#“so that's what you've been doing all year last year

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Love 101

my week-late valentine's post

summary: third years ask first years for love advice. the first years suck at giving it type of post: blurbs characters: cater, trey, leona, rook, vil, idia, lilia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I. Cater and Deuce

Cater has always loved the thrill of the chase (or, really, the thrill of stalking your magicam at 2am) and he would have been content with keeping his digital distance if he didn't see you in Vil's last post. Suddenly anxious that he's fumbling, he does what he does best: info. And who would have better info than your best friend? "Uhhh, I dunno," Deuce says. "If you really like someone, then you should be honest with them- that's what my mom used to tell me, at least. Or did I read that somewhere? Uh, never mind. I'm sure the Prefect will understand! Just- you better treat them right, or else!" Be honest? When has honesty ever helped Cater? It'd take two more nights of crushing anxiety for him to send a risky text, spilling all of his feelings for you in a Magicam DM and then handing his phone over to a very confused (but pleased?) Riddle, so he won't check his notifs for your username every twelve seconds...

II. Trey and Ace

Trust me, he was not Trey's go-to. Okay, sure, Ace is your best friend. Sure, he knows everything about you, from your favorite desserts to your grades, and sure, you've probably told him everything about your dream man, but... It's Ace. And unlike darling, doe-eyed Deuce, if someone asked too much about you, Ace would get suspicious and go right into protective best friend mode. So, Trey keeps it vague. "Eh? You're asking me for dating advice?" Ace grins. "About time! I knew you were smart. What you're gonna do is give 'em a little, not too much. Maybe ghost 'em for a week or two, so they'll really miss you when you finally text back!" ...Yeah. Maybe Trey should just stick to desserts.

III. Leona and Jack

Listen, okay, Leona didn't want to ask him, either. But Ruggie had nothing, your other frosh friends couldn't flirt their way out of a paper bag, and Grim refused to give Leona the goods without tuna payments (and he's spoiled enough as it is). Of course, the moment Leona even implied he was thinking of you, Jack jumped. "You have to be direct and honest! This could be your life partner, you have to put your all in!" Right, sure. Why does he even bother with these kids?? You'd be turned off if Leona started spilling his guts like that. He would've given up then and there... but then Jack insisted he come to "support his upperclassman", as if it were a fight rather than a flirtation. Leona cursed the Seven, the stars, and every single student on campus as he stumbled his way through asking you out. "Not that you would, or that I care, but I-" he looks over his shoulder, and Jack is still there, arms crossed like an impatient parent. Leona grumbles. "If you want to..." "He wants to please you, Prefect!" Jack barks. "DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT!"

IV. Vil, Rook, and Epel

It wasn't like Vil sought out Epel for the sole purpose of you, the freshman simply... happened to be in the room while Vil was thinking about it! Out loud! With Rook! In a... slightly argumentative manner! "Epel, settle something for us, would you?" "Oui, you see, I say the way to win the Prefect's favor is by anticipating their every thought!" "And I say that's insane. You know them best, so, tell us, what do they like?" The poor boy looks between them like he's being held at gunpoint. How should he have known?? It's not like you guys spent your time gabbing about boys! "APPLES!" he blurts out. "The Prefect loves apples!! My grandma always said the quickest way to a person's heart is through their stomach!" Rook giggles and Vil mumbles something about Epel's peanut-sized brain. ...Nonetheless, you wake up to crates full of apples at your door the next morning.

V. Idia and Ortho

beeeeeep... beeep... bing! Idia swivels around in his chair at the sound of the printer. Crap, did he accidentally hit print page again? What a waste of ink- that stuff's not cheap, you know! But it's just... Ortho. "Here ya go, big bro! I thought you might need this!" Idia cautiously takes the warm paper, entitled Romance Intel 101. "Uh... Ortho. Why are you giving me this? You know I max out the romance stats in all my games EZ," Ortho giggles. "It's not for a game, it's for the Prefect! Based on the data I've gathered, your heart rate accelerates by 1.2 seconds, and your pupils dilate by 40% when thinking of, or speaking to the Prefect!" Idia turns pink and crumples, as if he were the paper (the first line of which, BTW, reading "step one- make eye contact!") This is going to be a looooong school year...

VI. Lilia and Grim

You probably should've been suspicious when Lilia popped into Ramshackle and offered to babysit Grim for an afternoon, but you weren't- not with assignments due, at least. You said your goodbyes, and as soon as you were out the splintered door, Lilia spun on his heels. Short as he is, he towers over the little direbeast. "Hm, seems like we have time to spare. How about a casual conversation? Yes? Good! So, how do the youngsters these days go about showing their affections? I would like to make my feelings for a certain someone known, but I'm terribly out of practice." Grim thinks for a moment, and then: "Tuna. Looots of tuna. Heaps of it! It's all the rage!" Lilia nods sagely. "Ah, yes, I understand completely. There was a rotisserie chicken fad a few centuries ago... er, so I've read. Isn't love wonderful!" You come home from the library to an unconscious, drooling, but very happy Grim, and Lilia sitting atop a mountain of empty tuna cans and beaming. "Darling! You're back!"

VII. Malleus and Sebek

It had always been Sebek's honor and duty to serve the heir prince of Briar Valley, whether in war or in love. When Malleus wistfully said he wished to know you better, Sebek saw to it. That is, he spent the entire weekend shadowing you. And not subtly- he was never more than a few steps behind, pen and paper in hand. When you asked what in the world he was doing, he- "OBSERVING! NOW, QUIET! BEHAVE AS USUAL!" "You don't have to shout, you're right behind me. And observing what, Sebek?" "NONE OF YOUR CONCERN! ACT AS IF I AM NOT HERE!" At the end of the weekend, Sebek returned to Malleus' throne with a report that titled you "inquisitive, dense, and apparently hard-of-hearing."

VIII. Rollo and You

Your friends had seemed wary when Rollo asked you on a walk with him, though he promised he wouldn't take you too far from their clutches care. You had been in Fleur City for days and he didn't know a single thing about you, other than that you were magicless and pitiful. You were so often spoken over, interrupted, and dismissed, it took Rollo a strenuous amount of grace not to grab you by the wrist and drag you away from your rude, contemptuous classmates himself... He couldn't word the feeling. And he was hoping you could. "So," he says, "They refer to you as Prefect. That is your role? Do you enjoy it?" You shrug. Has being at that terrible school rendered you unfit for social interaction? "Very well. Then what do you do for... fun? You appeared to enjoy seeing the city. Are you interested in history?" You shrug again. How can he be expected to know you if you won't tell him anything?? Rollo decides that words are worthless, and his eyes land on your hands. His own fingers twitch and tingle in anticipation, and for a brief but terrifying moment, he thinks of reaching out to you. ...In the end, he can't will himself to do it. Maybe in another life.

[thanklessindubai]

Long, slender fingers fanned out behind the nazi's head and then cluched at his face, covering his mouth.

"Rest."

He stumbled back into Armand, suddenly lethargic. Arching back until his head rested on Armand's shoulder. Eyes wide with terror.

"Let's see what's inside..."

Jason. Not just a Nazi, but one of those 'The South Was Right' mother-fuckers. Shot at his side hoe and got away with it because he was wealthy. Tried to strangle his wife with a charging cable when he changed his mind on the drive to rehab (she didn't press charges). Part of a number of cells over the years responsible for various hate crimes.

Armand felt vindicated in trusting Mina with the selection.

He dug deeper. Back to the beginning and through a nerve.

He whispered in Jason's ear, "You've been looking for me, haven't you, Jason? The operations, the barroom brawls. But I come for everyone in the end... And take you to the place where we're all alike. All one at last. One with you. It's alright, now, it's over. The isolation. The shame. No such thing as confusion or loneliness anymore. Your troubles are all so small."

He let go and Jason turned around slowly, staring dumbfounded at Armand. Tears streaming as he became overwhelmed.

"Whaddo I do with..."

Armand placed a finger to his lips to shush him. "You don't need any of that. We're all waiting for you. Be one with me."

"I'm sorry."

Jason was bawling now, face screwed up, shaking in a truly labored burst of emotion like he hadn't been capable of in decades. Sobbing quietly, he embraced Armand with enthusiasm.

Armand cradled his body gently and whispered, "No pain." Fangs descended. He bit down and began to slowly drain the life out of this terrible man, lazily feeding until the body grew limp.

“Just choose one, make sure he’s trash, lead him out,” she said. She maybe should feel bad that she leas leading people out so her vampire husband could kill them. But Mina had lived through World War 2. She knew what these sorts of bastards wanted back. They would happily see someone with Armand’s skin color dead

Mina moaned as he kissed her neck. To turn around and drag him into the backseat was tempting but Mina was in hunting mode.

“I’ll be back”

She slipped outside and went to the bar.

It was annoyingly easy getting one. He had no issues cheating on his workaholic wife, said all the right nazi things to get Mina to agree he was a good mark and let him outside for what he thought was a quickie.

Mina led him to the wall and felt her stomach roll when he told her to to face the wall as he unbuckled his belt

“Fuck off, nazi,” she whispered

[hrtwayne]

Safe & Sound || Alexia Putellas

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Lionesses Wife!Reader

Summary: Where Alexia and her wife knew that adopting a child and a teenager would have its difficult moments.

Note: Chapter inspired by Taylor Swift's "Safe & Sound"! (English is not my first language)

Warning: Mention of Abandonment Trauma and Lots of Comfort!

Masterlist | Women's Football Masterlist

Alexia left training at the Barcelona training center, exhausted but with a smile on her face. The day had been long, but the anticipation of returning home, where her wife and their two daughters were waiting, was what truly mattered. The past few weeks had been challenging since she and Y/n decided to adopt Claire, a fourteen-year-old teenager, and Mia, an energetic little girl. The adjustment phase was delicate and required a lot of patience and dedication from both of them.

Alexia picked up the girls from school and drove home, noticing that Claire was quieter than usual in the back seat. Mia, as always, chattered nonstop about the day's events, but Claire's lack of response left Alexia worried. When they arrived home, Claire went straight to her room, while Mia was excited about helping set the table for dinner.

A few minutes later, Y/n arrived home, bringing the pizzas and the burger that Claire loved so much. Seeing Alexia in the kitchen, she smiled and approached, placing the boxes on the table.

"Hey, love. I brought some pizzas and Claire's favorite food," Y/n said, kissing her wife on the cheek before noticing the worried look on Alexia's face. "Is something wrong?"

Alexia sighed, feeling the weight of the day on her shoulders.

"I think something's up with Claire," she replied, feeling Y/n's body tense against hers. "She seemed down today. She's usually pretty talkative with Mia, but she seemed distant."

Y/n frowned, concerned. Claire was a strong and resilient girl, but she also had her insecurities, especially after going through so many changes. Y/n knew she needed to be patient and sensitive at this moment.

"I'll talk to her, okay? Don't worry," Y/n assured, leaving a kiss on Alexia's forehead. Just then, Mia came running down the stairs, full of energy.

"Sweetie, don't run down the stairs, you could hurt yourself," Y/n warned, trying not to smile at her youngest daughter's enthusiasm.

"Sorry, Mom!" Mia replied, not losing any of her excitement, before turning to Alexia with a curious look.

While Alexia and Mia started setting the table, Y/n calmly went upstairs, heading toward Claire's room. She gently knocked on the door.

"Claire? Can I come in?" Y/n asked, hearing a soft "yes" from the other side.

When she entered the room, she found Claire sitting on the bed, hugging her knees. The room was quiet, almost as if it reflected the girl's state of mind. Y/n approached and sat beside her, extending her hand.

"Do you want to talk about what happened today?" Y/n asked, keeping her voice soft.

Claire hesitated, her eyes avoiding Y/n's. After a few moments of silence, she finally gave in, resting her head on Y/n's lap. The athlete began stroking her hair, waiting for her daughter to feel comfortable enough to open up.

"It's just that..." Claire began, her voice trembling. "I never imagined I'd be getting all this attention, you know? I've been through so many families... I've always been afraid that something would happen to me or Mia, that we'd be separated. Even though you're so good to us, sometimes I feel like I won't last long here. That at some point, you'll change your mind about me.

"Y/n's heart ached as she heard those words. She knew Claire's past experiences still haunted her, but she was determined to make sure that would change.

"Oh, my love," Y/n began, her voice full of affection. "I know you've been through a lot, and I understand your fear. But you need to believe me when I say that nothing will separate you and Mia from us. You're our daughters now, and nothing, absolutely nothing, will change that."

Claire sniffled quietly, still fighting back tears. Y/n continued, her voice firm but gentle.

"There's no way we'd ever send you back, Claire. You're ours, and we're yours. Never, at any point, have we thought of anything other than taking care of and loving you both. We'll always be here for you."

Claire finally looked at Y/n, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sat up and hugged her mother tightly, nestling into her arms. Y/n held her in a protective embrace, feeling the tension slowly dissipate from her daughter's body.

After a few minutes, Claire finally relaxed, a small smile beginning to form on her face. Y/n wiped the tears from Claire's cheeks and smiled back.

"Now, how about you wash your face and come down for dinner? I brought your favorite burger," Y/n suggested, kissing Claire's forehead.

"Thank you, Mom," Claire said with a shy smile.

Y/n left Claire's room with a lighter heart. When she entered the kitchen, she found Alexia and Mia finishing setting the table. Alexia looked at Y/n, who nodded, indicating that things were better.

"Ready for dinner?" Y/n asked, as Mia hurried to sit at the table.

Claire came downstairs shortly after, still a little shy but visibly more at ease. She joined the family at the table, and the atmosphere in the house began to fill with warmth and comfort as dinner progressed. Laughter and light conversation filled the space, dispelling any remaining tension.

After dinner, Y/n and Alexia put the girls to bed. Mia was the first to fall asleep, curled up in her blanket, while Claire, now calmer, also drifted off with a grateful smile on her lips.

When the two finally retreated to their own room, Alexia snuggled into Y/n's arms, feeling the peace that only that moment of intimacy could provide. Y/n stroked Alexia's hair and sighed softly.

"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" Alexia asked quietly, still with a hint of uncertainty.

"Yes, we are," Y/n replied firmly, holding Alexia closer. "We'll overcome any challenge, together. They're our daughters, love. Forever."

Alexia smiled against Y/n's chest, closing her eyes as she felt the love that connected them as a family.

