#feel free to ask me anything else if it takes me a while to get to it assume I'm busy or I forgot and that it's not out of malice 😭

[split-spectrum]

JUST RUIN ME

Pairing: Joel Miller/FemReader

Tags/Warnings: explicit content, age gap, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, sort-of enemies to lovers (annoying coworkers to lovers?), guilt kink, corruption kink

Length: 8.3K

Summary: Your relationship with Joel Miller is antagonistic at best, until an event in the woods leaves him guilty. As you become closer over time, you try to make him see that he's the only one you can trust. But the one thing you want is the one thing he isn't willing to give.

☆☆☆

Where the hell does he get off talking to you that way?

You sink into the repeating pattern of frustration, your mind humming the same old bars - Who does he think he is? Why won't he just cooperate like the rest of you? How does he do this to you every time?

As you stalk through the forest, your head is still echoing with your latest bout. He's been shrugging you off, pushing back every time your paths cross. Each time, you think, this will be it - you're going to make him look you in the eyes and answer your questions. You're going to find out what he's doing here. What his intentions are.

It never happens.

Since Joel and his brother joined your group a few weeks ago, you've been on more on-edge every day. It's like the closer you get to Boston, the more reactive you are. The more it feels like there is at stake. And now, here are Joel and Tommy - two unknowns. It's unsettling. And Joel's closed-off demeanor isn't helping.

So, you break the rules, just this once. You've been on the road for months without a moment of real privacy. The group had decided long ago that nobody left camp with less than two people, for safety. But right now, you're tired of the rules. You need to get away, and you already know the area. You'd scouted the location as part of a pair earlier in the day, and you'd seen a few rabbits along the way. It's the perfect excuse to get some time to clear your head.

You hear a rustling in the tall grass and train your rifle on it, only to lose the rabbit as it tears off into the woods. You didn't even have time to think about lining up a shot. Joel is taking up too much space in your head right now. Nothing else is even making a dent.

You all have things you'd rather keep personal, but he didn't have to be such an asshole about it. He didn't have to get up and walk away like you weren't even worth his time.

And he didn't have to tell you off in that smooth, authoritative voice of his, either.

"I just asked where you're from, that's all. What is your problem? The rest of us are open with each other. If I had my way, that's how it would have to be for everyone in this camp - no secrets. No strangers. Just honesty."

"S'a good thing you don't make the decisions 'round here, then, ain't it?"

Your face burns with equal parts embarrassment and irritation.

Shit. Here comes another rabbit that you aren't ready for.

You make a half-hearted effort to raise up your rifle again, only realizing too late that the thing emerging from the grass is much bigger than what you've been hunting.

The creature gurgles, crawling and then lunging at you while you choke on a scream.

Stumbling backward, you throw up an arm against its chest, pushing the gnashing teeth from your face and using your other hand to yank on the tattered remains of a jacket around its shoulders. It does no good, and in a matter of seconds your arms are caught in a too-human grip as it throws you to the ground. The noise in your throat finally escapes as panicked whimpering.

You are about to die.

That's all you have time to think before a gunshot rings out in the clearing.

The infected thrashes wildly, sprawling over you and eventually going still. Hyperventilating, you look around for anything else that might emerge from the tall grass while you're pinned beneath the dead weight.

There's only silence, and your frantic breathing.

When nothing else comes, you try to free your legs, and after struggling to get enough purchase against the ground, you drag yourself out from underneath it, gasping for air.

"Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ...."

You repeat it absently, mind half-gone with fear as you look behind you, searching for the source of the gunshot.

Joel steps through the trees in the distance, reloading as he glances around the area, waiting for more to emerge. As you stumble toward him on shaking legs, he brings his eyes over to you.

"Sh-shit. Thank you," you tell him, hating the way your voice is trembling. You've seen infected before, even killed a few, but this is the closest you've ever come to a bite. You can't hide your fear; can't save face now.

He nods stiffly. "Alright?"

"Yeah." You cough, trying to swallow and nod your head at the same time. "Yeah, yeah, I think so."

"You think so?"

His question sinks in. You force yourself to stop coughing and get somewhat more composed. Then you nod again. "I'm fine."

He looks over your shoulder, still watching your surroundings. "What are you doin' out here on your own?"

"I was... hunting."

You've almost closed the gap between you, and Joel takes one step back.

"Rule is, no less than two."

You blink. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. But... I scouted this area earlier. I didn't think it would be a problem."

"Well, now we got a problem."

You stop walking toward him. "What?"

"You've been out here on your own for how long?" he asks.

You're silent.

"How long?"

"Just a little while."

Admitting it's been hours is not going to help your case.

"Any more of those?"

You shake your head. "That was the first I saw."

"And you said you're fine."

"Yes," you insist. "It didn't bite me. I swear."

His dark eyes run over your body, and he stands still, clearly listening for anything else that might be out there. The tension grows thick, and when he finally speaks again, it's low, and grave, and final.

"I'm gonna need to see."

Your heart skips a beat. "What?"

He gives an abrupt nod downward. "You're gonna get your clothes off, and we're gonna see if you're telling the truth before we head back to camp."

Your whole face flushes with heat. Something shifts inside you, the gravity of the situation hitting you in the stomach.

"I am not doing that."

"Then I'm not takin' you back."

"I'll go on my own."

When you take a quick step to walk past him, he trains the end of his rifle on you. "No, you won't."

You freeze, locking eyes with him. He shoulders the gun so easily, like it's second nature. He isn't jumpy, hands tense on the grip. Just steady. Matter-of-fact.

"S'like you said before," he tells you. "We're strangers. And you already lied to me once."

You give a questioning look and he shakes his head. "Nobody's seen you since you talked to me. Been out here for hours."

Your breath tightens. He didn't show up by chance. They sent him. And they didn't send someone who knew you well - someone to keep you safe. They sent him because they knew he wouldn't have a problem putting you down if it needed to be done.

Or maybe...

Maybe they didn't send him at all. Maybe you're just alone in the woods with a man who's holding a gun and telling you to take your clothes off.

There's no point in wondering. Your options are the same.

"I-" Your voice breaks on the single syllable. You try again. "I... can't, I-"

You can see from his face that nothing you can say will make a difference.

"Alright," you finally say quietly. You take a breath. "Just- just give me a second."

You slide the pack from your shoulders, slowly. No sudden movements. After you set it on the ground, Joel lowers his weapon, holding it sideways. As you reach for the hem of your thin t-shirt, he lifts his chin just a little - the only change on his face.

You squeeze a blink a little longer than you need to, hesitating, and he just lets the silence grow. It's almost worse that way. You wish he would shout at you - tell you you're wasting time; being stupid. That this doesn't matter.

But it does to you. And his quiet patience is making this feel like more than the cold, clinical thing it should be.

You can't look at him as you lift your shirt up, revealing your stomach. You try not to think about him following your every move, searching every inch of your bare skin. As you toss the shirt over onto your backpack, your arms reflexively move to cross over your chest, to cover yourself up, though your bra is still doing most of the covering.

"Turn around."

He doesn't waste any time, doesn't make any comments. Just gets straight to the point. You turn slowly, trembling despite focusing so hard on pretending this isn't affecting you. When you complete your circle, you meet his eyes for the first time.

You don't know what you expected to see there. Derision? Interest? A bitten lip; a lewd grin? You don't see... anything. He's as reserved as ever.

Your fingers work to unbutton your jeans, and just as you begin to peel the fabric down your hips, he interrupts.

"You're shaking."

You look up at him, trying to make your voice hard. "Yeah. I am."

"Well, why are you shakin' like that if you told me the truth?"

You bit your lip on the inside, staring at him. Would that information be smart or stupid to share? Looking at him right now, you don't know. So you stay quiet.

His finger eases toward the trigger, though he doesn't point the gun at you. Yet.

"Well?"

Doesn't matter if it's smart. You're going to have to say something. And your brain hasn't caught up enough to come up with a lie. Not one that he wouldn't see right through, anyway.

"I've never... done this before."

"Done what?" His voice is harsh.

You can't meet his eyes. "Been undressed. With someone. With a man."

He fixes you with a stare. His eyes don't widen; his face just drops. He doesn't look shocked. He looks frozen. Petrified.

"You're sayin'-"

"Yeah," you cut him off a little too quickly. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

He doesn't reply, and when the moment gets too tense for you to say anything more, you take a deep breath and start to push your jeans the rest of the way down your hips.

"That's enough."

You stop, thumbs pressed inside denim, and stare upward. "You- you sure?"

He nods just once. "Yeah."

You can see him swallow as he steps forward, picking up your shirt and handing it back to you. You let go of the fabric in your hands to take your shirt from him.

"Okay," you answer, half-numb as you put the shirt back on. "Thanks."

The front of your jeans is still open, and he looks away while you zip yourself up, then mutters, "S'get headed back. Gonna be dark soon."

You pick up your backpack first, then your gun, and move to follow him toward the path. You walk in silence for some time, watching his broad frame clear the branches ahead of you.

A long time passes before he speaks up again. When he does, you're emerging from the forest, the last golden rays of the sun bathing the camp in the distance.

"Austin."

You slow down and turn to look at him.

"You asked. Before."

He holds your gaze, then keeps hiking toward camp as he speaks to you without looking back. "I'm from Austin."

And just like that, you aren't strangers.

 

--

You don't remember exactly when he became the dog at your heel. It happened in pieces; moments.

He'd brought you a hunting knife. Clean and sharp - not rusted at the handle like the one you'd been using. He switched out the batteries in your flashlight without saying a word. He didn't argue anymore when you asked him to move his stuff, or stand in your way when you were trying to work.

One night, when you mention a hunt in the morning, he says, "Wake me when you go." And you do.

Things are different, now. Neither of you wants to look at it too hard. You don't know why he won't, but you know damn well why you won't - he's been all you can think about since that day in the woods.

If you're being honest, even before that.

He treats you unlike anyone else in camp, and they all know it. You both know it. But neither one of you will speak about it.

Not until the night you're sitting in the woods together, alone, and you can't hold back anymore.

Face illuminated by a single battery-powered lantern, you listen to the crickets, and you think about what it could mean to say it out loud.

He holds up his jacket, pulling you from your thoughts.

"You cold?"

You shake your head, then immediately regret it. It's a warm night, but god, it would have been nice to wrap yourself inside it. Smell him on the collar.

You watch him, analyzing his movements. The tightening of his arms as he rolls up his jacket to put it in his pack. The slow way he looks up and out of your campsite, staring into the woods like he can see something you can't. The way he deliberately keeps his eyes from drifting in your direction. Like he can't feel you watching him.

"Do you ever..." You start, then stop, hesitating. Is this too much? Are you about to fuck this up entirely?

When he fixes you with that impatient stare, his big brown eyes holding you by the neck, it doesn't matter anymore. You force the rest of the words out.

"Do you ever wonder exactly where you'd be right now, if it wasn't for..." You gesture vaguely to the state of the world with a flick of your wrist. "All this?"

He blinks, almost flinches, before he answers. "No."

He's lying. You can always tell when he answers too quickly. You wait for more.

"No sense wonderin' about anything besides the here-and-now."

He turns away, looking forward, and you match him. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

You tense up even more, stomach squirming as you fight your nerves. "I... sometimes do anyway, though. Think about the choices I made before the outbreak. If I would have done things differently, would I have ended up somewhere else."

You fiddle with the end of your shoelace. "I always felt kind of stupid for some of my choices. But, now, I..." You turn to him. "I'm sort of glad I ended up where I did."

He looks back at you. Swallows thickly. "We oughta get some sleep."

Your heart is pounding. If you back out now, you're never going to get the courage again. "Joel."

He just stares, setting his jaw.

"I'm glad I ended up here. With you."

You lean in and kiss him.

He pulls in a breath through his nose, as sharp and sudden as if he'd stepped on a nail. Blood is thrumming in your ears, your arm shaking as you hold yourself up, leaning on one hand to reach him. His mouth opens up for you, letting his lips softly meet yours - once, twice, three perfect times - before he pulls back.

He stares at you with wide, unblinking eyes.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Wh-what?" you murmur back, reeling. His response catches you like a slap. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a stammering mess. "I'm sorry. I thought... I mean, I just thought you..."

"You don't have to tell me what you thought," he interrupts. "Just quit thinkin' it."

He had leaned into it. Hadn't he? You'd felt him kiss you back.

Didn't you?

Something occurs to you that hadn't, before. "Is there somebody-"

"No."

"Then why-"

"I'm old enough to be your..." He cuts himself off. "No. Alright? Flat-out. No."

He stands to get his bed roll, walking away.

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions," you say quietly.

He picks up his bedding in a stiff hand, glaring at it. Then he looks back at you. "That don't make it right."

You try to come up with something to say, but nothing comes out.

"Get some rest. We got a long way back in the mornin'."

--

6 Months Later

It turns out, groups that arrive together at the Boston QZ are processed into housing at the same time, which meant that you weren't surprised the first time you saw him across the hall in your building. You were, however, a little surprised when you always seemed to find yourself getting the same job assignments at the same times, and finding the same extracurricular activities as well.

There are only so many smuggling routes in and out of the area, and Joel seems to make it his business to join you on as many runs as his schedule will allow. Somehow, you thought things might be different here. That you might go your separate ways. If anything, he's around more often now that things are quieter. Always finding something in your apartment that needs fixing. Always trailing along with you to one job or another, above-board or below.

And the day you twist your ankle on a sanitation shift, you're glad for it.

"Ah-" You suck air between your teeth, resting your foot on the ground fully for the first time. "Shit, it hurts."

Joel wipes his hand on a rag, brows furrowed. "Put it down flat."

You give him a pleading look, but he stares back harder, and you straighten out your arch, wincing slightly.

"Ain't that bad. You'll be alright."

You huff out a breath. "Well it's going to be a bitch walking home."

He softens.

You were more-or-less complaining just to complain, but he silences you when he spreads his arms, gesturing for you to come closer.

"Come on. C'mere."

He pulls your arm up and over his mountain of a shoulder. Then he wraps an arm around your waist, the both of you facing forward. The feeling of him holding you steady is enough to knock you right out at the knees, and - Christ - how is it possible he smells so good when he's sweating down the front of his shirt?

"Go on and use me like you need to."

He grunts the words simply, and you look over at him for a reaction, but he just nudges his chin ahead. He's telling you to walk.

Oh. You're supposed to be walking. Not thinking about how many times you've dreamed of him saying those words in a different context.

The trip is short; only a few blocks, but you spend every moment of it focused on the weight of his arm and the feeling of his hand gently holding you up. You stumble once, reaching the stairs to your building, and he catches you like a seatbelt across your waist. There's no give, his arm bracing you like a steel bar. He lets out a soft sound, more from surprise than effort.

"Steady," he tells you, his voice a little too tender to be any type of warning.

You catch his eyes, and he glances away first.

"Oughta... take a minute," he says, slowly extricating himself so as not to let you slip.

You nod, leaning against the handle at the lowest section of concrete stairs. "Yeah. Thanks."

He nods in a way that's sort of shaking his head at the same time; the way he always tells you that you're welcome without admitting he did something. Then he looks down. "How's it feeling?"

You sit down, stretching out your foot and rotating it a bit. "Think I'll be fine. It doesn't... really feel that bad after all."

He reaches for his back pocket, pulling out a flask. "Here. Take the edge off."

You look at him in surprise, deciding whether or not to comment on him walking around all day with this. You settle on a glance of silent thanks instead, and unscrew the top.

Tamping down the childish thrill running through you at the idea of putting your lips where his have been, you take a tentative pull, and wince. "Gin?"

