This attitude, you mean?" You chuckled. His arms slid from your grip, grabbing at your exposed waist and flipping you over. Now, his hips pinned you -- his lips so close to yours, they could touch.

He smiled, soft as he looked down into your eyes.

"Exacly, that attitude."

This was the moment -- it had to be. Heat flared between your thighs as his hips pressed firmly against you, his bulge twitching and hardening beneath his sweats. Your spandex shorts did nothing to restrict the feeling, and a small wave of victory crossed your mind. You'd got him.

Slowly, you craned your neck, lifting your head from the mat as your mouth moved closer to his. His eyes fell closed, and you tilted your chin, almost there, almost-

"Am I interrupting something?"

Garrick's eyes flew open, his head turning toward the entry doors. You looked too, though you already knew who that annoying voice belonged to.

Imogen.

"N-no," Garrick stuttered, immediately releasing you and scrambling to his feet. He dusted himself off, not offerring you a hand this time. You stood reluctantly, watching as Imogen infultrated the room, dropping her bag without a care in the world.

"It was nothing, Gen. We were just training," he assured her. Her eyes dragged up and down your body, assessing, judging. You wrapped your arms around your bare torso, suddenly feeling exposed. The cropped tank and spandex shorts were meant to lure in Garrick -- not be used against you, making you feel so small.

"Right," she said, disbelievingly. She shrugged, working to wrap her knuckles with tape. "Well, Violet will be here any minute, so."

Garrick nodded, giving you a small glance before gathering his things. You sighed, reaching for your bag as well.

"I'll... see you tomorrow, Y/N. Be ready for the challenges."

It was all he said before racing through the doors, faster than a bat straight out of Hell. You frowned, standing from the floor and preparing to follow him out. That was, until Imogen's taped hand caught your shoulder to stop you.

"What?" You hissed, narrowing your eyes. She leveled you with an accusatory stare.

"I know what you're doing, second-year; and it's not gonna work."

You laughed humorlessly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you stated, trying to wrench your shoulder free of her grasp. She held tight, leaning in to speak lowly to you.

"You don't think it's obvious? The stares, the lessons, the... whatever the Hell it is you're wearing," she said wit disgust. Your cheeks reddened, but she kept talking. "I've been friends with Garrick for a very long time -- whatever you're doing is not gonna work."

You shook your head slowly, swallowing.

"Right. And I'm sure whatever you're doing, is?" You bit back. She dropped her hand, glowering at you. "Or, maybe not -- last I checked, he's not your boyfriend either."

She stared silently at you, her anger visible on her face. You shrugged, shifting your bag higher onto your shoulder. The door opened and Violet walked in, and you took that as your cue to leave.

"Good luck tomorrow, by the way," Imogen grit out. "I heard the challenges this week were going to be much harder than before."

✧･ﾟ: *

You were all but stewing as you watched the match happening before you. A girl from first wing was paired with another female from yours - Rhiannon, you think. She was doing your wing justice, absolutely handing the ither girl's ass to her. Violet flanked your side, not talking much as she watched beside you.

"You can't give me the silent treatment forever," she said, and you cuold practically feel her stare at the side of your head. Sure, the past week had not been fun -- you'd barely uttered two word to your roomate since finding out her new training arrangements. Thus, you figured she'd suffered enough -- and so had you.

"I just don't see why you'd go to Imogen for training," you answered, a long sigh escaping as you spoke. Violet turned fully to you.

"I didn't -- she offered to train me. She said she knew about the challenges this week, and who I'd be fighting, and said I could probably use a few pointers so I wouldn't end up on my ass again," she explained. Your brows narrowed as you registered what she said.

"Wait -- you're telling me Imogen knows who's paired up today?"

Violet nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. She said a bunch of the second years would be matched with thirds this week."

That. Fucking. Bitch.

You turned slowly, your eyes narrowing.

"And, you didn't think to tell me this?"

Violet shrugged.

"Figured Garrick would, honestly. Imogen said he probably did tell you."

Your blood simmered beneath your skin. That ignorant, pink-haired, selfish-

"Next on the mat! Y/N Y/L/N, and Imogen Cardulo."

Emmetario's voice was white noise as all color leached from your face. Was he serious? If you were paired with Imogen, and she'd known all week...

You turned, searching for Garrick in the crowd. Your gaze found his, the top of his head visible over the heads of the other cadets. His brows furrowed in concern as he stared back at you, his line of sight faltering as a certain third year stepped onto the mat.

You glared as you stomped onto the mat as well, walking straight up to her.

"You knew all week?" You growled, and Imogen only answered you with a look of amusement. "You knew. You knew all fucking week we'd be challenging one another, and you told my best friend, but not me?"

She huffed a laugh.

"Please -- I only found out this morning we were paired up. But yeah, I knew I'd be challenging a second year no doubt." She would the tape tighter around her knuckles. Looking down, you realized you weren't wearing any. Imogen laughed cruelly, not even looking at you as she spoke.

"What, did your new boyfriend not bring you to the ring well-prepared?" Your gaze hardened, especially as she glanced up at you. "Oh wait -- he isn't, your boyfriend."

You took a deep breath, the rush of air doing nothing to cool your temper. You heard your name from behind you, and you turned just in time to see Garrick approaching the edge of the mat. He held out wrapping tape, and you eagerly made your way toward him.

He said nothing as he made quick work of the material, winding it tight around your palms.

"Remember what I taught you," he said softly. "I believe in you, Y/N. I trust that you'll apply your training here, today."

You waited as he finished securing the tape around your second hand, then you glanced up at him angrily.

"Yeah, like how I should've trusted that you'd tell me I'd be fighting Imogen today?" Your gut twisted, the words you'd accepted as truth spilling out. "No wonder you didn't, honestly; I already know you have a thing for her."

Garrick's eyes widened, and he gripped both of your shoulders as he looked into your eyes.

"No, Y/N you don't understand-"

"BEGIN!"

You yanked free of Garrick's grasp, leveling him with a glare before turning to face Imogen again. She inspected her nails as you strode toward her, not even taking a fighting stance as you drew closer.

Silly girl, you thought. The first punch you threw hit her in the gut, and she reared back a step before aligning her defenses. She coughed as she took her fighting pose, fists raised and eyes narrowed.

The next hit wasn't so lucky -- you threw a punchand missed, which gave the third year the opportunity to knee you in the ribs. You staggered froward, working to regain your balance as you wheezed, turning to face her ignorant, smiling face.

"You got one good hit on me, I'll give you that." She lunged, both arms wrapping your waist and sending you careening to the floor. The wind rushed from your lungs as she pinned you, her sneer mere inches from your face.

"You forget, second year, he trained me too."

This had you seeing red.

You jerked your hips, tossing her off of you as you went completely feral. Every move, every thrown punch, every swing -- it was all Garrick. She dodged a few of them, of course; but by the fourth or fifth attempt, your knuckles were connecting with her jaw and your foot was shoving against the backs of her knees. You'd wrestled her to the floor, yanking her hands behind her back. You bared your teeth as you tried twisting them, but the callous female only laughed.

"You really think this is going to make him want you?" She taunted, blood dripping from the inside of her mouth. "You really think he'll be impressed? I can assure you he'll never-"

You huffed a growl, driving your elbow between her shoulderblades. She cried out in pain, her words completely cut off.

"He's mine," you growled into her ear. "Haven't you gotten that by now?"

Imogen grunted, thrusting you off of her back and sending you to the floor. You scrambled, trying to regain your footing -- failing, as her boot connected with your ribs.

"Miss possessive -- I'm sure he'll love that," she sneered. Her foot kicked you again, and again, and soon enough she was atop you. Her fists flew at you, every breath escaping as you panted and gasped for air. Shouts sounded from behind you, and in the moment you did the only thing you could think of. Reaching up, you clasped both hands around her neck, squeezing hard. Her eyes widened as her face grew redder, her air supply cut off. Black spots clouded your vision as she continued her assault -- the last image you saw was your tatered, bloody bandages before your vision winked out.

✧･ﾟ: *

When you woke up, night had fallen. The first thing you saw was the crackling hearth across the room, moonlight streaming in from the window above. You swallowed, your throat so dry it fels as thouh it had been coated in a layer of sand -- and that's when you began to realize where you were.