[heavyhitterheaux]

“I hate having to share you.”

Joe had been sitting on the couch and pouting for close to an hour as he looked over at you and baby uno cuddled up on the floor together as you were reading a book to him. He also noticed that his eyes were getting heavy indicating that it would soon be time for his nap.

He honestly couldn't wait because as much as he loved having him here and watching him, he hadn't had you to himself all week since both of you had been so busy. So when he woke up, he was excited to spend the day with you all to come downstairs to see you holding his nephew and his mood instantly turned sour.

Because of this, he immediately sent a text to Ja'Marr

Joe- Come get your kid so I can get laid 😫

Uno- What the hell!?

Joe- He's cockblocking me right now and he has stolen my wife's attention

Uno- Take it up with your wife, she begged to take him and wouldn’t give up until I said yes

Joe- Idk how much I believe that

Uno- Either way I'll get him tomorrow

Joe- TOMORROW!? What the hell is wrong with later today?

Uno- I have a date. Have fun Uncle Joey. Bye!

Joe- 😒

He was taken out of his thoughts when you came and sat in his lap. Startling him, he looked at you and then was looking around for his nephew.

“Where’s baby uno?”

“Upstairs sleeping. You okay? You looked like you were thinking about something.”

“I'm fine.” He mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him which he happily accepted and kissed you back.

“Are you sure? You've been pouting all morning so don't think I haven't noticed.”

Letting out a sigh, he finally confessed.

“I hate having to share you.”Joe mumbled and you let out a small laugh, leading him to make a face at you.

“Joey… Are you jealous of a two year old?” You asked not being able to keep it in any longer.

“No… yes… maybe.”

“You are too cute for your own good.” You told him as you got more comfortable and ran a hand through his hair.

“I literally haven't seen you this entire week. Can you blame me for missing my wife?” Joe asked as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“No I can't blame you, I've missed you all week too.”

“But yet you volunteered to watch our nephew.”

“To let Ja'Marr go on his date and besides, it's only for one night. And we want to get as much practice in as we can before having our own, right?”

“I guess, but making the baby is the fun part, I hear.”

“Hmm, I think I've heard that once or twice before.”

“But…. He's sleeping so…” Joe started to say as he trailed off and his right hand started to make its way underneath your shirt.

“You mean to tell me that you absolutely cannot wait under any circumstances?” You asked and he replied by shaking his head no.

“As soon as I saw that he was here, I told your twin to come and get his kid so that I could get laid.” He confessed, making you laugh once more.

“Why am I not surprised? But if we do, we have to be really quiet because the last thing I want to deal with is a grumpy cranky baby. If that's the case, you have to watch him for the rest of the day.”

“Why are you telling me that when you're the main one who has a volume control problem with her voice? Especially when I suck on your clit.” Joe asked as he kissed the shell of your ear and started to make his way down your neck.

“I see you don't have a smart ass comeback for me.” He added as both hands reached up behind you to undo your bra.

“Shut up before I change my mind and you know that I'm never going to let you live this down, right?”

“Maybe but, I got what I wanted in the end so I call this a win.” Joe told you as he was trying to get your shirt above your head.

[aurumalatus]

assassin!xiao au in which he doesn't like you, and you're not quite sure why.

you've only met him once, though you've heard his name millions of times—he's a legend for trainees like you. the last of the yakshas, an elite team that had been wiped out in an unfortunate mission-gone-wrong years ago. he only works alone now, and he doesn't really talk to anyone else except zhongli.

that is, until one night.

as confusing as the headquarters is, you can't be blamed for getting lost once or twice. so you accidentally wander into the wrong barracks, and xiao awakens to find you tiptoeing through the hallway.

"what are you doing here?"

you flinch at the sudden voice, turning slowly to meet sharp, golden eyes. he's blinking sleepily, but all you notice is the split lip, the scratches over his arms, the dried blood over his knuckles.

"you're hurt," you gasp quietly, ignoring his question, stepping toward him on instinct. he moves back, retreating further into the shadows of his room, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and hiding them from your view.

"you're lost. the trainee barracks are on the other side of the building."

and usually, you would take his directions and be on your way, but you find your stare fixed to his wounds. looking closer, you find scar after scar, tracing them over his pale skin.

you've taken enough medical courses to know that he hasn't been caring for his injuries properly. the thought makes you frown.

"you should bandage those."

he leans against the doorframe, a single brow raised.

"no need. just part of the job, no one should be bothered by it."

you scoff internally. how annoying.

sure, there's a certain level of desensitization that's necessary for this line of work, but forgetting about the value of your own life is a mistake—that's how you get yourself killed.

but xiao looks completely unbothered by it all, so maybe he truly doesn't care.

still, he's being short with you, and you know you shouldn't be talking to him so informally like this, but his apathy irritates you for reasons that even you don't know.

you take another step toward him. he doesn't budge, but his shoulders tense—he's awaiting your next move.

"it bothers me when people don't take care of themselves," you huff, matching his tone. "i mean, you're still a person when you're not on the job, aren't you?"

xiao's eyes widen almost imperceptibly, flinching. clearly, no one's ever spoken to him this way. and maybe you shouldn't have been the first, considering your rank compared to his, but you really couldn't help yourself.

he's still staring at you, and you don't look away. instead, you fish in your pocket, pulling out a roll of gauze and shoving it at him. he takes it, still in shock.

he doesn't say anything in reply. you don't expect him to.

"goodnight," you murmur over your shoulder, finally turning to leave. "bandage those before you sleep."

and though it's unlike him, xiao finds himself watching you walk away, all the way until you disappear.

[alotofpockets]

Every scar has a story | Lucy Bronze x Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Your scars don’t make you weak, they show you how strong you are.”

Woso masterlist | Words: 700

-----

You had known Lucy since you were kids, the two of you instantly becoming friends in school. Lucy had been your closest friend from the very start, and even a year on the other side of the world to study in the U.S. couldn’t change that.When Lucy returned to England and joined you at Leeds University, your friendship deepened in ways you hadn’t expected.

At Leeds University your friendship with Lucy turned into a relationship. Despite countless people telling you that your relationship from such a young age wouldn’t last, the two of you have been going strong for over ten years now.

You had both grown a lot since your university days, but were always able to grow together and adjust where necessary.

The growth you've seen Lucy go through with her career has been incredible. You watched her play with the boys back home, and join her first all girl’s team. You watched her go pro. Win with both club and country. Earning more trophies than could possibly fit in your apartment, or the new one when you’d move when she joined a new club.

But you've also watched her get injured more times that you'd like. Minor muscle injuries, but also hamstring injuries, and her worst enemy, knee injuries. Over the years, she had more surgeries than you could count on one hand. 

Lucy was a tough one though. Of course she was, tough was literally in her name. Even during her many recovery periods, she kept a smile on her face for the most part.

But you also knew that beneath all that toughness, she struggled sometimes. Whether it was physically or mentally, no injury really went without struggles. By now you had learned what she needed when she was struggling with her injuries, and you could always be the person she needed in those moments.

She could have been doing well for months and then out of nowhere she’d have a night where she was struggling again. 

Tonight was one of those nights.

Lucy said she was going to change and be right back, but she had been upstairs for almost thirty minutes now. You went up to check on her and found her sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were unfocussed, and her finger was absentmindedly moving over the scars on her knee. She didn’t look up when you entered the room, but she knew you were there.

 “Sometimes I hate looking at them,” She spoke barely above a whisper. “They make me feel weak.”

Hearing her say that broke your heart a little. She was the strongest person you knew, and she thought she looked weak?

You crouch down in front of her, placing your hand over hers, stopping the tracing she was doing. “Your scars don’t make you weak, Luce. They show you how strong you are.”

You give her hand a soft squeeze. “Every single one of them has a story. A story that shows the proof that you fought, healed and came back even stronger.”

Lucy searched your eyes, trying to figure out if you were just saying that to make her feel better, or if you actually meant it. So you kept going. “You’ve overcome so much, and you’re still out there playing at top level. You’re still winning. Luce, you are the strongest person I know.”

The only thing she could find in your eyes was sincerity. She stayed silent for a moment until her lips curled up slightly. She pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

You chuckled, “Part of the job description, remember?”

Lucy let out a soft chuckle. “Right, I forgot I was talking to my personal therapist. How much for the session?” She jokes.

You pretended to calculate in your head. “I think a kiss and a cuddle should cover today’s session.” She smiled and kissed your lips. Then she pulled you in even closer and let the both of you fall back onto the bed. 

“Thank you.” She said into the otherwise silent room. You pressed a loving kiss to her cheek. “No need to thank me, I’ll always be here for you.”

-----

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[pythonmoth]

cw: violence. body harm. heavy torture. waterboarding. trauma. crude language. hurt/no comfort. explicit suicidal thoughts. self mutilation/harm mentioned.

simon riley x reader. implied simon riley x soap. implied simon riley x reader x soap.

First | Last | Next

He didn't want to get out of bed that day, and the Captain calling for a private meeting just as he dared opening his eyes gave him enough reason to know he was right.

Putting on his uniform was as easy as ever. Really, he hardly ever took it off, anyway. It took about twenty seconds to put on his boots and he was off.

It was cold outside.

The night before had been stormy, so if Johnny's lungs weren't used the damn weather by now, he would be cursing the gods for it. It was so cloudy that he just truly wanted to grab a coffee, and sleep again.

Hell, even breakfast before a meeting would do.

His pace wasn't rushed, the sun slowly coming up. As soon as he spotted Simon walking over to the Captain's office as well, seemingly unaware of his presence, he couldn't help but smirk and slow down. He did his best to keep his boots from making noise, holding his breath. He got closer, and closer.

Then, promptly bumped nose first on the back of Simon's head.

"Argh!" he grunted, holding his nose. Simon made no sound at all and just kept on walking. Johnny knew damn well the cocky tilt on the Lieutenant's head as they got near the Captain's office. "Bastard. Could've warned me, instead of making me nearly break my damn nose".

"Why? It's funnier like this" Simon said, the timber in his voice so amused it made Johnny roll his eyes, not really upset at all.

"To you, maybe".

"And that's how it's supposed to be, Johnny".

The conversation was cut short as soon as they approached the Captain's door. He was arguing with someone on the phone. It was clear he was trying not to make much noise, but the anger in his voice was unmistakable.

Simon and him shared a look, and waited for a moment before knocking on the door.

"Get in" the Captain's voice cut through the silence, hanging up the phone before standing up, looking at the two men with a hard expression.

"What's going on?" Simon questioned, standing right next to Johnny, their shoulders brushing.

"We've got a mole" the Captain said, his teeth clenched. Johnny watched as he paced behind his desk, his shoulders hardened.

"A mole?" he wondered, his eyebrows furrowing. "Who's the bastard? We'll drag him to the—"

"Goddammit, Johnny. It's the fucking lass" the Captain snapped.

In that moment, the room went colder than the freaky weather outside. The three men stared at each other for one long second.

"We've five lasses" Simon started, the trembling in his voice so evident that Johnny wanted to reach out, and grab his arm to stabilize him. He didn't, as he was trembling just as badly. "You better give me a name right now, or I'll start breaking your shit".

"If it weren't yours, do you think I would be calling you two idiots?" the Captain growled out. He opened his mouth, ready to continue, but Johnny spoke first.

"Is this some kind of ridiculous, fucked up joke?" he blurted out. He just couldn't think. He just couldn't believe it. "She's been here for nearly ten years. Capt'n, there must be a mistake. And you, you can't possibly believe this shit!" he blurted out at Simon, turning to look at him.

Simon was as stiff as a wooden board.

And he was so damn angry it nearly made Johnny shit his pants.

"Is there proof? Do you have it on you? Is it positive?" Simon questioned, the words flowing, barely controlled. Johnny's mouth fell open. "How can you be sure?"

"LT!" he gasped in surprise, his heart pounding in his throat. He felt like throwing up.

"Answer me" Simon demanded the Captain, ignoring him.

It took them two hours to go through the evidence, more than once. You've been sneaking information, your fingerprints, a few hair strands here and there. It all fit. It was almost as if you weren't even trying to hide it at all.

"Isn't it too simple, too easy?" Simon said, not for the first time. "Price, you gotta admit it's at least suspicious. She's not stupid".

"Capt'n, the lass' a smart one. Not even the lamest bastard in this damn base could pull a mistake this big" Johnny added. Needing to sooth himself, he discreetly placed his hand right next to Simon's on the desk.

The slightest curl of the Lieutenant's pinky across his made him take a deep breath.

"That's your pussydrunk heads talking to you. This is unmistakable and we can't risk it" the Captain shook his head, pointing at the evidence in front of them. They both went quiet at that, too troubled to feel offended. "Take her downstairs. We'll do as I ordered, in five. You either do it yourselves, or I'll call someone else" the Captain said. Simple as that.

If the Captain saw Simon snatch his hand back from Johnny's grip before they both stormed out of his office, he didn't say.

What was there to say, anyway?

An empty box suffered all of the Lieutenant's anger as soon as they stepped out. Snapped in half with kicks and thrown to the other side of the hall, alarming a few soldiers that, just taking a look at them, turned away instantly.

Johnny couldn't possibly do anything to make Simon feel any better if he was just as angry and appalled. Hurt, and incredibly confused, mostly. They didn't exchange a single word as they reached the mess hall, their boots heavy against the floor.

Simon's steps faltered when they saw you sitting at the usual table. Johnny clenched his jaw and walked forward, forcing Simon to do the same.

They both watched as you sipped on your mug, no doubt waiting for them to have breakfast. He saw you take a bite of the bread, your eyes brightening as you turned to them, recognizing their footsteps easily.

It's been nine years, after all.

Johnny's heart trembled at the sight. Anxiety and pain bloomed in his chest, but he forced himself to swallow it down. They had orders.

"It's so darn late!" you complained, your voice a little muffled around your mouthful, looking amused. Ridiculous. "Where were you? Come on, let's eat".

Beautiful.

It had been too easy. You didn't resist their touch at all, raising an eyebrow. Johnny heard you nearly choke when you noticed their grip wasn't playful, asking Simon what was happening, you feet dangling between the two of them.

Johnny's grip was tight, fighting to keep his expression blank, but it got fucking difficult the moment you realized where they were taking you, screaming, fighting, and struggling against them, demanding explanations.

The room had been used for many years, even before they got here. It either reeked of shit, piss or blood and bleach. It's never been pleasant.