His mouth curls up at the edges, not quite forming a smile. "You'll be first to know when we get a good shipment of bourbon in here."

You wipe your mouth, handing it back to him. "Oh come on. Caroline's gotta have something better than this."

He shrugs at the mention of your mutual acquaintance through smuggling channels. Then you watch his throat bob as he takes a long drink. "Does the job."

It must burn him as badly as it did you, but he doesn't show it.

You take a moment to breathe, stretching out your ankle and feeling where it's tender. After the moment passes, you bring your eyes up to Joel again.

"Thanks. For the help."

He holds your gaze a little longer this time. "Aht's okay."

He breaks it off again, to look ahead. "Think you can make it?"

You haven't stopped looking his way. "Yeah."

He gives you a sidelong glance, but doesn't fully turn his head. "Alright, then."

You start up the stairs, slowly, gripping the rail, and you talk as you walk.

"Can I... ask you something?"

"Uh huh," he allows, taking the stairs alongside you and watching as you go.

"When we made it here, to Boston, I kinda thought you... might not be around anymore. I figured you'd go with Tommy and..." You trail off. "Well, I'm just... happy you're still here. Happy, and surprised."

He turns the corner, looking at you as you reach the second floor. "Tommy... doesn't really need me anymore. Not the way he used to."

"And I do?"

He glances down at your foot, and you're forced to concede his point. "Fair enough."

The But part of your sentence draws out while he reaches his arm out, letting you grip onto him as you turn down the hallway. You rest your hand as lightly as you can on his arm. Truthfully, you hardly need it. But you aren't going to turn it down.

"But..." you continue, holding onto him. "I'm sure there are plenty of other people who could use someone like you around."

He lets the silence grow, and it's not until you reach his door that he gives a response. "What's your point?"

"The point is..." You bite your lip and slow down, forcing him not to walk any further; not to reach your door. "The point is, why spend all this time helping me out if you're not going to get anything in return?"

You hate the way it sounds; like you're accusing him of being selfish. You've rehearsed asking him this countless times, but it always comes out wrong.

"I don't want anything in return."

"I know that," you say quickly, frustrated with yourself. "I know. I just..."

You meet his warm gaze and get lost in it, the way he always looks at you - soulful and bitter, all at once. Like there are a million things he wants to say to you and blame you for.

"What if I really, really want to give you something in return?"

An exhale. A warning.

"I can't help it," you murmur softly, a little self-pitying. Maybe it's a little of the liquor helping to loosen everything you constantly have to hide behind your teeth. Maybe it's just the way he's letting you hold onto him, for once not distancing himself. "I just... really..."

You close your eyes and softly brush your lips against his. He just stands there, rigid and silent as a brick wall. Unyielding. But not moving.

When you bring your hand up to his chest, you force yourself to pull back and look at him. Your head feels lighter than air, and you can hardly stammer out, "I- I'm sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn't have done that."

He swallows, eyes accusatory and darker than you've ever seen them. His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

"Got that right."

An explosive ringing in your ears drowns out all of your thoughts in an instant as he presses you up against the wall and crushes his lips against yours.

He cradles your neck in his hand, steadying your mouth with his thumb so he can press into you again and again, hungry and reckless. You moan quietly against him, and he hasn't even dipped his tongue inside. He's just methodically, ruthlessly tearing you apart with the softness of his mouth.

"Fuck," you whine, breathless. "God- Wanted this so bad..."

"Quit," he grinds out. When he pulls back to nip at your jaw, he wraps his hands tight around your waist. "You don't listen to me. I said no."

You nod, whines turning high and throaty as he drags his teeth along your neck. "Told you to leave it be." His teeth sink in. "Told you I can't give you what you're askin'."

He kisses you again, pulling all the breath from your chest and sending every thought of arguing flying from your mind.

"Joel..."

He draws in a deep breath at the sound of his name spilling out of your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and draw him in closer, tasting him as deeply as he'll let you, and he groans. The sound goes straight between your legs.

"Please," you whisper against his lips. "Touch me, please-"

He looks at you with those sad brown eyes, and whispers back achingly, "Jesus, girl..."

And then he does.

He presses you back against the wall, teasing you through your jeans with two fingers. Your brows squeeze together, soft whines pouring out of you, urging him not to stop. Your legs are already shaking, ankle long forgotten as sharp pleasure mixes with the thrill and terror of him opening you up and pouring you out in the middle of the hallway.

He slides his big, warm hand between the fabric and your skin, and suddenly he's there. Just stroking you like it's where he's meant to be. Slowly drawing his middle finger through what he's done to you.

"F-ffuck-" you gasp, half-relieved and the rest of you already overwhelmed. "Oh my god..."

He pushes his hand deeper into your jeans and you can feel yourself gushing an embarrassing flood around his fingers.

"Christ," he breathes, knocking his head forward against the wall and closing his eyes, resting there for a moment. "You're so fuckin' wet. This all from just..."

You nod your head frantically, and he swallows, suddenly looking even more wracked with guilt.

"Shouldn't be doin' this," he tells you, even as his thick fingers curl up and push inside you.

A moan escapes you before you can stop it, and he covers your mouth, holding you tight beneath his palm. He looks down the hall, as if waiting for someone to step out. He slides his palm from your mouth once you've quieted, and you follow his line of sight, then glance at the door beside you.

"Take me inside," you pant out, helping him make the decision you can already see behind his eyes.

He hesitates only for a second, then pulls his hand from you to get his keys.

As he forces you backward through the open door, it's like his muscles don't even have to work to make you step in time with him. His shoulders are strong and steady, and you're on his bed before you can even think to catch yourself.

"Don't know the first goddamn thing 'bout what you're askin' for." His voice is plaintive, broken. Like he's lost a fight.

His hands find your waistband and he gets your jeans open faster than you'd have thought possible. His big palm cups you, not wasting any time. His middle finger paints circles over wet fabric and he leans right up against your ear. "You want me to take care of you, I'll take care of you."

His arm has you pinned down hard, and you're gripping it as he plays with you.

"But there's nothin' more I can do than that. You hear me?"

You nod, hiccuping instead of talking. Air is coming in choking gasps. He isn't going slow, giving you time to get used to the sensation. He's rubbing you wetter and wetter with a pace that shows his experience.

"F-fuck," you bite out, all of your senses overwhelmed. You want to tell him exactly how badly you've wanted this, and for how long. To beg him not to stop. But you can't get out anything but gasps. And it only worsens when he tugs your panties to the side.

"Shit. Joel-"

He's kissing down the open neckline of your shirt, skipping deliberately over your chest and stomach before he kneels at the edge of the bed. Slowly - achingly slowly - he slides his middle two fingers into your pussy and watches it like it's tearing him apart.

"This what you wanted, babygirl?" he asks, eyes drawing back up to your face. His thick fingers work you open, getting slicker each time he drags them in and out.

Your voice snaps in half, a whine turning ragged as your head falls back. Then he curls his knuckles, sliding deeper, and you feel him lean forward.

He pushes his tongue into you, and you feel the Earth shift.

"J-Joel!"

You can only think his name - nothing else exists. You reach for his temple, threading your fingers through his soft hair, and you lose yourself completely.

He groans and laps up the river of slick pouring out of you, fingers moving in perfect strokes. He's crushing you into the bed, like a punishment for asking more than he's willing to give, as he buries his face deeper into you.

He pulls his mouth off you long enough to pant out, "Taste so fuckin' good," like it's a confession he doesn't want to make. You see yourself glistening on his lips and all you can do is make a high, pathetic noise in your throat. He's fucking stunning - all hard angles and fury and guilt as he presses into you again.

He flicks his tongue over your clit and you can't last. It's too much - the feel of him being so close, touching you like no one else has. The hurt, angry glares that are seeping out of him despite his desperation to drink down every bit of you...

You come suddenly, pulling tight and unwinding the thread he's wrapped around you all at once. Your legs shake, pussy spasming as he holds you down and rides you through it.

And after you've drawn out the wave of your orgasm, he holds you there, still.

And his mouth softly starts to move again.

"Hah! Ahh-shit sshhit, stop! Stopstopstop," you hiss out between your teeth.

"You're not done."

You whimper, high and throaty. Yes, you are. It's going to hurt. You're going to-

"I am, Jesus, please, Joel-"

He spreads you with his fingers, mean and quick, looking between your legs to line up his mouth again. He swallows, then pushes his tongue hard into your swollen clit, rubbing it like he's trying to make you cry. It keeps you held up, floating on this slick plateau, and soon enough he shows you that he's in control here for a reason.

Your thighs squeeze around him without your permission. One of your hands grasps helplessly at his thick curls, and you come a second time. So fucking hard that it's embarrassing.

The tightness between your thighs snaps, bursting into a relief that settles, lighter than air, inside your chest. Panting, you hear your own voice breaking, murmuring praises, curses, half-formed words.

He keeps his mouth right where it is, resisting your hands at his shoulders until your frantic pushing turns weak, distracted and spent. He only lets up when you crumple, a whimpering mess beneath him.

And then he crawls up the bed, still dressed, to collapse beside you.

 

--

The next morning, everything's cold. The apartment, the sheets, your skin.

Joel's gone.

After some time wandering his kitchen, you give up on looking for a note. That isn't his style.

Neither are explanations.

You don't really need one, though. It's clear he hates himself for what's he's done. Maybe hates you, too.

A week passes, and you don't hear from him. You knock at his door without response. You take a different work shift to try and cross paths, but he's always somehow on a different schedule. Eventually, slowly, you begin to run into him again. He gives you sullen, empty nods when you see him in the hall. You give him hopeful glances that go unmet when you find him working across from you.

The whole thing should be awkward, but it isn't. It's smoldering. It hurts, and the worst part is, you're leaning into the pain.

Finally, one day, you have a good enough excuse to knock on his door and stay there until he answers. It takes a long time. But you know he's waiting for you to leave, and you aren't budging.

After some time, he opens the door, bleary-eyed and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. You've never seen him quite like this - less of a force of nature. Now he almost seems like just... a man. You weren't prepared for his salt-and-pepper curls to look so soft and touchable, matted up at the back of his head. He's been sleeping, you realize.

And he's waiting for you to say something.

"Caroline," you blurt. Then you pause, trying to remember the excuse that's put you in front of him. "She uh, found a job for me, uptown. Area Two."

He stares. "Alright."

"It's worth twice what we've been making on those tunnel runs."

He says nothing. You can't interpret this quiet, so you keep going.

"And, well... I was kind of hoping you'd help me out for half the cut."

"Caroline..." he drawls, shifting his weight, "Ain't exactly reliable."

"No," you concede. "But the pay is worth it. And it's easy work. Just have to meet a couple of guys and get around one checkpoint. That's it."

"Who are the guys?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't, uh, get names..."

Joel looks off to the side, clarifying, "Who do they belong to?"

You bite the corner of your lip. "Robert."

His posture changes, and you know the conversation is over. "Forget it."

"It's good money."

"Sure is," he replies easily. "But Robert's people are dangerous. Unpredictable. It ain't worth the risk."

"It's worth it to me."

"Don't," he warns.

"If you won't go, I'll find someone else who will."

"Then you're a damn fool. And so's Caroline for sendin' you."

It stings, but you push back. "I really think you should consider it. This run could... could change things."

"Listen." All the tiredness leaves his expression and he stands up straight. "I am tellin' you. Don't take this job."

You bite your lip. "I already took it. Guess I'll just have to find someone else."

He stiffens, looking like he's going to say something else, but doesn't. You watch him fall back into a familiar, blank expression.

"Well, have at it, then."

He moves to close the door, and you hand him a slip of paper before he can get it shut. "The address. In case you change your mind."

He looks down at the paper, then back up at you.

"Good luck," he says.

And for a moment, he actually seems to mean it.

Then the door closes, and you're on your own.

 

--

"You said you weren't coming."

Only hours later, and you've spent half the evening running for your life.

Joel had been right. In a way. The job was dangerous, but no more so than you'd expected. It might not have been so dangerous, though, had he not emerged from the darkness with guns blazing as soon as you seemed a little out of your depth.

He's taken you to a sort of safe house, at the midway point near your usual tunnel routes. There's an old hotel here that has some relatively cleaned-up rooms, and he's locked the door behind you after doubling back to make sure you weren't followed.

"Are you going to answer me?"

"What?" he snarls, bolting the door and not looking at you as he crosses the room.

You're still reeling, trying to keep your voice steady. "Two men are dead, Joel."

He faces you. "Two men who put their hands on you."

"I had it under control. Then you showed up in the middle of things. Why?"

He avoids your eyes for as long as he can, and finally answers, "Caroline sent me. Didn't want you going alone."

That makes you freeze.

You weigh your options, and then you lower your tone. "Did she?"

"Yes." He leans into the word.

When a deep silence pervades the space between you, there's only one thing left to say.

"That's interesting. Because this isn't Caroline's job. It's Jonathan's."

"Who the hell is Jonathan?"

"Caroline's new partner. It's kind of a messy situation. One you would have known about if you'd let me tell you. If you'd agreed to come in the first place."

His gaze shifts away, and then he takes in a breath as if to say something, but you cut him off.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Doin' what?"

"You say you won't show up, and then you do. You say you don't feel anything for me, but... do we really have to keep going like this?" Your voice goes soft, though you don't mean to let it. "What is it about me that makes you lie?"

He shakes his head. He doesn't answer.

You drop the pack you've been carrying from your shoulders to the floor, and sit on the end of the bed.

"You keep pushing me away and dragging me back all at once. Like..." you raise your head up to look at him. "Like what happened between us."

"We don't need to talk about that."

"I do."

He glances over at the door. At the bedspread. Anywhere but you. "I shoulda never let that happen. I knew better."

Your brows push together. "Knew better? Better than what?"

"Than..." he trails off. "Doesn't matter."

You exhale, tired of dancing around things. "I've been honest with you from the start. I don't understand why you can't be honest with me."

"'Cause I'm not..." His face suddenly holds a pained expression, and he doesn't finish.

You stand up, closing the distance between you slowly. "Not what?"

"Damn it, M'not gonna ruin the one good thing left."

You stop, stunned. "That's... that's what you think?"

"Yes."

"You think I'm..." Heat flushes into your face as you try to put the words together. "What, just this innocent girl who's- who's gonna be ruined as soon as I fall into bed with somebody?"

"No," he answers quickly, then takes a step toward you when you back away. "No. Not somebody. Me."

You blink. "What?"

"You wanna talk about it? Fine. We'll talk. You think I... got something to offer you. Some kinda life. But I don't."

"Joel..."

"I wanted you from day one. 'Course I fuckin' did. That don't mean anything."

The wind knocked out of you, all you can think is to softly reply, "Even if I want you back?"

He doesn't reply. His arms stay stiff at his sides as you come closer.

"Even if it's what I want, more than anything?"

"You don't know what the hell you want," he says softly, almost a whisper. There's no bite in his tone; he's only trying to convince himself.

You study him, pieces finally fitting together where they never had before.

"The thing is," you tell him, starting slowly and finding your way, "you think you have to keep me safe. Protect me from the big, bad, world out there. And you keep fucking it up."

His eyes flash, like you've punched him.

"You fucked up today, just by showing up. You fucked up a few weeks ago when you left me alone in your bed. You're gonna fuck things up right now when you break my heart again."

Joel's jaw is set, stiff. He looks like he hasn't breathed since you started speaking.

"You think I have any kind of future in this world without you? I need you, Joel. And I need you to stop fucking up."

There's a silence that seems to go on forever. You've either wrecked things irreparably between you, or...

"You need me?"

The words come out of him like each one has climbed out of his chest, fighting all the way.

