#like just admit you think women are entirely different being then huh

[shepherds-of-haven]

How would the ROs rate their own attractiveness? Like do they consider themselves attractive?

Huh, good question!

Blade: he is distantly aware that other people/society in general considers him to be good-looking in some capacity. (By Ket standards, he and Gladius both are considered to be blessed with markedly good looks, but almost in a 'pretty boy' kind of way. Gladius is considered like stunningly beautiful while Blade has more of 'effortlessly hot' aura). So he would say other people probably think he's "above-average" in looks (but he also believes it to be more of a muscularity/strength thing than things like his facial features. Like women, if they do find him attractive, probably think so because he looks like a strong provider LMAO). But he himself doesn't think about his own attractiveness or appearance beyond what good hygiene and proper presentation dictate... he hardly spares himself a glance in the mirror most days. As you can tell by his haircut choices

Trouble: he considers himself to be average in looks, neither particularly handsome or particularly ugly, just exactly in the middle of the road! If asked to describe his own attractiveness in more detail, he'd probably say something like, "I clean up okay. I'm a decent-looking working-class guy? *shrug* I don't think anyone would be mad if I showed up at their doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, but artists aren't swooning over my cheekbones, either"

Tallys: Tallys considers herself to be a good-looking woman, probably an 8 if we're using a scale, a 9 if she put more effort into being conventionally beautiful (doing things like growing out her hair (!), using makeup or perfume, dressing well, etc.). She's confident in her own attractiveness and doesn't find much fault with her own features or body, but she also knows that doesn't mean she's everyone's specific cup of tea, either! She just believes that, according to a general standard, she rates highly in most areas, and no one could sincerely call her ugly. It helps that she's an Elf, since most of them have a high standard of confidence when it comes to their natural beauty!

Shery: before she joined the Shepherds, she believed herself to be average or below-average, and believed herself to be "mousy": hiding behind her bangs and spectacles was not something she ever saw conventionally beautiful people doing, so she grew up thinking she was forgettable or unremarkable, though not necessarily ugly or outright unattractive. Just sort of "plain." However, since joining and noticing that there are people who seem to compliment or even crush on her, she's since come to tentatively revise that opinion and thinks she could probably be considered "cute" by some people's standards, but she still thinks that her personality makes it hard for anyone to really notice her or become completely enthralled by her... so she would say she's probably like a 6 or 7 by looks alone, which she's content with!

Riel: as like a work of art or a painting (so judging by pure aesthetics alone, devoid of other considerations), he believes he rates around an 8 just going by the symmetry of his facial features, his taste in clothes, the fact that he's well-groomed, but he's a bit self-conscious of how he rates in terms of desirability or sexual appeal, which is a different thing entirely (in his own mind). Like, you can admit a painting is beautiful, but you don't want to fuck a painting? In those terms, he believes he falls well below the standards of the masculine ideal, probably resting at a 5, though he believes he makes up for it in other areas (wealth, intellect, uniqueness, etc). It doesn't bother him that much, but it is something that he is aware of at the back of his mind!

Chase: He thinks he's pretty good-looking (🙄), but that the effect is best felt and supplemented by his in-person charisma, charm, aura, and general personality. This is an extremely topical/dated example, but it's sort of like how a lot of people were largely indifferent to Glen Powell going strictly by looks alone, but then they saw him acting in Twisters or Top Gun or whatever and saw his chemistry with his co-stars and were suddenly like "oh 😳" Like he needs to be seen in action to really feel attracted to him?? Anyway, Chase thinks that if you were to see a perfect painting of him in a gallery, he's good-looking enough alone to make you stop and admire him, so probably like an 8... but his magnetism in person brings that to a 10 LOL

Red: He "doesn't really think about it" (🙄)--he more spends time grooming and styling himself to his own standards rather than really fretting over what other people would perceive or rate him as, but if you really pressed up, I think he'd say he's an 8 on a good day, potentially a 9 if he were to try very hard, but he'd sort of vaguely look around at everyone else to confirm if this was an arrogant thing for him to say lol, so he's definitely not totally sure about it! There aren't too many things he finds fault with when it comes to his physical appearance or body--he's generally satisfied and content in that department--but he also would never argue he's some great show-stopping beauty or gorgeous model: he just quietly lives with the idea that most people think he's a naturally pretty handsome guy!

Ayla: this is sad, but she probably rates herself a 3, maybe a 4 on a good day. 😕 Ayla thought she dispensed with thinking about her own appearance or attractiveness long ago, having accepted the fact that most people perceived her as this ragged, scrappy loner who mostly lived on the road and was lucky if she could find a stream to wash her hair in. She never possessed a mirror and, the rare times she stayed in a room that had one, she used it to check herself over for hidden injuries or things on her back and then went on her way... and none of this really mattered to her because she spent so much of her time alone. No one was really looking at her, she wasn't looking at herself, so who cared if she looked like a half-drowned rat with her hair growing into her eyes while she shook sand out of her clothes? Since joining the Shepherds, however, her private consciousness of her appearance has naturally increased, and sometimes she can feel quite down about it (especially when faced with the elegant grace of Tallys, the feminine cuteness of Shery, or the show-stopping beauty of Lavinet). Part of being in a group that she avoided was the vulnerability of natural comparison: no one's comparing you to anyone if you stand alone, but with the Shepherds, of course that's going to happen, even if only in her own mind... Anyway, this is a lot to say that she considers herself to be below-average in attractiveness, but is filled with a sullen self-loathing and pride when she considers doing anything to try to change that fact, so she just... resigns herself to feeling that way forever, if that makes any sense!

Briony: she thinks she's cute and can edge over into pretty when she tries really hard, so she'd probably say she hovers between a 6 and a 7 on an average day? While she thinks she has advantages like her striking hair color and eyes, she has areas that she privately feels a bit insecure about: she feels her face is too round, her nose is too short, feels like she's a bit short and compact and boyish in body when she's rather be tall and leggy like Tallys or buxom and curvaceous like Lavinet, etc. etc. It's not something that really bothers her--she figures that everybody feels that way about themselves--so she's happy with being "above-average" on most days. It's only when she's crushing on somebody and isn't sure of how they perceive her that she gets really unsure and self-conscious about it, and then she really obviously throws herself into styling herself to appear more feminine!

Lavinet: don't hate her, but she definitely thinks she's a 10 LOL. This is partly due to the fact that, by Blest beauty standards, she pretty much is a paragon of desirability, and everyone in her life has treated her as if she were a 10 or even outright said so... so there's really no reason for her to think otherwise! There are always small things she would tweak if she gave any thought to it, but in general she's been very happy with her appearance and how she's been able to use it as a tool to accomplish her goals in life!

Halek: he is well aware that he's gorgeous... he wouldn't say this out loud because he knows he'd get endlessly ragged on, but he'd probably say he's a 10 LMAO, maybe 9 so as to give the appearance of some humility... It's not even something he's arrogant about, he's just like aware of general beauty standards and is like 'yeah by no choice of my own and by complete accident of birth, i happen to fit these really well? *shrug*" It's nbd... and it's part of where his bde comes from, I'm sure

[rainia]

i don’t know why dnd podcasters seem to often have this anxiety over playing a character with a different gender to them. Like just play the character as you would any other. but you use a new set of pronouns. It’s like that simple. No you don’t need to put on an exaggerated feminine/masculine voice. no, you don’t need an in depth understanding of psychology. funnily enough, people with different genders to you are still, in fact, just people. go figure I guess

[harvey-guillen]

i had a big brain moment on the way to work

by which i mean i'm once again going to dx one of my comfort characters as having bpd traits

Spike aka William the Bloody (BtVS)

He's messy, he's passionate, he's malleable! He was a shy, rejection-sensitive poet until he became an overly charismatic, rejection-sensitive killer! He thinks love is everything and gives his many lives meaning! But sometimes that love is not love, it's passionate infatuation and involves repeated unwanted pursuit behaviors (aka stalking). His alliances, stances, loyalties, feelings can often change quickly on a dime! He literally took a coat from someone else and made it his whole look and personal signature style (bpd mirroring behavior to an extreme). He was enmeshed with Dru, hot and cold (mostly cold - abusively so) with Harmony, wanted to be enmeshed with Buffy, did get enmeshed with Buffy through an unstable, destructive relationship. He can be myopically focused only on his own needs (granted he IS a vampire) and fail to see others' unless the situation doesn't involve him, then he can see it more clearly than they can (lovers walk). He has weird chemistry with almost EVERYONE (Xander, Angel) because of his superficial charisma!

He splits (quickly vacillating between adoration/idealization and hatred/devaluation) on Buffy in a big way. She's the ideal women, she's the 'bitch' who won't let him take a stationary 'walk' outside her house every night (ie watching/stalking her), she has 'stupid hair', etc. He does this to Dru as well in "Crush" and Harmony on a regular basis (she's his 'baby', she's an 'idiot', she's adorable, she's his punching bag, etc.)

But most notably: he slides into a LOT of different roles in the show. He's villain, lover, hated ally to buffy in s2, annoyance and philosopher in s3, partly neutralized enemy and thanksgiving dinner 'guest' in s4, stalker and sometimes ally in s5, abuser AND abused in s6, serial killer AND redemptive sacrifice in s7 - then ghost turned ally/comedic sidekick turned final battle warrior in Angel S5. Yes, most of this is due to the writers trying to find ways to use James' appeal as an actor throughout the seasons without having to kill off the character, and reportedly it was difficult to integrate him into the plot in a way that felt organic starting in S4. But the end result of this, factoring in James' chameleon-like and committed performances, is that Spike is a LOT of things and slides into these roles with ease even if they don't fully 'fit' him in a way that feels essential to who he is. That's malleability - that's something people with BPD traits can exhibit and even struggle with. Lack of cohesive sense of self -> trying out different roles based on whomever you are drawn to or idealizing -> altering behavior patterns, style, mode of personal expression, etc.

But most convincingly, his entire identity is based on the strength of his emotions and attachments. They take him down so many paths and change him fundamentally as a person. First Dru then Buffy, from being seduced into becoming a great evil to ultimate sacrifice for love and the forces of good. His entire philosophy of life is that it's driven by romantic passion:

“You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love 'til it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other until it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood - blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.”

Listen when I was 14 I was like "huh the excess grandiosity and passionate yet unstable affect and behavior are a vibe here"

And 20 years later I am aggressively tackling my own bpd traits through all the therapy. But was Spike an early awakening of the fact that my emotions run deeper than I'd like? Maybe, maybe not. Still an interesting question.

NOTE: This is just a headcanon/fan analysis using a framework familiar to me. I am NOT seeking to babygirlify or absolve any of his terrible behaviors. I think much of the show is resonant with viewers because many of the characters have a dark arc at some point. Willow is for the perfectionists who hurt themselves and others in their pursuit of avoiding painfully imperfect situations and their own errors. Xander has hero moments but also deep insecurity from his family trauma and a toxic possessiveness of women. Buffy shoulders the weight of the world but finds it hard to express things that torment her internally with those whom she loves. Angelus is the PERFECT metaphor for the cruelty of a first boyfriend who grows cold and abusive after physical intimacy. The show takes us to VERY dark places - and ultimately that is what I take from it, not one relationship, season, or storyline.

[papirouge]

https://www.tumblr.com/researchgate/751723182896054272/funny-how-you-talk-shit-about-al-jazeera-but-then

Example of terfs supporting Israel with the argument of “well Gaza banned abortion” HUH. Also the tags are disgusting “people complain when Jewish people do this but not when Muslims do this” Trump literally banned Muslim immigration, do terfs think Muslims are privileged?

What a weird and ironic connection with terfs and conservatives

Thank you anon but I lowkey resent you bc the ask in the link legit made me lose braincells 💀

"birth control is illegal in Gaza, as is homosexuality"

Saying that "birth control is illegal" is retarded if you don't define what kind of birth control you're talking about. Choosing celibacy or refraining from sex to not get pregnant ARE forms of birth control. Are Palestinian women legally forced to marry/have sex, @/old school butch?? ...oh my bad, you're probably one of those racist uneducated idiots who think of Arab women and immediately thinks they are all forcibly married at 9 y.o.

Also from what leap does she assume not accessing to birth control = female not "owning" their body? This pattern of thinking is a general consensus among radfem and I never understood it. Those women cannot conceptualize women *not* needing fertility control medication to "own" their body.

I assume she's actually talking about medicalized form of birth control, which then reveals in their mind contraception pills/device = birth control = full body autonomy. They admit entirely relying on some medication to own their body. That's VERY ironic because it shows they're not that different from trans identified people (they hate so much) who rely on hormones to be their true self ™️. Apparently women need hormone control medicine to "own" their body 🙃

And same goes with the "homosexuality is illegal" thing. Homosexuality being "legal" doesn't mean gays being safe and vice versa. Palestinians been fighting for DECADES against colonization, deportation and oppression and this sheltered (white?) woman be really like "but what about gay people??? 🥺" ....She's dumber than a door knob.

"bred in captivity to supply martyr for the revolution" this whole sentence reeks fake concern with a sprinkle of whitefem saviorism. Let's make something clear : women like that butch don't care about those women. She's literally projecting some disgusting breeding fantasy scenario from the words of one (1) moid to brush Palestinian women like broodmares deprived from any sense of self to push her dehumanizing agenda against Palestinians.

It would never occur to that white butch that those non white women may actually wanted those big families. Noooo, they are just poor victims of that evil Islamist patriarchy forcing them to pop up the next generation of martyrs!! Also note the typical whitefem eugenicist urge to freak out at the thought of women having 6 children...that would inevitably end up becoming terrorists.... that's why birth control is sooo important to stop them from existing. But yeaaaaah those radfem are totally NOT edging on white supremacy and that's just some stupid TRA conspiracy LMAO

That's why I know OP is White : the whitefem saviorism (homonationalist version) is POPPING out there. Nothing like paternalistic white women distressed at seeing women oversea having lots of children... GOD FORBID non White women have children and reproduce... WITH (SAVAGE NON WHITE) MEN??!!

"this suffering was known and accepted by their leaders" which "leaders"? The Hamas ? That hasn't been voted for for like 10-15 years ? Can't wait ppl start advocate to collectively punish USAmerican voting in war criminals Bush & Obama a few years ago.

What "suffering" is she even talking about?? Who's the actual cause of it, BUTCH?? I ain't no Hamas supporter but the Hamas 1/is not a feminist movement 2/whole point of existence is to defend and free their land. Whining about them not doing enough for women(??) is silly. Someone tell that dummy there won't be Palestinian women to defend if there's no more Palestine..

TL;DR : That butch is the average white woman hiding behind feminist to dismiss entire system of oppression (such as Zionism) that override genders. regardless they're gay, radfem, butch, etc. White feminists are NOT to be trusted when it comes to defend WOC. They will inevitably side with White supremacy and are the dumbest people ever when it comes to geopolitics and womanhood worldwide beside their sheltered western bubble. They should keep seething against TRA to pretend being subversive, and let actual women with a brain talk.

bonus the most stupid tags I seen in a while :

"no one say shit when middle east women suffer" *ME WHEN I LIE*

MIDDLE EAST WOMEN ARE LITERALLY TOKENIZED 24/7 BY WHITE PEOPLE AND FEMINISTS LIKE YOU WITH THE ONLY PURPOSE OF DEMONIZING ARABS AND ISLAM.