The Captain was already waiting there.

He kept silent as Simon punched you on the stomach. Kept silent as you begged and pleaded, trying to meet their eyes, their hands tying you to the chair.

The Captain had ordered not to explain anything at first.

And it was fucking hard.

To see you get punched.

To be the one to gag you, despite your attempts to bite down on his fingers. To be the one who made you choke on your fears, on your pain.

Your panic.

Simon's eyes were detached, stuck within himself, the trembling in his hands barely noticeable, but Johnny saw it.

He felt it in his own hands.

Every time the Captain ordered him to yank on your hair. Every time he pressed that disgusting wet rag against your face and poured the water on it. Every time his gray eyes met your pleading gaze.

With each of your screams.

He saw Simon flinch with every one of them.

After the Captain kicked your lights out, the three of them had a serious conversation. Simon and Johnny were quiet, both of them staring at the Captain as if he had grown a second head right in front of them.

"No. I'm not doing that shit".

"Neither am I. Are you out of your fucking mind, Price?"

"Now, lads, I'm not asking. If you don't do it, I'll grab another two. We need information and the evidence is clear" the Captain cut them off. He didn't look happy about it, but he didn't seem too worried, either. "Tomorrow. That's an order".

Simon and Johnny sat on the stairs that night, with you right behind the door, both of them smoking silently. Neither of them acknowledged Johnny's tears, and when Simon turned away, neither said anything.

Your screams were a stab in his heart. And he couldn't blame anyone but himself.

When Price told him what they were going to do because you "wouldn't open your mouth", he had wanted to kill Price right there, but the evidence was too big, and it didn't matter what he thought. He was but a soldier. Price gave the orders, and it wasn't his place to question them.

Not too much, anyway.

But that didn't mean he had to like them.

Had it been anybody else, Simon wouldn't have hesitated. He would've dragged the dickhead to the basement himself.

But you?

Price had ordered him to go slow, to make you suffer as the nails were ripped off slowly enough to make you pass out, but he couldn't.

He couldn't go against his orders, but he could do them his way.

If it's done quick enough, the pain concentrates and dissipates faster, leaving only raw, throbbing fingertips behind.

That's the best he could do.

As you pushed your head against his chest, pleading and screaming in pain as Price asked you questions you didn't seem to hear, another nail would come off.

"Give him their names. Please" he whispered, low enough for only you to hear, but you were too gone with pain to pay attention.

Price would order him to go on, and Simon would grit his teeth, and do it as fast as possible.

Every scream made him want to crawl into the tiniest cave, and rot for the eternity.

If you were truly a traitor, he didn't care. He wanted you to break yourself free and steal their guns so you could end them right there. He wanted you to win and take revenge, dance on their bodies for all he cared.

When you said it was done between the two of you, he was glad his back was facing you. Otherwise, you would've noticed the trembling of his lips under the balaclava.

Orders. He had to follow orders.

When the toenails started coming off, your screams reached a deeper pitch. It was as if it wasn't you anymore, you looked like a whole different person. Simon pressed his head to your leg, panting, whispering and begging you to say their names.

"Please" he would whisper, gripping your ankles in hope to ground you away from the pain.

When he was two toenails into the second foot, deep cuts along the arch of the two of them, Price's radio went off. He went out of the room.

Simon stopped, looking up at you, but you were slowly passing out just from the little break you were allowed without Price in the room.

Johnny was shaking, his shoulder tense as he looked straight to the door in front of you, from where Price bursted inside the room again.

"Follow me" Price said, his mustache shaking. It didn't take long for Johnny and Simon to follow.

The last time he had been this angry, he had nearly killed himself in the middle of his room.

You were innocent.

Simon was faster than Johnny only for a second.

He punched Price so hard that he could hear a finger breaking, but he didn't give a single fuck.

He knew it wasn't Price's fault.

Still, it felt damn good.

Yells could be heard all across the base, confused soldiers who knew nothing of the situation yet would just stare at each other.

"They caught him trying to escape" Price raised his voice again. "He's been detained and has already confessed. He claimed he was—"

"I don't fucking care!" Simon snapped, gripping Price's desk hard enough to break the shit out of it. "Bring him here, goddammit. I'll put a bullet through his brain".

"You know damn well I fucking can't—"

"The fuck am I here for, then? I'm done with this fucking shit hole" he yelled, not interested in whatever Price had to say anymore.

Johnny and him rushed downstairs, panting, shaking. Price didn't leave his office, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes.

Simon fell to his knees and untied you as quickly as he could, watching you blink your eyes open, your gaze distant.

"I'm so fucking sorry, love. You'll be okay, I fucking promise you that. Fuck, I'm so sorry... I'll carry you, hold on. Hold on..." he whispered, sliding an arm under your legs and carrying you bride style.

He was struggling with his own anger, unable to control his body as he normally would, bumping his shoulders on the walls as he rushed upstairs.

"Watch her head! You're gonna fucking drop her. Let me help—"

"Shut the fuck up, Johnny. Don't fucking try me right now".

If Johnny was hurt by his words, he genuinely didn't care right now. He would get over it.

When he finally reached the clinic, he snapped at however was available to get their fucking arses up.

He knew it wasn't the right thing, but he couldn't afford to be respectful. Not right now. A few medics surrounded you immediately, but one of them started pushing him out.

They kicked him out of your room.

They fucking kicked him out.

Away from you.

"You've two broken fingers, and she doesn't need you. You ain't going in" the head doctor told him. Simon's eyebrows furrowed, his lips curling in a snarl behind the mask, but she was having none of that. "Shut it, you big brute. Now do as I say, or I'm kicking you out of my clinic".

Johnny sat next to him, but Simon wouldn't look away from the door to your room. He sat quietly, not even blinking as the doctor helped him with his fingers. They didn't even hurt.

He didn't matter.

It took you two days to wake up.

As soon as he was allowed in, he barely left your side, only to take a piss or grab a coffee. He would watch the doctors check on you, acting like a dog ready to snap and bite their heads off every time your fingers flicked in your sleep when they touched you.

"L.T. You gotta get some rest" Johnny mumbled, a hand on Simon's shoulder. It was only the two of them and you there. As it should be.

"Not interested".

"Its been four days since you've eaten anything".

"Good for me. Was planning on going on a diet, actually".

"Simon".

"That's my name".

Smack.

Simon finally looks away from your face to look at Johnny with wide eyes, the back of his head burning. "The fuck was that?"

"That's what you get for being a dickhead" Johnny replied, his eyes fixed on you. "She's safe here. Come on, we gotta be fed and rested, so she can kill us when she wakes up".

It took Johnny a lot of convincing, but he managed to drag Simon out. They ate in silence, and slept.

Only a couple of hours.

The moment Simon heard your first scream, just in the back of his mind, he got up to his feet, rushing to the clinic. He wasn't certain if it was his mind or if it was truly you.

When he saw you on the floor, crawling away from him, he felt both relieved and terrified. He sank to the floor instantly, his hands in full display, hoping to ease your fear.

"No, wait. Please. Please. You're okay" he said, his eyes wide, taking in your expression. He will never forget the way you were looking at him, as if he wasn't Simon. Not anymore.

He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to approach you anymore, didn't know how to even begin.

"W-we were tricked" he explained, at a complete loss. "A mole planted evidence against you, but we found him a few days ago, when we brought you here. I'm so—"

"You're sorry" you crackled, and it felt like a stab to his heart. "You're sorry".

It didn't matter what he did, you refused to listen to him.

"Please. I didn't want to do it. I'm so sorry" he pleaded, his hands flat against the ground. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Johnny and I. You won't forgive us and we know this. Fuck, you should never do so. Lovie... please".

When you started sobbing, shaking and keeping yourself away from him, Simon broke down as well.

He moved slowly, taking his mask off, and leaving it on the floor between the two of you. He didn't dare looking at you, tears or not, but he wanted you to stop being scared at him.

He would've preferred you stabbed him. He would've preferred you made him eat glass and then shot him between the eyebrows.

But scared? He wanted to bite his own fingers off to make sure he would never hurt you again.

Simon was embarrassed. Ashamed.

He had followed orders, but he should've pressed Price harder. He should've helped you somehow instead of just doing as he was told.

The space between the two of you felt disturbing and too big. He wanted to hold you, to kiss your face, and never let go.

He didn't dare trying to convince you.

But you've been clear. It was over.

All he had left was his regret.

by implied I meant fucking obviously. i couldn't leave johnny out, i love him sm. but if you don't like it just picture them as rlly close buddies, then. they might kiss, but who doesn't kiss their buddies, am I right?

i was gonna wait until tomorrow, but i finished way faster than I thought I would, and I'm hyped as hell, so here you go. a gift!

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold

[ashwhowrites]

Oooh! I caught them this time! Yay!! I always miss ur requests! I’m so excitedddddd! 🤩

Can I ask for a Steve Harrington x reader fic w/ breeding kink? Like maybe he and reader have been together for a min and they’re out w/ Dusty and between watching him with the younger boy and maybe smiling and waving at a random baby reader is kinda watching him dreamy. So once they get a sec alone he’s like what? And she just smiles and is like “ur gonna be such a good dad”. And it DOES something to Steve. He plays cool and questions her like oh u think about that huh? And she’s like of course, I can’t wait to have ur babies. And Steve is like alright goodbye, drags her out and takes her home and smut breeding breedy smut.

Please and thank youuuuu 🤤 I love ur writing and def love ur Steve. I’ve never requested before and the anticipation is killing me already lol!!

Last one from my drafts :( none of this is proofread, apologies if it's a mess. I hope you find this and are still interested!!

Baby talk

It was common for Steve to hangout with Dustin. It was sorta babysitting in a way but Steve didn't feel that way. Y/N loved hanging with with her boyfriend and enjoyed when Dustin tagged along. It warmed her heart seeing Steve take care of Dustin and the friendship they had.

At first she thought it was sweet and adorable. But now that they've been together for over two years, thinking of their future together and growing more serious by the day, seeing him interact with all the kids sparked something inside of her.

~

It wasn't a surprise to see Dustin in the backseat as Steve pulled up to her place. She smiled at the young boy through the window before she entered Steve's car.

"How are my boys doing?" She asked as she clicked in her seatbelt, leaning over to greet her boyfriend with a soft kiss. Dustin pretended to gag behind them before he greeted her.

"Good. Dustin was telling me all about Hellfire....again," Steve said with a tight smile. A look in his eyes that Y/N could easily read as annoyed. She giggled and turned her attention to Dustin as he began to talk about it all over again, Steve peeling off down the road.

It didn't take long to wind up at the small restaurant, Steve as the gentlemen he was rushed out of the car to open her door. She thanked him as she slid out of the car, grasping his hand as they walked in, Dustin a few feet behind.

They settled at their table, a small giggle catching their attention. The couple turned their heads and saw a mom with a toddler at a table near by. The boy was clapping and there was a gummy smile on his face. Y/N returned her attention back to Dustin but Steve was in a trance. The little boy kept his eyes locked with Steve as he waved. Steve smiled and waved back.

All throughout their small lunch, Y/N couldn't look away from Steve as he entertained the toddler. The toddler loved him and Y/N couldn't blame him, she'd stare at Steve all day too. Which she has done and which she has been doing for the past hour. A dreamy look in her eyes as he made faces to the toddler.

Steve noticed his girlfriend's stare. Every time he looked back at her, she was already looking at him. A small smile on her face. Dustin filled the car ride with another story, but Y/N's mind was racing. She knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Steve, but damn she wanted to have his babies the second they got home. She wanted to be claimed by him and bounded together for life. To have the pride of bringing a baby into Steve's life.

She was lost in her daydream that she didn't notice Dustin got out of the car until the door slammed.

"What's up with you? You've been smiling all day," Steve laughed, giving her a quick look before he pulled off down the road.

"Nothing, just seeing you with that little boy. You're going to be such a good dad," she replied honestly. She thought the words would make Steve a little nervous, but he seemed to have an opposite reaction.

Steve felt his face burn and a twitch in his jeans. He thought about kids but hearing his girlfriend admit she noticed he would be a good dad excited him. He tried to not make it a big deal, playing it cool as he looked back over at her.

"Oh! You think about that?" He asked

"All the time. I can't wait to have little Steve babies," she joked even though she meant it. But Steve didn't crack a smile or laugh, he had this focused look on his face as his foot slammed down on the gas petal.

"Steve! You're speeding!" She scolded, looking at the speedometer.

"I don't care. I need to get you naked in my bed now," his voice was deep and serious. Her playful attitude shifted as she felt her thighs clench.

"Oh?" She teased, her hand moving to land on his thigh. She slowly slid it up, enjoying the way his breath hitched. "Do you have a secret kink you are hiding from me?"

Steve rolled his eyes at her teasing, but he couldn't help but melt in his seat as her hand moved closer to his covered cock. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white as her hand landed over his growing hard-on.

"Look at that," she whispered as she leaned over to his ear. Her hot breath fanned his neck as he harshly swallowed. "I should've known."

Steve somehow pressed harder against the gas, the car zooming down the street as he headed in the direction of his house. His breathing was heavy as she rubbed him over his jeans, teasing him the whole way.

He could barely think as he pulled into his driveway, moving fast as he raced them both out of the car, Y/N barely keeping up as he yanked her into the house. As usual the house was empty, leaving them alone.

Steve didn't waste a second before his lips were pressed against hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hands moved to undo her pants, slipping them off. He placed his hands under her thighs, making her jump as she wrapped herself around his body. He moaned into the kiss as her warm cunt pressed against his jeans. He stumbled into his room, blindly searching for his bed as he dropped her on the mattress.

Their lips disconnected as her back landed against his sheets. She propped herself on her elbows as he stood over her and removed his shirt. She moaned as his hairy chest came into view, her hands already reaching forward to run her fingers through it. She loved Steve's chest hair, it added so much manly potential to him and it drove her insane.

Steve reconnected their lips as she played with his chest hair, he showered underneath her touch his cock growing harder. He softly pushed her down, climbing on top of her as they were messily made out. His hands skimmed up her body, his fingers teased the band of her underwear. Her stomach was rising up and down with every fast intake of breath.

His tongue met hers and she couldn't help but whine. His fingers slid into her underwear until he met her soaked cunt. Her hands moved into his hair as she braced herself when his fingers easily slipped inside of her.