You nod, holding his gaze and reveling in the way he looks back at you. He crowds you up against the bed, until your knees are at the edge, and slowly draws his hands up to cup your jaw.

"I need you. More than you know."

When he kisses you, it's completely new, like you've never kissed him before. All the hesitation is gone. It's just want. Raw and seething. 

"Goddamnit," he murmurs at the corner of your mouth. "Knew from the start you'd make a fool outta me."

He pushes you back, spreading you over the bed, and holds you down with the weight of him. Between gasps as he sucks at the skin of your neck, you grip at the nape of his neck, ruffling his hair and begging him for more - for everything he'll give you.

He sinks his fingers beneath your clothes and finds you soaked. He stops kissing you long enough to husk against your ear, "Alright, then. Gonna give you what you need."

"Mm- Joel, please."

You're prepared to plead with him all night if that's what it takes, but it doesn't take more than a few seconds of him feeling how wet you are - how ready you've been since he started kissing you. He jerks off his belt, the buckle clinking as he fits his knees around the outside of your spread legs.

He's only rucked down your pants enough to feel you. The fabric is bunched around your thighs, and he settles over it to slide his two center fingers inside you. "Gonna make it feel good for you, sweetheart. Gonna take things slow."

You whimper something, and he makes you repeat it.

"I said, I can't take it slow," you pant, as he kisses up your jaw and draws his fingers in and out of you. "Been waiting too long. Need you inside me."

You're ready, again, to beg, but he doesn't make you. Just growls and curses in between telling you how perfect you are; how good he's gonna make you feel.

When he pulls down his jeans, he doesn't break away from your mouth. You don't even see him. You just feel him - hard, heavy and big, pressed up against you when his fingers leave.

"Fuck," you sigh, relieved and nervous all at once. You've waited too long for this moment to let it show on your face, but you're intimidated just from the size of him. You meet his eyes, and he pushes in.

Just the head is already so much. The stretch is nearly unbearable, and you know you're not doing a good job of hiding it, because he stops.

"Hurts?"

You hesitate, then nod. "Feels... I don't know."

He kisses your cheek. "S'okay. We'll slow down."

He pulls out a little, then fills you up again. His thumb finds your clit, steady and slow. There's no search for it. He just reaches down and starts to ease the tension, using your pussy like it's always belonged to him.

"S'right, babygirl," he praises softly. "You can take it. Relax."

He starts to move again, and you start to crave more of the stretch. The feeling of his head catching each time he pulls out and pushes back in is starting to build a steady warmth inside you, making you close your eyes and seek it out until you recognize it as pleasure. You give him a little whine to show you want more.

Even with your eyes closed, you can hear the little half-smile he's holding through a huffed breath. "That's it. Tell me what you need."

"More," you plead, barely able to get the word out.

It's enough. He bends down harder into the mattress and pushes deeper, opening you up a little more with each slow, slick thrust, until he's filling you all the way. On the last couple of strokes, he wrenches out a groan that makes you snap open your eyes.

"Je-sus," he moans. Seeing him overwhelmed at the feeling is almost better than him being completely inside you. His hand slides to your stomach and he presses down gently as he thrusts in and out, watching himself disappear inside, over and over.

Your eyes roll closed again with the new pressure making sure you feel every inch of him. "Fuck. So- so good..."

His pace picks up at hearing you say it. Like he's been waiting for permission, and now the leash is off. He pulls back his fingers, stops playing with you. He needs both hands to hold himself up as he finds a rhythm so smooth and deep that you can feel it rolling in waves from your center to your toes.

"Thought about this so much," you confess, something wicked curling in your stomach at the sight of him fucking into you, chasing his own pleasure. His hand isn't at your clit anymore because this isn't about pleasing you. It's about taking what he needs, even if just for a moment.

"I fucking... touched myself dreaming about this, Joel."

"Fuck, baby," he groans, then drops his head, slowing for a moment as if to let your words sink in. He sits up slightly, pressing his knees down beside you to tear off his shirt. He fusses with the top two buttons of the dark green flannel and then rips it off the rest of the way, shucking off his t-shirt underneath.

And god, it feels like heaven when he sinks back into you. Letting you feel him - really feel him, wrapping your arms around the soft skin of his broad shoulders. There's something so beautiful about him spread over you, bare-chested while you stay almost entirely clothed. You want to stay like this forever.

He grinds into you, spitting out your name like it's been held inside him for too long, and after he's felt you as deeply as he wanted to, he pulls back to sink his hand between your bodies again. "Got no damn idea how bad I... fuck... how bad you were teasin' me."

"Shit." What he's saying, along with what is hand is doing, is too much. You can't take it. "No-no, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"Come on, baby, that's right..."

He coaxes you right over the edge with his gravel-dark voice, and you sob out his name, pressing your face into the warm side of his neck as you come. He wrings every last drop from you, fucking you through it and waiting until you go limp before he changes the pace again.

When his hands tighten around the soft inner skin of your knee, he tells you soft and low - "Gonna come inside you."

It isn't a question, and he buries himself a few more times before he's already filling you up. You wouldn't have asked for anything else, letting the remnants of your orgasm spread a delirious smile across your face as he comes, letting it drip down the sides of your legs as he just keeps thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. When he slows and stops, it's only with the sounds of sheer exhaustion. 

Joel isn't a hurried man. He's impatient, sure, but he doesn't do things by halves. He stays like this, with his cock sunk deep inside you, for so long that you catch your breath and have plenty of time to stroke his hair, his cheek, his brow.

He kisses down your face, and up the other side, telling you how well you took him. Promising you didn't come too soon, and you have the rest of the night to come again. Begging you not to move yet; just let him feel you a little longer before he pulls out.

When he finally does, Joel cleans you up like the gentleman he's always been. You give him a smile after changing into the extra set of clothes you keep in your pack, lying back down into the bed and letting him wrap his arms around you.

"So that's what all the fuss is about?" You tease, kissing him lightly and stroking your hand along his collarbone. "Could take it or leave it."

"Uh huh," Joel answers, grunting from deep in his chest, sleep already half-swallowing him. "Sounded like it."

"It was sweet of you to take me to a nice hotel for our first date, though."

He mumbles something through the pillow that you don't quite catch.

"Hm?"

"Motel. Said it's a motel," he corrects. "Means we don't get room service."

You're so surprised at him making a stupid little joke that you just silently stare at him and smile. Then you settle back down into the crook of his arm.

"Well. I'm gonna need a wake up call," you tell him.

Then, more softly, you add, "So I guess you're gonna have to stay until morning."

You feel his chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, and hear the rumble of his voice against your ear.

"Don't worry. I'll stay."

--

A/N: Finally managed to get this posted, in response to this post from forever ago. I hope it meets expectations, for the four people who remember that poll! 😅

Thanks for reading!

--

Masterlist

[galpinspoet]

i’d run away and hide with you

tyler x fem!reader

Tyler escapes Willow Hill, and you both pull a Bonnie and Clyde.

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: abuse, panic attacks, fighting, a whole lotta trauma, SEASON 2 SPOILERS

before you ask, there will be a part 2 :)

It had been about a year since Wednesday exposed Tyler as the “Monster” he was painted to be. But you knew the exact truth about him that no one else did.

You knew he wasn’t.

You knew Tyler was groomed and abused by Laurel Gates and use him for her own personal gain. He didn’t want to be like this, It wasn’t his fault his father wasn’t there for him, and he doesn’t know his mom was in the same facility as her own son.

Since that day, your life has been in complete ruins. You were outcasted from Jericho, and all of your friends have left you because you were defending a so called “Murderer”. You tried being there for his Father who was tragically murdered, leaving you in even more shambles.

All you could do was rot in your dorm room at Nevermore. and do nothing while you knew they mistreated Tyler in that facility. You knew the hell he was being put through and you knew it could possibly kill him.

That night, you were in your room winding down for bed. After months you finally decided to take care of yourself, brushing your teeth, not eating heavy meals before bed, no caffeine before bed, hell you stopped drinking Caffeine. As you slowly drifted off into the icy cold pillow and mattress. You had no clue what was going on beyond your Windows.

Laurel set Tyler free before running away and being murdered by him. He escaped the police and facility trying to capture him or worse, Kill him.

As he got away and hid, he slowly turned back into his normal self. Sprinting to Nevermore which was only an hour away. He took every ounce of strength in his body to get to you before he either passed out or was caught.

—

As your body became shift and starting to drift away, you felt something, off. Something wasn’t right. Your body just didn’t wanna fall asleep. Something was out there, you just didn’t know what.

You didn’t wanna waken up your roommate, so you carefully stepped outside to feel the icy air hit your skin. Your fingertips gracing the baloney bars as your attention was robbed by the police lights in the distance.

Without a warning, you felt a hand clasp over your mouth and move you away from the balcony, turning around to see your boyfriend with cuts on his face, bleeding out from his chest, and the sweat all over his body.

Your body did the talking, you hugging him tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. Tyler hugged you so tight that night you felt the wind get taken out of you. His hand going for the back of your head, combing through your hair.

“We need to go. Please” He spoke with urgency in his voice. You pulled away to look at him.

“Baby, please, we need to go. They’re gonna find me. We need to get out of here.” Tyler kept going, the tears kept flowing from his face and the blood wouldn’t stop gushing.

Without hesitation, you nodded your head. Looking back inside your dorm to your sleeping roommate one last time before pulling a Bonnie and Clyde with your boyfriend.

—

Before Mr. Galpin passed, he told you if anything were to happen to him. He told you to take Tyler into hiding near his house. Giving you explicit orders, in detail. You both ran back to his house and you made Tyler hide before walking over to Elvis’s dog shed, picking it up and opening a secret hatch that led underground.

You motioned Tyler over and got him down becore closing it. You noticed the bunker was, moderately furnished with a working kitchen and dimmed white lights. Tyler scooted and went over to the cot on the bed. Whining in pain.

After panicking and looking around for a First Aid kit. You began patching him up, his wincing still there, but not as prominent as before. Tyler began to speak in an urgent but hushed tone.

“We have to get out of Jericho, they’re gonna find us. Y/N I don’t wanna go back- Please.” He was on the verge of tears again. You kissed his temple as you working on bandaging the cuts on his cheek.

“I won’t let that happen. I’ll run away with you, I’ll hide with you. We’ll protect each other. Okay? I’m not losing you again.” Your tone was serious, you were willing to put yourself on the line for this boy.

Once you were finished bandaging him up, you sat down next to him, hugging Tyler. You let him cry it out. You don’t know what they did to him. But you knew in your heart and soul you wouldn’t let them take him away from you again.

You laid down and pulled Tyler into your arms, holding him tightly til he cried himself into slumber. You sat there planning for tomorrow, saying goodbye to the life you had at Nevermore, and ready to start anew.

A/N: my baby literally deserves better this isn’t FAIR!!!!!!!!!!! :(((((( get him some therapy or something love of God PLEASE 🤧

next fic will be some more nevermore!tyler fluff 🩷

[vampira-69]

୨୧ " 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 " ୨୧

Yandere!Yeon Sieun x Fem!reader

Summary : Your parents decide to move where their lifelong friends live, the friends who's son you've known as a shy six year old sweet boy, now still introverted yet more sinister, soon after his mom and yours forced you to be friends and walk to school together, you've come to realize how obsessive and sinister he is, and how possessive he can get when you pay attention to someone else.

Warnings : Noncon! Unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Forced impregnation! Forced oral (male receiving!) Throwing up mentioned but not happening! Loss of v-card! Slapping (on face!) Dark themes (obviously..) Fingering! Hair pulling! Sieun mentioning Suho and Beomseok while in the act! Beomseok having a crush on you! Suho being flirty despite not having a crush on you! (Yet Sieun sees him as a threat) Reader's wrists are tied with Sieun's belt! Sieun's mom coming home and catching him! Tell me if you notice more tw's! Apologies for any typos and know that i haven't wroten in a long time so forgive if im sloppy with it!

Tags : @darkkdramaficswriter

It was a surprise to you, really, your parents deciding to move away so suddenly, you didn't want to move but you can't say anything.

Their lifelong friends have told them there's a free apartment right next to their door, and that's how you've become neighbors with them and their son.

Sieun used to be a shy and a meek boy, you never were close with him despite your parents's relationship.

You did forgot about him when you moved out away but now you remember him, he's more quiet now, but there's some darkness in him as well, but you choose to not pay mind to it, thinking you're just paranoid.

Your mom had told you last night, that you and Sieun will go together to school, you agreed, thinking it's better to be with someone you know than alone.

His mother had told him that he needs to take care of you, as she sees you as her daughter, so she told him "Sieun-ah you'll have to look after her, after all she's like your younger sister, protect her"

He glared blankly at her when she said those words, then nodded before disappearing into his room.

And that's how you're here now, walking with him towards the school, hands brushing occasionally. Yet both of you didn't spoke.

Then so suddenly, like a thunderstorm, a boy with a bright smile appeared.

"Yah! Yeon Sieun, you have a girlfriend now?" The loud boy laughed, throwing his arm around Sieun's shoulder.

You looked at both of them with slightly wide eyes, the loud boy smiled sweetly at you and you smiled back shyly.

"Our parents are friends and we are neighbors" Sieun replied blankly, his jaw clenching at how you smiled at Suho.

"Ah im Suho!" Suho said loudly and happily,

"And you are?" He asked, but before you could tell him your name Sieun suddenly grabbed your wrist.

"You'll be late cmon ill walk you there" he said, wanting to walk you towards the all girl school that's close to his school.

Suho had frowned at Sieun's interrupting you.

"I'll be good on my own thanks" you pulled your hand away from his tightening grasp. He clenched his jaw at your, what he thinks rude attitude.

"Im y/n by the way" you looked at Suho and smiled yet again at him, Sieun's breath hitched, jaw clenching even more in frustration, you were supposed to only smile at him, he did not know when he started feeling so possessive over you, but he can't stop now or ever.

"Y/n! You're so beautiful" Suho grinned widely, just as Sieun was about to say something, another boy appeared, standing closs to Suho, that boy looked shy but then as he looked at you, his eyes widened behind his glasses, his cheeks and ears becoming pinkish color.

"Ah Beomseok! That's y/n, Sieun's neighbor" Suho put his arm around Beomseok now.

You smiled shyly and waved at the shy boy, who swallowed before muttering a soft hello.

Sieun's eye twitched, it all become too much for him to bear, Why were you paying so much attention to these two and not to me? He thought in his head, his fists clenching tight.

"Go to school y/n, and be careful" he said, colder than intended, you looked at him then nodded, as you started walking towards your school. Suho yelled,

"Yah! Come hang out with us after school!" He said happily, you turned around and gave a thumbs up. He laughed at that, all three of them watching you dissappear from their vision.

Suho turned to look at Sieun and noticed his weird behavior, "whats wrong with you?" He asked his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Nothing." Sieun replied blankly, looking at Suho then at Beomseok, he knew that the shy boy immediately liked you and Sieun didn't like it.

It all became so regular, all four of you started hanging out, Sieun didn't like it that you pay so much attention to Suho and Beomseok, yet he didn't say anything, after all he didn't hate his friends, he hated that they are taking you away from him.

Tonight was like the other nights, all four of you at a restaurant, eating laughing and sharing random stories, it was mostly Suho telling some funny stories from his part time job.

As you laughed at Suho's story, he winked at you playfully, he always does it, flirting with you jokingly.

Yet Sieun sees Suho as a big threat, thinking you're "cheating" on him with Suho,

Sieun's jaw clenched at the sight of Suho, flirting shamelessly in front of him.

"Ill be back" you said, needing to use the restroom, Suho nodded and continued on eating.