"when it's Israeli women their suffering is either denied of justied"

PLEASE TELL FOR WHOM THE #METOOUNLESSYOUREAJEW HASHTAG WAS MADE FOR?? QUICKLY. WHICH ONE BETWEEN PALESTINIAN OR ISRAELI WOMEN HAVE THEIR SEXUAL ABUSE LITERALLY INVISIBILIZED AND DON'T HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF HAVING A HASHTAG DEDICATED TO IT??

*when Arab do this it doesn't matter"

STOP LYING. THE MISTREATMENT OF WOMEN IN THE MIDDLE EAST HAS TO BE THE MOST COVERED ASPECT OF MISOGYNY WORLDWIDE. OTHERWISE HOW WOULD YOU IMMEDIATELY PULL OUT THE "HONOR KILLING" "STONING" ETC. GOTCHA WHENEVER WE TALK ABOUT MAYYYBE NOT GENOCIDING ARABS??? SHUT UUUUUUUUM

Those women made me lose 35% of my braincells BYE AND GOODNIGHT

[nobedofroses]

December 16

pairing: Jack Daniels x reader

warnings: fluff and a little bit of spice at the end

words: 863

a/n: Jack is a sweetie and a cutie

Last, Full List, Next, More Jack

🏔🏔🏔

The first holiday season you had spent with Jack, you weren’t sure he would want to join you at one of your favorite traditions. Every year, you went to see the Rockettes perform at Radio City Music Hall, with whatever friend, or relative’s schedule worked. You had tried inviting past boyfriends, but none of them had ever wanted to go, so when you asked Jack, you were expecting a no as well. But the man constantly surprised you, and this was no different. He agreed enthusiastically, admitting that he had always wanted to go but had never been proactive enough to buy tickets before they sold out. 

Jack ended up taking over the whole plan, promising you an entire day of fun and excess, which you agreed to right away. He was always better at indulging than you were anyway. 

A week out, he told you the plan. 

“Alright, sugar, do you wanna know everywhere we’re goin’ or do you want it to be a surprise?” he asked you, turning his body so his face was up and the back of his head was on your lap instead of the side. The two of you were on the couch, watching a little Christmas movie after dinner. 

You hummed, pausing playing with his hair for a second to think. Jack made a little sound of displeasure, but you ignored him for the moment. You liked surprises, something Jack knew, but you also liked being prepared, something Jack also knew, which was why it was so sweet that he was asking. You decided on a compromise, “Tell me the plan of what we’re doing, but don’t tell me the names of the places we’re going.” 

“Very clever, darlin’, always my smart girl, huh?” he told you and your cheeks flushed with warmth at the praise. Then he reached up and touched your wrist to prompt you to start playing with his hair again. You rolled your eyes fondly but did, knowing he wouldn’t tell you if you didn’t. “First, we’ll take the train to the city in the mornin’ and check in to our fancy hotel—”

“Hotel? Jack, it’s a forty-five minute train ride,” you reminded, thinking a hotel seemed a bit unnecessary.  

“We’re treatin’ ourselves, honey, there is no such thing as ‘too much’,” he said, going as far as to add air quotes. You gestured for him to continue, knowing you couldn’t change his mind. “So we’ll drop our stuff off there and then do some little shoppin’ around, ‘cause you know I still have to get my mama’s present.” 

You nodded, knowing he liked to spoil all of the women in his life. 

“And then, we’ll go back to the hotel with enough time to change and test out the bed to make sure it’s to our likin’ before dinner. If we don’t do that when we first get there, that is,” he told you with a proud little smirk because he knew the two of you would probably end up “testing the bed,” both times, if not more. 

Clearing your throat, you tried not to show how flustered he made you, even nearly a year into your relationship, wanting him to just continue telling you the plan instead. 

Luckily, he did keep talking, and you had a second to breathe. “Then, of course, we’ll have dinner and then head to the show! The hotel is only a few blocks away from Radio City so we won’t have to go far in the cold at night.” 

You smiled and hummed, thankful for all of his planning, “That sounds nice.” 

“Mhmm, and then in the mornin’ we’ll have brunch at a fancy restaurant,” he told you happily. 

“Wait, why brunch instead of breakfast?”

It took a second for Jack to reply because he got the shivers when you ran your nails over the nape of his neck, and he moaned a little bit. “Ahem, so w-we can sleep in if we wanna. And just in case the bed needs more testin’.” 

You laughed and tugged on his hair lightly for his pointless innuendo since you both knew you were going to have a bunch of sex. Jack moaned again and you smiled a bit arrogantly, it took so little from you to get him going. 

“Uh oh, baby, did I pull too hard?” you asked him, all innocence. 

Jack blushed a warm raspberry on his cheeks and shook his head silently. 

“What was that?” you wanted to make him work for it, just a bit. 

“N-no, darlin’, not too hard. You co-uld pull harder, if you wanted to,” he told you, a bit breathlessly. 

You tilted your head in consideration, “Maybe I will, baby. But I think what we really need to do is test this couch, I want to make sure it’s to my liking.” 

Even though both you and Jack knew you were mainly speaking nonsense, you were having fun and Jack would agree to whatever you wanted if it meant you’d pull his hair while he fucked you. 

So he sat up quickly, turning around to face you and start helping you to lie down in his stead, “Yes, ma’am.”

🏔🏔🏔

[spectresbase]

Naughty November Day 11

Collected Tweetfics from the 11th day of my Naughty November project. Themes for this set: Bi-Curiosity - Primal/Rough - Bondage Hope you enjoy the little bites of smut!

It'd started as a game. Now JAlter was pushed to her limits just trying to keep up. She'd unlocked something wild in Jeanne, pushing her 'innocent' counterpart into a primal heat that threatened to scorch her to the core. Screaming, JAlter came again. Jeanne howled with her!

Wrists cuffed to the spreader bar behind her back, Kim knelt on the bed. Clamps teased her nipples and a bullet buzzed between her legs. Once she was set, Ron kissed the top of her head, ran a finger over her clit, then left to watch a movie. She'd be ready when he came back.

It's mating season, and Nidalee's chosen you as her mate. Down on all fours, her back arched impossibly, she throws herself back against you, meeting every thrust with a feral intensity that has you certain one load won't be enough to satiate this kitty. She'll want it all!

Catching Selina and Dick in the midest of the wildest, hardest sex she'd ever seen sent conflicting needs through Babs's head. She wasn't sure which of them she wanted more. So she split the difference. Offering her ass up to Dick, she sucked his cum straight from Selina's cunt!

When her assassination attempt failed, Cheshire found herself right up and personal with Batman, both of them breathing hard. They could've kept fighting... Pinning her to the bed, he drove his hips forward, pounding into her as she bucked up against him, growling for more!

"I'm not so sure about this..." Shikanosuke eyed the dick bouncing inches from his face. "Shouldn't this be a solo class?" "Nah!" Hebiko giggled, kissing Kotarou's head. "I like group lessons!" For somebody hesitant to start, Shikanosuke sucked dick like a pro! With Kelly's fat ass clapping with every thrust, B170 was too caught up in the moment to think about it when Jerome's thick cock slide into his ass. Only later, as cum ran down his cheeks, did he realized he'd just been fucked by a guy. Huh... He looked at Jerome. "Round two?"

Last night had been so wild Asuna hadn't bothered to untie herself after they'd finished. She'd just passed out. When woke she was sore, still tied up, and hungry. Knocking cereal into a dog bowl, she was three bites in before she realized eating like this was making her wet.

"Iigabis me!" A flick of her wrists sent a streamer of ropes shooting from the end of her wand. In seconds, Hermione was bound in intricate knots that displayed as well as restrained. Grinning, she looked at Luna and Ginny. "We doing this hen night right or what?"

She'd had plenty of guys tell her 'she just needed the right dick' but this was the first time Kate actually wanted to try one. Well, not one... Caught between Batwing and Azrael, her body their battlefield, Kate had to admit it was fun. Be better if they had tits though...

When it came time for Ben to perform his husbandry duty to Looma, she would not be content for a simple pump and dump. If he was to bed her, it would be like a warrior, with plenty of aggression and passion. He would breed her properly, or he would break in the attempt!

Accepting the dark side showed Rey the true pleasures of the galaxy. Pleasure she was eager to impart on her new subordinates. Phasma hung from the binders, legs spread. Power licked at her clit, and she moaned into the gag. Moans became screams as Rey took her fully.

It was purely for science. Stephanie had only dated women until now. So had Kevin. So this was new to both of them. They swore it. But if that was true, these two roommates were the two best natural cock suckers you'd ever met! Balls twitching, you came a fifth time.

Being created it was entirely possible his heat cycle had been engineered into Stitch. If it had, Nani was gonna have a long talk with Jamba. Just as soon as she got feeling back in her legs. And as long as she was stuck in bed anyway... She started sucking Stitch hard again.

Adam was a gentle lover, even as the Beast. It was sweet at first. Was... Grabbing his hands, Belle brought them up to her own throat. "Choke me! I want it rough. I want to hurt tomorrow. Fuck, I want to hide bruises when I talk to the girls next week. I. Want. To. FUCK!"

It wasn't just a fat ass the Imperial agent gave Bo-Katan. It was damned sensitive! Every time she got near him, he'd swat her ass and she'd double over fighting back a climax. She was gonna wring his little neck! Just *AH* as soon as she stopped cumming!

[33roda]

Kaeya X Dom!Reader <3

tags: tiddy sucking (m!receiving), butt fingering, (m!receiving), brat taming kinda, gn!reader I think !!

____________________________________

Yet another exhausting Abyss Order attack, finally over with.

It was a quite difficult one at that, having required a whole army of knights at the gates of Mondstadt, so Kaeya invited the team to a drink at Angel's Share, out of all places. Even after all the energy that used up, he's still in the mood for drinks?

Well, that didn't matter anyway, because either way, you would've been forced to go either by Kaeya or by Lisa. You sat quietly next to Kaeya, listening to him chat with the other knights.

"Ah, another success.. Of course, we couldn't have done it without our Honorary Knight here," he chatted, sounding as sarcastic as ever. "You truly are a new storm after all."

He rested his hand on your shoulder while holding up his third glass of sparkling wine of the night, chuckling at how Amber was already tipsy after one sip of beer. Jean held her up, furrowing her eyebrows tightly, looking for where Lisa went. Probably off to flirt with the new naive bartender. Everyone's enjoying their time here while she had to babysit Amber and Lisa?

"Of course, Y/N. It is truly an honor to celebrate this with our new Honorary Knight." she stumbled as she continued holding up Amber and wiping her drool with napkins, her slurring drowned out by the noises in the background. You let out a polite smile, showing your appreciation to everyone on the table.

"Thank you, Grand Master. It was a pleasure working with you today." The table was awkward. Too formal, too stiff, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind it, just smirking and slowly sipping on his wine. You almost started wondering and fantasizing about when it'd be time to leave, but as soon as you thought of that, you felt Kaeya's hand slide off your shoulder and started gently caressing your thighs. Ah, expected. Of course there had to be an ulterior motive to his invitation, not that you minded. Taking advantage of the loud, distracting chatter in the background, he ducked his head next to your ear just enough so you could feel his hot breath against it.

"You sure look bored, Y/N. Quite rude of you to not respect etiquette," he whispered against your ear and chuckled. "I have something more fun for you later. Meet me outside the bar once the rest leave."

Ha. Finally, something interesting this night. You had nothing to lose anyway, so why not entertain his request? his actions motivating you to just get the night over with, you try to be more friendly with Jean to lessen the tenseness in the air, her unaware of the touching and groping exchanged between you and Kaeya underneath the table.

Lisa would never seem to return, and Jean eventually got tired of the Outrider hiccuping and slurring on her words next to her, deciding it was best for everyone to just go home. Exchanging goodbyes to everyone, Kaeya escorted them outside, looking back and shooting you a wink and a smug smile before leaving the tavern. Oh what you'd do to wipe that smug smile off his face, and you'd be sure to do just that tonight. You started packing up your stuff, taking your sweet time with it, thinking about how you're keeping The Cavalry Captain waiting. You can already picture how he'll be squirming and begging to be touched.. What a pretty sight, you thought, as you exit the tavern door to be greeted with silence for a second; then the husky voice of a grumpy-looking Kaeya.

"Took ya long enough, Honorary Knight," he raised an eyebrow, waiting for an excuse or an apology, getting a figurative slap in the face when he got teasing instead.

"Oh, so sorry, Captain, did my touch make you so needy in there you couldn't wait for a few minutes?," you cooed, giving him as much of a smug smile as he was giving you earlier.

"Hm," he scoffed. Resistance? from a new knight like you? that's new. He was known to be irresistible, to both men and women, being all dolled up with his fancy fur and chains. At least he still has you in his hands, he thought.

Thank Barbatos the streets were empty ‒ if anyone saw you leading the Captain to your house in the dead of the night, the rumours would not sound pretty for either of you. But rumours were the least of your concerns, being in your room with Kaeya holding you against the wall and leaning down to whisper in your ear as you twirled his ponytail in your fingers from behind.

"Getting you here was easier than expected, Y/N," he taunted, "I'm starting to think you've wanted this for some time."

"In your dreams," you looked up at him. To be honest, he was a very attractive man - looking down at you with half lidded eyes and that smirk that never seemed to fade. He shot down to kiss you, but it was too early, you thought. He had to earn it. You grabbed his ponytail, forcing him to throw his head back and expose his pretty little neck to you. His eyes going wide as you started tracing circles on his exposed chest - now that was a sight to appreciate. Funny, he's the captain yet his skin felt smooth and silky against your calloused hands.. now you understand why he liked showing it off so bad. Switching hands to grab him by the face, you snickered, "It seems like you've been the one planning this, Sir Kaeya. Actually, how about you let me be your master tonight, hm?"

"You think it's that easy? Insulting of you, Y/N," you raised an eyebrow at the disobedience, even with your hands grabbing his cheeks, his words coming out slurred. Should've expected that from a smug fuck like Kaeya. "Prove yourself to me."

"You really are a brat. Not surprised, honey." you said, letting go of his cheeks and immediately diving into his chest to lick and suck at it, leaving it with red and purple bruises. Sliding your fingers across his wet chest and under his shirt, you flicked his nipple with your thumb before squeezing it, feeling him shudder standing in front of you. "What's wrong? can't handle it? need to lay down?" you didn't even let him finish before shoving him down into the bed, impressing him with your sudden strength. Giggling, you pinned his wrists down next to his head. "Just let me have my fun with those pretty tits of yours." Surprisingly, he didn't complain - instead, he just bit his lip and turned his head to the side, allowing himself to be touched. "Such a good boy, really,"

"Th-this is just a one time thing, Y/N, don't get your hopes up," he stuttered out between little gasps and squirms, "I promise you, I'll be stuffing you full tonigh- ngh!" he choked, feeling you move his shirt to the side and start lapping at his nipple. If he wasn't hard before, he sure as hell is now. Riling him up was easier than expected - although he'd never admit that. You continued nibbling at him, feeling his hardness underneath his pants on your stomach. Poor Kaeya, getting hard just from this?

"Sensitive, are we?" you commented between licks. "No wonder you love showing off your chest so much. Makes me think how you'd like showing the rest of you off?"

"You'd love to see that, huh?" he remained smug.