Your hands lie atop black, cotton sheets -- the room was cold, save for the burning fire beyond. Shivering, you drew the blankets from you; on top, you wore a large shirt you'd never seen before, and on bottom... well...

Instantly your eyes widened. The single bed, the upscale dorm, the shirt -- you weren't in your dorm. You weren't even in your own clothes, for that matter. Glancing down at your hands, you spotted fresh bandage wraps; gone was the blood and gore from earlier. You glanced around frantically, pausing as the adjacent bathroom door opened.

"I changed the bandages while you were out," Garrick said, crossing through the doorway. The stream of light followed him out as he crossed the room, nearing your bedside. "How are you-"

Your clenched fist drew out from under the blankets, aiming right for his nose. He caught it in an open hand, his grip reawakening the pain in your knuckles. His brow furrowed as he tsked at you.

"Ah ah ah -- you don't want to do that," he reasoned, gently placing your hand atop the covers once more. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he only met you with a grin. "Besides, your hands are just beginning to heal."

"I don't want to be here right now." You said suddenly. Garrick sighed, running a hand through his hair. You hated the way your eyes followed the movement of his long digits.

"Y/N please, just let me explain-"

"Explain what?!" You said incredulously. "Explain how you knew I'd be fighting Imogen today? Explain how, you kept it from me because you have some sort of, I don't know... thing with her?"

Garrick chuckled shaking his head.

"That's not it at all, Y/N. I didn't know the two of you would be paired up, for starters. Even if I did, I would have kept it to myself to keep the fight fair," he reasoned. You scowled.

"No, you would've kept it to yourself so she'd have the upper hand." Rolling your eyes, you continued on. "Because you're in love with her or something-"

It all happened so fast, his hand gripping your throat, your head swilveling to face him. His lips crashed onto yours, demanding and punishing in the most delicious of ways. Your eyes widened as his mouth moved against yours, not quite believing what happened. A soft groan escaped as his fingers squeezed lightly around your throat, and at that he pulled back slowly. His eyes opened slowly, focusing on your face.

"I don't," he assured, his quiet voice loud in the otherwise silent room. "I don't love Imogen -- not like that."

You stared at him in shock, all 1000 emotions warring with one another inside of you. He gazed back, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

"I do however, have a thing, for you."

Your face flushed at his words as your breath abandoned you. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you again. You melted into him this time, listening as he mumbled softly against your mouth.

"Sorry -- this felt like the only thing I could do to get you to shut up for one second so I could explain myself." You giggled at that, arching your aching back as his hands slid around your waist and hugged you closer to him. You stayed silent as your head rested against his chest, his body repositioned to lay half on the bed with you. He sighed, his other hand stroking through your hair.

"How long have you known?" You asked. He knew what you meant, his chest rumbling as he laughed.

"Hmm.. maybe, a year ago?" You could hear the smirk in his tone. "You made it pretty obvious, Y/N."

You drew your head back, looking up at him in disbelief.

"You knew all this time that I liked you? And didn't do a damned thing about it?"

He shushed you, his fingers guiding your head to rest against his chest once again.

"Shhh, shh -- I'm doing something now, aren't I?"

You rolled your eyes, snuggling deeper into his chest. "Guess so."

After a few long minutes of silence, he spoke again.

"If we're going to make this work -- you're going to have to get over Imogen," he reasoned. "She's been my friend for a very long time, there's no getting rid of her." You huffed, closing your eyes.

"She likes you, Garrick." You complained, and he tilted your chin to look up at him again.

"And I, like you," he stated plainly. His lips kissed yours softly as he laid you back down.

You grumbled. "Just don't let your friend beat the shit out of me again."

He cackled at this.

"From what I hear, you did a number on her too."

Your focus faded in and out, sleep soon consuming you as the night stretched on. Garrick could have all the friends he wanted, you supposed -- as long as they kept their hands, off your man.

✧･ﾟ: *

[genderqueerdykes]

In a weird way, it feels like this is the only blog I can ask this and know that I'll get a 100% honest answer to my question, without having to worry about reading subtext. (Thank you for that) you've mentioned you don't want man hating lesbians here (valid) and if that applies here I'll back off 100% but like.

What if I specifically hate Cishet men. What if I don't take issue with queer men at all, just the cishets? Geunine question, just in case, because I know this could read as like trolling or something, and I do understand that basic language dictates yes it'd apply but I'm stupid & not sure, and I know that even if it's a harsh or brutal reply, you'll still give it to me straight. (Thank you for that too, my autistic ass struggles with subtext a lot.)

While I have reasons for feeling the way I do, I'm not sure they matter in this context. And that's okay.

i'm glad that you want to have a genuine conversation about it, i really appreciate that! the only way to learn and figure things out is to ask questions

at the end of the day, this behavior still affects queer men. cishet men can be queer- they can be intersex, aromantic, asexual, genderqueer, gender non conforming, drag artists... "cishet man" does not inherently mean someone who is not queer. there are many ways to be queer outside of being gay, bisexual, and/or trans. and even then, this behavior gets dangerous fast because strangers you perceive to be cishet men very well can be anything but that. someone you clock to be a cishet man may be a closeted trans girl, a trans man, a non binary person, a butch lesbian, and so on. you treating that person like they're an inherent danger causes a whole host of issues

this attitude is also why trans men, trans women, and non binary people are being forcefully removed from queer communities. if a queer person reads or passes as a "cishet man," they are treated with hostility and asked to leave in a lot of cases. we cannot allow the concept of manhood and perceived manhood to be viewed as something to be avoided and cast out, because it affects so much more than just cishet men. this attitude affects a LOT of closeted and non-passing trans women. honestly, that's who this hurts the most. it hurts trans men and enbies, but it really hurts trans women. it creates a standard where they have to overperform femininity and womanhood in order to be seen as "safe", and it's not okay.

projecting your issues with a small handful of people on to an entire group does not help. you have not been harmed by the concept of cishet men- you have been harmed by specific cishet men. in permanently labeling cishet men as bad people, this creates an ultimatum where they can never improve. hating them by virtue of them being cishet men creates a standard that cishet men will ALWAYS be terrible, and that they can't improve or learn. this creates an environment where no one challenges these behaviors and it makes the cycle even more toxic and abusive

it's okay to not want to spend time with cishet men, but saying that you hate all cishet men really isn't a good look. it's not the way to go about living a happy life. assuming that every single cishet man on this planet will hurt you or be a bad person strictly by virtue of being a cishet man is exactly what cishets do to us. this is how queerphobic cishet people look at trans women. there's no reason to do it back. we have to learn not to stereotype entire groups of people, no matter who they are

the concept of cishet men has never hurt you, and it never will. cishet men are not your enemy- patriarchy is. not every single cishet man benefits from patriarchy, either. intersex men, men of color, gender non conforming men, ace men and aro men are treated like absolute shit for not conforming to the toxic masculinity that patriarchy pushes. patriarchy also harms men- we must stand alongside men who are being chewed up and spat out by this machine. cishet men are not inherently bad people- we are grooming boys and men to be hostile, emotionally closed off, and violent. this is not an inherent trait of cishet men, but rather a societal issue

i hope that makes sense! in general it just really sucks to stereotype an entire group of people. it doesn't help anyone. the concept of cishet manhood hasn't hurt you and it never will. cishet men can still be allies. i've had lots of cishet male friends who weren't transphobic or even homophobic. the first person in my irl life to switch to using my proper pronouns at the time was a cishet man. he never screwed up my pronouns once, he never questioned my gender identity. cishet man does not mean inherently violent, dangerous, and evil. the more we teach men that they don't have to be this way, the more they will follow.

hope that helps! take care!

[caturdwy]

ok, i don't know why i wrote this, i'm not even a ford girl, i'm a stanley girlie all the way. but this image came to me yesterday and i had to write it down, so i spent my entire class working on this. it's not finished but i don't now if i'm gonna write more. here goes nothing

pairing: stanford pines x reader

warnings: smut (?), definitely sexual. 18+, mdni

word count: 1.5k

"Is that why Stanley calls you Sixer?" You ask, breaking the silence.