Sieun's eyes lingered on you as you walked away, then as Sieun finally turned his gaze away from you, Beomseok stood up and without a word he walked after you. Sieun's jaw clenched yet he sat still.

As you were washing your hands and got out of the ladies restroom, you saw Beomseok waiting for you, he smiled shyly and stuttered.

"Y/n..i wanna tell you something, im sorry for doing it so suddenly but i can't wait anymore, i like you- i like you so much. Ever since i saw you weeks ago i-" he then was rudely interrupted by an angry Sieun.

"What do you think you're doing" he looked at Beomseok, his eyes dark and sinister. Your eyes widening, and Beomseok furrowed his eyebrows.

"Cmon lets go." He demanded before Beomseok could answer, Sieun dragged you with him, Beomseok after both of you.

After you reached the table, Suho looked at all three of you, immediately sensing the tension, he saw Sieun's eyes, usual soft and melancholic eyes now dark and obsessive.

"What are you doing Sieun-ah? Stop dragging her" Suho said, his voice serious as he stood up.

"Y/n doesn't feel good, we're going home." He took your bag and handed it to you, and then took some bills from his wallet to pay for his and your food.

Then he dragged you outside, the other two shocked.

After he found a free taxi he demanded you to get in and you did, the drive seemed long and awkward, you noticed Sieun's clenched jaw and fists, his eye twitching from now and then.

"Sieun.." you muttered but he didn't look your way, after awhile you finally arived, he payed the driver and dragged you out before walking towards the building.

"Sieun..ill go home now." You whispered, now scared from his weird behavior.

"No- come with me, im alone in the apartment." He demanded, before you could do anything he dragged you towards the door, after unlocking it he basically pushed you in,

"S-sieun..you're scaring me" You backed away from him but he grabbed your wrist tight and dragged you towards his room then locked the door.

"Do you want him?" He asked dryly, your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"Or you want Suho hm? You like how both of them are paying you attention"

"Sieun-" he interrupted you by grabbing your hair tight.

"You like their attention on you! You're such a whore for wanting both of them" he hissed, tilting your head back, you whimpered from pain.

"Sieun stop it!" You grabbed his hand with your trembling one, he just scoffed at that.

"Did you suck their dicks huh? You fucking slut! You should've ignored them! But no you're just an attention whore am i right?" You shook your head, his grip tightening.

"You're not theirs! You're mine ever since we were kids! You dont belong to Beomseok or Suho- ill fucking show you who you belong to" and before you could protest more, his hands came to your shirt and ripped it open, you yelped at the action, trying to back away from him. But he grabbed your hair again.

"You're scaring me! What are you doing" you sobbed out, tears falling out of your wide with fear eyes freely.

"Now you're scared?" He scoffed, making fun of you, he grunted and ripped your bra off and threw it on the floor, you yelped, hands going on your chest to hide.

"I'll cut off your hands if you hide" he hissed, you looked down as he looked at your chest and licked his lips hungrily.

"You're so beautiful fuck" his hands immediately went to his belt, to unbuckle it, you whimpered at the sound, he unzipped his pants and pushed them down with his underwear.

"get on your knees-" he demanded, throwing the belt on his bed.

"Sieun please..i can't! You know I've never-" he groaned then.

"Then time to learn, get on your knees before i rip out your fucking hair slut!" You sobbed out but got on your knees, you knew you couldn't do anything, you were always so weak.

"Look up at me baby" Sieun said softly, like you want this as much as he does.

You looked up at him through your teary eyelashes, his hand came down on your cheek to caress you softly, thumb wiping a tear. His other hand wrapped around his thick flushed cock, stroking it slowly.

"Tongue out" he whispered, you sobbed out yet again but did as he said, he moaned at the sight and then he pulled away the hand on your cheek just to slap your face sharply.

You cried out at that, your body shaking in fear, he grabbed your hair and tilted your head to look up at him, your tongue still out.

He grabbed his cock and slapped your cheek with it, then slapped your tongue, you nearly gagged from that alone, he groaned, rubbing his tip on your tongue.

"Ill fuck your face now, open wide" he demanded and you obeyed in fear, he started pushing his thick shaft in your warm mouth firstly slowly then he pulled out just to push in roughly, making you gag wetly.

Sieun moaned, his eyes shut tight, head back and hips thrusting into your face roughly, your eyes widened as tears fell freely from them.

Your jaw aching from his length, you choked around him loudly. Your hands scratching his thighs.

Praying he'll stop or even slow down at least, but it just made him moan and thrust harder.

"Look at you f-fuck, you're such a slut- drooling around me and choking on me" he groaned out, his hands holding your head as he fucked your mouth violently.

You closed your eyes tightly, snot mixing with your drool and tears, Making your face messy.

"Look up at me- fucking cunt swallow my cum!" He moaned loudly, pulling your hair.

You looked up at him, blinking the tears away as you felt his cock throb inside your mouth.

You gagged loudly at that, making him groan as he looked down at you, his eyes full with lust.

"Swallow it all! C-choke on my cum" he moaned louder than before, cumming in your throat, you gagged at the salty-bitter taste but swallowed everything.

Nearly throwing up, after awhile he pulled out fast.

Making you groan, you sobbed out loudly, looking down in shame and pain.

"Get up-" he demanded, taking off his pants fully then his t-shirt, you shook your head.

"Sieun please- you got what you wanted!" You cried out, then gasped as his hand came down to slap your face.

"Get up y/n" he demanded calmly, you did as he said, standing up on shaky legs.

You looked at him with pleading eyes, his eyes went down towards your skirt and he bit his lip.

"Leave the skirt one, take you panties off!" You didn't want to do it, but you saw his threatening eyes, you slid off your cotton panties off.

He looked at you and licked his dry lips, then demanded.

"Get on the bed and bend over-" you shook your head,

"S-sieun you know i never did this! Please im scared-" he groaned out in frustration, and started pushing you towards his bed, forcing you himself on all fours.

"Stay like that" he took his belt and wrapped it around your wrists, you whimpered at his actions.

Your face smashed against his pillow, your tears, snot and drool staining it.

"You're so pretty baby" he praised you, as his hands pushed your skirt up and his hands roamed over your naked ass.

He moaned out at the sight of your pussy from behind, he licked two of his fingers before pushing them inside your tight pussy.

You yelped at this, crying out loudly at the stretch,

"You're dry but not for long- you better relax if you don't want it to hurt more" he demanded, thrusting his fingers in and out sharply.

Despite not wanting it, your body started reacting to his actions.

You cursed yourself at your own betrayal, Sieun chuckled as he felt your wetness ooze out of you.

"So wet for someone not wanting it- fucking tight slut" he spanked your ass with his free hand, making you cry out.

"I bet you want them to be here hm? Want Suho and Beomseok watch how i shape your cunt into mine!" He rubbed your ass, almost tenderly.

Your hands wiggling, wanting to be free from the belt, he spanked you harder at that.

Then pulled his fingers out and licked them clean, moaning at your taste, he coated them in his saliva before forcing them inside your already abused mouth.

You gagged at this, he pulled his fingers out and smeared the saliva on your cheek.

He grabbed the base of his thick cock and rubbed the head against your pussy.

"You're gonna feel so good baby- gonna put my baby in you too" you cried out as he started pushing in agonizingly slow.

Your eyes widened in pain as you nearly screamed out.

"S-sieun please! It hurts so much" you sobbed out and he cooed at you mockingly.

"Then relax and get wetter!" He groaned out, placing both hands on your soft ass as he started thrusting hard, making your body go up and down with each thrust.

You moaned out in pain and a traitorous pleasure, Sieun spanked your ass with both hands on each cheek, you cried out at that.

"Gonna look so pretty full- with my baby" he moaned, one of his hands going between where you both joined and started rubbing your clit, you whined in pleasure

Pleasure you didn't even want, he laughed mockingly at that, thrusting faster, the sounds were sinful.

Wet slapping noises getting louder, you whimpered at the sound of your squelching pussy.

"Fucking gushing around me- you're such a whore for me fuck" Sieun moaned at the feeling of your wet and tight walls.

"S-sieun stop!" You cried out as you felt a familiar knot forming in your tummy.

"Squeezing me so tight baby, fucking cum around me- milk my cum out of me" despite trying to hold it, you came.

Pussy creaming around him, Sieun groaned at that, as he started fucking you harder.

The sounds now louder as you came, soon after you felt his cock throb in you, you tried to pull away.

"Where the fuck are you running! Take my cum- im gonna breed you with my baby" he grabbed your ass with both hands again, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

He groaned and moaned as he started cumming deep in you, you cried out at the unfamiliar feeling of warm cum in you.

"It better take or I'll breed you every day and night" he chuckled, still in you as his cock pulsed inside.

After awhile he pulled out slowly, his cum oozing out immediately. He groaned in frustration as he pushed two fingers in.

"Keep it in!" He demanded, and pulled them out, making you suck his fingers clean.

He untied your wrists, and you immediately fell forwards, body shaking.

He cooed at the sight, standing up he put his underwear and pants on again. Then he unlocked the door and went in the bathroom so he can wet an towel to wipe you, after all he wasn't cruel in his words.

Just as he headed back from the bathroom he heard the door unlocking, and he immediately stopped and then saw him mom coming in.

She closed the door and then noticed him, her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of him, holding a wet towel and not having a shirt on.

"Sieun-ah? What's happening? The neighbors from below heard screaming-" Sieun nearly rolled his eyes at her words.

"It's nothing" he murmured and started walking back towards his room, but his mom walked behind and didn't let him go in first.

She opened the door and immediately noticed your shaking and naked body, then your ripped out shirt and bra as well.

Sieun groaned in frustration and pushed her away, walking in and going towards you, but she grabbed his arm.

"D-did you..did you force her?" She stuttered, her eyes tearing up.

"She wanted it-" he scoffed but his mom shook her head.

"How could you!? She's like a daughter to me! I told you to protect her and not hurt her!" She yelled, her voice making you flinch.

"Well soon you may have an grandchild" he murmured.

"D-dont touch her!" She immediately walked towards you and grabbed a blanket from his bed and pulled it over you.

You looked back at her and cried,

"P-please i didn't want it! I wanna go home i don't wanna see him!" Your voice trembled as you cried, his mom carefully brushed your tears.

"Im sorry..i didn't know he could do such a thing.." she cried in shame and terror.

Sieun rolled his eyes at that, walking towards you with the towel.

"Get out i have to clean her" he demanded his mom but she shook her head.

"You get out! I'll call her mom to come and-" Sieun glared at her.

"And what? Don't put yourself between us! She loves me now get out or ill hurt her in front of you" he said sharply.

His mom cried out and looked at you, you shook your head.

"Please dont leave me."

Well that shit turned out real bad! But its my first yandere story and first writing after months! Please tell me if you notice typos or misspellings! As English isn't my first language im sorry for any mistakes!

I had high expectations for my idea but it ended up so bad so apologies yall even had to read ts 😭

Feel free to like, comment & reblog if you will <3

Thank you so much ♥︎

[sheep-from-rad]

Jason's roommate!Reader situation would make me angry if I'm in their place because imagine just wanting to move on and live your life and these people came back into your life acting like they never neglected you!😤

If it's me and I find that Tim keeps 'passing out' and I get called I will literally tell them about how that affects my studying negatively and to call someone from the manor to take him back instead of making me do that. I may also try to convince them to consider making him study online at home since his 'health' seems to keep getting worse.

Dick bringing me groceries? It can end in one or two depending on how tired and done with them I am.

1. "I don't need your pity."

2. Take it and give it to random people then walk away.

Bruce and Damian are still breaking into my room for cuddles? Bro I'll probably become so paranoid (and insomniac) because of them to the point that the lightest touch will wake me up because every time I close my eyes I'll remember that they are coming. My room will not feel like my room anymore!and I'll not feel safe for my stuff and privacy. I'll surch my room obsessively and if I find one camera I'll call them creeps! Freaks! I may end up telling Jason that what messed him up was not the pit, it was them.

Also, I'll be looking more into moving because what the hell!

Part 1: Yandere! Batfam x Neglected! Reader: Jason's sidecar Part 2: Yandere Batfam trying to reintregrate themselves back to reader's life Masterlist (DC) Masterlist (All writing)

Note: I haven’t written anything for a while. I’m currently sick which is expected because I ate like 2 gallons of ice cream in two days. I’m starting a job this month so my already dead writing schedule will be more dead-er. Requests are still open though ♡ Warning: Yandere content, I tried my best to draw A yandere Tim Drake being told to just take online classes as a solution to his pass out moments? He will take it as you inviting him into your home because after all it is your suggestion. Within a week he’s already occupying the apartment unit next to yours and talking to Dick about making renovations to the wall in order to connect two apartments. I’m talking this kind of door (I tried my best and yeah I write my fics first before typing them):

Every morning he’ll be in the shared living room half asleep while he nurses himself his third cup of coffee while Jason is in the other living room (now turned kitchen) cooking breakfast. He’s the only one allowed in the kitchen because the last time someone else did they almost burnt the whole apartment. Also because in Gotham Knights game Alfred allowed him to cook which means Alfred trusts him in cooking and Jason said that he was taught how to cook by his grandma (I think this is Ma Gunn but I don’t remember if that’s right). Anyway going back to the yandere stuff, Tim will try his best to not breathe down your neck. He knows it’s not going to work but he still wants to be near you so he bought that unit next to yours instead. That and he also believes that giving you space will help soften your view of him. When asked why he decided to be in the same apartment unit he argued that it is the closest to the university and the closest to the city in case he needed to make an emergency patrol or be a back up. Giving you space doesn’t stop him from helping around though. The alleyways around the apartment building are now well-lit, the new WIFI just got installed and it’s free to be used by everyone in the complex too. You don’t know how they did it but Dick and Tim managed to get free taxi drivers into a contract and those drivers work as back and forth taxi service for everyone in the building. At least it’s safer now right? There will be times when Dick gets sad about your refusal. It’s like days ago you were just a little kid who would chase after him and beg him to tell stories about his patrols and adventures. Those simple times had long dissipated like smoke and now that innocent child has been replaced by a bitter adult whose anger is justified. He’s responsible and he can’t deny that. During the months of Bruce being dead, he had to step up and become everyone’s guardian but he failed to account that you too needed guidance and needed to feel safe. He shouldn’t have placed the others in the higher pedestal just because they live a double life and you don’t. Harsh words don’t stop him from coming by, in fact he’s happy that even though you refuse him, the groceries don't get wasted because you give it to the residents that needed it more. He will still try and now instead of coming with one grocery, he will come with two. The one that he gives to your upfront (a.k.a. The ones that you give away) and the other ones that he secretly adds to your pantry. He buys the same products that you buy and then adds one or two or little amounts (if it’s powdered stuff like milk or granules like sugar or salt) in your storage. It works because you always forget to do inventory checks and you’re always too tired whenever you come home from studies or your job. He made it his task to replace the foods that are expiring and replace it with the same amount. He’ll do it discreetly so it won’t make it look like your food storages are infinite or self-regenerates.

It took Jason and Tim’s meddling to stop Bruce and Damian from breaking into yourroom. The two can’t always stay in the area but when they do, they now occupy the rooms in Tim’s apartment (they still check you at night though). Damian finds Tim’s method as a form of torture. He wants to be close to you and not just like some viewer in the museum that can’t interact with art. He wants to hug you, talk to you, say sorry and make it up to you…To make things worst he finally understood why he acted so badly against you. He was a child raised in a place where those who don't contribute with the larger goal should be persuaded (roughly) or eliminated completely. Bruce wanted you to become the semblance of normal that the family really needs and Damian didn’t understand it. He thought that Bruce setting you apart means that you’re weak and he took it as leverage because when he arrived in the manor everyone already had an established life and it made him feel like he was falling behind. Talia’s expectations and yearly birthday assassination attempts made it worse. Does learning the reasons why made him understand himself better? Yes. Do those reasons help him break the walls and rebuild bridges? Him and Bruce should listen to Tim first about the fact that lovebombing doesn't cure the years of neglect and magically make you latch back to them.