"Why yes, I would, Captain," you purred. You started unbuckling his belt and stripping him all the way down to his underwear, leaving so much more area for you to lick, kiss, and just ruin. "Such a pillow princess. Are you like this with everyone else?"

"N-no!" he exclaimed, looking insulted. "Just strip me already, Y/N." Honestly, it was pretty funny how he tried to mask his horniness, even with his dick as hard as ever under you, face flushed and breathing heavily.

"I'm not stripping you unless you call me your master. And if you strip yourself," you held up his chin with your fingers, "I'll just leave you here, naked and horny, with no pleasure at all. Your choice, Kaeya."

"Master.. please, please strip me - I need more, anything, please," he sounded like he was about to cry. How adorable, his pride crumbling right before him, all just so he could have your touch..

"Good boy."

You pulled down his tight blue underwear down to his ankles, freeing his oh-so-pretty cock. He was certainly impressive, but unfortunately, his dick would be useless to you tonight. "How pretty," you hummed, tracing every vein with your fingers, feeling every throb. "You want more, don't you? I want to hear you beg for more."

"More, please, I n-need you to touch me master, please," gasping, he tried rutting against your hand, rubbing himself on you, anything - but failing. "I want it so bad,"

Having the Cavalry Captain being your little bitch wasn't so bad after all. Laughing at his little whines and pathetic attempts to get off on your hand, you grabbed him and started pumping gently, watching his reactions in pure amusement. His usually striking eyes shut closed, eyebrows tight, his mouth wide open - it was all a sight to behold. Groans and whimpers filling the room, he continued trying to thrust harder into your hand, chasing his release. But baby, he had no idea the plan was entirely different than he thought.

He really thought it was just a bit of teasing, then you'd make him cum with your hands, or fuck you tight. But you stopped pumping him, leaving him whining and begging for more, a look of pitiful disappointment on his face. It almost made you feel bad.

"It's not gonna be that easy, pretty boy," you slapped his thighs, "legs up for me baby."

"H-huh?" he looked genuinely confused, still in a daze from the sudden disappearance of your hand on his cock. Not letting him waste any time, you lifted his legs all the way up by yourself.

"Can't even take orders?" you smacked his ass, making it jiggle and let out that filthy noise. You were impressed how loud it was, honestly. "What would the other knights think seeing you like this, Kaeya? maybe you want them to hear you get fucked? see you all spread out for your master?" Not even giving him a chance to respond, you shoved your fingers in his mouth, he could only hum little "mmphs" and nods in your direction. "I never knew our Captain would be such a slut," you watched in amusement as he coated your fingers in drool, looking up at you in desperation. "I'll give you exactly what you want." smiling at him, you rubbed your saliva-coated fingers against his hole for a few seconds before shoving a finger in to prep him. He wanted more, evidently, by the way he kept humping down against your finger with hesitant moans.

"Y-You're doing it all wrong," he slipped off your fingers with heavy breaths, "let me show you how it's done, master," You raised an eyebrow, and as soon as you were gonna grab him by his throat and punish him, he spread himself out even further with his hands, looking to get a reaction out of you. It was his first time doing this with someone else, but he's definitely fucked himself in front of a mirror before. Who wouldn't love to watch his body like that, anyway?

Shoving two fingers inside himself, he started looking for his spot, erratically humping the air looking for more stimulation, anything; but the most you'd do is stroke his thighs with a smile on your face, teasing him even further. He was obviously just trying to put on a show for you, make you watch him stretch himself out and look at him make the most erotic faces for you - he'd even make sure the whole of Mondstadt heard him get fucked, as if he wasn't gonna wear your hickeys like an award in front of the other knights tomorrow. Watching him fuck in and out of himself, listening to the filthy noises his ass made; you couldn't help but cross your legs a little. "Do you like it, master?" he whimpered.

"I know what you're doing, prince," you answered, "trying so hard to get more.. such a desperate bitch, don't you think?" he nodded in agreement. "Well, since you've been so good.." turning him over, you pushed his face down into the bed. He was already arching his back for you - his pretty hole all wet and ready to get fucked. "You'll still have to work for it, though," you laughed, hearing him groan in protest into the bed. Gently pushing your digits into him, you ordered, "Fuck yourself on my fingers, Kaeya."

Immediately obeying, he pushed himself back onto your fingers, dick flailing under him, sobbing and begging for you to just fuck him yourself - maybe if he obeyed for a little, you'd finally do it? "Such a good boy. And to think you wanted to fuck me?"

You wouldn't let go until you found his spot, curving your fingers towards his navel, making his legs give out from all the pleasure - the Captain was simply a doll in your hands to play with. Even when his legs gave out, only then would you finally fuck him yourself, his tears staining your bed alongside his cum. Fucking his spot even when your arms got tired, you had to make him cum again. His moans getting more and more high-pitched with every fuck into him, squirming and grinding his ass against you, he finally came again with a throaty moan filling the room. You pulled out of him and gave his ass a quick smack, letting him take his breath before turning over to face you. His cum all over his stomach and chest was a sight to remember, dick twitching, his face blushy and pretty lips open gasping.

Sliding your fingers across his chest, you picked up some of his cum and put it near his mouth, waiting for him to put his tongue out to lick it. He did just that, making eye contact with you, and even holding your wrist in place so he could lick it all up. "Good puppy."

He'll definitely be limping around the other knights tomorrow.. Not that he minded. He'll absolutely be teasing you again at the Knights of Favonious headquarters, anyway.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Seven Drinks

Bucky x f!reader

Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.

Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)

Word Count: 4322

a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!

Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.

Masterlist

"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"

"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.

"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.

The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.

Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"

"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.

You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."

Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.

"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.

"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.

"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"

"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.

"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.

"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.

"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.

--

As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.

"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."

"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.

"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.

"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.

--

Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.

You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.

"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.

"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.

"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.

"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.

"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.

You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"

The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.

-

"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.

"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."

He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.

"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.

-

About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.

"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.

"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.

"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.

"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.

Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.

"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.

Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."

"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.

-

You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.

Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.

You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.

-

"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"

Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.

He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.

"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.

You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.

"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.

"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.

"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.

"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.

Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.

"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"

"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.

"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.

"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.

Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.

You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.

"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."

"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.

"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.

With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.

My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.

I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.

I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."

Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.

"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.

I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.

I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.

I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."

The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.

"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.

My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.

I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.

I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.

I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.

God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."

Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.

"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."

Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.

"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."

Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"

"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.

Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."

"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."

"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.

You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.

You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"

Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.

"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."

"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.

"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."

Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.

"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.

"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.

"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.

"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.

"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.

--

The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.

You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.

"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.

The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.

You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.

"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.

You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.

As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.

"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.

"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.

"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.

"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."

"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.

"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.

"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.

"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.

"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.

"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."

"I love you too."

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Mr. Gallagher and Me

Jim (The Delinquent Season) x Reader

Playlist Chapter 1 Masterlists

Chapter 2

Y/n has a less than friendly run in with a classmate. She and Jim make Valentine's Day plans......as friends.

February Masters courses, as expected, were significantly smaller than the ones she’d pursued during her undergrad, and the entire class had managed to fit in a small lecture hall with a bit of room left to spare. Y/n was sitting up front, as she’d been doing for every class she had since starting school in Ireland, except that day, the teacher’s pet jokes had been rolling in pretty heavily, and it was all because the man teaching the Econometrics II was Jim. Everyone knew she was his TA, and there wasn’t a soul that was willing to let her forget it.

Ordinarily, he wasn’t the type to play favorites, though, anyone from a mile away could see that he had a keen interest in Y/n; most of the time, he chose her to answer questions, and since the semester started, they’d been walking to class together. She’d tried to ignore it though, not read too much into the favor he paid her, mostly because despite their warmth, things were still noticeably different from the way they’d been before winter break, before they’d almost kissed. Jim had started keeping his distance, never touching her unless it was absolutely unavoidable, their conversations always remained strictly professional and Jim had stopped asking her to work late. As much as Y/n didn’t want to admit it, she missed it, all of it, from late night drinks in his office to the anecdotes he used to share about his kids.

During that week’s lecture, while she’d answered most of Jim's questions; quickly doing calculations for the ones that required them and offering quick, simple answers for others, the snide remarks from the couple of women behind her had not gone unnoticed. When he dismissed them, as Y/n had slipped her notebook, pencil and calculator into her handbag, one of the women, Emily, leaned down after packing up her things, “Great job today, hun,” she began sarcastically, “Try not to blow your back out tonight when he rewards you for being such a good girl,” she poked out glossy red lips tauntingly.

Scoffing indifferently, Y/n rolled her eyes as she lifted her head to regard Emily, completely unaffected by the quip, “I guess being a bitch is something you never grow out of, huh?”

Emily huffed, clenching her jaw, speaking through gritted teeth, “Oh, you think I’m a bitch now. You just wait-”

“Ladies,” Jim interjected as he approached them, stopping short a couple feet away, “I hope you don’t mind me interrupting, but I’d like to see Y/n for a minute. It won’t take long-”

“Don’t bother,” Emily shuffled her bag higher up on her shoulder, “We’re done here. Have a real good night, Y/n,” she added with a wink.

Y/n waited with bated breath until Emily was out the door before sighing quietly in relief not even paying mind to her very thinly veiled threat as she turned to regard Jim, still standing nearby. Her breath hitched at the thought of being alone with him and she chewed her lower lip appreciatively, hoping to mask her attraction. He just looked so good like that; two top buttons of his white, untucked dress shirt undone and hands slipped into the pockets of his slacks. “You wanted to see me,” she breathed, eyes wide with intrigue.

Jim shrugged, “Not really- I mean, I don’t not….want to see you,” he took a moment to sort his thoughts, shaking off his very confusing sentence, “Nevermind that, er,” Jim chuckled softly, “I heard Emily giving you a hard time, I just wanted to help.”

“Oh,” Y/n noted softly, casting her head down as warmth rushed to her face, “That’s um….”

“If I overstepped-”

“You didn’t,” she cut him off with haste, “Thank you. She’s…..” Y/n trailed off, shrugging and they started walking towards the desk, where Jim had been packing up his things; laptop, a few pages of lecture notes and the remote for the projector.

Slipping the sleek laptop into his bag, Jim finished for her with a grumble, “A fuckin’ piece of work.”

Y/n hummed, neatening the papers before handing them over and then reaching for the remote so she could turn off the projector, “Yeah,” she licked her lips nervously, “Did you….maybe hear anything that she said?”

Jim shook his shoulders, not looking her way as he continued casually, “Not really, but where Emily’s concerned its probably nothing but trouble. She did her undergrad here, I taught a few of those classes and,” he whistled lowly, “She isn’t really a walk in the park. I think she came onto me?” He explained, sounding like he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself and Y/n appraised his words with raised brows;

So that was Emily's problem, jealousy.

Allowing her jaw to hang slack for a minute, she scoffed with intrigue and when Jim didn’t add anything else, she prompted, “Well did you......you know?”

Jim furrowed his brow, emitting a sound of disbelief, “Did you not hear the part where I said she was a piece of work?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head, “Besides if I was gonna break the fraternization rules it wouldn’t be with her, it would be with someone like…..”

Catching himself, Jim dismissed the thought and shook his head again. “Someone like….?” Y/n pressed, holding her breath and hoping for something that probably wouldn't have come.

Something that didn’t come.

“Doesn’t matter,” he waved off her question, gathering his bag and then waiting for Y/n as she collected hers. They lapsed into comfortable silence as they strolled out of the room, and Y/n, left deflated by Jim’s dismissal, let her heart sink a little. She didn’t know why she'd gotten her hopes up anyway; it wasn’t like helping her out back there meant he’d suddenly changed his mind.

Though, when Jim touched her back absently as she stepped out of the lecture hall before him, she thought that maybe all wasn’t lost.

The walk back the department building was spent mostly without words, with only the occasional comment about class or work being traded, and so, when Jim asked her what she was doing for Valentine’s day, she was a little more than surprised, “Nothing, actually,” Y/n laughed sheepishly, in spite of Elaine pushing her to go out and meet people, maybe even find someone to spend Valentine's week with, Y/n had firmly resisted, opting to stay at her apartment working on her research when she wasn’t working or running errands. “Elaine is working, so I’m going to stay at home, watch crappy movies and drink wine…straight from the bottle probably.”

Loudly, Jim laughed, and before he could respond, Y/n added, “You?”

“Same thing probably, but with a game and beer,” he joked, “My kids have this dance at school and I’m well…..you know.”

“Yeah,” Y/n worried on her lower lip, a habit she could never seem to kick. They were just stepping into the elevator and Jim had pressed the button for the fourth floor, replacing his hand in his pocket as she finally mustered up the courage to suggest, “Do you wanna do something with me? On Valentine’s Day?” That was what Elaine had meant when she’d told her to make friends right?

Jim cleared his throat and just then, the elevator opened with a soft ding followed by a woosh as the doors slid open. God, he was gonna turn her down, it was all she could think of and honestly? Y/n couldn’t blame him. Why would he risk his career for a woman he’d known for a handful of months? Why would he break so many rules for someone who was probably going to leave in just over a year?

“What do you have in mind?” Was his question instead, much to Y/n’s surprise.

She didn’t have anything in mind, she didn’t even think she’d get that far. Hell, she didn’t even know where she was expecting that to go. In her head, he'd said 'no'. “Maybe a pub? There’s a pretty nice one near my building…..I think.”

They were safely in the security of his office when Jim laughed, “Tell you what, I’ll find something and pick you up on Friday night?”

“Yeah, okay,” she nodded, “Sounds great. So we’ll go together- as friends,” Y/n corrected, not wanting to scare Jim off with her wording.

Though she could have sworn his smile faltered, “Right, okay,” Jim shuffled away, slipping behind his desk, “As friends,” he confirmed.

Yeah, sure, Valentine’s day as friends always worked. Almost always.

Valentine’s Day She’d probably tried on everything that she considered ‘nice’ in her closet, from what she’d remembered buried at the back to new things she’d bought over winter break. Everything. Yet, nothing seemed right and while Y/n had convinced herself that it was simply because it wasn't a date and she was just scared about accidentally overdressing, deep down, she knew it was actually because she wanted Jim to see her and be impressed. Even if they’d agreed to go out as friends- and just friends- she wanted him to feel for her what she felt for him, because at least if he did, she’d know that somewhere, in some universe, it might have worked out.

By the time Y/n had pulled off the last outfit she’d tried on; blue wash ripped jeans and a silk blouse, she was exasperated and strapped for time. It was almost six thirty and Jim was supposed to be coming by her apartment at seven. “Maybe I should cancel,” Y/n suggested on a whim, glancing at her phone, propped up against some pillows on her neatly made bed.

Naturally, she’d video called Elaine, who’d stolen away to a supply closet in the hospital for an extended break, while getting ready for her not-date with Jim, a testament to how seriously she’d taken the whole thing. Which, to her at least, was crazy because Y/n was pretty sure he’d only agreed to go with her out of sheer politeness. He really was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. “You cannot cancel half an hour before he comes by your apartment? That’s like…..A grade asshole. You are not an asshole.”

Y/n sighed, repeating softly, “I am not an asshole.” Even if Jim had only signed onto to her shenanigans because he was a great guy, it would have been cruel to ask him to pencil her into the probably busy schedule only to say ‘nevermind’ at the eleventh hour. “Right, I’m just…an idiot who asked her boss, and teacher, out on Valentine’s Day and then realized she had nothing to wear.”