Your voice gets him out of his trance, but not early enough for him to actually hear what you asked. "Huh?"

"Is that why Stanley calls you Sixer?" You repeat yourself, pointing one finger at his hands.

He lets out a laugh and nods. "Yeah, he's so creative with the nicknames." He answers, voice full of sarcasm.

"Can I touch it?" You ask, finger still pointing at his left hand, the closest to you. "Your hand, can I touch it?"

He blushes and tugs at the collar of his sweater, voice faint. "Uh, yes."

You take your hand off your thighs and touch the back of his, feather light touch as to not scare him off. You observe attentively his reaction, checking if he will wince or take it away from you. Since he stays still, you take it as a sign to continue.

You grip his hand firmly, not harshly, and pull it closer to you. His gaze follows your every move, cheeks still a bit flushed, and he swallows dry. You start to touch just his fingers, pinching his phalanxes and moving them around before pressing on them and hearing them pop. His eyes grow a bit when you do it, not expecting you to do that.

You linger a bit more on his extra pinky, still fascinated. You touch it a bit differently, and wonder if you should ask anything about it.

"May I ask you a question?" You say out loud. Well, it doesn't hurt to try.

"Yes, go on." He speaks, still watching you closely.

"Is it ever a hindrance? Like, does it work like every other finger?" You ask, still with your hands focused on popping said finger.

"No, it's never a hindrance. It works just like the rest of my hand." He replies, pulling his hand away from your touch. He wiggles his fingers, moving every phalanx to show you, and then he lifts only his extra little finger and does the same thing. "See? Full control."

You let out a smile, finding it fascinating. It's at the very least interesting. Unusual. You like it. But you also can't help how your mind goes straight to the gutter.

You can't jump on this too fast, or you'll startle him. So you put your hands back on his and pull it closer to you, like it was before.

Stanford smiles back at you, a little awkward, sure, but you can see his flattery.

"Very interesting. Must be useful." You utter.

Meanwhile, your grip on his hand gets stronger, and you use both your thumbs to squeeze his skin, pressing on spots that are usually stiff.

"It doesn't make that much of a difference. My niece, however, always says it's friendlier than a regular handshake."

You let out a little laugh while pressing your thumbs on the back of his hands, paying attention to the tendons. You hear Ford suck in a breath once you hit what is apparently the right spot. "That's adorable."

"Yeah." He agrees mindlessly, but he's not really here. He's a bit distracted, hopefully enjoying the massage. "Yeah, she's adorable."

You change your focus from the back of his hand to the palm, going straight to the spot where his thumb meets the rest, the thenar area. He hisses a bit and you stop for a second, looking at his face to check if this was still okay. You can confidently say he was more than okay, because he has his eyes closed and the face of someone who was enjoying the situation. His back was not as stiff now and had a little arch to it as his shoulders leaned in towards your touch.

You do this to the entirety of his palm, running your thumbs on the soft spot on the middle of it, pressing on the flesh of his fingers, the side of his hand, dragging all the way to to the area of his carpals. The more you press and massage, the more he relaxes. Depending on what you do you even get an approvingly hum, almost a little moan. Of course these are the things you do again and again, just to hear him make any noise.

At last, you move his wrist in little circles, improving the circulation on the area before pressing both the dorsal and ventral areas. You give the back of his hand a little kiss before placing it on his thigh again, and point to his right, the farthest away from you.

It takes him a moment to register, his brain wrapped around a fog of calmness and relaxation. He's never felt like this before, he's never gotten a massage in his life, much less in his hand. And oh boy, how bad did he need it. He didn't even know his muscles could get that stiff, hold on to that much stress. A lifetime of stress, really. With just simple strokes of your own hands, that was all gone, vaporized. He's so out of it he doesn't even blush when you kiss his hand.

He lifts his right hand and shifts on the bed, figuring out a position that would be more comfortable to stretch his arm out, but still manageable for you to keep doing the sorcery you were doing. You keep following the same procedure, pop the phalanxes first, run your thumbs on the back of his hand, then go the palm, rub the thenar area out, press on the soft spot on the middle, massage the muscles on his fingers, the works.

The more you touch him, the more he relaxes, the more he lets himself go. He's feeling so light he can almost lift off the ground. If he lays on the bed he is sure he'll never be able to leave, the mattress and him becoming one. You think about saying something, but nothing comes out, not when he looks so good like this, all relaxed. Possibly the first time he's actually relaxed in his entire life.

After you are almost done you decide it's time to speak up. "Hey, Ford."

"Hmmmm." He purrs, not bothering looking up at you.

"Do you know what this makes me think?" You ask right after giving a kiss on the same spot you did the other hand. However, you don't let it go. You keep holding it, rubbing little circles on his skin.

"Hmmmm?" He hums again, but this time tries to voice the end like a question. This prompts a tiny laugh from you.

Now's the moment, he has his guard down. You move your body carefully closer to him, placing your face near his ear. Ford can feel his warm breath on the side of his face, the skin almost burning from the sudden heat. You pull out the sexiest voice you can make and whisper lowly, like a secret and he's the only person meant to hear.

"It makes me think of how good this extra finger would feel grabbing my ass."

He nearly chokes out, being pulled from his half-dreaming state and slammed back into reality, the blood split between rushing to his face or his lower belly, straight to his dick. He takes in a sharp breath, eyes opening and growing twice the size they usually are. You give him a little giggle from the reaction, finding it a bit funnier than it should be.

With all of his attention on you now, you place yourself a bit farther from him and bring the hand you're holding to your eye view, right in front of you face. You wait for him to look you in the eyes and put his thumb on your hot tongue. He jolts at the movement, but doesn't push back. You close your lips around it and suck it all the way to the back of your mouth. When you swallow everything, you circle your tongue around his skin while dragging it out of your mouth, little by little.

Stanford feels like his body is burning. Someone might as well have drowned him in gas and set fire to it. Once your tongue leaves his finger, he feels the cooling sensation the of the air coming in contact with your saliva and his dick gets incredibly harder.

He didn't want to react this way, he really didn't. Stanley hired you as a bad joke and he was not pleased about it, but hell. He can't not be turned on when you look at him like that, lips shiny and wet, breath hot on the skin of his hand, fingers still holding him by the wrists.

When he opens his mouth to say something, you catch him off guard again by kissing his index finger. Then his middle finger, all the way to his extra pinky, which you also suck while looking at him straight in the eyes. But he's weak, so while you're still halfway done putting the thing in your mouth he closes his eyes, trying to calm down the turmoil of feelings raging inside him.

You take his finger out of your mouth and it makes a wet, loud 'pop'. You give yourself a proud smile and lick the extra saliva off your own lips, bringing your body closer to his again. In the sultriest voice you can pull off, you whisper on his ear again. "How does that sound, Mr. Pines?"

[tritoch]

why doesn't venat tell the convocation?

one thing you'll see come up from time to time: why does venat, the largest ancient, not simply eat the other sorry wrong notes. Why does Venat, who has access to time-loop knowledge, not simply tell the Convocation what she knows and try to fight the Final Days in her time?

it's an understandable question: why wouldn't you want to change the future, if you know what comes to pass? Answering this question does a lot to flesh out our understanding of the Ancients, as well as Venat herself, in fun ways. It also highlights the heightened tonal register FFXIV operates in where the Ancients are involved. Most crucially, it confirms that your ultimate victory in Endwalker is not due to time loop predestination, but because of the collective efforts of everyone along the way.

all quotes, as ever, sourced from xiv.quest (except for some stuff from the very end of myths of the realm which i pulled from gamerescape). spoilers through endwalker follow.

(post-completion edit: this got insanely out of hand and way too long and it's honestly not even very insightful. you were warned.)

The way I see it, there are two broad versions of this question: First, why doesn't Venat warn the Ancients about the Final Days? And second, why doesn't she reach out to the Convocation and try to nip it in the bud?