I like to think that Jason knows that the pit only amplified and twisted the differences between his philosophies and Bruce’s philosophies, and that’s part of the reason why Talia was able to keep him for longer too. He’ll take your words and balance it with his reasons and experience. He’s past the year of acting based on his emotions but he’ll keep those for later when push comes to shove. He’s not going to ask you to come back home, that’s your decision to make. He’ll not manipulate you to come too because he’ll be no better than Talia if he did. Right now, like Tim, he’s content on just being a roommate.

[finallyhauntings]

I am by no means a popular blog, this is not the type of post I am expecting/wanting notes on and I am not trying to spread/perpetuate discourse, but I have over a hundred followers (probably not all active lol) and many of those are trans, as well as a majority of my online friends specifically being trans women, so I wanted to make a post detailing my take on the isuggestforcefem/isuggestforcemasc "situation". everything I say in this post, I actively want to be challenged if it comes off as transmisogynistic, because as someone who believes in solidarity above all else my worst nightmare is to be unknowingly a transmisogynist, this post is to let anyone who follows me and cares about this situation make an informed decision if they wish to stay following me, and for me to seek genuine education on parts of this I may be uninformed about or unknowingly bigoted

firstly, I did follow isffem for a while, because I think forcefem jokes are frankly hilarious despite not being the target audience, but I unfollowed her because the way she posted about getting rid of "all" men and turning them all into women made me incredibly dysphoric as a trans man, and while I use the internet on a strict "if it doesn't bring me joy, the block button is free" policy and think everyone should do the same and it was quite frankly Weird that other trans men were sending her asks about it feeling weird that she posted about all men needing to become women, I did also think it a little distasteful how she dismissed that concern. while I was uncomfortable with the way isffem posted about turning all men into women, I do have at least a quarter of a braincell and understand that her fauxcest posts were all based in fiction, because that's what taboo kink is and if you have access to my nsfw blog you'll know that I am incredibly familiar with that

second, while I didn't see exactly what isfmasc posted before privating his blog, I don't think that he did it to "draw the spotlight" or anything, because I did see a lot of the hate he was getting publicly because of what happened, and can't imagine what he was getting that wasn't shared. not only is it ridiculous to pin this on him, as his blog was inspired by isffem, not an attempt to make fun of her or whatever else I've seen people paint it as, and he never suggested that people send her hate or report her, he made one post joking that he had "beef" with her before he had more than 50 followers when she made a joke about forcemasc, and then when she started getting Weird about trans men he blocked her and said little more on the matter. isfmasc was never about masc/male superiority, but about uplifting people for transition and positivity about it, especially seeing as trans men often get seen as becoming the "enemy" when transitioning to male, and a lot of us (myself very much included) are filled with a lot of shame for that.

on a related note, I will say that I believe in transandrophobia; I have never seen a take against it that isn't either outright dismissive of trans men's problems or a bad faith take on what the word means; no (normal) trans man has ever claimed that men in general are inherently oppressed, and I have seen several trans men accurately describing it as "transandro-phobia, not trans-androphobia" (meaning oppression specifically for being a trans man that other trans people don't face, not oppression for being a man that happens to be trans). I am more than willing to hear out an explanation on why this is incorrect, however, because half the reason I am making this post is that if a dialogue doesn't happen then both sides of the coin (transandrophobia "truthers" and "deniers", for lack of a better term) stay uninformed about the others' reasoning.

I don't want to leave Tumblr, or the trans community on this site, and I especially don't want to put myself in an echo chamber where I'm only hearing from the transmasc community on this debate, but in Current Political Climate, we can't afford to be infighting like this, and while I know that I am not influential enough in the trans community on this site to make much of a difference, I just want to do what I can personally to understand everything I can about the situation, because a lot of it happened either in the transfem community, which I am obviously not a part of, or while I was away from my phone and those involved have disappeared (be it through termination or privating)

Tumblr staff are already known for nuking trans women's blogs without warning or reason, which is a huge problem that the trans community can and should fight together, because when you come for one of us you come for all of us, it does nothing to sit on Tumblr and say "I can't believe the TMEs would do this"

reblogs are on exclusively so that people have the choice of replies or reblogs if there's anything I've misspoken on here, I kindly ask that if you're going to clown on me for wanting a dialogue of "this is what I'm saying, this is what I'm hearing from you, what are you hearing from me and what are you saying so we can both be on the same page" rather than just looking things up, Please Don't, this is a 100% genuine post of my interpretation of the situation and I want to be able to see it from an alternative perspective because currently from where I'm sat the situation is "a popular funnywoman who is a little bit weird about trans men got deleted on the website where trans women get deleted out of nowhere, and now people are attacking and blaming trans men for it when most of us were blocking and moving on, and the guy who's claiming credit for reporting her actually also hated the main trans guy that people think did it", which feels Bad as a trans man who loves my trans women sisters and I really don't want to believe that's the full story of it

[aeyumicore]

yumi!! i'm having trouble using farspace colonel in combat. are there any tips you can give to help me use him to his fullest potential??🥺🤲

omg i have so many tips help….fawk lemme see. first it depends what rank you have FA at as some mechanics unlock as you get higher rank. i will speak from a full rank perspective but ill mention where rank matters.



LONG post below <3 feel free to dm me if you need more clarity or just comment or send another ask. i could yap yap yap about FA caleb

just to go over some terms in the photo above:

xerom stacks (icon on the left)

firepower (yellow bar)

focus stack (icon on right)

air strike buff (middle icon)

1. building firepower - firepower is the yellow bar that once you fill it you’re allowed to use your 2 pt. resonance skill. typically your goal is always to build as much firepower as quickly as possible as most of your damage comes from when you’re in battlefront (the combat zone created by your res. skill)

tips for doing this asap: my personal is auto attack 3 times —> dodge —> auto 3 times —> dodge. the reason i dodge so much is dodging is what gives you xerom stacks. every time you dodge you replenish to 10 xerom stacks. you need xerom stacks to charge firepower. if you were auto attacking with zero xerom stacks, i believe you’d get nothing.

in addition, perfect dodges are very useful to FA because his support skill helps build firepower. the more you’re able to use it, the more fire power you build.

the reason i only do the 3 auto combo is i feel the last one, which is when mc lands on the ground and she kinda twists, takes too long. so i just dodge and go again.

AS LONG AS YOU HAVE XEROM STACKS YOU CAN AUTO ATTACK and build firepower. you can literally do this when there is no mob (you’re waiting for one to spawn) - this is something i only recently realized

you can see an example of that here at 0:45, you’ll see i’m just auto attacking the air but i’m still building firepower.

remember to dodge as soon as you come out of battlefront, because you come out of battlefront with ZERO xerom stacks, meaning you won’t be building firepower.

you do NOT build firepower while in battlefront

2. battlefront - battlefront is FA’s most important mechanic. it’s what happens after you use your resonance skill and the map turns red. most of your damage comes from this time.

i typically always get max focus stacks before i use ground breach (the sniper skill that ends battlefront). the more focus stacks you build, the more ground breach will do. at certain ranks, you can build up to 5. otherwise you can only build 3. how to build focus stacks?

at FA rank 1, using air strike will build 1 focus stack. every full auto combo (no dodging. you need a FULL auto attack combo) will give you 2 focus stacks.

so typically i will enter battlefront —> active skill —> aa combo —> aa combo. and that will give me 5 stacks.

focus stacks only affect ground breach, however i always save my ult for this time as well because typically enemy shields will be broken.

3. active skill/air strike - active skill is very important.

one thing people don’t realize is how easy this skill is to cancel. if you click it and dodge immediately, it will cancel. i always click it and for like half a second after i just don’t do anything. i make sure i actually see the little circle rain of bullets before doing anything else.

this skill is important, it helps build firepower when you have xerom stacks.

in battlefront, at r1, it will give you a focus stack.

in battlefront, if you have more than one energy stack when you use air strike, it will consume 2 energy stacks and give you a brief buff which i outlined above as the air strike buff.

this buff WILL AFFECT all your damage, including your ult.

air strike also has a LOWERED cooldown when in battlefront (i think this is true i have to fact check this one) so for me, when i know im about to use deep strike (and enter battlefront) i try to always have an air strike ready

that means i refrain from using air strike when im close to filling my yellow bar

why? with the reduced cd you should be able to air strike TWICE in battlefront. this damage (esp if the shields are broken) does a lot AND it will often give you the air strike buff.

this buff runs out so quickly that typically by the time i’ve built 5 focus stacks and am ready to use ground breach + ult, the buff has run out.

so i try and use air strike again and then use my full combo.

4. timing - timing is very important for FA. ideally imo you’d be able to use your full res. skill/battlefront three times minimum in battle.

you’d think you want to stay in battlefront as long as possible as this is where most of your damage comes from, but this is not always the case.

i sometimes will come out of battlefront ASAP (maybe end it at 3 focus stacks and not 5) when i know i need to build firepower asap for my next res. skill. this is typically if it’s not a stella match. an example of that here at 0:26

obviously sometimes you don’t want to use resonance skill as soon as you can. sometimes you need to save it for after an animation, or for when you know you need to burst damage.

5. combo - here is my typical combo

dodge to start the battle (build xerom stacks)

air strike/active skill (make sure not to cancel it by dodging or auto attacking)

auto attack x3 —> dodge —> aax3 —> dodge to build fire power (while i’m doing this i will use support skill/empowered support skill any time i can. i will also use air strike any time i can, making sure to save it when im close to filling the yellow bar)

yellow bar filled, deep strike (res skill)

active skill/airstrike immediately. auto attack full combo x2 (i usually just stand still and auto attack until i have 5 stacks)

at 5 stacks, air strike again

ult

ground breach (end battlefront)

dodge (build xerom stacks) and start everything all over.

6. stats - prioritize DEF and D2W. Atk and crit come secondary, however i do consider them important too. the damage you do outside of shield break CAN add up. i think by “late game” you def want to have

at least 3.5k DEF (4k min ideal)

at least 100% D2W (130+ ideal)

your beta core stat will depend on what rank you are

7. some videos of all this in practice

https://x.com/aeyumicore/status/1955006551586115839?s=46&t=-LZDzgt0O71DvR_gs9DFQQ

^ this was a challenging battle i think i had to do this several times. timing was very important here

^ hitting 580k on endless challenge with FA. general fire building mechanics

^ another kinda difficult fight

i hope this was clear i typed this all on my phone in an airplane HAHAHAH

pls feel free to reach out if you need more help

[torakowalski]

For the fake! Title: "But here with you, I can finally breathe" (btw is from the song "Free" from KPOP Demons Hunters) 💜

Eoin is still sulking in the kitchen, when the front door opens. He waits for Ambrose to shout hello and kick off his boots, but instead there's silence.

Eoin isn't talking to him, so he doesn't call out to him. He does lean back in his chair to look down the hall though. Ambrose is pressed back against the front door, blood on his shirt and a blank look on his face.

"Ambrose?" Eoin asks, forgetting that he's cross. He rolls out of his chair and trots toward him. "Did you get a knock to the head?"

Ambrose shakes his head. "It's Blair," he says. "He took a bad flyer. They had to call an ambulance."

Eoin's brain flips once inside his skull, but he steadies himself. "He's hurt?" he asks. "Is it bad?"

Ambrose just rubs a hand over his face. His hand is shaking. His face is the colour of old milk.

Eoin feels sick. "Ambrose? Is, is he dead?"

"What?" Ambrose's head snaps up. "Of course he's not fucking dead, don't be ridiculous."

"Well, with the way you're carrying on, can you blame the lad?" Pa asks. Eoin hadn't notice anyone else joining them, but when he looks around, Ma and Pa are standing behind him.

"Shit, sorry," says Ambrose, who knows how much Eoin likes Paddy and has never teased him for his pash. "Sorry, bairn. They took him to the Royal."

It's a mile and a half from their house to the Royal Victoria Hospital. Eoin ignores his Pa calling out to him to wait and runs the whole way.

He arrives at the same time as Mrs and Mr Mayne and just tags along with them, trying to look as Protestant as he can, hoping he'll just be taken as one of the Mayne children.

Paddy's in surgery. The doctor talks about compound fractures and femurs and pelvises and blood loss. Eoin fails immediately at his Protestant pretense and pulls out his rosary, praying it over and over again as they wait for hours for the surgery to finish.

Mrs Mayne just smiles when she catches him at it, says, "Say one for me, would you?"

Eoin does and then he says some more. He knows he shouldn't be here, he's hardly anyone to Paddy, just Ambrose's seventeen-year-old brother, who wasn't even allowed to come to today's match because he had school prep to do. But Paddy is kind to him the way he isn't to anyone else, and Eoin adores him. He can't go home without knowing how he is.

Five hours and many cups of tea later, a nurse comes in and says they can see Paddy, if they want to.

"Is he fixed?" Eoin finds himself asking.

She shakes her head. "I'm afraid it'll be a long road," she says.

Paddy is pale and barely awake when they file into his room. He's bandaged from ankle to hip on the right hand side and his leg is splinted, raised in a sling with weights hanging from it.

"Oh, Blair, love," Mrs Mayne says, coming to sit next to him. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

Paddy blinks at her. "They said I won't play again," he rasps. Then to Eoin's horror, a couple of tears roll down Paddy's cheeks. Eoin looks away; he shouldn't be here.

He hangs back while Mr and Mrs Mayne say bracing, reassuring things to Paddy, and Paddy's jaw gets tighter and tighter.

"Can you go now?" Paddy asks, interrupting his dad. "Visiting hours'll be over."

"Blair," Mr Mayne says.

"I'm tired," says Paddy.

Eoin realises that he hasn't said anything and that that might be stranger than being here in the first place. "Paddy," he starts to say.

Paddy stares at him. He hadn't realised that Eoin was here, apparently. Then he rolls onto his side, back to all of them. "You can leave too. No need to come back," he says. Because he's stupid.

Eoin comes back.

It's his summer vac, he has little else to do, so he comes every day. Paddy doesn't want him there and barely talks to him, but Eoin doesn't take that personally, since Paddy doesn't seem to want anyone there.

He growls at nurses, when they come to change his sheets or his bandages, he swears at doctors who want to check his progress. After a few weeks, when attention turns to getting out of bed and exercing his leg, he looks Eoin square in the eye and says, "Get out."

"Paddy," says Eoin, who has been reading to him.

"Get the fuck out." Paddy snatches the book out of his hand and throws it at him. It hits Eoin on the arm and lands on the bed with a bounce.

"Ouch," says Eoin flatly, and gives Paddy his most unimpressed look. He gathers up his things slowly then nods to the nurse. "Good luck with him, today." He leaves without saying goodbye to Paddy.

He skips the next day. When he comes back the day after, he thinks that Paddy might look relieved. He's sitting in the chair by the side of his bed, pale and sweating, and there's an odd-looking metal and wooden contraption lying on the floor beside him.

"There's chocolates," Paddy says. "I asked Barbara to bring them for you."

"For me?" Eoin frowns. "People are meant to bring you gifts; you're the one in hospital."

Paddy shrugs.

Oh. It's an apology.

"Thank you," Eoin says, and smiles at him. "How's the exercising going?"