Her insides burned as he fingered her, he moaned as her tongue worked against his. She made his head fuzzy and all he could focus on was how badly he wanted to fuck her until she was screaming under him. He wanted to cum inside of her, paint her walls and put a baby inside of her.

Needing air, she pulled back. Her eyes rolling in the back of her head as Steve's skillful fingers worked inside of her. Steve looked down at her, his eyes full of lust as he watched her body.

"Steve, please," she whines, her eyes fluttering open. She moaned at the look in his eyes, they were dark, needy, and desperate. She loved having all the power over him, that she had him wrapped around her finger.

"What do you want, baby?" He asked, his voice thick with arousal. He kept his pace, loving how she sucked him in and coated him with her wetness.

"Fuck me. I want you inside of me," she moaned, "I want you to fill me."

Her words edged Steve on, his fingers curling up as she withered under him. "Yeah? Your sweet pussy wants to be stuffed full of daddy's cum?"

Y/N's body reacted to his words, easily showing him he said the right thing. She tried to speak but nothing came out but choked whines. He leaned down and softly kissed down her body, removing his fingers as he became eye level with her dripping cunt. Her hands lost its grip on his hair, reaching for the sheets below. He slid her underwear down her legs, tossing them to the side.

She twitched as she waited for his next move, impatiently. Steve took his time, his cock was suffocating in his pants but he forced himself to deal with it. He grabbed her ankles and placed them on his shoulders, she squealed as he used his fingers to spread her pussy open. He drooled at the sight, leaning in as he pressed his tongue flat against her. He licked up and down, coating his tongue. Her throat was dry as her sounds all cracked. She dove her fingers into his messy hair, forcing his head further against her.

He groaned at the taste on his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he sucked on her clit. He loved hearing her sounds and knowing he was the only one that got to see her like this. He was the only one who got to taste her. And he was going to be the only one to put a baby in her.

"Yes, Steve, fuck," she praised, her hips rocking against his face as she felt an orgasm approaching. Steve just needed a small taste of her, a smirk on his face as he pulled away. Leaving her and her cunt begging for more.

She wanted to groan in protest but knew how to behave. Steve had no problem giving her anything she wanted if she was good about it.

"Pretty pussy is pulsing for me. So needy. Sweet girl is in heat huh? Craving my thick cock to satisfy you?" His dirty words made her shiver. She began to whine pathetically, her mind all mush as she reached for Steve's skin.

He stepped back to strip the rest of his clothes. She fought to keep her eyes open, looking at his naked body from head to toe. Her eyes zoned in on his throbbing cock. He began to softly pump it, the action making her head spin. She could study his body for hours. She's had sex plenty of times with Steve but his cock amazes her every time. He was thick and veiny, and she clenched her thighs as she replayed what it feels like inside of her.

"Come on daddy, breed my little cunt," she said as she spread open her legs. Desperately needing him to slide inside of her.

Steve was quick to position himself on top of her, holding his throbbing cock against her entrance. He guided himself inside of her, instantly moaning as her cunt began to suck him in.

"How long have you been thinking about having my babies? How long have you been wanting my cock raw inside of you?"

Y/N hated that he asked questions because she couldn't think of a single word. All she could give as a response was moans and whines as he begins to pound her. Her nails gripped his neck, holding his head as he moved perfectly inside of her.

"I've been fantasizing about pumping my sperm inside of you every single day. Jerking myself off as I picture how perfect you'd feel around me raw and bare. And fu-ck, better than I imagined," he moaned out his words as he moved his hands on the sides of her head, using the leverage to push himself deeper.

"Daddy's cum- starved breeding whore" he growled

"Oh fuckkkkk," she whined, the nickname brought her closer to the edge. "Close, please."

Steve moved one hand down their bodies, easily finding her clit. Her thighs shook as her clit burned with need.

With how turned on she was in the car ride, she barely could hold it together as his cock and fingers on her clit brought her to a new level. She clenched around him and Steve knew she was close.

"That's it, milk me sweetheart. I know you want it. I know that slutty pussy wants my hot cum painting your walls. All my sperm emptied inside of you."

"Jesus Steve," she breathlessly laughed. She's never heard his mouth so dirty but fuck it worked well. "You're so fucking hot like this."

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you raw every day until I get you pregnant? Have you whenever I want you. Don't even need to wear panties, stay bare for me. Let me slip in when I feel the need to empty my balls inside of you?"

"Yes, fuck, yes. Please please. I need to cum," she begged. Even if she wanted to wait for an answer, she wasn't able to. Her body snapped and she came.

Steve shivered as he felt her cum on him. He puffed air out of his nose as he focused on his release. Her hands skimmed down his back, landing on his ass as she pushed him further inside of her.

"Come on, daddy. Fill me up. I want your cum, every last drop. Breed me, give me a baby. Show everyone how well you filled me up. How I belong to you."

A shiver ran up Steve's spine at her words, firing his body up as he gripped her hips and pounded himself harder into her. Her head was thrown back as she tried to handle the new pace. Her cunt was aching but he felt way too good inside of her.

"Fuck gonna fill you up until your belly is swollen. Not going to-" he moaned, "stop until...fuck...until I breed you."

He felt his orgasm building, desperately chasing it as the bed squeaked underneath them. His body was beginning to sweat. Drops dripping down his neck and Y/N craved to taste it on her tongue.

"Right there, yes, yes, fuck yes," Steve moaned as he came. His body shook uncontrollably as he emptied himself inside of her. He panted as he rested his head against her forehead, catching his breath as he continued to push himself into her. His eyes bored into hers as he let her cunt milk him for everything he has.

He collapsed on her body, still inside of her, as he finished. His heart raced as he continued to catch his breath. Their sweaty bodies sticking together as they both sat in silence. Both feeling his cum resting inside of her.

"God, I love you," he whispered against her skin. He shifted to see her face, leaning in to softly peck her lips. "I can't wait to marry you."

Her heart swelled at his words as she reconnected their lips.

[leashybebes]

seventeen, or forty, or nine! :^)

here is number 9 - bookstore AU. went for more of a meetcute vibe than either of them working in a bookshop but *handwave*

Buck's tried three book stores, two of which got him blank looks, and one an apology about being out of stock and an offer to order in. Karen's birthday drinks are tomorrow night, so that's a bust. He's already got her actual gift, but he saw the book title in a list of queer non-fiction recommendations that he was browsing the other night for…reasons he's kind of feeling his way around the edges of, and it jumped out at him immediately. The reviews are kinda mixed, but the title is too good to pass up, and he knows Karen will get a kick out of it even if she doesn't wind up loving the book itself.

His final stop is Skylight Books in Los Feliz and in the crowded shop, with shelves of all heights and at all angles, it takes him a second to find the queer section mainly because - as he belatedly realises, a big, bulky guy is blocking the sign as he stands with his arms folded, scanning the shelves. Buck ducks towards it, sees the title of the book, a single copy whose cover proudly proclaims Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest to Track Down the Last Remaining Lesbian Bars in America. And then the title is obscured when the guy reaches out his big hand and scoops it up, and Buck blurts, "Wait, wait, no!"

The guy looks at him, eyebrows up, dark blue eyes a picture of puzzlement and Buck's reasons for scanning those lists of queer literature and movies and history crystallise sharply. He's gorgeous. He's so tall and so broad and his eyes are so pretty and his jaw is so stubbly and strong and Buck wants to taste it. He also really, really wants that book.

"Hi," Buck says breathlessly. "I'm really sorry, but I need that book."

The guy glances down to the book, back up to Buck.

"I hate to pull playground rules, but finders keepers, man."

"No, wait, you don't understand, it's a birthday present."

"Same," the guy says, starting to step around Buck and towards the checkout. Buck's heart sinks at the imminent disappearance of both the book and the guy.

"No, no, c'mon, the birthday drinks are tomorrow, you've got time to find another copy, right?"

"That's a coincidence," the guy says. "My friend's birthday drinks are also tomorrow. Sorry."

"No, wait, like - look, I saw the book on this list of like - interesting queer non-fiction, and uh, my friend - well, my friend's wife originally, but my friend too now, she's so cool and so interesting and I think I gotta ask her questions about like. Being queer. So this would be a really great segue into talking to her about how I'm like…ninety percent sure I'm bisexual - " Some reflex takes over and Buck does a quick up and down glance of the guy's body. " - ninety nine percent sure, okay, so like. You gotta help me out, man."

The guy blinks, something amused in the small curve of his lips. "No dice, buddy. No one gave me a coming out book shield, so. You'll do fine."

"Aw, c'mon, please! Karen's so cool, and I - "

"Wait, Karen Wilson?"

Buck blinks. "Uh. Yeah? What the hell?"

"I used to work with Hen."

Buck's head is filled with static, running through a mental rolodex of people Hen or Chim have ever mentioned as predating him at the 118. There's always the chance this guy is a pharmaceutical rep, but he definitely has more of a firefighter's build. 

"I work with Hen right now!" Buck says.

The guy looks him up and down, tilts his head. "Wait. Are you the - the disaster magnet probie?"

"Yes!" Buck says, way more pleased than he should be. "I mean, not anymore, I haven't been a probie in years, but uh. That's me! Evan Buckley!"

"Tommy," the guy says, and holds out the book. "Going on what I know, there's a non-zero chance the store collapses in on us if you don't get your way, so. Here you go. Good luck with the bisexuality."

"It, uh - it could be a joint present?" Buck suggests, his mouth taking over. 

Tommy's eyebrows go up again. "Little early for that, isn't it?"

"Get coffee with me, then," Buck offers, his heart in his mouth. He's asking out a guy. He's asking out the hottest guy he's ever seen. He's asking out the hottest guy he's ever seen and if he crashes and burns he's going to have to see him tomorrow at Karen's birthday drinks and - 

"Sure," Tommy says, half-smirk broadening into a smile that lights up his whole face. "I'd like that, Evan."

[seat-safety-switch]

Every so often, I hear constituents complaining about me. They march on my palatial strip-mall office and demand reforms. They ask when I'm up for re-election. Folks, I'm here to tell you that you didn't elect me at all. I'm not actually a real-ass politician. Come inside, it's cold, and let me explain. Christophyr, fire up the Mr. Coffee, these sons of bitches deserve a decent brew after what their actual politicians are putting them through.

It all started a couple years ago, on a night much like tonight, when I noticed that big corporations are really sloppy with how they pay their invoices. A friend of mine was skimming tons of money off the Mercurial Office Supply Corporation by simply showing up and asking to be paid for plumbing work he didn't do. Stood to reason, maybe they'd be sloppy with how they'd pay their bribes too. I noticed that they gave a lot of money to the local re-election campaign, so I decided to run for office too.

Now, running for office is expensive. That's part of how they keep the common man out of it. You've gotta get all those signatures, take all those meetings, give all those speeches. Don't have time for that, because I'm busy playing with remote-controlled cars in the parking lot behind this office most of the time (Helen cheats, don't trust her to not cork a battery pack,) and the rest of the time I'm calling big-business donors and asking for re-election funds. You wouldn't believe how easy it is: just prattle off some low-tax nonsense, talk about "innovation," and mention that you sure would like them to send you ten thousand dollars. Then they do it, without even checking if you're actually a sitting politician.

Now, is it fraud? No. Politicians write the rules, and if they were going to jail just because they did a little thing like "take money from shady mega-corporations and then not do what they want," then every single one of them would be in jail. Nobody is ever really happy with what they buy with the corrupt blood money, but they throw it at the thirsty politicos just in case it helps tilt things just a little bit in their favour. Lots of gambling problems in the C-suite, I'm telling you. And it's not even really a lie. I really do need that money to run for re-election: I'm the treasurer of the local small town's parent-teacher association, and competition is fierce. Nobody ever asks what my actual position is before handing over the cash, for some reason.

I hope this has been educational for all of you in the enraged, violent mob that is tweaked about some other politician's horse hockey, of which I have no control or knowledge. Please enjoy the rest of your coffees in the parking lot.

Actually. One last thing before you all leave. We've got this election coming up, and getting some small-dollar donations from all of you will really secure my grassroots bona fides. Why, you wouldn't want to be giving that money to my opponent, who will probably torture and maim your children. Whoever that opponent is, I don't have time to read the newspaper anymore. Christophyr, pass out the collection basket.

[xoxoavenger]

Hi, I saw your post about wanting some bycky requests I may have one.

Could you please write some Bucky x Fem!Reader where the reader is Tony's daughter? You can choose the plot, I kinda like imagining her being a cop or something like that tho

Feel free to ignore if you don't like it ♡

thank you for getting the ball rolling! I always have reader be adopted, just to have the story be more inclusive (and also to help make the age gap less crazy lol) and I also made reader a SWORD agent instead to fit the storyline, but this helped so much, thank you!

Win

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark!Reader

summary: Bucky's running for Congress, and he needs a win to help make some change. Y/N's just trying to support him the best she can.

word count: 2799

warnings: reader is adopted, age gap (MCU is in 2027 everyone so by my math reader is like late 30s, Bucky is mid-fourties, but you can imagine it however you want there's no specifics), if you're new here reader calls Bucky 'James' bc i like that and think it's cute, Bucky has some issues, written pre-Thunderbolts movie release so there could be some future inaccuracies

masterlist

Bucky knew he could never actually retire.

It was a nice thought, but in practice he hated how fucked the world was, how much he seemed like part of the the problem. It's why he's running for Congress, so he can make a difference in a way that doesn't have anything to do with violence.

He's in a deep in paperwork when she walks in, pantsuit ironed to perfection and a folder of papers he's sure are for him in her arms.

"Mr. Barnes," She smiles, and Bucky's never been more happy to see her. "I've brought some papers from Media, most of them about you smiling more. I told them you shouldn't lie before you've even gotten into office, but they refused to see how smiling could be this big of a problem. So clearly, they don't know you very well." Y/N Stark is a ray sunshine in Bucky's office, and he doesn't know how he got her.

SWORD agent Y/N Stark, adopted by Tony Stark after Nat saved her from the Black Widow program just before meeting Tony in 2008 while she was in Budapest, believing that Y/N had been the last of the Red Room. Y/N had been just 16, and Natasha wasn't in the greatest place to be a guardian. To be fair, neither was Tony, but at least she also had Pepper. Y/N changed her last name before she turned 18, since her parents had given her up as a baby and she didn't like her past defining her. Bucky had first met her when fighting at the airport in 2016, and after they went into hiding Bucky had talked Steve into sending Y/N a package just like Tony had gotten, and she had called. They began dating in secret, as she helped SHEILD rebuild itself as SWORD, and was granted entrance into Wakanda to visit him as he healed from the trigger words. They were finally getting back to where they had been before the snap, when Bucky had disappeared and Y/N had lived five years in grief.