Elaine hummed, contemplating Y/n’s dilemma for a moment. After a couple of minutes spent with her in silence and Y/n rummaging through the small mountain of clothing that had gathered at the foot of her bed, Elaine spoke up, “Do you still have that blue dress? Like, did you take it with you?”

Shuffling into the camera’s view again, Y/n knitted her brows, “What blue dress?” She feigned confusion, hoping her friend wasn’t about to go there.

“You know what blue dress,” Elaine warned, “Get the dress, and wear the dress.”

“What?” Y/n scuffed incredulously, “That’s my date dress, this isn’t a date.”

“You’re going out on Valentine’s day-”

“As friends,” she emphasized pointedly.

Elaine huffed, “Please, when you asked him out, were you really thinking about being just his friend?” In response, Y/n simply stuttered, knowing all too well that she’d only added that part because she didn’t want to seem like she was coming onto him; they’d just steered away from a conversation about how he wouldn’t have jeopardized his career over something as frivolous as an entanglement with a student, the last thing Y/n had wanted was to be insensitive to that. “Exactly,” even through the phone, the triumphant glint in Elaine’s hazel gaze was hard to miss. “You’re wearing the dress, that is not up for debate.”

“Ugh, fine,” Y/n bemoaned, dragging herself over the now half unpacked closet, shifting some things around until she was pulling out a simple, sapphire toned, A-line dress with a shallow ‘v’ and spaghetti straps. Grumbling something about how if she was embarrassed, she’d blame Elaine, Y/n nudged the dress off the wire-framed hanger and stepped into it, pulling up the zipper at the side. She really did look good in it, that was something she’d admit even in moments of self deprecation; the dress, on its own, gave off an air of plainness, but it certainly adhered to the notion that sometimes, less was more. There was a slit in the hem that fell just above her knees, with a bit of paler blue chiffon peeking out from under it, while embellishments on the bodice extended only as fair as two straight darts.

“So, what do you think?” Y/n cringed, stepping in front of the camera.

Elaine appraised her in silence while drawing in a mouthful of coffee from a disposable cup, “Mmm, hot!” She beamed, “He’s gonna love it. Definitely gonna jack off tonight.”

“El!” Y/n scolded.

“Well he won’t have to if you-”

“I’m not fucking him,” Y/n warned pointedly, “We’re-”

“Going out as friends,” Elaine bemoaned, exasperated, gesturing with her cup, “I know. But friends can fuck too,” again, Y/n opened her mouth to say something, but her friend cut her off, “But you’re not gonna, you’re gonna make him suffer.”

“He’s not even into me,” she carried on with getting ready, getting out a pair of white flats from the floor of her closet, clumsily slipping into them without sitting before shuffling over to the full length mirror to check her make-up and finish styling her hair. Strapped for time, she completed everything haphazardly, barely having a minute to touch up her nude lipstick before she heard the buzzing of the intercom signaling that there was a guest downstairs.

“He’s here,” satisfied with her reflection, and with nerves bundled in her center, Y/n grabbed her phone off the bed, she hurried towards the front door, offering Elaine a water-down goodbye as she pushed the gray button near the familiar speaker, “You can come up,” she invited, “I’m almost ready.”

“Great, great,” Jim chuckled, adding that he’d be up in a few minutes after she’d pressed another button that would unlock the glass door at the building’s main entrance.

She was just transferring a couple essentials from a larger handbag to a smaller purse with a gold chain strap when she heard the knocking at the front door. On intentionally slowed steps and after a series of deep, calming breaths, Y/n made her way over to the front door, undid the lock and pulled it open. “Hi,” she greeted nervously at the sight of him, dressed handsomely in jeans and a light sweater with a navy blazer completing the look. She’d never admit it, but in that moment, she was grateful that Elaine had talked her into wearing the date dress. “Uh, come in, I’ll just get my coat.”

“No problem,” Jim smiled tightly, stuffing one hand into his pocket, “Oh!” He stopped her as she headed back towards her bedroom, “These are for you,” he offered her the bouquet he’d brought with him, a gorgeous arrangement of red and pink roses, with pale pink lilies and daisies peppered in between, all held together by silk and ribbon lace. “I didn’t know what you like,” he admitted sheepishly, “So I just…chose the prettiest ones and asked the florist to put them together.”

Stunned, Y/n regarded the bouquet with a soft, breathless smile and wide eyes. “Oh, they’re so beautiful, but you didn’t have to,” she blushed. Flowers made it feel like a date, and while she knew that it wasn’t one, his sweet gesture encouraged her mind to go a little wild.

“Come on,” Jim chortled quietly as Y/n relieved him of the flowers, “It’s Valentine's day, somebody ought to buy you flowers.”

Huffing a chuckle, Y/n tipped the bouquet up to her nose, allowing the fragrance of roses to tickle her senses. “Thank you,” she hummed, hoping to hide the warmth in her cheeks, “They really are gorgeous,” she bit her lip, taking a cautious step forward to press kiss to his cheek, his skin warm under her lips, “And you got it right,” she murmured when their faces were still close, “Daisies are my favorite.”

They lingered like that for a moment more, before Y/n shook off the moment and drew away, anxious words tumbling out of her mouth in a hurry, worried that she’d made things awkward, “I’m just gonna put these in water. And then get my coat,” she added hastily, leaving Jim stood in her living room and stepping through the single doorway that led to her tiny kitchen.

“Your place is nice,” he commented casually from the other room, just as Y/n went through a couple cupboards in search of a vase.

“Thanks,” finding a stylish ceramic one in a cabinet under the counter, she filled it up with water and put the flowers in them, gently picking at the petals to prim the arrangement in an attempt to settle it in its new home. “The rent is a gift from my parents,” she noted quietly, emerging from the kitchen to set the vase on the coffee table.

“This them?” Jim was looking at a frame photo on the mantel, one from a birthday party just before she left for Ireland.

“Yeah,” Y/n collected her purse and just when she was about to swipe her camel coat off the arm of a single sofa, Jim turned and picked it up instead, holding it open for her. He hadn’t done that since the night they’d gotten dinner together at the diner near campus.

She thought about that night sometimes. What it would have been like if Elaine hadn’t called; would he have stopped them? Would she have invited him up to her apartment? Or would things be the same as they were right then?

“Thanks,” she smiled upon pulling away, holding Jim’s gaze for a moment more before inhaling sharply and suggesting that they leave. “So where are we going?” She asked awkwardly as she locked the front door.

“Er...…its so silly,” Jim chuckled, and when Y/n glanced at him, she thought he looked cute like that; wide, shy grin, fingers laced in the back of his hair and bright cheeks cast down at the floor, “There’s this place, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it,” he licked his lips, rambling on as they strolled towards the elevator up ahead, at the end of the carpeted hall, “The Whiskey Museum, they do tours and stuff and tonight they’re doing this um…its like a blending session. There’s an instructor and you can blend your own whiskey,” he chuckled nervously, quickly adding as they entered the elevator and Y/n hit the button for the first floor, “If that’s not your thing-”

“Are you kidding me?” Y/n scoffed, “That sounds pretty cool. I’ve never done anything like that. But I am pretty good at drinking whisky,” she giggled and within seconds of them being alone in the elevator, just when she was starting to enjoy having him to herself, the doors slid open and he gestured for her to exit first, his fingers barely grazing the center if her back as he led them out.

It was starting to feel like it had back then again. Before she’d flown back home and before Jim had put some platonic distance between them. Still, Y/n urged herself to hold what he’d said earlier that week in mind; he wasn’t interested in breaking the rules like that. And of course he wasn’t, and she wasn’t there to jeopardize his career or her education either. There were hundreds of men in Ireland, and over three billion in the whole world, surely she could date one of those instead, it would definitely come with far less consequences.

“Have you ever done it?” With his light touch steady on her back, the gentle warmth of his palm permeating the fabric of her coat and dress, Jim led her to his navy Honda, disengaging the alarm as they approached. Just as he opened the front passenger door for her, Jim noted that he hadn’t and with a faint grin, laced with a teasing glimmer, Y/n returned, “Well if we can drink it, we can blend it. Can’t be that hard, right?”

“This is way harder than it looks,” Y/n cringed, using a brown, paper napkin to dab her pale, pink lips, careful to not disrupt her lipstick. Jim couldn’t count how many times he’d glanced at her lips that night and wished he could just lean in and kiss her. But Y/n had asked him out in a platonic capacity and he didn’t want to cross any boundaries, friendly or professional, especially after she’d completely ignored his deliberately vague comment about breaking the fraternization rules.

He’d break them for her, that was what he’d been trying to get at, but she’d completely missed it- or ignored it- and Jim wasn’t willing to test the waters and find out which it was.

“Its not that bad,” he hid his cringe with the sip of the god-awful concoction they’d recently blended; a mix of Bushmill 10, Lockes 8 and Teeling 24. Even as Jim drew in a cautious sip, he struggled to hide his distaste and almost couldn’t bear to swallow their collaborated disaster. Naturally, the instructor at the front of the room, had been offering his esteemed guidance, but somewhere along the line, after slipping into casual conversation about her life back at San Francisco and how he’d gotten to teaching at the university- he hadn’t told her everything though, just the bits that were weighted more on his professional life- they’d stopped paying attention.

“You’re right,” Y/n giggled, eyes shining as she met his, about to water from the combinations of the alcohol’s strength and its outright horridity, “Its much, much worse. Thank God we only did a little.”

“Yeah,” Jim reached for his glass of water, trying to get the taste out of his mouth before they moved on, “Maybe we’ll listen to him from now on, yeah?” He gestured to the instructor at the front of the room.

With a soft laugh, Y/n nodded, the gesture acted as her only response, and as she did, Jim let his eyes linger on her. She had to have known how infallibly stunning she was, right? Y/n never acted like she did. She also seemed completely oblivious to the effect she had on him, it was like she couldn’t see the heat that he’d feel rise to his face when she dealt him a compliment, or hear the catch in his breath when she absently touched his hand. If he had to be completely honest, under her gaze, Jim felt a little invisible, like she wasn’t quite seeing him.

But he saw her, he always saw her.

He wanted to say that at some point, later on in the night, when they’d finally gotten their mixology right and the liquor had loosened them up a little. She’d let something slip about her ex, he’d critiqued the way she dressed once, told her that she was as plain as wallpaper. Jim could have seen the masked pain behind her words and in that very moment, he wanted to tell Y/n; tell her that she wasn’t wallpaper, not to him. To him, she was color, a painting to be studied and appreciated but never understood. The most beautiful things, he wanted to add to those words unsaid, were never understood.

“What?” Her words intruded on his thoughts and Jim snapped out of his self-induced trance.

Jim shook his head, “Nothing’s, it’s just….I hope you don’t believe a thing he’s said to you. Cause it isn’t true, none of it,” he added, shaking his head again.

“Thank you,” she ducked her head. They’d seemed to make a habit of straying from whatever the instructor was saying, lapsing into their own conversation. “Its just hard, you know? When you hear something enough, you start to believe it. When you trust someone enough you just…..” Y/n shrugged, taking a sip of her instead of finishing her sentence.

“I wish I understood, like really understood what that must have been like.” Wishing he cold off her the comfort of affinity, Jim scoffed quietly, realizing that in all his years, and for all the bad things he’d done, he’d never had to experience the kind of mental havoc that a person like her ex could wreck. In that moment, Jim also realized that he must have never experienced it only because he was the one inflicting the pain. Cheating on his wife, ripping his family apart, keeping secrets from Yvonne about her husband. Perhaps he’d never been that hurt because he was the one hurting everyone else. “Truth is I don’t. I think I’ve hurt people like that though,” he admitted, letting the words slip by before he could bury them down.

Y/n knitted her brows, “What do you mean?” The class must have been near over, because everyone was starting to pour their creations into the bottles provided, and vaguely aware of what was happening around them. Y/n started doing the same, gaze flickering between meeting his and checking to ensure she wasn't making a mess.

Jim gnawed on his lip, shaking his head, “Before my divorce I uh,” he chortled dryly, “I had an affair…with my wife’s best friend.”

Right before him, Jim could see Y/n’s perception of him changing and his heart dropped; any chance he’d had with her had just been blown. “Oh,” she sucked in a sharp breath, “Did you ever tell her?”

“It’s why we’re divorced. But she doesn’t know who it was with though. Telling her that….”

“I get that,” Y/n was quiet for a moment, tightening the cap on the glass bottle, “You know, sometimes I wish I’d cheated on him. Which is stupid….I just figured if I did, he’d leave me and I wouldn’t have to….” Trailing off, she exhaled, embarrassed.

“Leave,” her logic, by a long shot, seemed a bit nonsensical. But Jim did see her reasoning. Getting out of a relationship with someone so manipulative must have been tough. “You thought he’d leave you if you did?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” she sniffled, “Which is stupid. You can’t fix a mistake with a mistake,” she said brashly, and Jim tried to not let the words sting. They weren’t directed at him, he firmly reminded himself, she barely knew a thing of his history, surely she wasn’t making such a concrete assessment on him.

“Its not stupid,” Jim reached out and took her hand, giving her soft fingers and affectionate squeeze, feeling the coolness of the wooden table under his wrist, “Why didn’t you do it?” It must have been an odd question, it felt like a strange inquiry.

“I chickened out. I got as far as…meeting with this guy from Tinder for coffee. We talked about hooking up and everything,” she shook her head, and around them, the other pairs and groups from the class started to scatter, some leaving with their bottles while others stayed back, chatting over drinks. The soft shuffle of footsteps on the terrazzo floor swelled around them, and from somewhere off at the left and right sides of the room, music started wafting from the speakers. Staff gathered behind the bar and it wasn’t long before the rustic area had taken on the atmosphere of an intimate pub.

“I was too much of a coward to go through with it,” Y/n finally finished, “And then I was so much of a coward that I broke up with him and fled the country,” she jested self deprecatingly.

“That wasn't cowardice,” Jim admonished, stepping closer as the chatter grew louder, “That was pretty fucking brave. You’re getting a degree that he told you was worthless, you’re gonna do amazing things, without him. After he tried to convince you that you couldn't. That doesn’t make you a coward,” he glanced down at their feet shamefully, “What I did, cheating on my wife because I was bored in our marriage, instead of working on it, that was being a coward.”

“That does not make you a coward,” Y/n was the one who stepped closer that time, the proximity turning far too intimate to be friendly, “It makes you human. You made a mistake, Jim, and….you faced the consequences. What matters now is….what you do when you get a second chance.”

Swallowing thickly, he spared a moment to look towards their hands before allowing his gaze to flicker to her lips, still so invitingly kissable, “You believe in second chances?”

The music must have grown a little louder, or many it was the menial chatter trying to intrude on their moment, but Jim hardly caught her next words, resorting to reading her lips when she said, “Of course, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, knowing she probably couldn't have heard him,”But I’d like to.”

Y/n hummed, he was sure of it, and by the time she was speaking again, he could smell the whiskey on her breath and the perfume clinging to her skin, a woeful combination that he couldn’t help but crave. Unwittingly, his eyes fell, roaming upwards appreciatively; her dress was a simple blue one, but it easily hugged her curves perfectly, celebrating them stunningly, while the skirt boasted her legs and Jim couldn't help but be affected by the sight. “I don’t think I’ve told you, but you look beautiful tonight.”