Paddy doesn't answer him for so long that Eoin thinks he won't. Then, "I can't do it," he says, voice gruff.

"What?" Eoin leans in.

"I can't do it," Paddy repeats. He punches the side of his chair with the flat of his fist. "They want me to practice going from sitting to standing using yon walking frame down there, and I can't fucking do it."

"You can," Eoin says, casually.

"Don't," Paddy spits. "Don't be chirpy and positive and tell me what I want to hear."

Chirpy and positive is basically Eoin's natural state of being. Unfortunately for Paddy, so is being stubborn and always believing he's right.

"I'm not telling you what you want to hear. I'm telling you that you can." He points at the walking frame. "I'll just stand it back up, shall I? We'll have another go."

"Get to fuck," Paddy says. "I'm not doing it in front of you."

"Why not?" Eoin asks, picking up the frame and positioning it in front of Paddy's chair.

Paddy doesn't answer.

Eoin wobbles the frame in his direction.

Paddy glares.

Eoin stands firm.

Finally, Paddy sighs, takes a deep breath in and grabs onto both sides of the walker. "Fine," he says. "Fine. I hate you."

"I know," Eoin soothes and hovers a hand over Paddy's back as he slowly, haltingly, drags himself up to his feet.

[adeadcreator]

Hihi, and tell luna happy belated birthday for me!

If its okay, could I request the buccigang + josuke who has an s/o with ARFID but doesn't realize it? They frame themselves as just "extremely picky" when its really just paralyzing fear of trying something new, getting to the point of starving themselves when they don't have access to a safe food bc they would rather do that than risk potentially throwing up bc sensory issues.

This was my reality for so long until I realized I was, in fact, not broken and just needed everyone around me to stop pressuring me. Again, feel free not to write for this if you don't feel comfortable! No pressure :)

Thank you!! I had a similar incident when I was in the first stage of my Arthritis, I was so bad that I had to skip classes because I couldn't even move an inch without being in drastic pain. I'm so glad you managed to figure your situation out!

REMEMBER GUYS, DON'T BE SCARED OF ASKING YOUR DOCTORS QUESTION!!! AND IF THEY DON'T BELIEVE YOU CHANGE THEM!!

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗

You sit quietly at the table, poking at your food and smiling weakly when someone asks if you want to try a bite. You’ve always told yourself, “I’m just picky,” but deep down, the anxiety is paralyzing. New textures, smells, or flavors feel impossible to face, and you often go without rather than risk throwing up.

Bruno:

He notices immediately how tense you get when someone suggests new foods.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” he says softly, kneeling beside you. “It’s okay to eat what makes you comfortable. No one here will judge you.”

He quietly makes sure you always have safe food around and sometimes surprises you with little home-cooked things he knows you’ll actually eat. His patience is endless, and he never pushes.

Abbacchio:

His first instinct is protective. If anyone pressures you, his glare alone is enough to shut them down.

He doesn’t say much about your habits, but he notices when you’re struggling and will hand you something familiar, quietly supportive.

Over time, he learns to gently ask, “Do you feel safe with this?” instead of “Why won’t you eat?” He respects boundaries.

Fugo:

Extremely observant, he notices the subtle panic in your body before you even say anything.

“You don’t have to explain, you know,” he tells you once, simply. “I get it. You’re okay. Just… take care of yourself.”

He sometimes sits with you while you eat, offering a calming presence rather than insisting you try anything new. His quiet reassurance helps reduce the stress of mealtimes.

Narancia:

He’s energetic and slightly goofy, trying to make the experience fun without being pushy.

“Hey, look! I brought snacks I know you like!” he’ll say, waving them in front of you.

He’s patient when you decline things and never teases you. Instead, he cheers quietly when you manage even the smallest step, like trying a familiar food in a new setting.

Mista:

Super protective, almost parental in this sense.

“You don’t need to try anything you don’t want,” he says firmly if anyone else insists.

When you’re anxious, he sits with you, sometimes sharing his own “weird food quirks” to normalize the experience.

He celebrates small wins quietly, giving you confidence without pressure.

Trish:

Empathetic and understanding, she quickly picks up on your coping mechanisms.

She often prepares “safe zones” for meals, your favorite foods at predictable times, reducing anxiety.

“You’re not broken,” she says one day, catching your eyes and smiling softly. “You just need people who understand. And we do.”

Giorno:

Observes calmly, noticing triggers and stress points.

“You don’t have to be ashamed of what’s difficult for you,” he says. “I want you to feel safe first, always.”

He works with the others to ensure meals are never stressful and never makes you explain your fears, only offering gentle encouragement.

Josuke:

Outgoing and affectionate, he tries to make eating fun while respecting your limits.

“Okay, no pressure! We can eat whatever you want, even if it’s just your favorite snack,” he says, smiling.

He notices the relief in your posture when no one pressures you and becomes a safe, supportive anchor during meals.

Sometimes he quietly bribes you with silly things for trying tiny new bites, turning small steps into victories without judgment.

[digo3d]

If Top Cat were to have a proper finale, how do you think it should end?

Hmmmmm good kestion

See my first thought was that Dibble dies which would certainly be *A* way to end the series but that's some shit I'd pull if I'm feeling evil, Hanna n Barbera would never do that.

See when approaching this question you gotta think; is it gunna be an angsty ending or a fluffy ending?

Likely fluff since again, HB.

I'd like to imagine the finale would be a two parter and involve something that really makes the gang's love for each other shine, rather than something like Top Cat's Biggest Scam Ever And Now They're Set For Life type thing. Frankly if the show ended with them leaving the alley some way I think that'd be very dissatisfying since the show's been very adamant about the fact that they're all very content with being alley cats.

I've thought of 3 possible episodes for a finale and will spit them out here:

Christmas episode: We finally get that fuckass Christmas episode that was basically teased in T.C. falls in love (y'know Fancy's line that goes 'And how he used to love Christmas. It was always, well, special with him.') T.C. n the gang have had a particularly hard year due to the weather and an increasingly cat-hating political climate and T.C. fears that the gang's starting to lose faith in him since it's been weeks since their last real meal. In fear of losing the gang and to cheer them up he decides he's gunna make sure they have the best Christmas ever. The first part of this Christmas finale special would show their struggles and how hostile everyone's suddenly become to cats, and then T.C. planning out their Best Christmas, with the first part ending with T.C. asking a favor from a crime boss who's daughter he had saved a while ago (a la Zootopia) and then the second part picks up with T.C. getting everything prepared on Christmas Eve with Dibble's help. The episode continues into Christmas Day where the gang wakes up to see the alley absolutely decked to the halls with a giant Christmas tree and a huge pile of presents underneath it with a freshly prepared breakfast for them. They enjoy some other Christmas festivities before it's finally time to start opening all the presents T.C. got for them. They start off with Brain, who asks T.C. how he managed to pull all of this while he tries to guess what present is in the box. T.C. explains that he just called out a small loan as a favor from aforementioned crime boss and then freezes as he remembers the one small detail that T.C. forgot about. He only had that loan for Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day, and was supposed to have all the money back by 12 PM on Christmas, not midnight like he thought. Some goons bust into the alley and start tearing down all the decorations and taking away all the festivities. One of them even rips Brain's present right out of his paws. T.C. begs and pleads the boss to extend the loan but everything is final. The goons leave the alley with nothing festive remaining. Everyone's quiet as they hear the extremely rare sound of T.C. sniffling at the end of the alley. This would be the first time any of them had really seen him cry like this. He notices that they noticed, and he pretends to act as cool as he always does, but eventually scuttles away. The gang finds him later hiding in a corner trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. Benny taps his shoulder, and T.C. sees him holding one shoddily-wrapped present. He explains that the gang only managed to scrape together enough money to buy one present, and figured that T.C. should get to have it. Although slightly surprised, T.C. takes the present and opens it. He pulls out a luxurious, fluffy blanket. 'Y'know cuz like, uh, yours don't keep you warm anymore.' Spook explains. T.C. smiles and purrs quietly as he rubs his face on the soft blanket. He opens his mouth to explain his grievances. 'I just... I just wanted to-' 'We know, T.C. Don't worry about it.' Chooch says. 'I... Heh. It's a silly thought but I was scared that you lot were givin' up on me.' T.C. admits. 'Duhhhh, we'd never give up on you, T.C.! You're, uhh, you're our Top Cat!' 'And like, uh, we don't need none of those, like, sellout decorations or, uh, wild presents, dad.' 'Yeah, Christmas is special because of you, not some high-end way of living.' Fancy purrs. T.C., with a quivering smile, wipes away some tears. 'You idiots, you're all gunna make me cry.' The episode (and series) ends with them heading back to the alley and huddling all together underneath T.C.'s new blanket. Dibble leaves a big Christmas ham for them as they sleep on his way home.

T.C. gets kidnapped because he tried to scam the wrong person and the gang + Dibble has to save him without his leadership guiding them. I don't have nearly as many specifics for this one as I did the Christmas one but this could be neat. This could also work with a plot similar to The Movie where T.C. gets arrested for a crime he never committed and the gang has to prove his innocence.

Dibble's thinking of retiring and the gang, while initially ecstatic, remembers all the other times some other cop was pounding his beat and desperately try to convince him not to

TL:DR based on how much I've written for each of these, probably the Christmas episode I proposed.

[alchemiclee]

as a fellow introvert; we are social creatures. introverts who purposefully see no one for months on end are usually just in a cycle where its been so long since they’ve hung out that it’s too intimidating for them to do anymore. i 100% feel tired after hanging out with my friends but i DO also feel happy and refreshed! tl;dr - you’re super normal lol. try to reach out to a couple people just to chat this week <3

thanks for reaching out I really appreciate it❤️ but I have to rant a bit. I allow you to ignore it!

I wish to not be a social creature because going too long without having a friend to talk to or not having someone to talk with almost daily feels bad and it's so hard to have a friend when I need one D:

i've been reaching out to people for the last few weeks or so but they don't reach back. try playing games with people but they play with their other friends or dont feel like playing. invite people to hang out but they say maybe and never give an answer or don't respond.

I don't want to bother my closest friends in our group chat too much in our group chat but the chat is mostly me sending messages with no response and even couple times saying I need a friend when I was having bad days but they didn't want to chat and I dont want to force anyone to entertain my lonely depressed ass. (especially when all I really needed was to talk about the new star rail stuff to distract me but I don't think they've finished it yet so I don't want to spoil) they live together so they always have to socialize and probably make each other tired without needing to add me to it.

so i've also been trying to reach out to new people, like joining twitch chats again for the first time in years. but that never goes well and doesn't satisfy my social needs. too many people talking at once and being the new person no one cares about and all....getting to know a new is very exhausting. but it's so hard to just be able to skip all that getting to know each other stuff jump straight into talking about a thing we both like (in this case it's star rail and cosplay and maybe art) I don't have enough already-known people to reach out to and i'm too tired to do the small talk dance until it's appropriate to jump into special interest territory. being autistic is so exhausting. I with to be one of those rare autistics I sometimes hear about that have 0 interest in social interaction at all

so as you can see, i'm trying. so hard. to the point I'm exhausting myself. it's been too much work for no payoff and makes things feel worse when the outcome isn't what I need and its constant reaching with no one grabbing my hand back. so I keep making annoying tumblr posts about it. i'm so sorry to anyone that reads my nonsense 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this is a normal thing with me but it's usually kept to my other blog that's reserved for more serious posts like this but I tried posting here as a way to "reach out" and see if it invites any friendly friends or something but I don't think i'm doing it right...

(but I am going to a con tomorrow with someone I haven't talked to in like 2 years. but we don't have anything in common anymore so theres not much to talk about. he's the only person who responded to me after trying to reach out for like a month but I fear it will only exhaust me being around too many people and not help this gross need to have a deeper connecting socialization D:)

[mcrdvcks]

he was chaos, he was revelry

summary: Bucky tells you to go out and have a day at the mall and get whatever you want. When you only buy a $20 Squishmallow, he has to intervene. word count: 2.9k+ pairing: mafia!bucky barnes x fem!reader notes: if you don't know, i'm a sucker for mafia dark romance books. like literally a whore when it comes to reading them on my kindle. most of the time it's the female character spending thousands of dollars with the male character's money because it's enemies to lovers, but here's a little twist on it! <3 warnings/tags: mafia au, sweetheart!reader, shy!reader, bucky is the mafia boss and rich, fluff, bucky loves his girl

The sun barely filtered through the heavy curtains when you padded into the kitchen, the tile cold under your socks. The scent of strong coffee hit you first, followed by the low rumble of Bucky’s voice from the adjoining office.

You’d gotten used to it, mostly—the way his mornings started in one world while yours stayed in another. You could hear him through the cracked door, his voice sharp, all steel and threat. “If he thinks he can skim off my shipments, he’s got another thing coming. I want him handled by noon. Make it clean.”

A pause. The scrape of a chair. His tone dipped even lower. “And tell the Rosetti crew if they send another man sniffing around my docks, I’ll gut their operation and leave the bones for the rats. Yeah. That’s all.”

Silence followed, broken only by the soft click of the call ending. And then the door opened, and suddenly you weren’t in the world of the Barnes Syndicate anymore.

“Morning, doll,” Bucky murmured, his voice rich and warm like the coffee he carried. The sharp edges of his morning melted away the second he saw you standing there in your oversized sleep shirt, hair a little mussed, hands tucked in your sleeves. His whole face softened, like the violence of a few minutes ago was just smoke he could brush off his shoulders.

“Hi,” you whispered back, smiling shyly as he walked over and pressed a kiss to your temple. He smelled like cedar and the faint bite of cologne, a mix you’d long since decided meant home.

“Made your tea,” he said, nodding toward the counter. Sure enough, the mug was there, steeping just the way you liked. “Sit. Eat something for me, yeah?”

You obeyed, curling into the chair as he slid a plate with toast and strawberries your way. He perched on the edge of the table, still in his black dress shirt and vest from early meetings, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the gleam of his metal arm in the morning light.

“You’re free today, right?” he asked casually, as if he hadn’t just threatened someone’s life two minutes ago.

You nodded, chewing on a strawberry.

“Good. I want you to go out, doll. Shopping. Whatever you want. No limit.” He leaned in to kiss the top of your head, and you could hear the indulgent smile in his voice. “You’ve been holed up here too much.”

Your first instinct was to refuse. “Bucky, I don’t need anything—”

“Not what I asked,” he interrupted gently, but with the kind of authority that made your cheeks warm. “Humor me. Take Natasha with you. Let her carry the bags.”

You blinked. “Bags?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Plural. Go spoil yourself for me, sweetheart.”

---

Natasha Romanoff was the perfect bodyguard. Or maybe the scariest one. She leaned against the mall’s marble column in black jeans and a leather jacket, sunglasses hiding her sharp eyes. Everyone who glanced her way looked twice, then decided they had somewhere else to be.

Meanwhile, you hesitated at the entrance of yet another gleaming luxury store, feeling like a kid sneaking somewhere you didn’t belong. The displays were immaculate—handbags behind glass, shoes lined like art pieces.

“You can go in,” Natasha said dryly behind you, arms folded. “You’re the girlfriend of James Barnes. They’ll probably carry you to the register if you ask.”

“That’s… worse,” you muttered under your breath, earning the faintest twitch of a smirk from her.

You wandered inside anyway, letting the sales associates swarm. They started listing the merits of different bags and scarves, but your heart wasn’t in it. The idea of spending thousands of Bucky’s money on a purse that would just sit in your closet made your stomach twist.

After an hour of store-hopping, you had… nothing.