To start with, let's get the answer straight from the source:

Venat cannot tell the Ancients generally because she cannot trust that they will not panic. No judgment should be taken as unquestionable, obviously, but Venat is a nigh-immortal scholar and researcher who also did a long stint as traveling counselor and savior and friendly neighborhood video game protagonist, who repeatedly and fervently declaims her love of the people of the world and her belief in their ability to surmount any obstacle if they simply find the strength within themselves. She has also, in-fiction, seen the wider world unsundered. Our exposure to the Ancients, on the other hand, is: her; the ruling council of their people, turned evil dimension-hopping wizards; a slice of particularly detached academics in a mad science lab (comedy version); a slice of particularly detached academics in a mad science lab (horror version). That's it! And of course, the revelation of the Final Days ultimately does result in panic and a series of increasingly drastic measures. While we only have her reasoning to go off of on this one, I don't know that there's any evidence that goes firmly against her reading of the situation.

As to the Convocation, she's right: the first time Hermes got the full picture of the Final Days, he immediately turned against you and tried to wipe your memories to prevent you from using your knowledge to stop them before they start. And that's really bad, because Hermes isn't just pretty important to stopping the Final Days: without the benefit of time-loop knowledge, he's the guy who draws the conclusion that connects the Final Days to the celestial currents of aether!

"Having shed light upon the phenomenon, he dedicated to himself to devising a countermeasure. Were it not for [Hermes's] knowledge of the celestial, we would never have made the connection—and thence forestalled the Final Days." Elidibus strongly implies here that Hermes is the guy who conceived of the Zodiark plan in the first place, or at least came up with the the mechanism by which Zodiark could actually use aether to protect Etheirys.

Hermes is a guy you absolutely have to have on your team if you're going to respond to the Final Days, because he is not just the guy who knows about dynamis. He is also, as far as we know, the only Ancient with a meaningful knowledge of outer space and celestial currents. Meteion herself is pretty explicitly parallel to a prototype space probe, a first-of-her-kind interstellar traveler. Given that the Ancients use magical concepts for seemingly nearly all their technology (there sure is a lot of stuff going on with crystals, I'll grant...but crystals are just aether, sometimes with concepts inscribed in them!), he is the closest thing they have to an aerospace engineer.

Space in FFXIV is obviously weird (no one's wearing a helmet on the moon, Midgardsormr flies through it, etc.), but nonetheless we know that space travel is difficult, and Hermes highlights in his explanation that Etheirys is unusually rich in aether while aether is much rarer in space generally. And we can surmise no one before him devised a way for the extremely aether-dense Ancients to travel and survive in space, or presumably that would have informed his own designs and he wouldn't have had to turn to under-researched dynamis. And we know no one worked with him on Meteion or understands anything about all the dynamis and, celestial currents stuff; Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch tell us as much.

Hermes might not be the literal only Ancient with knowledge of these things, but he is certainly the most knowledgeable, seemingly by a long shot. There is plenty of reason to believe the Ancients, while they have godlike power on Etheirys, don't have a huge body of working physics information. For example, the discovery and use of magnetism in creations was the signature achievement of Hermes' immediate predecessor as Fandaniel, per a Ktisis readable.

So you need Hermes, and cannot afford the possibility of losing him. Even with the benefit of the Warrior of Light's future knowledge, not having Hermes would fatally undermine any efforts by the Ancients to combat the Final Days—not only in terms of identifying which areas were likely to be affected, but also in terms of creating and implementing Zodiark, and with respect to any hypothetical "Ancients go to the edge of the universe to fight Meteion" plan.

That kind of full-spectrum involvement makes him only more dangerous. Sure, maybe you can approach the Convocation and convince them (and I'm not so sure of that: one of their members is there when you explain all this, after all, and he vehemently rejects the possibility right up until the moment the time-loop starts!), but how can you ever be safe with Hermes on board? Worse, what if this time he doesn't announce his betrayal? What's to stop him from building a flaw into Zodiark, or any one of the other plans along the way?

Well, but set the problem of Hermes aside for a second: why not approach other Convocation members? Aside from the information security concerns with Hermes, there's the fact that she already has some advance intel on that options. First, Emet-Selch already heard and experienced all these revelations, and he vehemently denied and rejected them. The only reason he ended up cooperative through the events of Ktisis is because "get to Hermes and stop Meteion" fulfills both your goals. You're literally out the door on your way to start the time loop post-Kairos and he's like "I still don't believe your future visions by the way! But if it's true then don't fuck it up!"

Second, if what you told her is true, Venat already has reason to believe Azem might not be willing to side with her. After all, one of the only pieces of knowledge you were able to pull directly from the records of the past is that even with 75% of the Ancient population sacrificed and preparations for the third sacrifice underway, Azem would not reply to the Anamnesis Anyder faction.

So she has good reason to believe her successor might not be willing to side with her, and she knows that successor's bestie will definitely counsel against trusting these future visions.

But what if she just shows them her memories and past events via the Echo? After all, reconstructing past events is a key part of your adventures in Elpis in the first place!

Venat can probably share her memories via Echo vision, but there's no reason to think that would work: after all, Emet-Selch was already there for most of these events and was still skeptical the whole way through. Plus, at that point you're really still just relying on Venat's testimony. Additional memory evidence certainly has some corroborating effect, it's not unimpeachable, particularly given the problem of Kairos. Hermes, Emet-Selch, and Hythlodaeus will all have memories that contradict Venat's because Kairos doesn't just erase memories, it straight up alters them.

But why not do the CSI crime scene reconstruction thing? Well, as Venat notes, those memories are prone to fading, and are etched on the aether of the world the same way memories are on the soul. So assuming, you were perfectly lucky and none of the aether got too altered by other events, you could reconstruct what happened from the moment Meteion connects to the hive mind . . . right up until everyone enters Ktisis Hyperboreia. Kairos functions by overwriting the memories etched into aether with yet more aether, and given that it targeted not just the group in the final room but the entirety of Ktisis Hyperboreia, it has presumably substantially altered whatever aetherial ripples remained of the day's events. Consider that if it's blotting out multiple days worth of memory over a large area (Ktisis Hyperboreia is a full-on spatial anomaly, after all), our only comparable event in lore is the Seventh Umbral Calamity. That's a lot of aether! Kairos moots any attempt to employ memory reconstruction as evidence.

So you can't tell everyone because they'll panic; you can't tell the Convocation because Hermes is untrustworthy; you can't tell the Convocation without Hermes because there's no point in recruiting the Convocation without Hermes because his expertise is what you actually need; even if you did want the Convocation without Hermes, there's reasons to believe that would go poorly; and you can't use the Echo to help you win them over because the well on memory-as-evidence is already poisoned thanks to Hermes inventing Kairos.

A brief interlude on the possibility of the Ancients getting to and fighting Meteion. Links to sources only because this post is already stupid long. Okay, pretend we perfectly secure Hermes on-side and rally all the Ancients. After making Zodiark early thanks to Venat's warning, the remaining 50% of the population sets to work on the problem of space travel to Ultima Thule. It'll be a lengthy process, since devising the propulsion systems of the moon took the Loporrits six thousand years, but sure, it's not like lifespan is a big issue for the Ancients. Then there's the matter of having enough energy to get there; Hydaelyn accumulates the aether of the Mothercrystal for over twelve thousand years to make that happen. But maybe we shortcut that with human sacrifice again. Okay, we've flown a spaceship full of Ancients to Ultima Thule. They can't do anything here because the dynamis is too thick for aether to do anything. Your allies can only reshape the reality of Ultima Thule to allow aether-based life to exist via dynamis in the first place. The Ancients themselves seem largely unable to interact with dynamis. Any familiars or entelechies they could try to use against Meteion would probably be overwhelmed by the transformative power of her own critical mass of dynamis. Probably your best bet is to send in wave after wave of Ancients to die in a delaying action while Hermes in the way way back with a megaphone tries to persuade Meteion to chill out? Part of the whole Endwalker thing is that the Warrior of Light's victory is an incredible piece of luck enabled by a whole host of actions both intentional and accidental. The thing about miraculous victories is they're miraculous because they were otherwise exceedingly unlikely!

"Well," one might ask, "shouldn't there still be something she can do? Couldn't she reach out to trusted friends to share this information and work to stop the Final Days and persuade the Convocation without accidentally reconnecting Hermes to the knowledge that caused this problem in the first place?" And the answer is: Yes, that's what she does! It just doesn't go great and results in the creation of Hydaelyn!