Even in the dimness of the mood lighting, Jim swore he could see the heat warm her skin as she assumed a private, shy smile. “Thank you,” she breathed, reaching out with her free hand to grasp his forearm, “Can I tell you something?” She blushed.

“What?” Jim prompted.

“I wore this dress cause I wanted you to think that,” her breath hitched in an embarrassed chuckle, “I can’t believe I just said that, I-”

“I’ve always thought it,” Jim blurted out softly, and by then, their surroundings had faded, tuning into nothing more than white, and occasionally disruptive, noise in the background.

Her soiree brightened at his admission and Y/n suddenly prompted, “Do you wanna take me home….and then not leave?” She licked her lips, searching his eyes for an answer.

Hope spilt out of her dilated pupils and when Jim looked into her eyes that evening, for the first time, he thought he saw in them what he’d been hoping to for months; his feelings reflected in them. Leaning forward, he did what he’d been thinking off all night; captured her lips with his. Y/n responded almost instantly, moving her hand off his wrist to clutch a fistful of his sweater when Jim let his settle in the curve of her waist. On the table, they laced their fingers, palm to palm, the closeness of their chests reflected in their joined hands.

She tasted like lipstick, barley and vanilla, an amorously saccharine combination that Jim hoped he’d remember forever, and when they broke, he missed it immediately and it was only to say, “My place is closer,” before swiping the bottle off the table, keeping her hand locked in his while leading her to his car.

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Seven)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Words: 4,498

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

*********

Throughout the entire night, you couldn’t help but think about Cillian. You dreamed about the kiss you shared, the touch of his hands on your face and even the scent of his skin.

You knew you shouldn’t think this way about your best friend’s father but it was something you couldn’t control even though you were angry with him.

But there was one person you who you were even more angry with and this was Connor, the man you were actually dating.

You got up early that morning to confront Connor about his behaviour at the art gallery opening and the truth was that you were pretty much done with him. You never had feelings for him in the first place and the truth was that he had simply become a distraction for you. You wanted to distract yourself from having taken a liking in your best friend’s father which, in itself, you knew was wrong.

Connor embarrassed you in front of your friends and Cillian was right when he said that he was acting controlling, even though you didn’t want to hear it, especially not from him.

You knew you had to end it and you knew that it wasn’t going to be a difficult task for you. You had always been a strong woman and you didn’t want to be with someone like that and, just when you arrived at Connor’s house you took a deep breath and did what had to be done.

‘It’s your loss Y/N’ were his words when you eventually left his house after a ten minute conversation but you didn’t feel like you had lost anything. In fact, you’ve gained something and that was experience in standing up for yourself.

***

Just after you encounter with Connor that morning, you went to have breakfast with Denise and her friends at the G Hotel in Galway.

They were all staying at the five-star hotel, courtesy of Denise’s father who had organised the weekend for Denise for her birthday and as a reward for her achievements after she had worked so hard on her project.

‘Happy Birthday’ you said as you greeted her and the others and Denise immediately told you off for being too loud as her head was pounding. It was obvious to you that she was rather hungover from the night the before.

‘You had too much champaign, huh?’ you giggled before handing her the present you had bought for her.

You usually didn’t spend much money on each other for birthdays but, since she was your best friend, you had spent a few hours’ worth in wages and gotten her something meaningful.

She was collecting vintage tea-cups and you had recently found a beautiful Royal Dalton set in a second-hand shop which you knew she would adore.

‘This is absolutely beautiful, thank you so much’ Denise said as she unwrapped it before hugging you gently.

‘You are welcome. I knew you would like it’ you said with a warm smile and, just as you did and sat down next to her, your mobile phone went off.

You received a text message from a number that was unfamiliar to you and when you opened it, you were none the wiser.

‘It was good to see you’ the message said and you were rather confused by it. You had some job interviews recently and wondered whether this was sent by one of the interviewers. Or perhaps someone from university, you wondered?

‘What is it?” Denise asked as she saw the look of confusion on your face when you glanced at your phone.

‘Someone just send me a message saying that it was good to see me’ you chuckled before explaining to her that you didn’t know the number.

‘Maybe it is this guy from university you were talking about a few weeks back? You know, the lecturer in the science department?’ Denise wondered before suggesting to you that you should text back and ask for a name, but you already knew it wouldn’t be him. There was no way he would have your number and you certainly were no longer interested in getting to know him after you had found out that he was married.

You texted back to the unknown number, enquiring who this was and, within a couple of seconds, your phone went off again and you almost choked on your coffee.

‘Cillian’ the message read and you quickly changed the angle of your phone so that Denise wouldn’t see it.

‘And? Who is it?’ she asked while trying to look at your phone.

‘Uhm…just a guy I met a few weeks ago…I ran into him again yesterday morning and I totally forgot about it…’ you stammered quickly but Denise didn’t buy a word you were saying.

‘You forgot?’ she giggled, winking at you as she did and your cheeks blushed almost instantly. ‘Well, he obviously didn’t and you must have given him your number for a reason. Is he hot? What’s he like? I need to know everything…’ she went on to say as, suddenly, without you haven’t sent anything back to Cillian, you received yet another text message from him.

‘For what its’s worth, you looked beautiful’ the next text read and you couldn’t help but smile as you continued to sip on your cup of coffee and Denise most certainly noticed the look on your face and asked you what he said.

‘Just that I looked nice’ you stammered, feeling awful about lying to her about who texted you but there was no way that you could have told her that it was, in fact, her father who you were texting with.

‘Uh, he likes you’ Denise then giggled before carrying on. ‘Well, since you ditched Connor now, you should go and meet up with him and have some fun. After Connor’s one-off ten-minute performance, I have no doubt that you really need it’ Denise said and, just as she did, the conversation across the breakfast table took a turn. Like so often, it now was all about sex and you realised that dissatisfaction was a common occurrence in women your age.

‘I believe that the whole talk about the female g-spot is load of rubbish. It’s a myth’ Amalie observed eventually after everyone across the table complained about the lovers that they had.

It was at this point that you mentally checked out from the conversation and, whilst you thought about the one pleasurable experience you had in your life when it came to sex, you certainly didn’t want to talk about it in front of Denise. Especially not Denise.

Instead of engaging in talks about vibrators and the male anatomy, you decided to respond to Cillian’s text messages after you had received yet another one, telling you that he was sorry. Clearly, he was desperate to hear from you.

‘I see, you kept my note?’ you responded quickly, ignoring his compliments and apologies, and, just moments after you sent it, you received a response from him.

‘Kept it in my wallet. Can we meet?’ Cillian asked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just before you received yet another message from him which read ‘BTW this is not a booty call. I just want to talk with you. Please.’

His message made you laugh but you agreed to meet him nonetheless.

‘I have an apartment at the Docks. Can you come there?’ Cillian asked in his next text message.  

‘Alright. How does 4 o’clock sound? Text me your address’ you texted back and it wasn’t long until Cillian sent you the address of his apartment.

‘And?’ Denise asked as she watched you text with the mysterious stranger and you simply blushed again and responded with a short and somewhat embarrassed ‘nothing’.

‘Oh common, tell me Y/N. I am your best friend’ she then said and you confirmed that you would quickly meet up with him this afternoon before Denise’s birthday dinner.

‘Oh la la, you are having a date’ Denise then said somewhat excitedly.

‘We are just catching up to talk Denise. It’s not a date’ you then said.

‘Sure…whatever you say Y/N’ she then said sarcastically which is when, finally, she backed off and you received yet another text message from Cillian.

‘Looking forward to see you, xx’ it read and your heart skipped a beat pretty much then and there.

***

After you went home to have a shower and get changed into some nice jeans and a black shirt as well as some nice lingerie (just in case) you made your way to Cillian’s apartment.

You parked around the corner and walked the rest of the way just to be sure that no one would see your car being parked there.

‘Jesus’ you said somewhat surprised when you walked into the lobby of the apartment building and took the elevator to the top floor after Cillian had buzzed you inside. You had never been to a building like this. It was luxurious and right on the harbour.

When you arrived on the top floor, Cillian already waited for you, glancing through the door of his apartment.

‘Wow, these are some good views. Do you own this place?’ you observed as you stepped inside and set your purse on the desk by the door.

‘Yeah, bought it a few years ago’ Cillian said as you began to shrug off your jacket, but Cillian came up from behind you, and caught your hands. You looked down at your hands, noticing that yours dwarfed in his. They were warm and soft.

‘Let me take this for you’ he said like a gentleman and you were somewhat surprised by his gesture. This was not something you were used to but you liked it, a lot.

‘You know, I didn’t expect that you would text me, especially not after last night. So, what is it that you want to talk about?’ you asked nervously and, just as you did, Cillian cut straight to the chase.

‘I wanted to tell you, in person, that I am sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have lectured you about this guy who you are seeing and the truth is that, yes, I was jealous and I know that I had no right to be jealous and for that I am also sorry. I should have acted differently, especially knowing that you are my daughter’s best friend’ he admitted just before you cut him off.

‘Well, for what its worth, I ended it with Connor this morning because I think you were right about him’ you said with a nervous smile, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘I can’t say that I am not happy about that’ he said jokingly before continuing on. ‘But, regardless of this, I think that we need to talk about how we move forward from what happened between us for Denise’s sake’ he then said, causing you to nod.

‘Yeah’ you then said somewhat disappointed before building up your strength in order to say something else. ‘The thing is, Cillian, I know what I want. I just think that you don’t’ you said, cheeks blushing.

‘And what is that you want Y/N?’ Cillian asked curiously as if he didn’t already know the answer to his question.

‘You’ you then admitted and, just as you did, Cillian’s hands caressed your face and he pulled you close and kissed you yet again.

The kiss was slow and passionate and, unlike the night before, you allowed yourself to give into it until, eventually, your lips drifted apart.

‘Are you sure Y/N? Because, I am much older than you and you probably have better offers with more assurances that I simply cannot offer you’ Cillian then asked as he was standing directly in front of you and held you against his body.

‘The fact that you are older actually turns me on’ you admitted before pressing your lips onto his again and then pulling away. You adored his wrinkles and greying hair and you were surprised that he had no idea how attractive he actually was.

‘But what is it that you want Cillian?’ you then asked as you felt his firm chest against you while his warm breath fanned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Honestly, I don’t know Y/N. I have never been so fucking confused in my life’ he explained reluctantly, not knowing where to place the feelings he had built for you. You were over twenty years younger than him and his daughter’s friend and this clearly bothered him. He knew that this wasn’t something he could easily overcome.

‘Well, I am confused too but I like you, a lot’ you admitted, also unsure about what this was that you were feeling for him but, what you knew was that you wanted to give whatever this was a chance. You were curious and you were filled with desire for this man standing there right in front of you.

‘And I need to know that you feel the same and that this isn’t going to be just another mistake you are making because, if you are going to walk away after we have sex, then I am not up for it’ you then explained, wanting to ensure that he wouldn’t pull away from you this time.

‘No more mistakes Y/N. I like you and I want this’ Cillian whispered as he pressed his lips firmly right under your ear, slowly kissing down your neck.

‘I want you’ he then said as his breath tickled your skin and the firmness of his kiss made your stomach flip.

‘Then that’s good enough for me’ you huffed out in a laboured breath and just, as you did, Cillian used his hands to spin you around, causing you to face away from him.

Then, his hands dropped to your waist where his fingers gently edged themselves under the hem of your shirt, barely touching your skin. His lips moved, and he left a trail of kisses down your shoulder and towards your arm.

‘I knew this was a booty call’ you teased as you couldn't help but move against him.

‘Do you want to stop?’ he asked as your hips rocked and shifted while he gently brushed his fingers against your skin.

‘Hell no’ you giggled before you lifted your arms and he began to pull your shirt up.

You felt like you were performing some secret dance that we both knew, but that you'd never realised you'd known.

Cillian lifted your shirt inch at a time up off you, and let it fall to the floor. He sighed in satisfaction as he looked down at your breasts.

‘Why are you so fucking perfect?’ Cillian asked and you opened your mouth to answer but it came out as a sigh as his hands tightened around your waist.

‘Let’s take this off’ Cillian said determined as one of his hands inched up towards your breast, and he squeezed it gently. Then, his hands came away from you, and unsnapped your bra.

You practically shook it off of you, and then dropped your hands to your jeans. You needed his hands back on you again as soon as possible and turned to watch him as you kicked your shoes off and shoved down your jeans, your underwear coming with them.

‘Eager, are we?’ Cillian chuckled as he quickly began to undress himself as well after you had given him a look full of hunger and anticipation.

‘We are short of time’ you said as you were momentarily distracted by the sight of him unbuttoning his shirt, but you hurried to kick off the fabric wrapped around your ankles.

‘We’ve got at least two and a half hours Y/N’ Cillian then said as you finally stood there in front of him completely naked.

‘Exactly’ you chuckled as Cillian was still fighting with the buttons on his shirt, and you grabbed the fabric of it and pulled him against you, crushing your mouth against his.

Cillian made love to your mouth with his lips and his tongue. He was firm, slow, and demanding.

You breathed together, tasted together. He dragged a soft moan from your mouth with a caress of his lips. He explored you, letting his tongue run along the roof of your mouth. Your teeth crashed. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, and your stomach clenched and you let out an embarrassingly desperate sound.

Before your first night with Cillian, you'd never been kissed like this. The kisses you shared were more intimate and more sensual than anything you'd ever experienced in your life.

As you were kissing, you finally managed to unbutton his shirt and shoved it open. Your hands ran up and down his chest, exploring his toned body all the while he was relentless in his kiss. His arms wrapped around you, one hand pressing into the small of your back, and the other working his fingers into your hair.

With a small tug of your hair, he pulled your face away from him.

‘I could kiss you all day Y/N, but you said that we are short of time so you better get onto the bed’ he winked and you snaked your arms around his neck and kissed him while he walked you back into his bedroom and towards the bed.

As you were moving towards the bed, he fought with his belt and his pants all while his lips never left yours.

You shuffled awkwardly backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed, forcing you to sit down. You kept your arms behind you to prop yourself up, smiling as you watched him finish undressing. He was just gorgeous and so goddamn perfect.

‘You are so sexy, you know that?’ you said full of desire while you watched as he pushed his pants down, kicking them off his ankles and standing in front of you completely naked, and... Sweet. Baby. Jesus…your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock.

‘So are you’ he winked and, just as he did, you met his eyes again after having stared at his cock for a little while. That terrifying intense stare was back, and he looked like he was going to eat you alive. For all you knew, he would.

Without breaking eye contact, Cillian bent down and went to his knees at the foot of the bed, grabbed your legs, and pulled you closer to him, spreading your legs wide as he did so.

‘Lay back’ he ordered and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation.

‘What are you going to do to me?’ you asked as he was still staring at you. A slow smile graced his face.

‘I am going to make love to you with my tongue until you cum’ Cillian smirked and the idea of his face between your legs made your breath catch.

‘Oh, Sweet Jesus’ you moaned as he let go of one of your legs and put a hand on your shoulder. He pushed you back and then he lowered his lips to you.

Sweet bliss washed over you in an instant. You gasped, and moaned, and shivered. Cillian lapped at you like you were the sweetest treasure he'd ever put in his mouth. A slow, deep rumble from his chest travelled straight into your body through his lips, shaking you to your core. His tongue dove inside you, exploring you. He sucked on the lips of your sex, and the circled his tongue around your clit, sending powerful shocks of pleasure straight to your centre.