Natasha raised an eyebrow as you walked past a fountain, hands still empty. “You’re going to break his heart, you know.”

“I’m looking!” you insisted, cheeks warm. “I just… don’t need any of this.”

Then, as if fate had a sense of humor, you spotted it.

A wall of squishmallows.

You froze in the doorway of the toy store, heart stuttering at the sight of the soft pastel sea of plush animals. There, on the middle shelf, was the one you’d been eyeing for weeks: a fat little lavender bunny with floppy ears and a permanent sleepy smile.

You drifted closer, fingers brushing the soft fabric like it was spun sugar. Price tag: $20.

Behind you, Natasha sighed, long-suffering. “This is what gets her attention. Not the diamond bracelet. A… blob.”

“It’s not a blob,” you whispered defensively, hugging the smaller version in your arms first. It was only $9.99, which felt safer somehow, but after a long stretch of indecision—cuddling it, putting it back, and staring at the bigger one—you finally picked up the larger bunny.

It was so soft.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself, taking it to the register. Natasha trailed after you, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe this was her life now.

Hours later, back in the car, your entire “haul” sat on your lap: one squishmallow. The driver’s rearview mirror reflected the barest twitch of his mouth, like he knew exactly how Bucky would react.

You clutched the plush closer and sank into the leather seat, shyly happy in a way that didn’t need anything more than this $20 marshmallow bunny.

---

Bucky’s evening had been a blur of phone calls and quiet threats. He’d wrapped up a meeting in his office, loosening his tie as he sank into the leather chair and finally glanced at the credit card notifications on his phone.

He expected a list of designer boutiques, a jeweler, maybe that cozy little bookstore he knew you loved. He’d practically begged you to go wild, and he wanted to see the proof in numbers.

Instead, there was just… one charge. $20.48 – Playtime Toys.

Bucky blinked. He stared at it like it might rearrange itself into something sensible. “Twenty… dollars?” he muttered under his breath, scrolling to make sure the statement wasn’t glitching. That was it. The entire day out, with Natasha as your guard, and you’d spent less than a single steak at his favorite restaurant.

He called his driver first. “Where’d she go today?” Bucky’s voice was calm but suspicious.

The driver chuckled quietly. “Couple clothing stores. Looked around. Bookstore for a while. Stationery shop too. She didn’t buy anything. Just… looked.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. “And the toy store?”

“She found a stuffed animal, boss. Held the small one for a long time. Put it back. Eventually bought the bigger one. That was it.”

Bucky sighed and ended the call. He sat there for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. He could practically picture you, wandering the mall like a shy little ghost, falling in love with a plush toy instead of anything remotely expensive.

He wanted to be exasperated. But mostly? His chest ached with something warm and stupidly fond.

---

The penthouse was quiet when he returned, the only light spilling from a single lamp in the living room. His steps softened instinctively when he spotted you curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

You were on your side, hair falling over your face, the TV murmuring some late-afternoon sitcom rerun. And nestled against your chest, clutched in both arms like a lifeline, was a plump lavender bunny squishmallow.

Bucky froze in the doorway, the sight hitting him like a punch. God, he was ruined for this. His cold, lethal world fell away entirely as he walked closer. You’d tucked your cheek against the plush, and he noticed—when he leaned down—that faint, familiar scent. His cologne.

He huffed a quiet, disbelieving laugh, crouching beside the couch. “You sprayed my cologne on a marshmallow bunny, doll?” he murmured, brushing a knuckle over your soft hair.

You mumbled something sleepy, half-lost in a dream, nuzzling the squishmallow closer.

Bucky sat on the coffee table, elbows on his knees, and just… watched you for a moment. The only person in his entire world who could fall asleep clutching a stuffed animal while he had men stationed with rifles on the roof.

He finally, gently, tugged the bunny from your arms. You stirred with a tiny whine, lashes fluttering as you blinked up at him, bleary and soft. “Bucky?” Your voice was a whisper.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, lowering himself onto the couch and pulling you into his lap with one smooth motion. You melted against him instantly, head on his shoulder, the residual warmth of sleep making you pliant. He pressed a kiss to your hair. “We need to talk about your… shopping.”

You perked up faintly, confusion knitting your brows. “Shopping?”

He held the squishmallow up like evidence. “This. This is all you bought?”

Warmth flooded your cheeks. “I… I didn’t really see anything I needed…”

“Doll,” he said, voice low and thick with amusement and a hint of frustration, “I told you to spoil yourself. I gave you a driver, Natasha, my card… and you spent twenty bucks at a toy store?”

You squirmed in his lap, shy and defensive. “I like it. And… it was enough.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then let out a slow breath and shook his head, lips twitching. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

“Sorry…” you whispered, eyes dropping.

“No, no, don’t you dare apologize.” His voice softened instantly, the steel melting into warm honey as he cupped your cheek. “I just… I want you to have things, doll. Pretty things. Comfortable things. Everything.”

“I don’t need everything,” you murmured, leaning into his palm.

He kissed your temple, his metal hand rubbing slow circles on your thigh. “Then I’ll just have to keep trying until you take at least something from me that costs more than a marshmallow.”

You giggled quietly, burying your face in his neck. “It’s a bunny.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, hugging you tighter, the plush squished between your bodies. “My terrifying reputation out there, and at home my girl smells like sugar and sleeps with a bunny.” His thumb stroked along your jaw, and he whispered, “you’re mine, doll. And I’m gonna spoil you whether you like it or not. Starting tomorrow. No more twenty-dollar limits.”

“Bucky…” You whined softly, but your arms tightened around him anyway, secretly loving every second of his indulgent attention.

He chuckled low in his chest, already plotting which stores he’d personally escort you to next—because clearly, leaving you to your own devices had resulted in a lavender squishmallow and absolutely nothing else.

---

You woke to warmth. It was the slow kind—like sunlight through gauze, or fingers tracing your hip beneath the covers. The sheets were tangled around your legs, and your cheek was pressed into Bucky’s chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your ear.

His arm was slung low around your waist, all protective weight and heat, and you barely had time to stretch before his hand slid up to your ribs. “Morning, doll,” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.

You made a soft noise in reply, pressing your nose to the crook of his neck. He smelled like expensive soap and the clean spice of his cologne—the same one you’d sprayed, just a little, onto the squishmallow now sitting like a sentry on the couch across the room.

His chest rumbled under your cheek. “You smell like that damn bunny again.”

You smiled sleepily, too warm and soft to be embarrassed.

“You gonna let me do this properly today?” he asked after a moment. His voice was lighter now, teasing, but there was a thread of something real beneath it. “Let me spoil you?”

Your hand found his shirt—half unbuttoned, likely from some midnight phone call you’d slept through—and you nodded against him. “M’kay,” you mumbled.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and it lingered. “Good girl.”

---

You’d never shopped with Bucky before. Not like this. Sure, you’d trailed beside him during quick errands or sat with him while he bought suits—but this was different. This time, you were the purpose. The focus.

You’d barely made it out of the car before the first store employee spotted him.

The shift was immediate.

People noticed him the moment he entered any space. Not because he made noise—he didn’t. Bucky moved with the coiled calm of someone who knew the world would part for him whether he asked it to or not. His arm slid around your waist as you stepped into the first shop, and just like that, every sales associate in the building looked like they were preparing for royalty and war all at once.

You leaned into his side instinctively. “I think they know who you are,” you whispered as a woman in a sharp black suit all but sprinted to the counter to alert someone else.

Bucky smirked. “That’s the idea.”

“I don’t need—”

“Sweetheart.” He stopped you with a gentle squeeze around your waist. “We are not doing the bunny stunt again.”

You flushed immediately. “It wasn’t a stunt—”

“Mm.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss behind your ear. “Start picking things. Or I’ll start picking for you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already steering you toward the displays, one hand low on your back.

The boutique was quiet and spotless, everything sleek and expensive. You gravitated toward a soft knit sweater first—cream-colored, slightly oversized.

Bucky watched you run your fingers along the hem, then plucked it off the hanger himself and handed it to an assistant. “This one. In three colors.”

You blinked. “Three—”

“Cream, navy, and that soft pink. You’ll wear that one at home.”

Your heart gave a traitorous flutter. He was already moving on.

By the third store, you had a growing collection of bags hanging from his metal arm—cozy sweaters, soft linen dresses, a pair of boots you’d admired silently until he caught the look in your eye and made the purchase without blinking.

You tried to be subtle about what you liked.

He noticed everything anyway.

When you paused too long at a shelf of delicate hair clips, he picked out two and handed them to the attendant with a nod. When your fingers drifted toward a candle with a vanilla-peach scent, it was quietly added to the growing pile.

And when you looked guilty every time he paid?

He leaned in close, speaking low so only you could hear. “You don’t get it yet, do you?” he murmured, thumb brushing your hip. “All of this? It’s for you. Always has been.”

You swallowed hard and didn’t trust yourself to reply.

---

By noon, you had four shopping bags of your own and six more hanging from Bucky’s arms, none of which he’d let you carry. You insisted on at least holding one—and he handed you the smallest, lightest one with a smirk.

“I’m gonna have to build you a closet just for gifts,” he muttered as the two of you walked through the marble corridor of the high-end mall.

“I don’t need a closet.”

“You need shelves. A dressing room. Hell, a second apartment.”

You gave him a look. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you spent twenty dollars on a plush rabbit like I haven’t buried people for more expensive things.” He turned to face you, stepping into your path and backing you up gently against a column. His arms caged you in without touching, just the looming warmth of his body in that damn black jacket he looked so good in.

You blinked up at him, flustered by the attention—and the grin playing at the edge of his mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” he said, softer now. “Let me give you everything. You don’t have to be shy with me. Ever.”

Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the bag you were holding. “I’m just… not used to all of this.”

“I know,” he said, leaning closer, his forehead brushing yours. “But get used to it. Because I’m never gonna stop.”

---

By the time you returned to the penthouse, you were exhausted, glowing, and more than a little overwhelmed.

Bucky insisted you go lie down while he had the packages brought in and sorted.

When you finally walked into the bedroom, the bags were neatly arranged in a corner—and your squishmallow was still sitting upright on the couch by the window, as if it had stood guard the entire time.

You smiled at it, then dropped into bed.

Moments later, the mattress dipped beside you, and Bucky pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. “You did good today, doll.”

“I bought stuff.”

“You let me buy stuff for you,” he corrected, arms curling tighter around your waist. “Progress.”

You tucked your face into his neck, voice muffled. “You still mad I only bought a bunny?”

“Still can’t believe it,” he said, chuckling. “But I’ll allow it.”

You let out a soft laugh, heart so full you didn’t know what to do with it. Outside this room, he was the head of the Barnes Syndicate—ruthless, respected, feared. But here, with you, he was the man who carried ten bags through a mall just to see you smile.

[beloveds-embrace]

(a very low-effort post abt 141 x their new hacker- you. For better immersion, click on the song link during Soap’s workout! <3)

The first time you make contact, it’s through their personal phones.

Not the official military-issued devices- no, those would be too easy. You wanted to make an impression.

So when Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap each glance at their personal screens, expecting the usual notifications from Laswell, they’re instead greeted by:

(¬‿¬) Hello, boys.

Price sighs like a disappointed father, having been forwarned of your antics, and still immediately calls Laswell.

“Care to explain why my phone just got hijacked?”

Laswell doesn’t sound surprised. If anything, she sounds like she’s been expecting and waiting for this- for his phone call specifically about getting hacked. “That’s your new hacker.”

Price pinches the bridge of his nose, while the others exchange Looks of Consideration™️. “That’s how she introduces herself?”

“She’s efficient.”

“She’s cheeky.”

“She’s listening,” you interject, making them all jolt as your voice plays from the phone speakers, honey-sweet and undeniably smug.

There’s a long silence. Then Gaz whispers: “What the fuck?”

You giggle. (≧◡≦) flashes onto all their screens right after that, just as cheeky as your tone.

“So she’s just gonna creep around in our phones now?” Gaz asks after that, wary, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

In response, just his screen flickers, and a new message appears.

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ Rude.

Laswell sighs again, much like an exasperated mother, and gestures at their phones. “Give her a chance. She is, despite everything, good at what she does.”

And so from that that moment on, you’re everywhere; they don’t see you, but they feel your presence. You’re in their systems, their devices, and their comms.

Ghost boots up his laptop one day, only to find that his standard background has been replaced with a pixelated skull and crossbones- like those they did on pirate ships in movies. Below it, in small text:

For the spookiest boy.

He says nothing, just tilts his head slightly before closing the laptop.

And when Price logs into the briefing room terminal, instead of the standard military insignia, the screen briefly flashes with the words:

WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN DILF.

Soap loses it. Price glares at him, then at the screen, then sighs, muttering, “Christ.”

Soap isn’t free from your shenanigans, though.

One day, while doing his usual workout, he pulls up his playlist. The moment he presses play, his music app forcefully closes and reopens with “The Drunk Scotsman” blasting at full volume.

“NO, NO, NO-“ Soap scrambles to shut it off as the entire base turns to look at him.

On his screen, once the app is blessedly closed, a message pops up:

(ʘ‿ʘ) Dance, pretty boy.

And then Gaz’s torture is quieter, but no less effective.

Every so often, while he’s texting, his camera light flickers on. Not long enough to take a photo- just a brief, eerie blink before an emoji appears on his screen:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He groans. “She’s messing with me.”

“You mean flirting?” Soap smirks, leaning closer to the phone and chuckling as the camera light flickers back on for just another few seconds.

Gaz scowls. “…I hope so.”

Still, despite all your antics, you’re brilliant at what you do. And they learn this firsthand during their first mission with you.

“All teams, check-in.” Price orders as they move through a darkened compound.

Instead of Laswell’s voice responding, it’s yours. Soft, smooth, and playful.

“Five by five, Captain.”

There’s a pause- brief but notable. Then, Price exhales. “You hacking my comms now, too?”

“Wouldn’t be a very good hacker if I couldn’t, would I?”

Soap snorts, snickering with Gaz. “She’s got a point.”

Ghost, listening quietly, murmurs: “Thought you didn’t speak.”

“Only when necessary. Or when I feel like annoying you.”

Your voice is warm, teasing. If Ghost were anyone else, he might have smiled. And then, just like that, you’re all business.

“Sniper on the rooftop, two o’clock.”

Ghost adjusts, and then fires. A body drops.

“Price, your six.”

The captain pivots, taking down the enemy creeping behind him.

“Soap, slow down.”

“I got this,” Soap insists- only for a grenade to go off near him. “…I don’t got this.”

“Clearly.”

“…Shut up.”

With you in their ears, everything runs smoother. Their feeds don’t lag. Their encryptions are tighter. They feel- secure. With you and Laswell? Almost untouchable, but they don’t let it get to their heads.

When they return to base, exhausted but alive, their phones light up with a single message:

(￣︶￣) Good job, boys.

They stare at their screens, and then Price huffs a laugh. Soap grins. Gaz shakes his head. Ghost, unseen beneath his mask, smirks.

They don’t know your face. Haven’t met you in person.

But they decide you’re theirs, and they are yours. Even if you’re just unknown- for now, anyways.

[simonz-angel]

sugardaddy simon headcanons please🙏

hii baby yknow i’ve gotchu. please tell me how i did, if i didn’t do it justice just lemme know pretty doll always happy to give it another go!! these are my personal thoughts on sugar!papa simon but yk. now enjoy babydoll, thank you for your lil request!! feel free to request any specifics!

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who becomes your personal little shopper. who shops for you outside of you being with him. grabbing at anything from sleek dresses, to frilly, to lacy lingerie. anything he wants to see you in, he might even have a card copy of your measurements, being sure to get the best size and fit.