As you are departing, Venat confirms to you that she will try to find a different way to resist the Final Days. She also tells you that she will not take for granted that the future you have told her will come to pass, and will simply do her best to try to fight the Final Days.

We have a good sense of the results of her efforts because her closest and most trusted allies are left behind as the Twelve and the Watcher. Rhalgr and Oschon were literally just fellow travelers she met during his journeys. Nald'thal was a merchant. Nophica was a landscape architect. Probably the most outwardly accomplished members of their number were Halone (candidate for the seat of Pashtarot), Thaliak (brilliant university president), and Menphina (brilliant university student). They were, sometimes literally, just some guys she found by the side of the road.

The truth is that Venat's message and efforts were simply not that popular in the unsundered world. We see her efforts to reach the people, conveyed allegorically, in the Thou Must Live, Die, and Know cutscene: her appeal to the better natures of her countrymen fails. They cannot be deterred from their path of sacrificing the lives of others for their own comfort.

The result of Venat's best work to rally the world against the Final Days, outside the auspices of the Convocation, is the Anyder faction. And the Anyder faction, though it makes its case to the Convocation and to others, ultimately cannot win enough people over to shake the Convocation from its intentions.

The Ancient world in FFXIV often operates in a heightened register. From the name references that invoke Greek mythology and Utopia to aesthetic elements like their theatrical masks and genre-breaking art deco architecture, the game takes pains to emphasize how otherworldly the Ancients are. This helps make their stories work emotionally. Emet-Selch and Elidibus and Lahabrea are personally responsible for six worldwide genocides, plus countless other associated sins. Even in the already heightened fantasy world of FFXIV, trying to take their stories semi-seriously would break them down. Instead, the game uses a number of cues (Emet-Selch's dramatic nature and taste for literary allusion help considerably here, as does the English localization consciously adopting slightly archaic language) to indicate to the player that the Ancients' story is being told in an epic register, that they are a fairy tale, that their story is a creation myth.

Being a fairy tale or myth means that things can be narratively true about the Ancients which would otherwise not work in FFXIV, a story which tends to shoot for some degree of psychological verisimilitude. A person can survive untold millennia as the only remaining sane member of their people, retain their sanity, and never waver in their mission or crack under the pressure. Three-quarters of the world rising up to spontaneously sacrifice themselves out of love and kindness and a belief in the value of the natural world. In Hermes' case, we are literally directly shown and told, by both magical empathic bird-girl and magical mood ring flower, that he is literally not just the Saddest Man in Elpis, but the Only Sad Man in Elpis. People often poke at this point reflexively ("Why doesn't Hermes go to therapy?"), but his despair is not just all-encompassing and overwhelming. It is literally inexplicable and unfamiliar to the Ancients around him.

Similarly, Venat, actual wandering superhero and benevolent demiurge possessed of an inexhaustible love for humanity and surpassing skill in every field, scours the earth and comes up with just thirteen people (or like, them plus a few) who are willing to stand against the Convocation. Venat does use her time-loop knowledge to spur on a parallel effort to fight off the Final Days. It doesn't work because the Convocation's plans not only have the weight of formal authority behind them, but because the Ancients overwhelmingly did not want to accept their losses, form a plan of action, and fight back. They wanted to undo their pain and suffering now, as fast as possible, and damn the consequences or whatever other lives it cost. If this feels unrealistically emotionally extreme, that's par for the course for the tone of the narrative around the Ancients.

The truth is Venat was just doing the best she could with the knowledge she had and the understanding she had of the arena she was in. She doesn't end up forming the Twelve and sundering the world because she heard about it from the Warrior of Light—the Warrior of Light comes from a world in which she formed the Twelve and sundered the world because that is what she always already would have done in this situation.

We can surmise as much from how the time loop works across the rest of the game: even though there is always at least one person in the timeline who knows about the time loop, events always play out in a way that requires other people to exercise their free will, and those choices end up aligning with the time loop even absent the knowledge of the future. Either the Warrior of Light or Venat (also Fandaniel, now that I think about it, but I don't know of any meaningful insights to glean from that) is aware of the possibility of the time loop at all times: she knows about it from Elpis onward, then shows up in the boat at the start of Endwalker to say "hey fyi you're entering the Time Loop Zone," then you end up in the past with future knowledge of stuff up until you hit the time loop reset point and the whole thing starts again. But in the game through Endwalker, that knowledge never controls events; you and Hydaelyn are only ever individuals on a board with many players, and much of making the time loop work ultimately relies on the Ascians, a group we can definitely say both lacks time loop knowledge (except, again, Fandaniel) and is actively working to frustrate Hydaelyn's ends. On a broader thematic note, consider Zenos: he's ultimately crucial to your victory, and he's a complete wild card whose most important actions you could not possibly have told Venat about because they only happen after your return from Elpis. You don't win because you are predestined to win. You win because many people collectively take small actions which happen to, luckily, line up with ultimate victory.

The Elpis time loop only functions because of countless and almost entirely unknowing large and small actions by more or less every character in the game, and results from and is defined by those actions, rather than structuring and defining those actions. It's not that Venat, armed with knowledge of the future, chooses the time loop instead of averting the Final Days. It's that the time loop results from and incorporates a future-influenced Venat doing everything she can to avert the Final Days.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen act with their writer s/o

requested by anon ^^

masterlist

seungcheol

he is begging. he is on his knees BEGGING you to pls let him buy you a new laptop because the one you use is literally on its last legs and makes ominous sputtering n whirring sounds like a dying cat stuck in a vent every time you start it up. you don't let him tho bc “no cheol the memories :(((“ cuz you've had it for years but he is nearing the end of his tether and who knows. in a few days ur laptop may mysteriously disappear forever and you'll be forced to let him buy a new one

jeonghan

he's like the pet cat you don't own who likes to slink into the room and make inquisitive noises as he watches you work. drapes himself over your shoulders and makes distressed huffs when you try to dislodge him. he's never usually noticeably clingy, but when you try to write, the clinginess always springs out and you can't go five minutes without jeonghan poking his head into the room to check up on you and see what you're up to

joshua

your biggest fan. buys every single novel you write, puts on his glasses, and reads them very seriously in one go on the very evening it's released with the lamp on beside him. he looks so serious every time, but he'll always peer at you over his glasses and then give you a big grin, telling you how much he loves it. gets you to sign a copy for him and brags to everyone he knows that he has your signed novels with special messages just for him that no one else can have

junhui

he's your personal general knowledge bank. when you're searching up obscure things and slowly losing hope on finding an answer, just ask junhui and he'll either a) know the answer or b) knows someone who knows someone else who knows someone else else who knows the answer. don't ask him how to spell words tho bc he's like. hopelessly bad. blinks at you going “what's an [insert word]” before you give up and google it yourself

hoshi

alwaysssss wants to know what you're working on right now. gets all whiny when you get possessive of your work and refuse to show him before it's finished bc come on, it's surely perfect already, why are you trying to hide it from him?? loves helping you do, like, the non writing stuff. writing out plot? nooo. building fantasy maps, figuring out political systems, getting lost on a tangent on figuring out the price of beans in the 1800s? hell yeah sign him up!!! 

wonwoo

knows all the grammar rules in the world. you can ask him stuff like “hey wonwoo can i put a comma here or no” and he'll amble over to peer over your shoulder and tell you whether you can or cannot, in fact, put a comma there. helps you curate all your writing playlists for the different moods you have. gently reminds you to get back to writing whenever you end up scrolling on instagram for too long

woozi

you're even more of a workaholic than he is when in the zone, so he gets to realise how unhealthy it is to be sat in front of a computer for hours straight with no break. you get to act as each other's “let's act like a normal human being now” reminders, depending on which of you is going through a work fixation. you guys both go on runs together in the mornings even though it kills you bc at least it gets both of yo brains kickstarted to spend a day being all creative in ur respective fields

minghao

you value his opinion above anyone else's. above your beta reader's, above your agent's, even above your editor's bc those are more like advice, not opinions. but knowing that minghao likes your work, and knowing which parts in particular he really likes, is so important to you because ultimately, you want the person you love to also love the things that you create. 