He was building you up to something big. Something beautiful.

He eased off right before you exploded, and you cried out.

‘Cillian, don't stop, please’ you moaned and, just as you began to plead with him, his fingers began to gently run through your wet slit.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t’ he said as he slowly pushed two of his fingers inside you before his tongue resumed its work on your clit.

Curling his fingers slightly upwards, he reached an unfamiliar spot deep inside you and, as soon as he reached this spot, you cried out in pleasure.

‘Oh god, fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as his fingers began to gently thrust in and out of you while he made love to you with his tongue.

With his skilled tongue and fingers working you, it didn’t take you long to reach an orgasm. Your legs began to shake almost violently as a wave of pleasure erupted through your body and your walls tightened around Cillian’s fingers.

When you finally came down from your high, Cillian stood up, pushed his hands against your hips, and slid you farther onto the bed.

‘You sound so fucking sexy when you cum like this, without having to hold back’ Cillian observed as he climbed onto the bed. He crawled towards you like a wolf stalking his prey.

‘I want you inside me, please…I am aching for your cock’ you moaned, spurring him on and, without losing any time he spread your legs wide and pressed the head against your slit, gently working the tip in and out, teasing you.

‘Oh god, please, stop teasing’ you whimpered, trying to wiggle against him. You wanted to feel all of him so badly.

‘Be patient, we will get there’ he whispered, and leaned forward so his arms were on either side of your face.

You felt him push a little deeper into you.

‘Oh god yes’ you gasped and winced and Cillian tilted his head and took your mouth with his, kissing you slowly as he rocked in and out. His lips and his tongue matched the pace of his thrusts, and you felt overwhelmed with desire as he slid deeper and deeper inside of you.

‘Fuck you feel so good Y/N’ Cillian groaned as he stretched you and pushed you until he was all the way in, and he pulled his mouth away from yours just long enough to let out a string of curses before he took your mouth again.

You couldn't breathe. Everything about him was amazing. The way he felt inside you was just perfect.

He held your head firmly in place as he kissed you, thrusting into you and grinding his hips so that he hit every single spot you didn't even know you had. Right as you were nearing your climax, he pulled all the way out and pushed himself off of you, pausing to catch his breath.

‘No…don’t stop…I was so close’ you whimpered.

‘Don’t worry, I am not done with you yet but I do enjoy teasing you’ he gasped and you could tell that he enjoyed edging you which is something no other man you have been with had ever done to you before. Unlike them, Cillian had amazing self-control which you thought might come with age.

Almost an hour later, after he edged you numerous times and made you change positions on several occasions, you ended up with Cillian on top of you once again. He slid back inside you, resuming his relentless pace. With every thrust, he ground his pelvis against your clit, and with only a few careful movements of his hips, you exploded in pleasure around him. There was no way you could have held back any longer as waves of heat and ice crashed onto you, and you fought to breathe through the intensity of your orgasm.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned shortly thereafter, feeling your walls contract around his shaft. He collapsed forward onto you, and you could feel him pulsing inside you and filling you with rope after rope of his warm cum.

You loved the feeling of him cuming inside you and his breath was hot against your neck, and he kissed your neck and your mouth again as he pulled back and out of you, giving you a chance to breathe.

***

‘Cillian’ you whispered, barely able to speak even after five minutes had passed since you came down from your high.

‘Yes Beautiful?’ he said, and moved slightly so he could wrap his lips around your nipple. He sucked and tongued at it, and pulled at it with his teeth.

‘Careful’ you laughed, and shifted under him slightly. ‘I’m super sensitive now’ you said.

‘I certainly hope so’ he murmured. ‘Although, I am not done with you yet. We still have an hour before dinner’ he smirked and your eyes widened immediately.

‘Oh really?’ you asked surprised and, when you looked down on him, you noticed that his cock was already hardening again just after a short five minutes of relaxation.

‘Really’ Cillian then chuckled as he rolled you onto your stomach, spreading your legs and crouching behind you.

Without losing any time, he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed back inside of you, eliciting a loud groan.

After doing you from behind for what felt like forever, he'd hauled you up into his lap and made love to you with his arms around you and our foreheads pressed together. You'd watched his eyes widen and roll back in his head as he came inside you again just after you reached your own high as well.

He then kissed you as he slowly pulled out of you, and then carried you in his arms like a bride into the bathroom where he'd showered you, washed your hair and your body, and treated you to another mind-blowing orgasm with his fingers.

‘I am fucking sore Cillian’ you huffed out as you were standing in front of the mirror and retouched your make up with a white towel wrapped around your body. You had only limited supplies with you in your handbag but were somewhat lucky that Denise had kept a few items in one of the bathrooms in the three-bedroom apartment.

‘I am sorry’ he then said as he stepped behind you and applied some more aftershave before kissing your neck.

‘Are you?’ you asked, looking back at him before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.

‘Not really’ he then smirked before buttoning up his shirt.

You knew that you couldn’t arrive at the dinner together and, after you got ready, you decided to walk to the restaurant first so that Cillian would allow you a ten-minute head start.

But walking was difficult in itself and Cillian had a slight chuckle when he watched you waddle out of his apartment.

Your core was stinging but it was defiantly worth it.

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@peaky-cillian​

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[infernalrevenge]

Hey, Kiss Me? (Don't Mind If I Do)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Daniela is used to being the flirty one, blowing kisses and making a pass at anyone who caught her attention. It just never occurred to her that the tables could turn on her.

Notes: [slams fists on the table] LET ME FLIRT WITH THE CUTE VAMPIRE GIRL. If RE8 had a dating sim spin-off in some alternate universe where Capcom REALLY wanted to capitalize on the game's success, one of my runs would definitely involve romancing the youngest Dimitrescu. For anyone else who feels me on this, this is for you too. I also tried writing this in 2nd person POV for a change. Hope it still turned out alright, it's my first time writing this way. Enjoy!

----------

You had been working for the Duke for quite a while now. He took you in in your time of need and had been made an apprentice of sorts in the art of trading and bargaining.

You've met your fair share of oddities while settled in the village and running errands, including but not limited to: A man who can control metal and electricity on a whim, a talking doll who lives under a waterfall, and the numerous wolf-man hybrids that lurked around the vicinity. They were what most may consider crass company -- at least, that was what the Lady of the castle would say.

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was a frequent customer and a business partner of the Duke's, helping her in the sale of her vintage "wine" to intrigued buyers. This also meant that the two of you were frequent visitors to the castle on the other side of the village proper -- a vast estate that was entirely too large for just four women to occupy (even if one of those women happened to be nine feet tall).

Miss Bela was always the more polite and civil of Dimitrescu's daughters, offering a simple greeting whenever you would come by. When it was appropriate, she was always at her mother's side and paying attention to how meetings between the older adults would proceed, like a student eager to learn from the best. You figured that, as the oldest sibling, she might take over the business someday. You weren't sure exactly how that would happen, given what you knew of the family, but you really shouldn't prod anyway. At least, not now.

Miss Cassandra was more closed off, so to speak. It always seemed like she would barely acknowledge your presence in the castle, talking only when it was necessary and immediately leaving the room once she was allowed to. However, you would feel a prickling in the back of their neck when she wasn't around, like you were being watched from the background -- prey at the mercy of their predator. But every time you turned around, there would be no one there, not even a sound to indicate escape. A part of you thought you might have been pulled into some unwitting game, wondering what would happen if you did catch the perpetrator in the act. You weren't sure you really wanted to find out.

Then, there was Miss Daniela, whose attention seemed to lie in... other prospects. Like Bela, she offered warm greetings whenever you would stop by the property. Unlike her sisters though, who never really bothered with the Duke's apprentice, she always tried to entertain herself with your company. You had a friendly enough rapport with her that you could relax in her presence as well, so it was nice. You figured it was mostly because they rarely ever got outside company, and since the sisters stay in the castle a lot of the time, she always welcomed you with enthusiasm. And a smile. And a wink. And some passing remark about how nicely you dressed that day and that you must have been trying to impress her.

"I could just eat you right up," she would say with a giggle and a playful growl.

You've never been too sure what to make of her -- she always seemed to have her head in the clouds, only coming back down at the behest of her mother or when her sisters were persistent enough. You also never knew how to respond to her flirting apart from flustered silence, which only seemed to spur her on even more. It was like she was just trying to get a reaction from you, making a game of it. It was far different from the one her older sister seemed to be keen on playing, but a game nonetheless -- how far could she push your buttons and make you implode from embarrassment?

Honestly, it seemed to be working.

You had been well-socialized thanks to your training under the Duke, and of course the man himself was charming and likeable so a part of you liked to think it may have rubbed off as he raised you. But that was when it came to formalities and negotiations -- maybe banter, if you could really push it. You've thought about responding earnestly, but flirting was another ball game all on its own, one that you don't really play on purpose, and you frequently found yourself floundering at the face of it. Especially when that face was as pretty as Daniela's.

It wasn't like you thought she liked you that way or anything -- you genuinely thought she said all those things for fun, to amuse herself with how hot you got or how you would sheepishly shrink in on yourself. But you weren't going to deny that she was cute and that you may have just a small crush on her. Just maybe. Not that you would ever admit that out loud.

----------

One winter day, the Duke entrusted you with meeting with Lady Dimitrescu on your own. She was informed of his absence beforehand -- something about attending to Lord Heisenberg's business -- and so you were left to take care of updates. In the meantime, you kept yourself busy in the guest area, perusing the dusty books in shelves that definitely needed some cleaning. It seemed like the castle could never have enough help.

As soon as you were left alone, with only your notepad and thoughts to keep you company, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You slowly looked to the side, eyes trained on a dark corner of the room. The light from the fireplace didn't quite reach that spot, making it quite the hiding place. Was something (or someone) moving from there? Are your eyes playing paranoid tricks on you? Was it Miss Cassandra playing her one-sided game again? Perhaps... you shouldn't interfere then.

You turned your attention back to the book shelf, looking high above you, wanting to take a closer look at the selection. You dragged a stool and a few stacked cushions to the shelves and slipped your shoes off, praying to whoever was out there that Lady Dimitrescu wouldn't find you like this. Oh, the scolding I'd get from Duke about manners -- you'd never hear the end of it. Stepping carefully onto the plush surface -- a few feet from the ground -- and finding your balance, you start to pick something out that had an interesting title.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Y/N," a voice echoed in the room, catching you off guard.

You jumped in surprise and lost your footing, falling backward as the cushions slipped from under you. Oh yeah, this was gonna hurt! But before you could make contact with the hardwood floor, a hand reached out and grabbed you by the waist, catching you in a rather precarious position.

"You could've hurt that cute little ass of yours," the voice cooed. Daniela seemed to have materialized from out of nowhere, wearing a mischievous grin and holding onto you as she practically hovered over you. Oh god, she was so close, you don't know where your body heat ended and hers started.

"Miss Daniela," you greeted, finally finding your voice. "Um, thanks for the save."

She pulled you up to standing on the stool and raised an eyebrow at you, smirking amusedly, "And what exactly were you doing so high up in the shelves? Aren't you supposed to be waiting here like a good little one?"

"I was just... looking at the books," you replied softly, "And falling for you, I suppose," you added as a joke, chuckling as you shook off your nerves from earlier. You were a little surprised she didn't start off with that line honestly, given how easy--

Daniela's smirk dropped at your response, eyes widening as she stiffened. Uh oh... did you say something wrong?

She blinked at you, mouth hanging open slightly as if she was trying to find the words. It looked like she gave up though, just looking away and stepping off the stool. Were you imagining that her cheeks just turned pink?

"Mother's waiting for you at the meeting room," was all she said before quickly making her exit.

It took a while before the wheels in your head started turning again.

----------

The next time you came to the castle with the Duke, it was a warm day in spring. On these occasions, sometimes Lady Dimitrescu would be more open to a different venue of meeting than inside the castle -- "for a change of scenery," as she would say. The two of you met her and her daughters at the main garden at the back of the property, the sun shining generously on all forms of life.

When Daniela spotted you, she seemed almost caught unaware, but she quickly regained composure, throwing a smirk and wink your way -- her usual greeting. You couldn't help but duck down shyly, but nonetheless waved and smiled back.

The older adults took their business elsewhere, leaving you alone with the daughters at the lobby; well, more like a daughter, since Cassandra had already left before you can say another word and Bela had excused herself soon after. It was normal for you to be in the company of the redhead at this point. Not that she seemed to mind.

"Been a while since you've been back here. Betcha missed me, huh?" Daniela said, a charming smile curled on her lips. She stood next to you, seeming intent on leading you on a little walk around. Hey, you'd take any excuse to spend time with her.

You laughed softly, "Quite, Miss Daniela."

"You're still sticking to those formalities, Y/N? Come on, you can drop the 'Miss'." She sidled up closer to you, nudging your side. "You can even skip 'Daniela' altogether and just call me yours."

You unconsciously covered your mouth as you glanced her way -- she was being more straightforward than usual. You don't know if you were just trying to hide the blood rushing to your cheeks or trying to stop yourself from smiling too widely, but seeing the smug look on the other's face, you knew she succeeded yet again in flustering you.

"What's wrong? Did summer come early? You're looking kinda warm," she teased, bending down slightly to your face level. "Then again, you are hot enough for the both of us." Damn, she was too good at this. "You'd give the sun a run for its money, honey."

You took a few moments to collect yourself, standing up straighter and clearing your throat. Your eyes looked up to meet hers, showing a half-smile as you spoke with as smooth of a delivery as you can muster, "I'd always thought you would be the sun's rival, given how easily you brighten up my day."

Daniela nearly tripped when she took another step, only managing to catch herself on a nearby bench.

"Are you--"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, just, uh... stubbed my toe on something. Stupid rock."

There were no rocks on the path you two were walking -- unless one counted the flat rock ground. (It didn't.)

The rest of the day carried on as it normally would -- Daniela distracting you from the uneasy feeling of being watched from a proper walk with her usual demeanor, batting her eyelashes and telling you how she simply must teach you to dance some time. "Maybe then you'll learn to loosen up around me." But in return, you would sometimes reply with your own quips -- "Well I wouldn't be opposed to being closer to you, Miss Daniela." You weren't about to question where this newfound confidence came from; you may as well own it, right?

It was only after that visit, replaying the day in your head like you wanted to remember it for as long as you could, that a realization came to you -- the way her cheeks tinged pink and averted her gaze, how she was rendered speechless whenever you replied in the same way that was usually expected of her...

She's not used to being flirted back to.

Her self-esteem allowed her to accept most straightforward compliments with grace, so flattery did not faze her in the slightest -- but when it came to using disarming words? When charm and wit were used right back at her?

She floundered almost as much as you did.

Suddenly, you weren't just a prop in the game anymore -- you knew how to play it now. You knew uttering such sweet (and occasionally cheesy) phrases could make the youngest Dimitrescu blush harder than a maiden being courted. And by god, did she look adorable when she did.

You kind of understood why she did all that now -- watching someone get flustered and knowing you were the cause of it was fun. It was weirdly thrilling seeing her react like that, but then again you might be confusing that feeling with different kind of fluttering in your chest whenever you were alone with Daniela. Who knows?

One thought lingered at the back of your mind though: How long would it take before one of you broke and asked the other on a real date?

.