But now Bucky was trying to figure out how to get her to retire and work with him, because he thinks a change might be exactly what he needs to make him feel better. The more he learns about politics, the more he doesn't know how to make the change he wants to.

"Well," Bucky leans back in his seat, stretching his back. He's been sitting all day, a harsh change from his life before, but he honestly likes it. It feels nice to not be conditioned to fight at every second, to be able to relax even just a little bit. "I hope you told them I'm not doing that." He says lowly, and his fiancé rolls her eyes with large grin.

"How did I end up with a hundred and three year old grump?" She asks, walking all the way in and dropping the papers on his desk. Bucky reaches up and pulls her into his lap, pushing her jacket back because he loves to see the leather vest she wears that holsters her gun over the white button up blouse.

"It's actually a hundred and ten." He says. He knows that she knows this, that she knows his actual birthday even if everyone likes to pretend that he wasn't frozen and used by HYDRA for years which makes him actually in his late thirties, maybe early forties.

"Ugh, old man." She says, but her smile is painted on, almost like the opposite of her.

"You love it." He leans his mouth up, and she leans down to give him a quick kiss. This isn't enough for him, and he leans back in to chase her lips.

"James, people actually work in this office. They don't want to see a couple macking in the middle of the day." She says as she gets off his lap, which makes Bucky upset.

"Macking?" He questions, because she's always using these words that he has no idea what they mean.

"Come on, grab your papers and let's go." She doesn't explain the word, instead holding out a hand that Bucky only grabs onto, not letting her pull him up and out of his seat.

"I can't leave yet." He wants to, he really does, but he has so much work to do. The election is coming up faster and faster, and he feels his opportunity to change things slipping through his fingers.

"James," She whispers, yanking on him to no avail. She frowns, and he wishes for a moment that he could just stop everything and go home with her.

"I can't lose." He tells her softly, and she just nods, even though she doesn't fully understand.

"Okay." She lets her hand slip out of his, and Bucky wishes that he could go back to those nights they spent in Wakanda. They were so unrushed, so calm. "I'll see you at home, then." She calls over her shoulder as she exits the room, a smile on her face even though he can hear the hurt in her voice.

"I'll bring dinner." He says, knowing that he always drives past her favorite restaurant. He needs to make it up to her, but she's shaking her head with her lips tight.

"I won't count on it. Maybe we can go out to dinner on the weekend." She says, and he nods in understanding. He's late to get home a lot, but this is important to him. Doing this without Steve, without Y/N's name or money, it's almost like he has to prove that he can make it in society.

"I love you," He says, and when she responds he turns back to his work. It's the last thing he wants to do, but he refuses Y/N's offers to get him a full team with a full New York office. He's going to do this on his own.

He can do this.

~

When Bucky loses the election, he wishes he could say that he saw it coming.

He knew about the people calling him unfit, knew about how a lot of people thought he was emotionally unstable despite his record of therapy. The people who never forgave him for his crimes, the ones that he was under mind control for, the ones he doesn't even remember committing. But for a second, he thought that they could look past that and see the good he was trying to do. Y/N calls as soon as the news is announced, but Bucky is already packing his shit up and leaving the the office.

When she gets home, his metal arm is disconnected from his body and hidden away somewhere. In his right hand, he has a stiff drink, and he's staring at the tv, on a low volume but playing the news.

"James," She whispers, slipping her shoes off and walking over to him. "I'm so sorry, babe." She tells him, walking onto his couch and folding a leg under her as she puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I wanted to do something." He says, eyes glassy. He doesn't even look at her, but he's not really looking at the TV anymore. "Ever since I fell off that train 1945, my life hasn't felt like my own. I haven't done anything to help anyone. All I've done is watch my own life pass before my eyes, watch the families of people I killed," A tear falls, and his face scrunches as tries to hold it in.

"You helped save the world." She says, not mentioning the fact that Bucky doesn't seem to think that she was a good thing. He's clearly in a dark place right now, and her bringing herself up isn't going to help anything. All these comments from people who have nothing better but to hid behind a screen have him slipping back to before he went to therapy, and Y/N hates this. "You saved those hostages when everything was going down with the Flagsmashers. You are a good man. You have done good things. You can't let these people who think they know your past get into your head."

"I just feel so helpless." He finally looks at her, and her heart breaks. "I saved the world, but did I really make a difference? I didn't sacrifice myself like your dad did. I can't lift Thor's hammer like Steve. I'm not Captain fucking America. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could do this one thing. This one fucking small act. But my life doesn't change. I can't be the White Wolf, because I'm already the Winter Solider." His voice cracks, and Y/N pulls him into her arms. She wishes people could see Bucky Barnes the way she does, the way he loves, the way he cares.

"You would have made a great Congressman." She tells him honestly, pushing some of the long hair he's been growing out away from his face. "And I'm proud of you for trying. We'll find a way to get you to make a difference the way you want to. This wasn't your path, but that doesn't mean that you aren't destined for change." He smiles through his tears, and they share a chaste kiss before Y/N helps him to the shower.

~

Three weeks later, Y/N wishes she could say she was surprised when she sees Bucky standing in the middle of New York, staring at the Void that Y/N had been sent out to collect data on.

"James?" Y/N screams over the wind, and Bucky's eyes widen. Even if he didn't hear her voice, he would have known because she's the only one that calls him by his first name. She's done it since they met, and every time he asks why she just laughs and doesn't answer the question.

"Oh, fuck." He mutters, causing everyone to look over at him.

"What?" Alexi asks loudly, never one for subtlety.

"What on God's green earth do you think you're doing here?" She asks, walking up to Bucky. She feels the need to slap her fiancé, hit him with the new ring he got her, but she controls herself.

"Y/N," Bucky starts, turning around and looking at her. The metal arm is reattached, his tactical suit on. When she left his morning he was still asleep, but she did know that something was different lately. This problem they were having with a super human who had insanely terrifying void powers, and they had basically no information about them. She had been so busy that she didn't have time to figure out why Bucky was acting different; she naively assumed that he was healing after his loss. He walks closer to her, trying to keep their conversation private.

"I swear," She looks beyond mad, and Bucky knows everyone is watching them. "I have too many thoughts right now to fully articulate how I'm feeling." She tells him, and he knows he deserves this.

"I meant to tell you," He truly did, but he just never felt like there was enough time. This was conversation that required more tact than he thought he had at the moment. It's not that he was trying to lie to his fiancé, but he knew he wasn't actively telling the truth.

"Are you gonna introduce me to your new friends?" She asks sarcastically, waving at them all around Bucky's body. She recognizes Natasha's sister, Yelena, but that's about it. As she scans the rest of the group, however, she sees another face. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me." She says, watching John realize that she's locked in on him.

"No, no, no, Y/N, please, just let me explain," He grabs her around the waist when she starts to march over to him, because while he would never underestimate her he also knows that John is a different person with the serum in him.

"John fucking Walker, James? Really?" She yells, loud over the quiet, deserted street.

"James?" Yelena repeats with a small smile, and Y/N turns her murderous glare to the ex-Black Widow.

"Who the fuck are you people?" She asks, letting Bucky turn so he's facing the team and on Y/N's side.

"We're the Thunderbolts!" A large Russian man in a red yells, smiling widely. Y/N blinks, then looks at Bucky.

"That's not our name." He says to her, as if that actually matters.

"Oh my God," She whispers, because she's not sure what's actually going on anymore.

"I am Yelena. We've heard a lot about you, Y/N Stark." Yelena says with a smirk, and Y/N forces a tight smile. She puts emphasis on the last name, because even though they only knew each other briefly, Y/N had met Yelena in the Red Room once or twice.

"Thanks for the introduction. As for the rest of you, except off brand stars and stripes over here, could you please tell me what this is?" She asks, because she figures her fiancé isn't going to tell her now.

"We're a team." A girl in a completely grey suit says.

"Like the Avengers!" The man in the red suit yells, and Y/N turns to Bucky.

"No." He disagrees, and she just nods, eyes closed. "I swear to you, Y/N, I have tried to tell you, but I didn't know if you'd understand. I just, I needed to do something." And she gets it. She knows that he's been having this issue, and she knows it had to have been hard for him to tell her.

"I'm still mad at you." She says with a sigh.

"I know." He smiles, putting a hand on her back and pulling her forward to kiss her forehead. "Now, you should get out of here. We can take care of this." He gestures to the giant Void that was looming in the distance.

"I have to do my job, James, I can't just,"

"You can join us!" Red suit says once more, and Bucky turns to glare at him before Y/N can say anything. She jumps in, not wanting to deal with the threat that is probably going to come out of Bucky's mouth.

"I have a job. But this seems like such a great group." She says sarcastically, aiming it at John, who scowls.

"I am not that bad." He argues, and Bucky has to grab her arm to ensure she won't jump him.

"I don't think anyone has lost a job faster than you fucked up being Captain America, you absolute shit stick." She tells him, which clearly strikes a nerve.

"You wanna talk about losing Captain America? Are we sure Bucky here was your first choice?" John has that smirk that Y/N wants to slap right off his face, but she's not sure he wouldn't kill me.

"Are you kidding me?" Yelena yells over them, and Y/N knows she should feel like a scolded child, but she just feels rage at John Walker. "There's a goddamn Void behind us that is eating people, and you two are fighting over the fact that he annoys you?" She looks at Y/N, who is somehow even more angry

"Yelena, I don't know if you're mad at me because N,-" Bucky is placing his right hand over her mouth, knowing exactly what Y/N was about to say and how she was going to single handedly take this team down. Everyone was very volatile, and he knew that the slightest thing could set them off.

"Please, just let me handle this? I'll see you at home." He is not above begging, and he knows he has to in order to get her home.

"I was sent here for a reason." She argues, because she's not gonna let her man stop her from doing her job.

"By the time you get what you need, we'll have taken care of this. So just go home,"

"Do not tell me-"

"Y/N, please." He finally looks at her with big eyes, and she is trying to hold her ground.

"This is my job, James. Ya know, the job that pays for our apartment." She's not mad anymore, because she knows Bucky just wants to protect her. But she won't back down without a fight.

"What if I pick up dinner?" He sweetens the pot, and she sighs.

"If you're late, Barnes," She threatens, leaning up to kiss him. He smiles at his win.

"I won't be." He has no way of knowing if he'll be late or not, they both know this, but it's the thought that counts. She gives him one more kiss and then walks away, listening to the conversation between the Thunderbolts.

"Who woulda thought Bucky had a sugar mommy." John says, and while Y/N can't see it, she hears Bucky's fist meet his face and Yelena's laugh.

"You deserved that." The Russian man says, and Y/N couldn't agree more. 

//

taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch

[rafescherie]

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY — RAFE CAMERON

synopsisᝰ.ᐟ best friend's brother!rafe decides he'd lend a helping hand to reader when the stress of college becomes too much for her to handle

warningᝰ.ᐟ 18+ MDNI. perv!rafe, brother's best friend trope (reader is topper's sibling), pent perversions, manipulative tactics for sex, fingering + naive/inexperienced reader

cherie's note — best friend's brother!rafe is so yummy i had to try writing for him

the creak of the old hardwood floors were barely audible as the tall blond wandered the dimly lit hallways of your home, rubbing the exhaustion out of his eyes. he wasn't sure why he was awake — maybe the lingering effects of the party earlier, or the exhausting heatwave humidity that flooded the outerbanks.

he passed by a door, half-open. he had been here hundreds of times, his best friend topper, your brother, inviting him over to your home since before the pair were in middle school. he knew whose door it was before he even had to look.

yours.

leaning against the doorframe, he peered in, careful not to make a sound. you were lying on your stomach, completely focused and unaware of who creeped through the cracks, your laptop casting a faint blue light over your features. headphones in, brow furrowed, fingers lazily twirling a pen between them.

rafe smirked. of course, you were still up.

you were such a good girl. rafe knew this better than anybody — taking any chance he could to just watch as you stayed up for hours studying. unlike your brother, you hardly went out to the parties, or the bonfires — more concerned with the previous lecture or some stupid upcoming test.

for a second, he considered just watching — just like every other time. but the temptation was too strong. he rapped his knuckles lightly against the oak door of your bedroom.

"you always stay up this late?" his voice was low, rough from sleep.

your head snapped up, eyes widening slightly before you pulled out an earbud. "jesus, rafe." you huffed, setting your pen down. "what are you doing?"

he shrugged, testing the waters by taking another step closer, leaning against the doorframe. "couldn't sleep." his gaze flickered over your screen before settling back on you.

the loose pajama shorts tickled against the soft skin of your plump thighs, leg hoisted up just enough for rafe to see that lacey pair of panties hidden below. it was much more than your brother's best friend should ever see, but that was the last thing on your mind as your head pounded from all the homework. his blue eyes filled with exhaustion and curiosity at your state, taking another step onto the fuzzy carpet rug of your room.

"i'm uh-" you stutter, heart thundering against your chest at the advance, "i've been studying, s'why i'm still awake."

rafe quirked an eyebrow, finger dancing along your dresser — littered with trinkets of all sorts. his eyes linger on one item in particular, familiar to him as he remembers the time he had stolen a cheap hand carving at the flea market and gifted it to you. he could still remember the day he had gotten it for you — after finding out how your recent obsession was centred around seahorses, when his young eyes captured sight of the hand carving, he knew the goal in mind. after all these years, he was surprised you still had it.

"studying, huh?" a teasing smirk played at the corner of his mouth as his gaze dropped briefly to the scattered textbooks and notes covering your desk before meeting your eyes again, "at this hour? you're a real diligent student."

he stopped at the foot of your bed, hands shoved casually in the pockets of his low slung sweatpants. the thin fabric did little to conceal his strong, lean physique. up close, you could see the glint of mischief in his sleepy blue eyes.

"i know you've got a big test coming up soon..." he dragged out the words teasingly.