mingyu

brings up the fact that you're a writer in every conversation he has with anyone ever. “oh my god look, this menu has writing on it. speaking of writing, my s/o writes actual books as a job!!!!”. your agent made him sign a contract similar to an NDA bc he just keeps yapping about your books even when they haven't been released yet. loves the noises you make whilst you're writing. thinks it's the cutest thing ever when you make overjoyed “AHA!!” sounds when you finally realise what the plot is doing

dokyeom

more than willing to be your rubber duck and let you talk at him until u figure out your own plot holes. he could be in his room scrolling on his phone but the minute you call for him, he's leaping up and bounding over to you and pulling up a chair in an instant, more than willing to let you bounce ideas off him. sits there doing nothing but looking all pretty as you talk at him and work out the tangle you've gotten yourself into. beams and gives you a big kiss when you manage to figure it all out. 

seungkwan

he buys you a biiiig wheely whiteboard and a bunch of coloured board pens to help you plot your novels. when you get stuck, he comes over and stares at the board with his hands on his hips, very gravely considering your dilemma and what would be the best way to get you out of it. you two talk about plot holes like it's the most serious thing in the world and he just nods like a proud father once you both find a solution

vernon

at this point he's like. a professional tea and coffee and biscuits supplier due to the amount of snack runs he does for you. has walked in on you lying face down on the floor during a meltdown one too many times to bat an eye anymore. also great at helping you block out actions during scenes like. he's the perfect doll. lets you maneuver him into the weirdest positions in the world with zero complaints. he just loves helping you however he can, really. 

chan

reads through your drafts whilst you're in the middle of writing, accidentally gets hooked and is begging you every day to finish the novel bc he really wants to know what happens next. he's the best at spotting inconsistencies and plot holes in ur writing so before you even send it off to your beta reader, he gets to have his hands on the manuscript to check for any changes needed. also bc he needs to read the ending asap otherwise he'll probably combust. 

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @kikohao @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @suraandsugar @pan-de-seungcheol @dokyeomkyeom @melodicrabbit @bananabubble

[mcflymemes]

THE MUMMY (1999) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!

by the way... why did you kiss me?

it seemed like a good idea at the time.

that's called stealing, you know.

is it dangerous?

stop it! you'll kill them!

get me a glass of bourbon.

this just keeps getting better and better.

this door doesn't open.

who opened that chest?

i only want four!

the map! i forgot the map!

i think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. i don't like him one bit.

i guess we go home empty-handed... again.

look what i got.

i think you found something.

what exactly is this man in prison for?

you just got promoted.

you're with me on this one, right?

keep him busy.

we are in serious trouble.

this creature is the bringer of death.

you must not read from the book!

where are they taking him?

there's only one person i know that can possibly give us any answers.

can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of flimflam?

i'm a very lonely man.

look at my library!

you're gonna get yours, [name]!

never did like camels.

what do you suppose killed him?

time to go.

take my hand, and i will spare your friends.

will you look at that?

do they know something we don't?

i need a new job.

have you no respect for the dead?

i've dreamt about this since i was a little girl.

you dream about dead guys?

patience is a virtue.

any last requests?

loosen the knot and let me go.

i don't think we need to know this.

ooh... that's gotta hurt.

you... i just don't get.

you probably won't live through it.

everybody else we've bumped into has died. why not you?

you're wondering... what is a place like me doing in a girl like this?

yeah, i was there.

can you swim?

of course we don't let him go!

you'll be dead when they do this.

i think i'll kill you.

think of my children.

i only gamble with my life, never my money.

i may not be an explorer or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker or a gunfighter, but i am proud of what i am.

give me frogs! flies! locusts! anything but you!

compared to you, the other plagues were a joy.

i am so very sorry. it was an accident.

you are a catastrophe.

oh my god, i hate it when these things do that.

is he supposed to look like that?

of course i can swim, if the occasion calls for it.

now, because of you, we have failed.

you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?

what did you say?

i don't want to tell you.

let me get this straight.

you don't have any children.

you lied to me.

i lie to everybody.

what makes you so special?

sorry. didn't mean to scare you.

the only thing that scares me are your manners.

have you got any bright ideas?

i'm thinking. i'm thinking!

you'd better think of something fast.

what are we going to do?

wait here! i'll go get help!

i thought you said you didn't believe in all this fairy tales and hokum stuff.

forget it! we're out the door, we're down the hall, and we're gone!

i told you not to play around with that thing.

you heard the man. no mortal weeapons can kill this guy.

listen! we've got to do something!

is that my problem?

i appreciate you saving my life and all, but when i signed on, i agreed to take you out there and bring you back. end of job, end of story, contract terminated.

that's all i am to you? a contract?

you can either tag along with me or stay here and try to save the world.

do something!

you know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.

what's the challenge then?

rescue the damsel in distress, kill the bad guy, and save the world.

death is only the beginning.

why are you going back?

i'm going downstairs to get me a drink. you want something?

[tinfoil-jones]

Question:why is Jerk Ford like this? From what I understand nobody seemed to have bullied him at all so did he just come out of the womb and thought "I'm gonna be a menace to everyone and everything"? That would be so funny-

There's a lot of reasons why the other Fords hate Jerk Ford.

Like, a lot of reasons. You don't get called "Jerk Ford" for no reason.

But one of those reasons is that any given version Stanford Pines is going to be defined by his scientific curiosity, and interest in finding the answers to mysteries.

The frustrating thing about Jerk Ford? They cannot, for the life of them, figure out why he's such a jerk. There's no real answer and they hate that.

Nothing particularly bad ever happened to him compared to other versions of himself. Bill didn't traumatize him, he got over any feelings of betrayal from his brother, he was mean to people before they could try to bully him as a kid, and Fiddleford never started a cult.

He's not even evil. He doesn't want to kill people, take over the world, or even be renowned in the scientific community. He just wants to be a petty b***h to everyone.

And he doesn't lack empathy. No, he has empathy, but what makes him a jerk is that he chooses not to use it.

Guilt, doubt, shame, and fear are just words to him.

Canon Ford? Canon Ford hears about him for the first time and asks himself "Surely he can't be that bad? He's just another me at the end of the day." And then it turned out, he really was that bad. So I don't think they would have interacted much. I do imagine this exchange happened, however:

Canon Ford: Why are you SUCH A JERK? Jerk Ford: This can't be the first time you've looked into a mirror.

A physical fight is possible; the MAB-3L dimension from Lost Legends showed several alternate versions of Mabel interact without destroying the dimension, so we're gonna act like 'you'll collapse the entire dimension if you interact with an alternate you' isn't a thing. However, Jerk Ford is a hater, not a fighter. His mouth is always writing checks the rest of him can't cash. Canon Ford could absolutely beat his a** if he wasn't so good at getting under your skin and escaping when you're too upset to pin him down.

And Jerk Ford has always been like this. He was like this growing up. He was like this straight out of the womb. Even as a baby he was a jerk, he'd be that baby who would cry on an airplane flight just to stop as soon as the flight ended.

Stan has never known his twin brother to be any different, he knows he's a jerk to everyone except him, so he tries to minimize the damage. He insists that even though Jerk Ford is an a**hole, he does care he just struggles to show it. But no one so far has believed him, not even their family.

Hell, the reason Filbrick didn't kick Stanley out this time around is because Jerk Ford told him "You know, without Stanley around, I don't have any reason to hold back."

"Hold back? You're the biggest menace in all of Glass Shard Beach, and you expect me to believe you've been holding back?"

"Are you going to take that risk, Pa?"

(He didn't take the risk, they'd been banned from so many places already because of Jerk Ford)

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Just you and me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, fluff, a little bit of everything

Background: You, Carlos and Charles are at a Ferrari event. You came with your longtime best friend Carlos, and Charles brought with him the girl he's currently seeing, even though he's not really interested in anyone else but you. You and Charles have liked each other ever since you met, but you've never gotten into anything serious. You were always seeing other people on the side and that was fine for both of you until you realized that you fell for him.

Y/n's pov

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Carlos asks kneeling down in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" He asks again noticing another tear roll down my face.