.

.

(Cassandra materialized behind Daniela as you bade her farewell for the day. She had been observing the two of you interact for a while, monitoring the redhead's "progress". She knocked her sister out of her faraway thoughts with a smack to the head. "So are you gonna admit you like them yet?"

Daniela seemed almost offended at the insinuation, "I would nev-- I mean how dare-- I don't like-- they're just-- I--"

The brunette only raised an eyebrow.

"They're..." She thought back to you, that cute little smile you wore whenever she tried to flirt with you, and how you suddenly rose to the challenge of using her own tactics against her earlier. It was kind of hot. "Okay, I guess. They're okay. They're fine." Quite fine. "That's all I'm gonna say."

"Suuuure...")

[citrinesparkles]

cat part two.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,052 words. notes: part one here! (edit: part three here!) jason's having a really long night, okay. kids and crooks are one thing. cats are another. warnings: food is sort of discussed?

honestly? he felt a little stupid thinking anything was strange at this point, given the whole 'been dead done that' thing, but even he had to admit that running around cradling a jacket full of too-thin cat felt a little odd.

he'd walked the kids home, hearing the whole way about how clever and sweet cat was and how it liked tuna and chicken but do not give it turkey because it will walk away without eating and their mom said that onion was bad for cats, so none of that either.

when they made it to their apartment building, jordan ran upstairs and gathered up the last of their tuna leftovers in a little plastic baggie, bringing it back with another 'thank you' and a joke about finding a different park. then he'd scooped jazz up and disappeared back inside. jason caught something about sesame street reruns- which, if he was being honest, sounded pretty good right about then.

he took off with cat wrapped up neatly, tucked carefully against his chest.

and it meowed the entire way up to the convenience store three streets over.

it didn't seem to want to stop meowing inside the store, either, immediately catching the attention of the worker behind the counter.

"do you guys carry- uh," he adjusted cat carefully, "cat food?"

her eyes were bouncing between him and the bundle of yelling, and he was really starting to feel the absurdity of the whole situation.

"uh-"

she was interrupted by a particularly indignant meow that made him groan and hold the jacket out to look the cat in the eye.

"what do you want, huh?" he asked tiredly. "i'm doing my best here."

it meowed again.

"is... that your cat?" the cashier asked quietly.

"no." another meow. "but it is my problem."

"o-kay," she stood up and made her way around the counter, giving jason plenty of space as she passed him. "what kind of cat food?"

"the kind that will get this thing to stop screaming at me."

"have you tried, y'know, not calling it 'it' and 'thing'?"

"listen- i've had a long night, okay?" he pulled cat back to his chest- met with yet another meow- and tucked it into one arm, dropping the other hand to dig into his pocket. he emptied it, glancing down at the contents briefly before putting it on the counter. "i've got twenty five bucks and a wendy's coupon, a cat that somehow became my responsibility and just will not shut up, and- as i'm sure you'll be able to relate to, considering your customer service job- a desperate need for a nap that is growing by the second. will you, please, get me whatever cat stuff you can sell me and let me worry about what to call it?"

she leaned back around the endcap, raising her hands in mock surrender. "whatever, bat guy."

"bat guy?" he repeated incredulously.

she nodded at his chest, making him rolled his eyes. "the name's red hood."

she stared at him for a moment, squinting at his head. "that's not a-"

"i know! i know it's not a hood! why does everyone feel the need to point that out tonight! it's- it's symbolic!"

she scoffed, disappearing back down the row of merchandise. "symbolic of what, your childhood dreams of becoming a racecar driver?"

"you'll forgive me for not giving you my whole tragic backstory in the middle of a corner store at three in the morning while cat is still screaming?"

he heard rustling, and the sound of tin hitting tin. "did you just call it cat?"

he took a deep, slow breath and squinted up at the ceiling tiles. "are you really back to giving me shit about it?"

"yeah. that's not a name."

"it's not my cat, so i don't care. besides, you're one to talk- shouldn't you have a nametag on or something?"

"i used to. it got buried somewhere." she reappeared, arms full of cans. "you're so good at names, why don't you come up with something? cashier has a nice ring to it."

"very clever."

she nodded smugly with a barely noticeable eyeroll, turning towards the back room. "i do that sometimes. look, wait here, okay?

"i don't really have time-"

"i gotta get my manager, okay. trust me on this. two minutes, tops."

she was gone before he could respond, ducking into a back room with the cat food.

he reluctantly decided to give her sixty seconds before he just left and hoped the tuna from jordan would be good enough.

she came back with an older woman in tow about forty five seconds in, which was more frustrating than relieving.

he just wanted to be home.

"you were serious," the older woman muttered incredulously, staring at him before zeroing in on the bundle in jason's arms- which meowed immediately, as though it felt her gaze. "this isn't your cat?"

"no. it is not my cat. can i just get my-"

"do you have a litter box?"

oh, duh. "no."

she nodded thoughtfully. "how much did you say you have?"

"twenty five. look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up? i have somewhere to be."

"twenty five," she repeated, leaning over the counter. "alright. run and grab a box and some litter for him, and-" she turned back to him- "are you on foot?"

this was getting ridiculous. "how does that-"

"one of those pool bags, too, the one with the long strap."

it took about five minutes for the two women to pack the bag full of a plastic bin, a box of litter, like twenty cans of food, and three different toys, before passing it- and his money- to him.

"you helped tony up the street last week, didn't you?" the manager grinned at his protests. "call it even."

if the money ended up on the counter anyway, that wasn't any of her business, he figured.

--

"alright, cat," he muttered as he shuffled through the window awkwardly, "we gotta be quiet."

which, obviously, earned a loud meow.

he sighed and slid the window back down with his elbow, balancing cat and the large bag in the other arm.

"so," your sweet, entirely-too-awake, way-too-amused voice called behind him, "your jacket meows now?"

so much for being quiet.

[syndxlla]

More To Love

Part two of the More to Love series

Summary: As you start adapting to Mandalorian culture and life in the palace, you have to start thinking whether or not you’ve made the right decision.

Word Count: 6.2k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Non-Consensual kiss, mentions of loss of pregnancy

Author’s Note: Wow wow wow, the support I’ve gotten for this fic already has been so awesome thank you so much especially to the people who have direct messaged me you’re all so kind I love you guys!!!!

Part One here

“Good-morning, Your Highness.” A Handmaiden said as she pulled open the heavy curtains, letting the bright morning light shine into your elegant room. You softly moan as the sun hits your eyes, and roll onto your side to try and sleep more. “Today you will be having brunch with Her Majesty the Queen and a few members of her court and we have set aside a bit of time for you and The Prince to get to each other this evening before dinner in the library.” Her accent was thick like the Prince’s. You sigh and roll around onto your back, letting your limp hand rest by your face. “I trust you slept well?” She asked as she walked towards your bed, in her hands was a golden tray with a teapot on it.

“Not enough sleep.” You groan, trying not to sound annoyed but failing.

“Would you like to sleep longer, Highness?” She asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You sigh before scooting to sit up in your bed, and she places the tray on the table by the mattress.

“I wasn’t sure what type of tea you liked, so I brought a chamomile, do you have a preference?”

You stop to think for a moment, “Chamomile is fine for today, but do you have any hsuaberry tea?” Hsuberries are native to Corellia, and you could use a little taste of home.

“I’m not sure, but I will check for tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” You nod.

“I’ll return in a half-hour with the other maiden’s to prepare you for the day then?”

“Alright… Miss?” You stop her as she turns to leave. “Do you have a name? What can I call you?”

“Oh… of course, Lady Soniee would be fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for asking.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You smile in return. “Lady Soniee, is my guard outside?” You ask.

“Yes, he returned to his post with my arrival, in the night we have the night guards patrolling so our individual day guards get some time off.” She explains.

“Would you… Would you send him in, please?” You ask.

“Yes, Highness. Is there anything else you would like?” Soniee asks.

“No, that’s all, thank you, dismissed.” You released her from her duty and she turned to leave the room. As her back was turned to you, you rub a bit of the sleep out of your eyes and run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame your bed head. You wanted to look presentable for the knight. Truthfully, you haven’t quit thinking about him since last night’s endeavor. You fell asleep picturing what he looked like under his armor, and brainstorming what his name might be. You even wondered if you dreamed about him, but it’s all gotten hazy now. You knew this was inappropriate, and that you were here for your wedding with another man, but something about the secret relationship the two of you were forming was exciting, you were addicted to it. You sigh deeply as she closes the door behind her and then quickly looks down at your nightgown, proceeding to pull the cap sleeves down your shoulders a bit to show more skin and more of your collar. You laugh slightly to yourself, “You are ridiculous.” You mumble, chuckling. Before you could consider anything else, however, he walked in, his stature at attention.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” He asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up in his presence, “I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” You tried not to gush as you spoke.

“Oh… Yes, anything for you, your Highness.” He nodded in response. Your chest filled with warmth as you looked at him.

“You’ll be accompanying me today, correct?” You ask.

“Of Course, Your Highness.” He nodded once again, you really wanted him to call you princess again.

“Wonderful, I hope you slept well last night.”

“I did, Princess, did you?” You smiled a little too wide at the title, and tried to cool your cheeks, not wanting to look like an absolute child in front of him.

“Yes, I did, thank you once again, I’ll see you later.” You sigh in response. “Dismissed.” That word felt like poison to you, you didn’t really want him to leave but didn’t know how to keep him around longer. This was an accident waiting to happen, and you had the power to stop it in its tracks, the only problem is that you didn’t want to.

—

The Gardens were even more beautiful in the daylight, the sun shone spectacularly off the fountains and the various statues scattered throughout the estate contrasted lovely with the bright flowers. You sat at a round table ornately decorated with various different pastries, teas and sandwiches on it. Around the table was the Queen, the women of her royal court, yourself and of course the Elf. You really wanted to speak to the elf, unfortunately, you asat across from her, and was forced to mostly converse with The Duchess Wren and another woman you had never spoken to before. The Queen introduced her to you last night but you were having a hard time remembering her name. The women weren’t in such heavy gowns this time, and none of them wore the jeweled headpieces they had on the night before except for the queen. You wore a light beige and white dress which ruffled at the sleeves and had a scooping boat neckline. It was very beautiful, however the corset back didn’t go nearly as high this time as the last dress did, which meant you couldn’t use it as an excuse to spend more time alone with the silent knight. He stood a few feet behind you away from the table, watching over the event. Every now and then you would turn to glance at him, ceiling every time you laid eyes on his armor.

The tea was fine, not as good as the winter teas you had back home, they were far more bitter. Mandalorians clearly enjoyed more bitter-tasting food as you noticed the longer you’re here. Once again, you were being mostly ignored as the Women who knew each other talked about drama within the Mandalorian Royalty. It was all much more conspicuous than anything you would talk about at home, and you found yourself quietly listening in on the various conversations instead of applying yourself to them. The women most likely thought you were some sort of strange claude, not social enough and far too boring for their culture. Again, you tried convincing yourself that you were overthinking, but you had a hard time believing yourself.

“And what about you, Your Highness?” The Elf spoke up, interrupting your deep and self-centered thoughts.

“Huh?” You were not listening.

“What do you think about the conduct to come out of Coruscant?” One of the fatter women sitting by the queen asked.

“Oh… I think they’ve rather lost their integrity since the assassination of their Emperor…” You clear your throat. You were just saying what you remember hearing your father say, attempting to fit into the conversation and hopefully gain some affection, knowing how much Mandalore despised Coruscant (you were rather indifferent, however).

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Queen smiled, “I believe you will be well suited for the politics of Mandalore.”

“Oh yes,” you began, “I had been preparing to be Queen of Corellia my whole life, I find politics rather exciting.” You admitted.

“Hm, I prefer to leave the politics to the men.” The fat woman scoffed and sipped her tea.

“I nearly forgot, you’re the only hair to the throne of Corellia, aren’t you?” The elven queen asks.

“Yes, I am.” You nod in response.

“Ah yes, your mother got sick and lost a baby-” The fat woman laughed. Your face dropped and went pale.

“Excuse you-” You began.

“Lady Aryn, have you no respect?” The Queen frowned.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, just a rumor I heard.” She shrugged, not seeming to care that she offended you or The Queen.

“Well it’s not a rumor.” You swallowed thickly, wanting to put her in per place for such an inappropriate comment, “My mother lost a baby when I was all but five and you have the audacity to bring it up like there’s nothing rude about it.” You spit out.

“Well who is to take the throne once you marry the Prince?” The fat woman asked as she sipped her tea. Many of the other women involved stayed quiet, timidly watching the drama play out.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business.” You chuckle out of frustration.

“It is my business, whomever rules Corellia during the impending war will directly affect how Mandalore responds to it. Considering my husband is the Grand General of the Mandalorian Army, it is very much my business.” Lady Aryn raised an eyebrow and dread washed over your body as she finished.

“I believe that your Cousin will be taking the throne?” The Elf Queen vouched for you and you were thankful she did, but still found the entire situation rude and out of hand.

“It should be me, but I’m being married off and getting my title stripped away from me.” You blurted out and immediately regretted what you said. You looked around at the faces of the women at the table. Each one showing a different expression of shock or betrayal, everyone but the Queen. The Queen’s face was stern, her lips dangerously straight and thin and her eyes dark as the two of you made eye contact. You had offended the Queen of Mandalore, you had offended the most powerful and wealthy monarch in the world. You sighed, and closed your eyes for a moment. “May I be excused, Your Majesty?” You asked with your eyes closed, waiting to open them until you finished speaking. You looked up at her through furrowed eyebrows, awaiting her response. The air was deathly thick, the tension grew as the court looked around at the scene. Your anger was justified, the remark on your unborn sibling was out of turn and incredibly rude, and after feeling ignored and unwanted for twenty-four hours by the very people set up to be your family, you snapped.

“You are excused.” The Queen said quietly, almost too quiet to hear, and you slowly stood from your chair before turning to leave. You looked to your knight as you did, and he followed. After you made distance between yourself and the other Mandalorian women, you could hear faint whispers. That went so much worse than you could have ever imagined. You want to disappear, you want to go home. You swallow a tear and sigh of relief when you get back into the Palace, strolling the halls until you found an empty sitting room. You sit down on one of the blue sofas and bring your fist up to your mouth. The Knight waited at the door, watching your every move. You felt ridiculous, and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of the only person who’s shown you any decency since you arrived in Mandalore. You look over to him with dewey eyes before clearing your throat.

“I apologize for my conduct, I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You shakily sigh out. He didn’t reply, and you laugh once, “I suppose you have your code to uphold here.” You look down as you place your hands in your lap.

“No, I’ve sworn to protect you, that comes before the code of arms.” He takes a step forward and you were almost startled at his voice, you weren’t expecting him to speak up, but you were incredibly happy he did. You look up to see him a little closer, and smile just slightly at his gesture. “I didn’t protect you out there, I’m sorry.” He nodded his head.

“There’s no way you could have known,” You shrug, you didn’t want him to blame himself for your mistake, “Besides, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Maybe you weren’t in any physical danger, but.. I really shouldn’t say this but that was out of hand. You’re family with the Queen now, she should have defended you.” He continued to step closer to you. “I deeply apologize for being so careless and allowing you to be hurt.” He bowed after saying this, and you smiled.