"mhm," you hum, scrolling through what felt like hundreds of digital pages of notes. your gaze flickers nervously between the laptop, and the man stood in front of you. "been studying for it all week, brain is starting to mush."

rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "mush huh? well, we can't have that..." in two long strides, he closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently shut the lid of your laptop. his fingertips brushed against yours, sending an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"how about you take a break, hm?" his voice was a low rumble, almost hypnotic in the quiet of the night. "i bet all this studying has you wound tighter than a coil. might do you some good to... relax."

the suggestive edge to his tone doesn't go unnoticed, "it's late, rafe..." you practically stutter, crimson blush flooding your cheeks at the thought of spending time with rafe alone. "besides, top's probably gonna be wondering where you are, soon."

rafe's lips curled into a roguish grin at the mention of your brother, looming over you with a predatory gleam in his eye. "topper? nah, he's dead to the world right now. passed out cold after that last beer."

his hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to trace the delicate shell. "plus," he murmurs, voice dropping an octave, "what top doesn't know won't hurt him. it'll be our little secret."

the air between you crackled with tension as rafe's gaze raked over your form, taking in the way your thin pajama tank top clung to your curves. he licked his lips unconsciously, "c'mon, sweet girl, live a little. promise i don't bite."

the moment of hesitation is apparent on your face — wide doe eyes staring back at the man who waits almost painfully for you to say something.

"alright," you start, voice a little too timid, unsure of yourself, "what do you have in mind?"

rafe's grin widened at your question, a flash of triumph in his eyes. "well, for starters..." he reaches out to trail a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin to meet his heated gaze. "how about i help you work out some of that pent=up tension? i've got a few ideas that might clear your head better than cramming."

his other hand found its way to your thigh, squeezing gently as he inched higher. "we could start with a nice, relaxing massage. get rid of all that stiffness from hunching over your books all night." his voice vibrates through you in a low purr, dripping with suggestion.

this felt wrong — so wrong. having rafe's hands on your bare skin, knowing your brother, his best friend, was only a few bedrooms down, the heat within your stomach pooled as the thrill of anticipation roared throughout your entire body. his touch was hot against your skin, leaving burning fingerprints in its wake. still, as his hand trailed up your thigh, you felt your body relax as you gave in to his suggestion.

his touch was electric as his hands began to knead the tense muscles of your shoulders and upper back. he worked slowly, deliberately, thumbs digging into knots you hadn't even known existed. leaning down, his breath ghosted hot air against your ear as he whispered, "that's it, just relax. let me take care of you."

his fingers traced the line of your spine, slipping beneath the thin straps of your tank top. with agonizing slowness, he pushed the flimsy material down, exposing more of your soft skin to the cool night air and his heated gaze.

continuing his sensual massage, his wandering hands seemed to 'accidentally' brush against your most intimate areas. his fingers grazed the curve of your ass as he reached for the small of your back, calloused fingers kneading deep within the plush flesh of your body.

lost in the new sensations, you barely register the inapprorate touches — his knuckles so clumsily skimming over your clothed mound, the brief contact sending a jolt to your core. too inexperienced to realize the significance, you had only played it off as a 'mistake', but rafe knew better.

the whimpers you let escape were hardly recognized internally as his calloused hands dug into the dimples of your back, working his magic at releasing the tension built up within your overworked muscles. each purr out of your throat had his hands slipping further and further, just like he had planned.

unbeknownst to you in your innocent state, rafe allowed his touch to linger longer on your clothed mound. his palm grazed the front of your panties as he adjusted your position, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

there was nothing wrong with this, you thought — rafe was helping you. his hands worked skillfully against the soft skin, eliciting the most delicious moans out of you with each touch. he was giving you a massage, this was as innocent as it could get, right? it wasn't like he gained anything from helping you out.

wrong. the foreign feeling of his fingers rubbing against your covered cunt, rubbing the slit between your puffy lips had your eyes shooting open in confusion, head rounded to look at him from over your shoulder, "rafe?"

rafe froze for a split second when you stuttered his name, fingers stilling against your clothed sex. but then, emboldened by your lack of immediate protest, he pressed on. his middle finger began to trace slow, deliberate circles over your covered pussy, feeling the heat emanating from your core.

"just relax, princess," he cooed softly, free hand sliding up to rest on your hip, holding you in place. "let me make you feel good."

he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, tongue darting out to taste your skin. all the while, his finger continued its maddeningly slow movements, rubbing you through the dampening fabric of your panties. the rough pad of his fingertip caught on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

the whine you let out was almost feral, worry spreading through you quickly at the thought of your own family walking in and seeing the situation in front of them. “t-this feels wrong, rafe..” but it felt so right at the same time.

a dark chuckle rumbled in rafe's chest at your conflicted words, his finger never ceasing its torturous dance over your weeping pussy, as if studying the anatomy of your body. "wrong?" he murmured huskily against your ear.

to punctuate his words, he hooked a finger in the waistband of your panties and tugged them aside, finally making direct contact with your slick folds. rafe groaned at the feel of your wet heat, stroking through your arousal with teasing lightness. "fuck, sweetheart... you're so wet already. your body knows what it wants, even if your pretty little head is confused."

his other hand slid up your torso to cup your breast through your tank top, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbled beneath the thin fabric.

you knew the blush on your cheeks was bright red as the warm feeling flooded your cheeks. it felt so foreign — his fingers exploring your sloppy folds, thumb occasionally sending firm strokes against your swollen clit.

"i-" you begin, the words breathy which each word you spoke, "i've never done this before, rafe."

your eyes meet his, blue eyes dark and blown with anticipation, with pure lust. he groans out at the confession, a wicked grin spreading across his face, "never? fuck, you're like the perfect little virgin sacrifice."

his fingers continued their relentless exploration of your untouched folds, circling your clit with the pads of his two fingers, applying just enough pressure to have you practically squirming beneath him. his free hand pushed the fabric of your tank top up to expose your breasts, his head dipping to capture one rosy peaky between his teeth, sucking greedily as he rolled the other nipple between his fingers.

"don't worry, baby. i'll teach you everything," he promised darkly, working to slowly pump two fingers inside of your tight pussy. "gonna ruin you for anyone else. by the time i'm done, this sweet cunt will only crave my touch."

moaning out at the sound of his words, his hand roughly slaps against your mouth, hips rutting desperately against yours as his thick fingers continued to fuck into you, "they'll hear us if you keep that up, angel. gotta be quiet for me, can ya do that?"

his thumb found your clit again, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he curled his fingers just right inside of you. he groaned out at the feeling of your walls pulsing around his digits, cock hurting against the fabric of his boxers at the feeling of how tight you were. rafe swallowed your needy whimpers with a deep, filthy kiss, tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.

you nodded frantically at his question, almost desperate. the chuckle he lets out is dark and primal, coming from a place of pure ego. nevertheless, the walls of your cunt fluttering and clenching around his plunging fingers. he wanted nothing more than to push you over the edge, to watch you come undone completely. he craved the feeling of freeing his aching cock and burying it deep inside your tight, virgin heat.

but even in his lust-addled state, rafe recognized the risk you were taking, hand still clamped over your mouth tightly to drown out the sounds of your pathetic whines. he could tell you were close, the way your eyes rolled and you clung onto his wrist — he was going to make damn sure he'd never forget this sight.

"you're so fucking wet for me, baby," he murmured appreciatively, voice low and husky. "this pretty pussy is practically begging for my cock."

despite his earlier restraints, rafe found himself unable to resist your needy pleas. he increased the pace of his touches, fingers pumping steadily in and out of your tight heat as his thumb rubbed firm circles on your poor clit. the obscene sound of your arousal filled the room as he fingered you, the obsessive mixture of squelching and subtle whining ringing through his ears like a song, destined to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

"feels so fucking good," you moan out, hand trailing down your soft body to make contact with your own clit. the action sent a groan through the man, adorning the way you worked yourself out of pure desperation for him.

"yeah?" he rasps, curling his fingers inside of you once more. "fuckin’ filthy slut, getting off with your brother's best friend? dirty girl..."

one of rafe's hands slid up to cover your mouth again, ready to muffle any loud cries as he pushed you over the edge. you were experiencing pure ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his warm breath tickled your neck. his hips rocked subtly against yours, seeking some much-needed friction for his own aching arousal.

"c'mon, be a good girl and cum on my fingers," he urged in a low, commanding tone. his words alone were enough to elicit that delicious high out of you, whines muffled against the warm palm of his hand. he held you tightly as your body shook and convulsed with the throes of your first orgasm, fingers still buried deep inside your tight velvet walls. he swallowed each keening cry that fell from your swollen, plump lips, muffling the sounds of your pleasure. rafe's own hips jerked involuntarily, grinding against your thigh as he watched you come undone.

"that's it, baby. cum on my fingers, just like that..." he praised breathlessly, voice strained with barely contained desire. even as your climax began to subside, rafe continued to slowly pump his digits in and out, drawing out every last wave of bliss.

finally, as your breathing stilled, he carefully withdrew his fingers from your overstimulated folds, coated digits slipping past his own lips as he made a show of licking them clean. your poor cunt clenched around nothing at the sight, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his sweats.

tugging your hand suddenly, he brings your open palm to the prominent tent below his torso, groaning at the contact. "feel what you do to me? how fucking hard i am for you?"

his hungry lips capture yours once more, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth like he was on a feverish mission — breathy sighs falling from his lips each time you stroked him through the cotton fabric of his sweatpants.

with great effort, he practically dragged your hand from his straining erection. his lips pressed a soft kiss to your warm forehead, dipping his head between your thighs to place the softest kiss to the tender, sensitive skin of your inner legs.

the mattress shifts underneath you, rafe standing back on to the fuzzy carpet of your bedroom. a pout flooded your features at the lack of sudden satisfaction, your body already eager for more. "i'll text you, yeah?"

it wouldn't be for a few days later that you'd receive that infamous, long-awaited text from your brother's best friend — audibly gasping as your eyes land on the perverted video of himself he had filmed for your eyes only.

[bluemoviegirl]

UNDER THE SAME SUN

joel miller x reader

summary: After a year of surviving alone in a brutal world, you finally find refuge in Jackson, Wyoming—but adjusting to community life proves just as challenging as the horrors outside. When you’re assigned to work with the town’s most gruff and unapproachable man (who happens to be really attractive, you'd never admit this though), Joel Miller, the two of you clash instantly. But as tensions rise and walls begin to crack, you realize there’s more beneath his hardened exterior and he sees sides of you he'd never expected—and maybe, just maybe, he’s exactly what you need to feel alive again.

wc: 4.1k

a/n: hii im rosa, really excited to share my first fic with you guys!! please comment what you thought of it. i'm still working on where i'll take the story so if you've got any cool ideas do let me know! <3

It’s about 20 years since the world fell. You’ve been through hell, as has everyone of course. After wandering alone for a year, you finally made it to Jackson, Wyoming—a place whispered about in rumors as a well-fortified, truly safe settlement. Survival had taken its toll, and after so much time alone, you’d grown accustomed to talking to yourself—or, at times, forgetting to speak altogether.

Now, two months in, adjusting to life among real people has been... an experience. The first month, you barely left your home, more focused on settling in than socializing. Not that anyone could tell—you hadn’t made the place feel like yours in any way. Your small one-bedroom apartment was as bare as the day you arrived, furnished only with the essentials. A functioning kitchen, a hot shower (which felt like the biggest luxury of all), a somewhat comfortable couch, and a simple king-sized bed with a closet across from it. It was enough.

Tommy Miller one of the community's leaders, came by to visit a few times the first month. Just checking in on you and bringing over things like soap and firewood. It was time for you to get out there and you knew it. Honestly you thought going to sleep every night would’ve been harder, with PTSD and all. But the bed was comfortable and you just snoozed away every night. That’s just nights though, during the day, when you were more alone with your thoughts, it became difficult. It's why you forced yourself to socialize with others. Else you’d get real bad anxiety doing just about anything. The thoughts of being back out in the infected world would come rushing in and you’d feel like you failed them all over again. That was in the past, why can’t you just forget about it? You tried to pick one of your old hobbies back up a week ago; drawing. But it didn’t last long before you started sketching the infected and that freaked you out so much you had thrown your notebook into the fireplace.

Today felt different, it was the end of November and it felt like another fresh start. You had made a couple of friends, which to your surprise, was something that actually came easily to you. So you decided to go to the bar. Not much for the drinks but for the vibe, all the people gathered together, laughing, chatting. It felt unreal it made you feel a joy you hadn’t felt in a while. So you came there often, quickly befriending the bartender, Knox. He was a big tough guy, probably around 60. His long beard had a thin braid in it which always made you wonder whether he braided it or if he had someone waiting for him at home. He didn’t speak much about himself though, always chatting away with everyone about anything and everything. Knox would sneak you an extra drink here and there if you laughed at his jokes hard enough.

You had felt a bit embarrassed going back to the Workshop to ask if they could get you a new sketchbook twice in the same week but you really wanted to get back into drawing. But now you were sat at the bar, slightly hunched over your sketchbook and you were doodling away. Nothing major or complete but at least the drawing was actually calming you a bit. A couple people had stopped by to chat with you and you soon felt as if you already belonged here. It wasn’t long until most of the bar stools were all occupied.

You’d noticed Tommy Miller taking a seat, two barstools from you. He was swirling his glass a bit, not looking particularly joyful but not too worrying. You contemplated making small talk but you were feeling like a social butterfly today.  “Hey, Tommy.” You said as you put down your pencil and closed your sketchbook. He looked up from his glass at you as he smiled. “Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there.” You shook your head, your hair had covered up your face from the side as it had fallen over your shoulder so of course he didn’t. You tucked your hair behind your ear and tugged a bit at your earlobe, a habit you always had when talking to people. Nervous tick you’ve done since you were little. You smiled back at him. “That’s okay. How are you and Maria?” When you just arrived at Jackson, you had taken a mental note that Tommy and Maria Miller were a married couple. They’re both community leaders and you thought it to be cute. Did they know each other before, or did they meet after? It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe things would work out like that for you too. Tommy’s eyes immediately light up a bit.

“We’re good, yeah. Real good. And you? I haven’t, uh, seen ya much around.” You felt a bit of a flush coming on your face, feeling a bit embarrassed with how anti-social you’d been for two months.

 “Yeah sorry- I was settling in. Getting used to all this-“

 You motioned to the place around you. He chuckled back at you.

“F’Course, it’s somethin’ to get used to, that’s damn sure.”  

We had a moment of silence, both not knowing what to say or whether we’d turn back to our own business.