I honestly don't want to talk to him right now. I don't wanna talk to anybody. I feel pathetic because I'm letting myself feel this way again over a guy. It's humiliating. But it's not Charles' fault. It's no one's fault but mine. I should be in control of my own feelings but here I am yet again letting my mood depend on others. It seems that the more you resist certain things, the more they hurt.

"Look at me." Carlos says lifting up my chin making me look at him but I quickly look away.

"I'd really appreciate if you could leave me be with myself right now."

"I will if you tell me who made you cry?" He takes off his blazer and wraps it around me.

"I made myself cry." I sob putting my palms over my face. I can't wait to look myself in the mirror and see black mascara all over my face. Luckily the amount of alcohol in my system tells me to not give a shit about it.

"Why you two do this to each other, I'll never understand." He sighs.

"He went home with her?" I dare to ask even though I'm not sure if I want to hear the answer.

"She wasn't feeling well so he took her home, but-"

"There you are, fuck I'm looking-"

Charles. He took her home, but he'll be back. Feeling of relief and feeling of anger are fighting inside of me when I see him.

Without saying a word, Carlos stands up and leaves us alone on the terrace. I immediately stand up and head after Carlos not wanting to look at Charles, but before I can leave he tightly grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.

"Let go." I say through my teeth.

"No." He says coldly not breaking the eye contact. "What's wrong? Are you crying because I left with her?"

I laugh at his question. How dares he? "Crying because of you? You're not worthy of that, Charles." I obviously lie yanking my wrist out of his grip.

"See I don't think you're telling the truth." He takes a step closer to me leaving a small gap between us. "I know that just the thought of me being close to her or touching her.." Oh my God my heart literally aches picturing them in my head.

"Stop.." I whisper quietly squinting my eyes desperately wanting to erase it from my mind.

"It makes your blood boil." He says looking down at me. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"What?"

"C'mon," He takes a strand of my hair and puts it behind my ear. "We both know we can't stop thinking about each other. Whose blazer is on you?"

"It's Carlos'." Right as the words leave my mouth, he takes it off of me making it fall to the ground and the cold breeze hits my skin.

"Come with me." He takes my hand again, but I stop him.

"No, Charles, I don't wanna go with you." I lie, but he ignores me. "I'll scream, I swear-"

"Go ahead, scream. The press is just waiting for some interesting shit to happen. I'm sure you'll make the headlines tomorrow morning." He cuts me off and I have nothing to say back at him.

I follow him out of the terrace through the long corridor to the elevator. The elevator takes us up to the top floor of the hotel. We get out and Charles pulls a card out of his pocket unlocking the door of the hotel suite.

As we step inside, Charles takes off his blazer throwing it onto the bed and I go straight to the huge glass wall that has an exit to the balcony. The only light in the room was the one that came from the outside and I didn't mind. I cross my arms looking at the city lights outside not knowing what to do nor how to act. I'm so tired, emotionally tired. I don't have the energy to argue, to scream, I don't even have the energy to fight back or try to prove my point over anything anymore. I am tired of feeling this way.

I feel his arms on my waist as he appears behind me. He places a soft kiss on my shoulder and then on my neck making me close my eyes and lean my head on the opposite side so that now he has a full access to it.

I let out a small whimper as his left hand travels from my waist to the front side of my neck gently gripping it his rings leaving cold traces on my skin.

"Fuck, y/n.." He breathes out. "I want you so bad, you don't even realize." As he says that he presses himself against me and I can feel how hard he already is.

He spins me around and crashes his lips on mine and in that moment I completely give in. I forget what I was mad at him about. I decide not to overthink this, I just want to surrender to this moment and honestly I don't want it to ever end. Even if I wanted to resist this I couldn't. I want him more than anything and I want him to make me his even though in my mind I've been his from the first day we met.

He deepens our kiss as his tongue swipes lightly over mine. His hand finds its way over my thigh to my panties passing with his fingers over the thin damp fabric. He pulls them to the side with his two fingers and slowly starts rubbing my clit in circles as I lean my head in the crook of his neck.

"You're dripping, fuck..Look at me." He whispers and lifts up my chin with his other hand making me look him in the eyes. "You're so wet for me baby. Tell me, tell me what do you want me to do?"

"Charles..." I don't feel confident enough to say profanities back to him, but hearing him talking that way was music to my ears.

"Tell me what you want baby. I want to hear you. Do you want me to finger you?" He asks and I nod digging my nails into his skin.

"Finger me, please." my mouth fall open unable to say anything as his fingers hastily start going in and out of me.

"I really wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but you're making it too difficult for me." I moan at his words and at the loss of touch as he pulls his fingers out of me just to push them back inside. "Open your mouth." I obediently do as he orders and puts his fingers in my mouth. I suck on them paying special attention to his middle finger without taking my eyes off of his.

"Fuck baby..Look what you're doing to me. I'm so hard for you it fucking hurts." He mutters under his breath stroking his cock through his pants that looked as if they were about to snap open under the pressure. We continue to kiss passionately ripping off the clothes from one another.

"Please baby don't make me beg." He throws his head backwards desperate for my touch.

I start kissing his neck and unbuttoning his pants at the same time. He cups my cheeks as I slowly start pulling his boxers down his legs. My knees hit the floor and I don't waste any time as I put him in my mouth. Charles' moans intensifies when I look him up in the eyes.

"Fuuuuck." The eye contact almost sends him over the edge. It drives him completely crazy. "Baby, I'm gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that." But I want him this way, crazy over me, craving my touch as much as I'm craving his. He pulls my hair into a ponytail and pushes me deeper on his cock hitting the back of my throat. I gag around him making him moan in pleasure and he slowly pushes his cock all the way down my throat again enjoying the view.

"Fuck, I can't hold back anymore. I need to be inside of you. Come here." He breathlessly pulls me up by my elbows and presses me against the glass wall. He lifts up my dress and my right leg with one hand and with the other he pulls my panties aside thrusting himself into me.

"Charles we're at the window. Somebody could see us."

"Good. Then everybody will finally know how much you're mine." I feel warmth in my stomach at his words. God, it feels so good to hear them. "Do you want this?" He asks. I nod whimpering, but the answer doesn't satisfy him. "I need to hear you."

"I want it, I want you." I manage to say.

"Are you close?"

"Yeah, I'm so close Charles" I squeal digging my nails into the skin on his back.

"Me too baby, where do you want it?"

"Inside, cum inside me. Fill me up." The words that I whisper into his ear alone are enough to make his eyes roll and release his cum deep inside me. My legs start to shake and he quickly catches me holding me tightly in his embrace and leaving kisses all over my face.

"From now on it's just you and me okay? No one else, just you and me. No more messing around. I only want you y/n. I always have."

"Just you and me."

[starconstruction]

Loving Intruder

Yandere Gaeul x Reader (SFW)

was inspired by this gaeul post by @chrissssssmut and this gaeul post by @elryuse, read both if you haven't already!

It's a bit cliche but you always assumed love was warm, nice, sweet.

It's all you've read online.

But could you even call this love?

You didn't invite her in.

She just showed up at your door one day with a knife, "Let me in." was all she said with her sugary sweet voice.

You tried to slam the door on her. It didn't work, she got in.

Her presence felt weird.

"I'm Gaeul, you know me." You didn't. Not in the slightest. This was the first time you've seen anyone who looked like her.

"Why are you in my house?" Was the first obvious question, but she didn't answer. Not properly, only replying with a quick "You know." and dismissing any further questions.

You tried to run that night.

Slide out the door, run away.

But you didn't get your shoes on before Gaeul's knife was against your neck. "No you don't baby." The nickname made you gag mentally. Gaeul forced you into her arms that night.

She did everything you would want in a lover.

Every day, she woke you up with breakfast.

Always made you feel warm, physically at least.

But these motions of hugs, kisses, words of encouragement felt hollow.

Because who was this girl?

The end of the first week was when you had well and truly had it, she had you pinned in her lap.

"...Why, why are you here? What have I done to deserve this." You asked this at least twice a day. Her eye twitched this time, her long nails scratching into your skin.

"Why do you keep asking me this baby? Is it not obvious? I love you?" She looked terrifyingly calm, despite how irritated she was.