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who provides you with your own little credit card. he’d found one with a 10k limit and sucked his own damn teeth, perfect. he’s more than happy to be paying it off, he’s almost disappointed you don’t hit your spending limit. but then again, you like to make your big purchases with him.

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who sends you $200 with each pretty picture you provide. wether it’s that pretty face, an outfit for approval or the teasing ones, he’s blowing up your bank account. the more suggestive, the more you get. although it’s really just a treat, because you’ve already got more money then him at this point.

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who stuffs $100’s in your bra before he leaves. he’d be kissing, sucking at neck, ignoring the sour taste of your perfume. and his thick fingers are digging into the crevice between soft padding and doughy skin, money crinkling as he stuffs your bra full.

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who lets you boss him around. ordering him around in stores till he’s practically sweating running around, all the while you sit there pretty waiting for him. rolling your eyes when he takes too long, and when he at least tries to hand the bag over so you can see your most recent purchase, you scold him, “isn’t that like your job?” 🙄

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who bullies you right back with his cock. grabbing at the nape of your neck to keep you face down in the pillow. he loves all your petty treatment, but sometimes he’s gotta tone it down. and his other hand holds tight at your waist, bending you into a deep arch, chest pressed flush to the bedding. “anything else you wanna say to me, bunny?” he laughs, but when your sharp, fresh nails slide against the back of his thighs, and your head twists, you demand. “faster, i have places to be.”

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who gives you ultimate princess treatment. letting you sit your pretty, pussy down onto his face. you bury him practically, riding at his face, grabbing at his short, graying golden hair all while giggling. he lets his hands find home, grabbing and squeezing at your thighs, at your ass, before reaching to pinch at your peachy, nipple. his tongue works hard, but your hips work harder, he’s sure you’ll break his nose soon with the way you jump and grind, but he doesn’t think he’ll mind. 🤷‍♀️

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who keeps a folder of all your pretty vids and pics on his phone. he likes scrolling through them in the office, grabbing at the crotch of his dress pants when they tighten up. it’s cruel the shit you send him, your sweet, small fingers playing with your clit, dipping in to the puddle of slick that accumulates as you play with yourself. and he scrolls, past over the picture of your pretty tits pushed together, before settling on one. you’re perched up onto his pillow, the one he buries his face in as he sleeps. your thick thighs straddled tight around it as you grind your bare pussy up over it. and he’s unbuckling his belt, as you’re pulling at your peaked nipples, bouncing like a little bunny as you work yourself up.

❤︎ sugar!daddy simon who provides any and everything you like. he’d do anything you ask of him, and so he’s lowering his hand. practically smearing the pretty, pink tip of his cock over the camera lens, and his wrist flicks, jerking himself off. and in the back of the camera you can see his head fall back, his lips crack open in a soft groan. and he sends the video, with a sweet (your fav) text after it. “take you out when i get home?”

hope you enjoyed again baby, i really appreciate the request, feel free to get back to me with your thoughts ❤︎

divider creds - @bernardsbendystraws

[dating-eveeything]

could you please do a dorian fic? Maybe angsty, since he seems to only want friendship, even tho trap dorian mentions being interested in fwb? (Like maybe the mc is interested in love but woukd take anything they can get with him) Or smth else, maybe end in comfort, its up to you, i just havent seen any fics of him!!

Ty 🫶

Can't go through with it

Summary: During a heated encounter with Trap Dorian, you try your best to be respectful of all the other Dorian's boundaries

Featuring: Dorian (specifically Trap Dorian, but others are mentioned)

Fic type: slight angst(?), slight lime (making out, some grinding) in the beginning, and comfort in the end

No specific pronouns used, no use of y/n

Thank you for being my first request <3

He kept you pushed against the wall, hand gently caressing your torso as yours rest on his bare shoulders. The heated kisses he's offering you are nothing but pleasurable, if your quiet moans were anything to go by. Both of your bodies were running hot as his crotch grinded on yours, one of his hands holding your leg up against him to get better access. It was hot, he was hot.

But there was a nagging issue in the back of your head, one not even this impromptu make out session could stop you from thinking about. And Trap Dorian could somehow tell, somehow feel how slightly unfocused you were. "Hey," he mutters, raising his hand from your torso to your face "you alright?" His tone was nothing but sweet as he asked.

With a shake of your head you pull your hands off of him and shake your leg free from his grip, now back to standing with both. He still had you trapped on the wall, but seeing how you were letting yourself go from him he takes a small step back to give you more space to breathe. "What's wrong sweetheart?" Your eyes made contact with his, and for a second you wanted to ignore it all and go back to making out with him; it would be easier that way wouldn't it?

"it's just..." You begin, looking off to the side, leaning into his palm "I don't think it's right." Trap Dorian raises a brow in confusion "What's not right? Did I do something wrong? Cross a boundary by accident?" His question hit too close to home, yet somehow missed the door. "It's not you crossing boundaries. Dorian, it's me who did" the shameful look on your face makes Trap Dorian's heart burn, his hand coming up so he can cup your face with both and make you look at him.

"what do you mean?" His black eyes searching for the answer he somehow doesn't know.

"The other Dorian's..." You begin, hearing his breath hitch for just a moment, "they don't want this. I can't... I can't do this knowing you're all sort of like- I don't know, a hive mind or something." There's a pause, the air so thick you felt like you were going to choke on it before Trap Dorian starts laughing.

His laughing reverberates onto you, his hands shaking and bringing your face along for the ride. "A hivemind? Is that what people think of us as?" He asks between huffs and some chuckles. It's obvious he's trying to calm down from the surprise gigglefest. "I don't know! You guys all know the same stuff somehow, what am I supposed to assume??" You press, trying to keep the conversation serious while also hiding your embarrassment.

"Oh, sweetheart" Trap Dorian pressing his hands closer to your face, almost squishing your cheeks together in the process ",I'm touched you care so much about the others feelings." And you think that's where he'll stop, that he'll try and continue the make out without any other comment, but he continues. "We do sort of.. Share our thoughts- well, not really. We all just sort of... Know? But we are, sort of, different people." His explanation is confusing and he knows it, shrugging a few times as it's really hard for him to explain it. "I want this, want you, but if you really don't want to- in fear of making the others uncomfortable somehow, I won't force you." He leans his forehead on yours, eyes closing to revel in your warmth, feeling your breath stutter across his face. "Shame too, you're a real good kisser." He whispers that last part, getting a quiet laugh out of you followed by a 'thanks' just barely audible.

The two of you sort of stay like that, leaning foreheads together and simply enjoying the others presence and hold.

[kenzdolls]

JAX RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS .

⌗ pairing: (tadc) jax x gn! reader

⌗ warnings: lowercase intended, has spoilers of ep 5

⌗ a/n: idk i did this since I’m trying to reach out to other fandoms (yes i’m doing all the characters i have free will)..also since my inbox is dry, i’m asking…PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS MY BRAIN IS FRYING FROM WRITERS BLOCK

FIRST TIME MEETING:

▹ jax literally does NOT care when you first arrive because he's seen too many newbies lose their minds within the first week (he's learned not to get attached too quickly after what happened with ribbit)

▹ probably pranks you on your literal first day because "welcome to hell, might as well get used to it now" but then feels weirdly guilty about it later??? like he'll leave a small apology gift outside your room (probably stolen from someone else's room tbh)

▹ gets annoyed when you don't immediately break down or start crying like most new people do - where's the entertainment in that??? you're just… adapting??? (this bothers him more than it should)

▹ starts paying attention to you when you either: 1) successfully prank him back, 2) don't rat him out when caine asks who put glitter in ragatha's hair, or 3) laugh at his jokes even when everyone else is giving him death glares

▹ definitely steals your room key within the first week just to see what you're hiding but then gets genuinely curious about your little personal space and the weird way you've arranged everything

▹ makes fun of whatever coping mechanism you've developed but secretly takes notes because holy shit you're actually handling this better than he did

▹ starts doing that thing where he "accidentally" bumps into you during adventures or walks just a little too close when caine isn't looking (personal space who???)

▹ probably gives you a stupid nickname based on either: something embarrassing that happened to you, your appearance, or just to annoy you (spoiler alert: he keeps using it even when you start dating)

▹ gets genuinely confused when you start talking to him like he's a actual person and not just the "funny mean rabbit" because??? people don't usually do that??? ribbit was the last person who really saw him as jax and not just comic relief

HIM CRUSHING ON YOU:

▹ this man is in DENIAL with a capital D - like he'll literally tell himself "i don't like them, i just think they're less annoying than the others" while actively going out of his way to spend time with you

▹ starts hoarding little things that remind him of you (a button that fell off your outfit, a drawing you doodled during a boring caine explanation, etc.) but will DIE before admitting it

▹ gets weirdly protective but tries to play it off as "you're MY entertainment, nobody else gets to mess with you" but really he's terrified of losing another person he cares about

▹ begins pranking you more but they're like… softer pranks??? like putting fake spiders in your bed (but making sure they're not the kind that actually scare you) or rearranging your room (but not actually breaking anything important)

▹ starts having those moments where he'll say something genuinely sweet/supportive but then IMMEDIATELY follow it up with an insult to maintain his image ("you're not completely terrible at this… for an idiot")

▹ catches himself staring at you during adventures and gets MAD about it - like why are you so distracting??? he has chaos to cause and you're just… existing??? attractively??? rude.

▹ probably has a minor crisis about his feelings because the last person he really cared about was ribbit and we all know how that ended (he's absolutely terrified of caring about someone again)

▹ gets jealous when other circus members get your attention but won't admit it - instead he'll just insert himself into conversations or create distractions to get focus back on him

▹ starts doing that thing where he remembers really specific details about you (your favorite corner to sit in, how you fidget when you're anxious, what makes you laugh) but acts like he doesn't pay attention to anyone

▹ has definitely had at least one dream about you and woke up SO MAD about it because feelings are WEAKNESS and he doesn't DO weakness

▹ begins testing the waters with more physical contact - "accidentally" grabbing your hand during adventures, leaning against you when he's "tired," finding excuses to be in your personal space

▹ gets genuinely upset when you're having a bad day but doesn't know how to help without compromising his reputation, so he'll just… be less mean to everyone that day (the others notice and are confused)

YOU DATING HIM:

▹ asking you out was probably the most awkward thing he's ever done because he had to drop the act for like 0.5 seconds to be genuine and he HATED every second of it (but your reaction made it worth it)

▹ your relationship is 70% banter and 30% genuine sweet moments when he thinks nobody is looking and 100% him being terrified you'll abstract and leave him like ribbit did

▹ still pranks you but now it's "couple pranks" - like putting fake love letters in your room signed from other circus members just to see you get flustered, or rearranging your stuff to spell out "I LOVE YOU" (but then denying he did it)

▹ gets SUPER jealous but tries to play it off as possessiveness - "that's MY idiot you're talking to" (he's not fooling anyone, he's just insecure)

▹ shows affection through: stealing things for you, letting you win at games sometimes, sharing his food, and most importantly - telling you his real thoughts instead of just sarcastic quips

▹ absolutely MELTS when you play with his ears but will threaten anyone who points it out (his ears do that little twitch thing when he's happy and you're the only one who gets to see it)

▹ has nightmares about you abstracting and will sometimes wake up and just… need to see you to make sure you're okay (he'll make up some excuse about being bored or wanting to prank someone)

▹ starts including you in his pranks as a partner rather than a target - you two become the WORST duo and everyone else suffers for it (but secretly they think it's cute that jax is happy)

▹ gets genuinely soft when you're upset about the whole "being trapped forever" thing because he KNOWS that feeling and doesn't want you to go through it alone like he did

▹ probably has a secret stash of things he's made/found for you that he's too embarrassed to give you directly, so he just leaves them places you'll find them

▹ learns your triggers and genuinely tries to avoid them in his pranks/jokes because making you laugh is good, making you hurt is NOT (growth!!!)

▹ gets scared when you're too quiet or seem distant because what if you're starting to abstract what if he's losing you what if what if what if so he'll just hover around you until you're acting normal again

▹ your first kiss was probably during a really dangerous adventure when he thought one of you might not make it out, and he just couldn't leave things unsaid (very dramatic, very him)

▹ now he's stuck between his fear of losing you and his genuine happiness at having you, so he's like… aggressively affectionate but also constantly worried (someone get this rabbit some therapy)

▹ starts planning little dates within the circus - like setting up movie nights in the common area or finding ways to get you both out of adventures so you can just hang out

▹ definitely practices saying "i love you" in his room before he actually says it to you (and when he finally does, it's probably during an argument where he just blurts it out and then gets embarrassed)

⌗ taglist: @idexmids @siriuslyginnychase @eleteo125 @st4r-dustx @corpsebridenightamare @boreaswrites [OPEN]

✦ REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ✦

© KENZDOLLS 2025 . do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work in anyway including the use of ai onto any other social media platforms or it will permit an instant block on all platforms.

[solarstranger]

“excuse me?”

both you and bakugou look up from your conversation, a confused smile tugging at your lips when your eyes land on a woman you’ve never seen before, a sheepish yet somehow determined look etched across her unfamiliar face. “yes?”

at your welcoming albeit slightly bemused response, she deflates a little in what you think is relief, her mouth morphing into a good-natured grin.

“i didn’t mean to disturb your lunch,” she starts, fiddling with the sling of her crossbody bag, “but i just wanted to say. i love your dress.”

oh.

“t-thank you so much,” you exclaim, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. you’re about to say something nice about her hair, but she’s already skittering back to her group of friends, who laugh affectionately at the woman before turning to the other direction, but not without a friendly wave goodbye at the two of you.

you return the gesture with a chuckle, although that immediately contorts into a pout the second they’re out of sight.

“what?” bakugou asks without missing a beat.

you frown at your boyfriend, before looking down at your half-finished plate of pasta. “i wanted to compliment her, too.”

for a second, bakugou doesn’t say anything, opting to study your crestfallen face instead. a moment passes with neither of you uttering a word until you finally notice him staring at you, an impassive expression on his features. you raise an eyebrow quizically. “what?”

“nothing,” he shakes his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

and when you only toss him a deadpan look, he sighs.

“it’s just—” he begins, clearly searching for the right words to say, “here you are—being complimented for being fucking pretty and your immediate response is to get sad you didn’t get to compliment them back.”

at that, your frown deepens. “how else am i supposed to react, then?”

“i don’t know—” he huffs, leaning back on his chair, “flush? be flattered? say it’s your boyfriend who got you that dress?”

“ah. so you only wanted bragging rights.”

“that’s not the point.”

you bite back a grin. “sure, big guy.”

“you—”

“and they didn’t compliment me, per se,” you continue before he can ramble on, voice quieter. “they complimented my dress.”

“which only works because it’s you who’s wearing it, dumbass.”

despite yourself, you smile at the man. “you really think so?”

bakugou huffs again, although there’s no denying the pink that’s now dusting the high points of his cheeks. “you really ought to give yourself more credit.”

now it’s your turn to study him silently.

“no need,” you eventually quip cheerfully, reaching over the table to take his hand in yours. he doesn’t protest, only letting you intertwine your hands together.

he does, however, toss you a questioning look. one that incredulously says: why?

so you tell him.

“it’s because i like having my boyfriend do it for me.”

a/n. trying out this new format where the author's note comes after the drabble. we'll see if i go back and revert this later anyway lol. anywho, this one's very self ship-coded because i like complimenting strangers. it's my form of exposure therapy for my social anxiety while spreading the kindness i want to share with the world. now all i'm lacking is a boyfriend who hypes me up the same way lol. (0.5k)

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don’t do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i’d love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ˗