 “I’ve heard good things about ya already. You must be leaving good impressions on people huh.”

He tells you, as he sips his beer.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. I mean, I try. Being alone for a year with no one to talk to, means I can barely stop yappin’ now that there’s actual people that’ll listen.” You chuckled before asking him a question.

 “I was actually wondering, when I could get started on a job here? I would really like to give back to the community.”

 You’ve been wanting to give back to the community since you arrived, feeling guilty eating their food, using their hot water when you’ve given nothing in return.

 “Oh yeah, we got plenty to do around here. It’s really your pick but, I don’t know if you’re handy but we could use your help on repair. We’re a man short-”

 “I’d love to help.”

 He looked you up and down, you didn’t really look like you’d be good with a hammer. Besides from maybe, smashing in an infected head.. But it couldn’t be that hard. Yes, you did look like the typical girl, you still wore your jewelry from before the apocalypse which consisted of 2 rings on each hand, a couple bracelets and a locket necklace that always hung around your neck, you weren’t particularly buff looking and people would probably peg you as a flowers and baking type but you didn’t mind living up to that stereotype. Before Tommy could continue the conversation, Tommy’s head turned to the entrance door.

“Speaking of things in need of a fixin’.” Tommy grinned as he watched his friend walk in.

The man stepped in with his broad shoulders and a steady, purposeful gait. His dark hair, was peppered with gray at the temples, and a scruffy beard covered his jaw. His eyes, a deep brown, scanned the room with a quiet intensity, as if constantly assessing everything around him. His worn jeans and flannel shirt were well-suited to the rugged life he'd lived, and his stance—confident but reserved—made it clear he wasn’t someone to be easily approached.

"Joel," Tommy greets him, and the man offers a curt nod in return. You watch as Tommy claps him on the back, and they share a brief conversation as the man takes the stool next to yours. His back is to you, he didn’t glance your way. Joel.

You go back to your sketchbook, feeling a bit dismissed. But then you hear Tommy mentioning your name to Joel. “You two met yet?” Tommy looks at me and back at Joel. You shook your head no as you reached out to shake Joel’s hand. He sure took his sweet time to turn and shake yours back. He glanced at you for a moment before looking back at Tommy, obviously wondering where Tommy’s going with this. You couldn’t deny it though, the man was attractive. Maybe a good bit older than you- wait, why are you even thinking about the age difference.. Maybe it’s been too long since you’ve actually seen a man that caught your eyes.

“I was just tellin’ her we needed another set of hands for repair. She said she’s up for it.” Tommy said to Joel. “M’fine doin’ it myself.” Joel said, shooting down Tommy’s idea. And yours as well, you were perfectly capable of helping with a repair. Tommy shook his head no, “I ain’t letting you go to the outpost by yourself. We have rules here, y’know that.” Joel seemed well familiar with the rules as he gave no emotion back besides a slight frown. Joel turned to you and glanced you up and down quickly, his eyes either lingering shortly on your chest, or the gold locket you had hanging around your neck.

“You sure you capable?”

“Yeah I-“

“Y’know how to use a rifle?”

The interruption surprised you and you must’ve taken too long to answer cause Joel filled in the answer for himself.

“M’ fine doin’ it myself.” Joel said as he turned back to Tommy, who was rolling his eyes. You weren’t great with rifles really, always hated using guns. You were good with a bat, which sounded a bit silly so you stayed quiet. “Just go together tomorrow morning, scope out the place and see if you guys are able to get some work in. She’s tougher than she looks.” Tommy said, smiling to you. You appreciated him sticking up for you but it also made you feel a bit weak.

Normally you would’ve let it go, you’d have found another job to do. But something about this Joel guy, and the stoic demeanor he gave, it annoyed you. Like you needed to proof yourself, which made you feel even sillier. Proof yourself to a man? Please. But maybe, you and Joel could get along and he just needed some warming up to. You were a tad low on the friend department anyway.

---------

Though the next morning, you regretted even thinking that. It started with gathering the horses. You weren’t able to get up on your horse, and he just sat on his horse, watching you struggle. When you finally got up, you swore you saw a slight curl tugged at the corner of his lips but it disappeared as soon as you went to look again.

You two were riding next to each other in mostly silence. You had spoken a few times but would never get a response. The only sounds you could hear were the horses and the snow crunching underneath their hooves. Should you make small talk again?  You were someone who could talk anyone’s ears off but Joel didn’t exactly give off the vibe that he’d be open to that.

“So how do you know Tommy?” You say, the words spitting out before you were even done deciding.

Joel didn’t look at you as he replied.

“Was at his birth.”

You knitted your brows and stared at his face which just had a blank expression on them, opposite of yours cause that answer had your gears turning. At his birth? What?? Your silence said enough to Joel, you didn’t get it.

 “Tommy’s my brother.” ... “Oh.”

“You always this chatty?” Joel muttered. “You always this grumpy?” you shot back.

You felt annoyed that that was the only reply you could come up with. “Did you just make a joke?” You grinned just the tiniest bit, was Joel Miller making jokes? The man who had been riding his horse silently for an hour and didn’t even glance your way once?

“Didn’t think you had that in you.” You commented.

Joel’s hands tightened briefly on the reins, but he didn’t say anything. You could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched. His brows knitted together ever so slightly as he glanced to you and back to the road ahead.

“So how much longer?”

 Joel didn’t answer.

“What are we even repairing?”

Still no reply. When you’ve given up on small talk he finally replies to your question.

 “Floorboards of one of the outposts.”

 “Ah, is it moldy or something?”

 “No.” His voice was flat, almost bored.

“They warped?” “No.” “Well, something’s wrong with ‘em if we’re going all the way out here.” He sighed like this was the last conversation he wanted to be having. “Just needed fixin’.” “Vague and unhelpful. Got it.

Y’know,” You hear Joel sigh again when you start a new sentence. “I had that a while ago, the cabin me and- the cabin I was staying in, the entire floor started warping cause, I assume, water damage? Mold? I don’t even know. I once tripped over them badly, hit my face so hard I still have the scar.”

You were rambling, he made you nervous. You didn’t get why, you met the man yesterday and he’d maybe looked at you like, 3 times all together. Yet you still wanted to chat with him, maybe even see what he’d look like if he ever smiled.

“The scar at the end of your eyebrow.”

He spoke before thinking, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he froze for just for split second before going back to regular Joel, you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already staring at him. The detail he mentioned was really specific—something he'd only know if he'd actually observed you right? A brief look of regret crossed his face, and he seemed to wish he hadn't said it at all. Maybe the scar was just that obvious. It was tiny though, just at the end of your brow, a little above it. It was a scar that blended in with your face, your hair usually covering it anyway. You remember the aching pain you had for days every time you’d move your eyebrows, which was something you did a lot. You were always very expressive.

“Yea. Didn’t think it was that noticeable.” You reply softly as you rub the back of your neck.

“It isn’t.”  His voice firm.

It isn’t. Yet, he noticed it even though he’s barely looked you in the eyes. You shake off the thought.

---------

You two finally arrived at the outpost. The outpost was a small, rugged place, tucked away on the edge of the wilderness. Wooden walls creaked in the wind, patched up with scrap metal and makeshift barriers.  There was a worn-down feeling to the place—like it had seen its share of hard days. You both hitched your horses and you waited for Joel to lead. He stayed vigilant, like he was the entire ride, checking every corner, making sure nothing slipped past him—especially any signs of infected.

“Gather some of the wood.”

He said, nudging his head to the pile of wood a couple feet away.

“Yes boss.”

 You mumbled quietly as you rolled my eyes, stuffing the urge to mockingly salute him. Joel had entered the outpost and you followed shortly after you bring the wood outside the outpost, not knowing what you’d walk into.

“Watch your step.” Is what you heard seconds before slipping and falling into Joel’s arms.

As you slipped over something wet, and stumbled backward, you felt his hands instinctively reach out to catch you. One hand gripped your arm, steadying you, while the other slid around your waist, pulling you against him. Your heart raced as his touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, fingers pressing firmly into the curve of her back. The close proximity made your breath hitch. “Shit!” You yelped. You had almost fallen completely backwards, which would’ve been okay if there wasn’t a smashed in infected body behind you.

“I said, watch your step.” Joel said, a bit softer  but still annoyed.

 Your hands had gripped Joels arm when he had wrapped it around your waist when you slipped. As you realize the two of you were still entangled, you quickly stood up and Joel let you go as he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t expect there to be a pool of blood and a literal infected.” You said, not glancing at the infected, you hated seeing them.

“Yeah, must’ve forgot to mention it.” Joel replies gruffly.

Douchebag.

 You now got a chance to really look at the interior. It wasn’t much. You finally understood why the floor needed repairing, the wood was split and to your surprise, very warped.

“The wood is warped.” You say, crossing your arms, remembering Joel said no when you asked if it was warped. He just didn’t want you to be right, did he? Jackass. He just shrugged as he kneeled down, he starts lifting some of the floorboards. It doesn’t take much for them to release from the ground, so it seems.

“Shouldn’t we get rid of the infected body first?”

“Be my guest.”

You scoffed at his reply. You really didn’t want to get near it but you also didn’t want it stinking up the place even further. You sigh, extra loud, turning your head to Joel to make sure he heard you. He ignores it.

You decide on grabbing a shovel and shoving the infected away.  You noticed Joel raising a brow when he turned to look at what you were doing, but he soon turned back and said nothing as he continued removing the floor. After what felt like ages, you got the infected body out and cleaned up the area.

“How’d the infected get in here?” You said as you walked towards Joel’s eyesight.

“Dave was here a couple days back. Managed to kill the infected before realizing the man himself was already bit.” Joel said, he spoke calmly about this Dave, as if he didn’t care as to whether the guy would live or die.

“So where’d Dave go after he was bit? Seeing I’ve only dragged one-” You motioned the number one with your finger, “-body out of this place.”

Joel looked up at you, clenching his jaw for a moment.

“Dead. Now, are you going to help remove any of the floorboards or gonna continue chattin’ my ears off?”

You weren’t even saying that much.

“Yeah yeah, calm your horses.” You mumbled.

 Joel narrowed his eyes before going back to the floorboards. You walk to the other end of the room, and decide to start there. You roll up your sleeves, ready to show you’re actually capable of doing stupid repair. You grip one end of the floorboard and pull it up, as hard as you can. But there’s no movement, like, at all.

For a second you feel like you’re on a prank show, you glance over to Joel who had lifted at least half of the floorboards out already. Yet you weren’t strong enough to even lift one? Come on. You kept pulling, teeth gritting, muscles (what muscles?) flexing. Yes, you had survived being by yourself in the apocalypse for over a year but you never really grew very strong muscle. You survived by being careful and quiet, not looking for the danger, so you rarely fought.

 “Fucks sake.”

 You grunt, sitting on the floor and looking over at Joel, who was already looking your way.

“What’re you doin’? I ain’t got all day.”

“I’m trying!”

Joel mumbled something as he walked over.

“Move.”

 He said as he started gripping the floorboard where you were holding it. Joel was being tough but when he couldn’t get the floorboard to budge either, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah yeah, mr. Strong. Lift it up then.” You grinned.

His narrowed eyes met yours briefly before turning back. He was obviously using all his strength to attempt to get it out.

“You’re gonna pull a muscle.” You say, making sure to fit another jab in there to annoy him.

You enjoyed it a bit too much, seeing him struggle after he so obviously judged you for not being able to lift it.

Just when you laugh a little too hard, the floorboard suddenly pops out, of course, hitting you in the head and causing Joel to stumble a bit. “Fuck!” You, who was previously sat, is now laying back, leaning on your elbows as the floorboard had just hit your forehead real hard. Your hand immediately rose up to your forehead and you looked back at your fingers. Blood. Joel’s eyes widened a bit, obviously not meaning to do that.

 “My bad.” He mumbles, in a gruff acknowledgement.

He kneeled a bit closer to you as you sat back up, he was looking at the wound, both your faces just inches apart. You had a little wound on the left side of your forehead, yes it was bleeding and yes it might look bad, but it wasn’t anything worth worrying about, Joel thought so at least. He was inspecting the wound but didn’t look worried. He honestly looked like he couldn’t care less.

“Is it bad?”

“S’fine. You’ll live.” He said before standing back up, and walking to his bag. He walks back with a band-aid. It’ll have to do for now. You take it from his hand, your fingers grazing. “It’s getting late, we’re headin’ back.” 

You nod as you felt your forehead throbbing. You felt the urge to cry, you didn’t but you wanted to. Today was just a shitty day and you’d spent it with a shitty man.

On the ride back to the settlement, you were quiet. Thinking about how today felt like a bit of a fail, you had gotten like 2 floorboards out and the rest was done by Joel while you had sat there with a throbbing forehead. So much for proving yourself.

--

Joel and Tommy were sat at the bar, their usual spot if they had something to discuss.

“Y’need to get me another partner for the repair.” Joel said before taking a gulp of beer.

Tommy just looked at Joel in a way of saying: ‘Seriously’?

“M’serious. She keeps on talking a mile a minute. Can’t even focus without her asking some annoyin’ questions”

Tommy finally let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “She really that bad, or is it just you bein’ you?”

Joel shot him a look.

“Pretty face, empty head Tommy, I’m tellin’ you.” Joel has his elbows leaning on the bar as he looks down at his glass and back up at Tommy.

“I’d love to relieve you of your ‘torture’ but I ain’t got anyone to fill her shoes right now. After losing Dave like that- Not many people are willin’.”

“People are scared ‘cause one man died from an infected? You’ve softened them up.”

“Dave wasn’t just ‘one man.’ He was a good leader. People trusted him. And now he’s gone. You should know better than anyone what that kind of loss does to people.” Tommy says, obviously feeling the impact it left on him when Dave died. Joel clenched his jaw but didn’t argue.

Dave was one of the community leaders, known to be real good around infected. So when he died, it scared folks.

 “You’re doin’ another repair job with her, whether you wanna or not. It’s a week from now, Maria said it’d be a good idea if you actually tried to get to know her. She’s more than a ‘pretty face’ and who knows, you might actually like her.” Tommy said, putting emphasis on Joel’s previous ‘pretty face’ comment, a cheeky smirk tugging at Tommy’s lips.

Joel let out a dry, humorless laugh.

Tommy smirked, clearly enjoying this too much. “Alright, fine. Maybe not like her. But at least tolerate her.”