"I don't love you back! So just leave!" You yelled, she didn't say anything for awhile. But her grip didn't loosen.

A singular tear dropped down her cheek, "I... All this and you still don't love me?" She quivered. "That really hurts, but I'll make you love me."

Gaeul dragged you upstairs, her strength unpredictably harsh, her grip prevented you from struggling out, held forcefully.

She took you to your bedroom, grabbing a pair of handcuffs out of her bag. You really should have checked it.

"I thought, maybe if I just be perfect you'd love me! But it's clear that you don't appreciate me. But you will, you will!"

Your phone was on the counter, she always watched over it. Hiding it somewhere you didn't know during the night and monitoring your usage during the day. Never giving you a second to even think about calling the police.

"Don't worry baby, I can cover rent. I will cover everything, even your thoughts. You'll need nobody else, but me." Gaeul picked up your phone, "Not anyone in this phone, but I won't break it. I want the pictures of you, god you look so good in them baby. We will take so many more, just the two of us..." She put it in her top.

"You are fucking crazy!" You yelled, trying to get past her.

"That really hurts, but I will get over it, you aren't thinking straight right now. Its okay love just let me tie you up." Gaeul pushed you against the wall next to the radiator, face inches from yours. "Sit down, otherwise you'll regret it." She hissed into your ear, watching you slide against the wall.

"I hate you." You growled.

"Quiet down please baby." She held your arm still, clicking the handcuff into place, the cool metal making you whine.

"Fucking psychopath." You muttered.

"Quiet baby, those who don't show their lover respect don't get to talk." Gaeul pulled her phone out. "But I think this will be a fun story in a few months, so let's take a picture!"

She pulled out your phone from her bra, you never told her the password but that didn't seem to stop her. Opening up the camera app, sitting on your lap as she smiled. "Say cheese love!"

"Fuck you."

The screen flashed.

"Close enough! You'll come around, just remember darling." She turned around, whispering into your ear. "I control everything now. How you eat, how you sleep, if you get to shower, if you get to talk to anybody ever again. Maybe be nicer to the only love of your life? I'll let you think about it." And she left, leaving you in the pitch black.

Boredom set in quite quick, all you could see was darkness. Whether your eyes were open or not, you could move your left arm and that was about it.

Gaeul came in a few hours later, but only to give you food and turn off the clock that gave you hope.

She didn't say a word.

And that stayed true for every time she came in.

Leaving you with no conversation.

No touch.

No sight.

Nothing.

You had became a prisoner in your own home, one that wasn't going to be easy to get out of.

But it's never too late to dream.

You didn't know how long it had been when you finally spoke.

"Gaeul." You said, but she ignored you.

"Gaeul please just... Stay for a moment." That made her stop for a second.

"Yes?" The way she spoke unnerved you, like she was waiting for you to do this for awhile.

"I, please. Just uncuff me for a bit." You asked.

"Why should I? You'll just run away from me, I don't want that." She probed.

"I won't."

"I'll trust you, sure." Her tone was unconvincing, but you were free.

That night Gaeul forced you to sleep next to her. Trapped against her, you didn't spot your phone anywhere. You wiggled out of her arms. "Hmmm... Baby where are you going?" She said sleepily.

You flinched.

"Just the bathroom." You lied.

"Alright..." She watched you.

You took steps, long steps. Ready to book it.

But that opportunity never came.

She followed you.

"Gaeul I don't need an audience." You groaned.

"I'm not an idiot Y/N, you were trying to run. But I'm not going to get mad if you simply come back to bed." Her voice was disarming.

"Fine." You complied.

You were almost certainly fired. Your family called you and sent messages frequently, Gaeul told you that. But never what they said.

Your friends did the same. But it was all pointless. Gaeul controlled everything.

The lack of social contact was driving you mad. The lack of outside was driving you insane. You were starting to break faster than you could handle.

And Gaeul was there every moment.

For she picked up on every cue, watching how you became more desperate to go outside, to talk to anybody.

And she took full advantage of that.

"Baby, you look at that window so longingly... Why can't you look at me like that?"

You hesitated.

"Because I'm trapped here." You said solemnly.

"I know, you'll learn to love it eventually. But I'll make you a deal." You perked up.

"Deal?"

"Of course, I'll let you go outside with me for... 5 minutes to start, make sure you don't run." She started, that sounded so good. "But, I want a kiss."

You paused for a second.

You didn't win in this deal, but you weren't one to barter here.

Fuck it.

"Sure." Gaeul didn't wait a second, pressing her lips against yours. You expected a small peck but she went for it. Ramming her tongue into your mouth, she was greedy, hungry, insatiable. Holding you there until she ran out of oxygen.

You hated that you didn't find it unpleasant. But you'd never tell her that.

"That, oh my god finally... I've been wanting that for so long baby. We should go outside now while it's night time. I don't want anyone to see you."

The first second of air hit you like heaven, cold and still. It's serenity made you feel comfortable, Gaeul held onto your arm but you ignored that.

You almost cried as you walked through the street. Something so simple and taken for granted.

"Remember baby only 5 minutes..." She reminded you, "So we should turn back soon."

You paused. "I... You took everything from me."

"Not this now baby. I'm being generous, don't squander it."

"I shouldn't need permission to be able to go outside! I should be able to talk to friends! Family!" You shouted.

"You are getting too loud, this was a mistake... I guess we won't be doing this again." She sighed, attempting to pull you back, but you weren't going back.

You slapped her.

Hard.

"No!" You started to run.

The air was thick with tension, the occasional passerby's watching in confusion as you ran from her.

She was right behind you.

You weaved, dodged, did everything you could to keep her off your trail.

But she was always right behind you.

"I'm not mad baby... If you turn around I promise I won't hurt you."

You kept running.

Your heart raced.

You hid behind the wall of the store nearby.

She saw you.

But you were too tired to run anymore.

You were sobbing at your weakness.

You were suddenly in her arms, pressed in her chest. "Shhh it's okay it's okay, oh your shaking so much." Gaeul traced reassuring circles on your back. "I know it's a lot, all change is. You'll learn to love it."

"G-get off me, please..." You sobbed. Overwhelmed.

"You don't want that, I know what you want... Just sit there for a moment, calm down. And then we can go home."

"I don't wanna go home!" You whisper-yelled into her chest, only a muffled sound coming out.

"Yes you do, I won't hurt you love. You have already suffered enough tonight, just come quietly..." She said softly.

"N-No..."

"Going outside was a mistake, but we all make mistakes from time to time."

"G-get off me!" You said again.

"Save your breath, I'm gonna take you home now." Gaeul lifted you up. Holding you close, too tired to fight against her will.

You expected to go back inside, but she instead took you to your car. "I've realized I can't protect you fully in your own home, I know where to take you." Gaeul forced your body into the car seat. "Stay there, run and I'll find you."

You stayed, too weak, beyond exhausted.

You could hear the boot open, evidence of your existence being funneled inside.

"My house is so comfortable, you'll love it."

Gaeul got in the driver's seat next to you, doing your seat belt before driving.

-

Her house made it even harder to run, she was meticulous, her front door had a keypad, her windows were blocked of being able to transmit any light.

It was all so dim.

Soft.

Gaeul only ever allowed one lamp on per room, "It's more comfortable, wouldn't you agree?" Was all she said when you asked.

You never got to see the outside again.

You asked and she just reminded you of last time.

"I didn't pay your rent this month, blocked your auto-payment as well. You have nowhere to go, just me." Gaeul said, handing you the usual tray of breakfast. The same thing.

It was always the same. Toast, one egg sunny side up, orange juice.

"Why? Why did you ruin my life." Was all you said.

"I've saved it. You'll stop struggling, stop saying mean things, start embracing me and when that happens baby." She smiled "We'll be the happiest couple ever."

She kissed you.

She didn't need to bribe you anymore. She just took.

"I will never break."

"But baby you already have, in so many ways."

You rejected the food offered, Gaeul sighed "I will force it down your fucking throat if you don't just eat the damn food!" Her voice rose for the first time, making you shudder underneath her.

You relented, helpless to your circumstances. She was winning.

Or she had already won.

No matter how much you wished to deny it.