Joel scoffed as he gave Tommy a narrowing glance as Joel chucked the last bit of beer down before standing up.

“Doubt that.”

And with that, he grabbed his jacket and walked out, already dreading next week.

[aonemanarmy]

The battle for the madman's soul was over – Jenova could feel it. There was never any doubt in the creature's mind that it would emerge victorious, for what hope did a pitiful human stand against a being older than their own galaxy? It was impossible and had Jenova been capable of feeling emotions in the same way that a human being could then surely a feeling of triumph would've been present, but all the creature felt was a cold sense of satisfaction.

'At last you accept the truth.'

Resist as he might Sephiroth was still Jenova's and Lucrecia presented the creature with an opportunity to seize back control. All because the foolish scientist sought to dredge up old memories and traumas that left the otherwise perfect tool vulnerable to outside influence.

Truly the woman hadn't learned a thing. Now her mistakes were about to offer up Jenova exactly what the creature needed. Jenova only needed to continue to press the woman, who in turn would push Sephiroth further into letting his guard down. When that happened then Jenova would strike.

'Willingly you offered up the child upon the altar of science for the sake of your own hubris. In return you gained the knowledge which you so coveted, so it is quite selfish of you to try to take back what was freely given. Besides, is a broken man worth sacrificing all of that precious knowledge that you've desired? All that you had longed to possess all those years ago?'

While Jenova's focus was upon Lucrecia the madman was left to try to sort through his own tangled thoughts and the gnawing feeling that something was off. Truly, it disturbed him that any part of him was second guessing his initial judgment as the last time that had happened had nearly led him to ruin. Still, that small voice he'd thought long dead quietly nagged at him – the boy he'd once been and that had longed for a mother continuing to linger and cling to a hope that would never come.

He hated it.

“The vessel is unimportant so long as it allows me to do what I will.” He responded to the woman's query about his current form not being his 'true' body. It was surprisingly observant for her since Sephiroth hadn't thought she would've noticed given that they'd never met – at least as far as he was aware. “What I construct now is far superior to what once was.”

Whether Lucrecia understood what he meant or not was hardly of any concern to him. The woman may have claimed to be his mother but regardless of who she was he knew that she could never fully appreciate the great work he was set to accomplish. Any time now he would emerge from stasis like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon and enter into the world a being beyond mortal comprehension – a god made reality.

What if it's true...? 'That quiet voice spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence, as if hesitant to make itself known. What if she really is her?

Sephiroth scoffed at the voice, finding himself growing irritated by its' persistence. It should be dead and he wanted it to stay that way, since what sort of god had any use of something so pathetic?

She is a liar and if by some chance that were not true then she is scum. Sephiroth countered, seeking to drive the small voice back. It would mean that she willingly discarded us, sacrificed us for her own ends. If what she says is true, then she is no better than that wretched little man that tortured us each and every day for the sake of his research – no, she would be worse since no mother would do such a thing.

Had Lucrecia spoken the truth than all she earned would be Sephiroth's ire and she would deserve it. It was the only suitable reward for her betrayal.

“I have always been alone in this miserable world.” Sephiroth said coolly, walking past Vincent and Lucrecia toward the mouth of the cavern where the reddened sky could be seen just beyond the surface of the falling water. “As it was, so shall it be.”

'Yes, let this farce be put to rest.' Jenova's wordless voice drifted back inside Sephiroth's mind, the creature eager to press the gap in the man's defenses. 'Show her your work and see how openly she will cast aside all pretenses of being any different.'

Sephiroth silently lifted a hand and pointed beyond the waterfall, bidding Lucrecia to step beyond the cavern of her self-imposed prison and into the outside world once more. Once she did so would she be able to bear witness to the true extent of the madman's suffering and the vengeance he sought to take upon the world that had gleefully destroyed him long before he'd ever been born.

Only then could she possibly understand.

Perhaps Sephiroth had seen her actions more of a ploy or an act of ignorance. He certainly had the right of it. So much of what Sephiroth had endured were due to terrible experiments that were kept well under lock and key. Hardly anyone alive understood what all was involved. It had only been Gast, Hojo, and Lucrecia when Sephiroth’s creation had been executed; and now only Lucrecia was left alive. Her expression remained soft and comely at Sephiroth’s question. He didn’t have to believe anything she said… even if it pained her. She knew this was merely the result of her actions.

A pained smile crossed her lips in response to Sephiroth’s words. “I cannot easily die, no… and neither can you. But it’s not completely impossible, either.” She stood silent, observing Sephiroth with keen interest. “This… isn’t your true body, is it??” she mused allowed. She had sensed something was off about Sephiroth, but perhaps he had separated his spirit from his physical body. In other words… she had felt he had physically died, even if Vincent had denied it at one point. Yet, here he stood, seemingly alive and well. But was it truly him in the flesh? A slight sense of guilt came over Vincent as he didn’t want Lucrecia to know that her son had been killed; and now he was rebuilding his body to become something akin to a god of sorts. She knew her son was long gone. Thus, it pained Vincent to see her persist. He too had held the belief that there was possibly some ounce of humanity in Sephiroth. But deep inside, he knew that was long gone. Now he stood and watched Lucrecia suffer through the same fruitless endeavor. Only he knew she would never give up. After all, it was only natural for a mother to yearn for her son, no matter how far gone he was. Though he stood before her, he was many galaxies away from her.   “In theory,” she quietly began as she continued to address Sephiroth’s question. “A strong will of another can break the chain of immortality. If it can bind you to life eternal, then so too can it break it. And your will is strong…” Her words fell solemnly, knowing Sephiroth had the strength and will to tear her down. It was simply a matter of testing it out. …perhaps she was forever a scientist after all. A mixture of anger and sadness loomed over Vincent’s face as he watched their interactions. He knew there was nothing he could do to prevent Lucrecia from desiring this suicidal request. He knew the suffering that came with being denied release. And yet… ‘Why do you care..?’ Lucrecia shook her head. “…It may seem meaningless to you,” she spoke thoughtfully. “I know I cannot turn back time. And I know you’ll never see me as a mother… I don’t deserve it. You deserve peace. I just wish I could give it to you… somehow.” She stayed her arms for a moment before slowly lowering her arms. Sephiroth wouldn’t even draw comfort from killing her, simply because she was nothing to him. It was one thing to be hated, but it was another to be nothing. Even in that, Hojo still managed to make an impression on Sephiroth. And she… utter nothingness. She truly meant nothing to Sephiroth, and never would ever mean anything. Lucrecia lowered her head. “…Is it wrong for me to give up?” Vincent lifted his head when he heard Lucrecia’s voice crack. Even if she was merely asking the question, he could tell she had already chosen to end the battle for her son. Her hazel eyes eventually landed on Vincent’s, brimming with tears afresh. The sight tore his heart once again. Not an ounce of hope was left in her. “Jenova’s right… It’s no use.” At this point, Vincent didn’t have a heart to encourage her any longer and didn’t give a response. He could practically feel Jenova triumphantly taunting Lucrecia. Without waiting for a response, Lucrecia gave Sephiroth one last look. “…I’m sorry… for everything.”

[sirbonesly]

LowStandards!Reader/Simon Riley pt.1

You've had plenty of relationships that you'd classify as 'shitty', but none of them lasted longer than your last ex, Jason. When your friends called him manipulative, you always brushed them off, said he was better than the other guys, that he actually showed some care. He helped out around the house when you asked (begged him to with promise of a blowjob) and he always listened when you said you didn't feel like sex (it always took a few tries, and sometimes you'd just let him keep going because he got in that 'state'). But things came to a head a few months after the new neighbour, Simon, moved in.

Simon is nice, polite. He helps you with groceries when the lift is broken (more often than not, it's out of order) and he never asks for anything in return. You've never seen much of his face, always wearing a medical face mask, or a balaclava during the colder winter months. It had been good, though Jason was completely unaware of your kindness towards the stranger. You had tried to convince yourself that the guilt about talking and smiling with your neighbour was because you needed to stay loyal to Jason, and not because you knew, deep down, that Jason was not a good man.

A few months after Simon moved in is when everything happened. Jason had gotten mad because once again, you didn't want to have sex tonight, had wanted a quiet date night at home. Things escalated, he started shouting, and then a vase is shattering against the wall you share with the new neighbour. When the lamp follows nearly a minute later, you lock yourself in the washroom, frozen with a fear you hadn't felt since that time someone tried mugging you and your father years ago.

But then the shouting stops, Jason isn't banging on the door anymore, and there's an eerie silence. You don't dare open the door, having been dragged to one too many seminars by your friends (all attempting to convince you that Jason is a piece of garbage.) So you listen, hear muffled voices getting louder, and louder, until they suddenly stop and someone hits the floor.

Worry for your boyfriend has you opening the door, and a horrible part of your mind wonders what will happen if Jason is alright. It wouldn't be the first time he's gotten rough, has pushed you around or gripped too tightly. But he's angrier than you've ever seen him, and that fear is gripping tight.

The sight that greets you as you slowly peak around the corner is one that makes your stomach sink and a desperate part of your mind want to smile. Simon is on the ground, one hand holding Jason's arm behind his back, and the other around Jason's throat in a choke hold. You're frozen, split between wanting to stop Simon, and wanting to see what he'll do to Jason.

"Don't just stand there! Get your guard dog off of me, you psycho whore!"

Jason's cry for help, though the words confuse you a bit, has you moving. Small steps, socked feet padding along the floor as Simon finally looks up at you, coming to a stop next to him. You look at the broken shards of glass on the floor, the lamp and vase that you had picked out all on your own because Jason couldn't be bothered to help furnish your new flat. The flat you bought because you wanted to be closer to him.

"You alright, luvie?"

Your eyes are burning, tears wanting to fall but you stubbornly wipe them away. Not answering Simon's question, not actually sure how you're doing, you grab Jason's phone and his wallet. Simon hauls Jason to his feet, being extra rough about it as Jason grunts and curses at the massive man.

There's a numbness growing in your chest, blocking out Jason's curses and crude words, the ways he's struggling against Simon's iron grip. Your neighbour shows no sign of struggling to hold your boyfriend, and honestly, it's a little pathetic to watch Jason.

How many times did he tell you that struggling only made things hurt more? How much of his knowledge of bondage was real when the knots he tied hurt and would dig into your skin? Jason would boast that you were lucky he was around to help fix things, always a few days too late after Simon already fixed it. It always gave him ammunition to call you crazy, say you're wasting his time. This was just the last straw.

It doesn't take long, a single word while shoving Jason's phone and wallet at him, any protests shut down quick by Simon practically throwing him into the hall, and suddenly Jason is now your ex-boyfriend. When the door finally slams shut, with a few choice words thrown at you, a homophobic slur added to it, Simon is already pulling you into his arms.

"It's alright, luvie. I'm here, not going anywhere, come sit on the couch, come on."

[sleepyorchidmonster]

Okay, but what if Riddle attempts to fight Malleus alone to buy Idia some time?

Like, we know Riddle is both reckless and confident in his power, also, if timed correctly, Off With Your Head can be make a difference in a fight, and even Leona was having trouble with it (granted it was normal not-overblotted Leona and this is Malleus we're talking about).

It can also play with the reveal that Riddle thinks everyone hates him, so he convinces himself that the least he could do is make sure Idia stays safe, both for the mission and Ortho (and maybe he's feeling guilty because last he checked Ortho required urgent repairs and it's his fault). Or maybe Riddle just feels like his lack of understanding of technomancy is not being helpful enough andhe is eager to actually do something right (he doesn't understand the situation and, as far as he can tell, everything went wrong after his dream).

And then Idia has to stop his doomed typing with a side of panicked ramblings to take a deep breath and tell the 17-year-old kid to "Calm Down. We're not dead yet, and I'm not letting you go on a suicide mission."

And before Riddle can make a counter-argument, Idia is already following up with some extra points:

1) "Yeah we're both housewardens and troublemaking SSRs. I'm also older so I'm supposed to be the responsible one here."

2) "Technomancy is my domain, so if I say you're doing okay, you're doing okay. It's natural for veteran players to carry the noobs when they're just starting out!"

3) "You're a powerful DPS, but you're also a glass canon. Meta dictates that good DPS units need great supports, and I'm trying to summon them with negative gacha pulls and a dream here!!!!"

4) "If we open the door to let you fight Malleus, then the door will have been opened anyway, and that guy can multitask like a PRO..."

5) "You know chess right? Great. We're currently in check, with the only thing between total anihilation being a Rook (A.K.A. my precious door) and the Queen (A.K.A. you). The lil' pawns may have metamorphosized into a murderous army, but there's still a whole board between us, so we have to hold on!!!"

6) "And before you get the chess analogy wrong, I am NOT keeping you around just because of your magical power. You're a TEENAGER not a weapon, for crying out loud. Did you really think I'd be that stupid?? Ortho is literally my brother and I'd rather DIE than treat him like a weapon!"

7) "Is it really that hard to understand that I don't actually hate you? Sure, you have zero E.Q. and is in my "Top 5 Most annoying Students in NRC", but I don't want you dead! Who would drag me to dormhead meetings then? Vil and Ortho need a buddy who's not afraid to break the doo- NOT NOW MALLEUS"

8) "I actually like being alive and don't want Trey and Cater to kill me, and neither that freaky cat friend of yours. Or Floyd, Kalim, Sebek, Silver, Vil..."

Idia: And that would be all! Thank you for coming to my TED Talk! Now, I know the Final Boss is right outside that door, but why don't you read a manga or two to pass the time? You've already helped me A LOT, so why don't you rest a bit?

Malleus, from the other side: You should listen to Shroud, Rosehearts. I will even refrain from tearing the door down while you read, rest assured!

Malleus: Also, who gave you the idea that everyone hates you? I just want to have a pleasant chat with them! Lillia taught me the importance of understanding the point of view of others! :)

Meanwhile the others are trying to use Meet Me in a Dream while driving a gigantic Blastcycle so they can speedrun the dream hopping and get back to Idia's dream so they can make sure Idia is okay (Ortho), complete the final stage of the plan (the others) and locate Riddle (Heartslabyul and Equestrian Club mostly, but everyone's at least worried that he's MIA). Also Silver is resting while Ace uses his UM and Deuce drives.

Leona got what he wanted (a better mean of transportation between dreams) but at what cost (two freshmen at the wheel, and they're not the competent robot kid).