“Your apology is accepted, Sir Knight.” You slightly teased. “Thank you.” Your chest and stomach was filled with that warm and welcoming feeling again, and the negative endeavor from outside was forgotten even for just a moment. You knew you would have to face it eventually, and formally apologize to the Queen for offending her, but until then, you would allow yourself to feel okay for now. “You’ve been the kindest to me since I arrived.” You tilt your head, “You have no idea what it’s meant to me.”

“As I said, I vowed to be there for you, I will honor that vow.” He said, you didn’t want to feel like he was only being nice to you because he had to. You suck your lips in for a quick second as you absorb his response, unsure of how to respond. “But-” he interrupted your thinking, “It has truly been a pleasure to serve you, and I would be happy to undress you when you ask.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse me?” It’s not that you didn’t like what you said, you just weren’t expecting it so casually.

“That- came out wrong, forgive me.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I’m happy to help you with anything you like.” He clears his throat and you smile, blushing at his sheepish correction.

“I understand.” You look down at the floor again. “I’m sorry they only give you the nights off.” You switched the topic, not wanting to linger on the last one in case someone was walking by or overheard anything.

“That’s fine, I... enjoy my time with you.” He stopped mid-sentence to consider what he was saying. You smile and laugh a little again.

“It must be tiring, wearing the armor all day, standing at attention, only getting a handful of breaks every few hours…” You think out loud.

“I’m used to it,” He shifts to his weight on one leg, lightly poppin his hip out as he speaks to you. “It’s not so bad, anymore.”

“Is the armor heavy?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

“Yes, but that’s another thing we get used to. Our bodies adapt to it.”

“So… are you saying you’re strong under all that metal.” You raise and eyebrow, flirting just a little. You could hear a light chuckle come through the helmet when you said this.

“I guess you could say that.” It was like you could hear his smile.

“I’ve found that all Mandalorians are very attractive, do you fall under that assumption?” You knew very well you were playing with fire, that this was uncharted territory and everything was screaming at you to stop before you got too far but you couldn’t. Everything about him was so intriguing to you.

“I’m.. I’m not from Mandalore, actually…” He slowly responded.

“Oh?” You tilted your head, “I thought you had to be in order to be a part of the guard?”

“Well, in a way, you do. You have to be either born in or taken in as a foundling, and that’s what happened to me.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” You blinked, “Where are you from? Or can you not tell me…”

“The Nevarro frontier.” He responded, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He groaned. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sound of his rough voice groaning in such a way. You swallow your thoughts.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I guess you could say that.” You smile at him again after he says this before turning and looking behind you, taking in the room. This was a larger sitting room, and there was a baby-grand piano in one of the corners. Outside of the windows you could see a courtyard, not the same courtyard that the garden is placed in, but one that was stoned and had a large tree in the center of it. There was so much of the palace you hadn’t seen yet, it was far larger than the Corellian one. You stood up to walk over to the piano, feeling a bit better now, and sitting at it. “Can you play?” He asked.

“Yes, I learned at a very young age.” You bring your hands up to keys and begin playing a song, one you have memorized. It was your mother’s favorite song. You played it with such emotion that the Knight was drawn into it, relaxing from his attentive stature and enjoying the sound.

“You’re... very talented.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” You said, looking up at him from the instrument. “I’m a bit rusty I must admit.” You shrug.

“I know someone who would really love it, no matter how rusty you say it is.” He explained.

“Who?” You ask as you stop playing, wondering who he may be talking about.

“I-I shouldn’t say, I’ve already broken the code so much-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I fully understand.” You interrupt, “But just know that anything you say is safe with me, If you vowed to protect me from both physical and emotional harm, the least I can do is keep your secrets.” You nod. He sighs, you can’t hear it but you see it in the armor.

“My.. Uh, my son.”

—

“Soniee, do you know if any guards are fathers?” You ask as the handmaiden tightens the corset on a different dress, tying it to your body. You were preparing for some time alone (chaperoned) with the Prince. You knew you promised the Knight you would keep his secret, and you would do everything in your power to uphold that secrecy, but you figured there was no harm in asking a few questions here and there. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re just curious about the customs and traditions of your new kingdom.

“Well many of the Knights have families of their own, some have illegitimate children as well.” She said behind you.

“So, they don’t have an oath of celibacy?” You ask, hoping it didn’t sound too strange or specific.

“What? No,” She laughed as she said ‘no’, “No, marriage and families are incredibly important to Mandalorian society, the only thing stronger than power or war is love and family. Blood before anything else.” She explained, she had clearly said those words before.

“Maybe that’s why everyone is so cold towards me.” You sigh.

“Maybe.” Soniee confirmed, “But I also believe any new member of house Kyrze is going to be given a hard welcome.”

“And why is that?” You ask, wincing afterwards due to a tight pull of the corset.

“Well it’s taught in every Mandalorian history class: House Kyrze is the royal bloodline, but it wasn’t always that way…”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a civil war some years ago almost immediately after the assassination of Queen Satine. A bad man came in and tried to overthrow Queen Bo-Katan. He was successful in his endeavors for a while, and that's why the Elves and the Queen are so close-” The handmaiden explained.

“I never knew about a Mandalorian war that happened among themselves?”

“It’s shielded from the outside world, we fear that if it gets out, people will stop coming to us for their wars out of speculation that we are not strong enough to fight them if we can’t control each other.” She finished the corset and took a step back, admiring the beautiful dress. “Many Mandalorian’s blame Queen Bo-Katan for the civil war even though she gave up everything she believed in to protect the royal family. You see, she used to be on the side of the Bad Man, but switched after her sister’s death. Many see her unfit for the crown, including members of her own Court.” You didn’t need any more explanation from Soniee to assume who that might be. Considering your previous endeavor this morning, the fat woman probably did not approve of the queen.

“That is why it’s essential that this marriage happens. The people love Korkie, they always have. He is the true heir and the pride of his mother, who was revered and loved throughout all of the kingdoms. When he is back on the throne, not only will anyone who disapproves of Bo be silenced, but they will also see it as one of her many successes. Having to raise and prepare a child who isn’t even yours is not easy.” Soniee concluded.

Great, another weight to be placed on your shoulder based on your ability to fall in love.

“I had no Idea any of that happened.” Your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Personally, I believe that is why you’ve received such a harsh welcome, Korkie is the golden boy of Mandalore, and many will not see you fit for his wife.” You sighed, your belly filling with stress.

“Highness, the Prince is waiting for you in the library.” Your Royal Guard interrupts the conversation, and you smile at him.

“Thank you, Lady Soniee, you’ve been incredibly kind and helpful.”

“Of course, Princess. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She curtsied and you walked out of a your suite into the hallway.

This dress was simpler than the last, a soft pink with embroidered flowers running up and down the smooth tulle and puffy sleeves. It was very beautiful, one you brought from Corellia that was gifted to you a few years ago. You wore pearls from Naboo, and had a soft look to your ensemble. You wanted to be perceived in a specific way by your fiancé, pure of heart, and genuine.

You open the doors to the hallway, and your guard is standing at attention.

“Would you escort me to the library?” You ask, smiling with your lips afterwards. He nods and holds his arm out for you to take, looping your own arms round his and walking down the hallway.

“You look very beautiful, your highness.” He said quietly through the metal, quiet enough that you were the only one who would hear it if anyone would be listening in. You got the lightest touch of goosebumps at his deep and gruff whisper in your ear.

“Thank you, do you think The Prince will like it?” You ask, looking up at his helmet with beady eyes.

“He would be a fool if he didn’t.” The Knight responded, and your stomach filled with butterflies. You blushed as you experienced the addictive feeling of his presence, and pulled him just a bit closer to you. The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the journey to the beautiful library. This was a part of the palace that you had never been to before, and it was just as stunning as the rest of the castle. Books from all over the world in countless languages sat upon towering bookshelves that reached the tall ceiling. There was a large fireplace and in front of it was a number of red velvet armchairs and sofas. As you entered the quiet room, your eyes immediately found the Prince, who sat in one of the chairs reading a book, his head resting against his fist. You and the Knight walk towards him, and as you pull to unhook your harm, you feel him stretch his hand out to feel you for as long as possible before the contact breaks.

“Prince Korkie.” You curtsie, interrupting his reading. He looked up from the book and smiled, standing and bowing to kiss your hand once again.

“Your Highness, You look lovely.” After he compliments you, you turn to look at the guard, smiling.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.” You as he takes your hand and guides you to sit on a sofa.

“Not at all.” He reassured, “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Vaughn, he will be chaperoning us today.” He gestured to a man sitting across from you.

“My pleasure, Princess.” He stood from his seat to bow.

“The library is beautiful, as is everything else in the palace.” You compliment.

“It’s less beautiful when it’s been your classroom growing up.” The Prince teased and you chuckle. “If you would like, please feel free to take any books at any time.” He nodded.

“Thank you, but I’ve never been very into reading.” You admit. “I much prefer music.”

“Ah yes, I play the viola, my mother taught me when I was a boy-“ Somehow he always made it about himself you noticed. You didn’t think he tried to, but conversations are rather boring when you’re just listening. He talked for nearly a half-hour about playing for the Queen of Naboo as a twelve year-old and being revered as a child prodigy for the early part of his life. You sat quietly as he bragged, telling the story to both you and the chaperone instead of keeping his focus on you. You even caught your mind wandering every now and then, glancing over to your knight to make a little face of boredom in an attempt to make him smile. You know you wouldn’t be able to see him if he had smiled, but the thought of it was enough to keep you occupied. After the Prince bragged about his viola skills for close to an hour, he finally asked what you played.

“Piano, actually. It’s my muse, if you will.” You smile, happy to have finally been included, although it was short lived. The prince then continued to talk about how the Queen could play piano but got sick of it after her sister died and hasn’t played in a very long time. He went on and on about it, and you were starting to wish you had picked up a book on your way in to pass the time.

“Allow me to show you to my favorite section of the library.” The Prince said, forcing you to snap out of your little trance as he held your hand out. You clearly hadn’t been listening for a while because you had no recollection of the previous situation, his voice was very tune-out-able. “I’ve asked the Chaperone and Knight to stay here while I do.” He smiled, and you take his hand, standing from the chair.

“Is that appropriate?” You ask.

“I’m the Prince, I can do what I want.” He shrugs and then proceeds to walk you towards a corner in the library. You look over your shoulder to the Knight one last time before you’re pulled around the corner. “This hall is where I would go when I was mad, isn’t it beautiful?” He asked.

“Yes, it is.” It had mostly desks and only a few bookshelves, but was covered in mirrors on both sides of the walls, showing an endless reflection of thousands of copies of yourself.

“I wanted to give you this, as an engagement present.” He held out a small box wrapped with a blue bow.

“Thank you…” You take the gift out of his hand.

“It was my mother’s.” He said as you untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace of a sapphire stone with a gold halo.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You held up the necklace to your eyes, watching how it sparkled in the light.

“May I put it on you?” He asked. You nod and hand him the jewelry. Turning around and pulling your hair to the side, you feel him hook the necklace, letting the heavy gem sit against your collarbone. You looked down at it.

“It’s incredibly beautiful, Prince Korkie.” You turn around and smile.

“Please, just Korkie.” He said before forcing a kiss on you, pushing his lips into yours forcefully and holding you in place. It startled you, you hadn’t expected this from him, especially considering how kind he had been before. This was your first kiss and was less than pleasant. You push him off you, and look at him in disbelief. You didn’t want to offend him, but couldn’t mask the look of shock and beytrayal from your face. Your stomach filled with regret, it was customary to not kiss one another until your wedding day, why had he broken that tradition? You felt as though it was your fault he forced himself onto you, and you swallowed back the feeling of anger and distrust. If anyone found out you had kissed him before the wedding, they would all blame you, regardless of who initiated the kiss. You both knew this.

“Excuse me…” You huff passed him, returning to the main room of the library and walked towards the door, you heard your Knight follow you close after, and in a fit of confusion and flusterment, you storm as fast as you can towards your room.

When you two got to a more private part of the palace, closer to the suite, you heard him speak up, “Princess, princess what’s wrong?” You hear your knight say, and before you can ignore him, you feel him grab your hand. It isn’t forceful and it doesn’t hurt, but he’s strong, he wouldn’t be letting you go unless he had to. You turn around to show a tear running down your cheek. “What did he do?” The Guard asked. You swallow thickly and try to look away, darting your eyes behind him, “Look at me.” He said.

“I can’t see your eyes.” You sniffle.

“Please, did he hurt you?” He took a step closer to you, your bodies almost flush against one another.

“We can’t do this here-“

“Did he hurt you?” The knight repeats himself, sterner this time.

You look at his helmet and sigh, “No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t concern you.” You were embarrassed, and pull your hand away before walking away, trying to get to your room before bursting into tears. You heard him pick up his pace to catch up and then suddenly he was cutting you off with his body, firmly grabbing your shoulders.

“As your Royal Guard, it does concern me. I told you just this morning that I promised to protect you, and now you’ve gotten hurt twice because of my mistakes.” He said, startling you just a bit. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one had ever shown that they care this much.

“It’s not your fault, really.” You reassure.

“But it is. What did he do to you?”

“It’s… I’m embarrassed. It’s silly and I’ll-“

“Nothing you say could ever be ‘silly’ to me.” He said, his voice hushing as he did, giving you those little goosebumps again.

You sigh, looking up at him and trying to get out your next sentence, “He-he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it and he broke tradition and it was all so… so forced.” You admit, feeling as though he would blame you for the kiss.

“He what?”

“You’re really going to make me repeat myself?” You scoff and push passed him, you were almost to your room, if you could make it just a little further-

“He kissed you?” The knight asked.

“Yes. I told you it’s ridiculous but-“

“It’s… not. Ridiculous, that is. It’s not ridiculous. Did he ask if he could?”

“No…” You reply, “I didn’t think he had to.” You raise an eyebrow. “I just wasn't expecting such a stark betrayal of tradition and it startled me and if anyone else find out, they’ll all blame me-“

“He has no right to lay a single finger on you without your permission. He hurt you, and therefore I’ve failed at my job.” He interrupted you.

“Oh-“ You mutter, finally arriving at your door. He had done that without your consent, he had hurt you. The knight was right all along and you were stupid to not accept his help right away. You wipe a tear away from your cheek and open the door. You take a step in, and hold the door open for him to join you. “I have over an hour before dinner… I’ll have to see him again.” You swallow before closing the door.

“I’ll be there by your side, I won’t leave you again. I won’t let him hurt you like that ever again, I promise.” He was firm and confident with his words, giving you a little wave of relief as he spake them.

“Thank you.” You whipser. You take a deep breath and look at him, “You said he can’t do anything without my permission?”

“Yes. That’s how you protect yourself. Don’t give him power he doesn’t deserve.” The Knight explains.

You exhale sharply, “I had never been kissed before.” You admit, looking down at the floor. “It wasn’t what I expected, to say the least.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t… kisses are special, sacred.” He sounded pained as he said them, like it was hard for him to get the words out.

“Have you kissed anyone?” You ask, considering he had a son, you assumed he had, but never really know unless you ask.

“Yes, once, a long time ago.”

“So you haven’t had that helmet on since birth?” You lighten the mood just a little. You hear him chuckle and your stomach is filled with warmth at the noise.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Can you ever take it off?” You ask, walking over to sit on your bed, listening intently, he takes a step in that direction, too.

“Yes, I take it off to eat and bathe and sleep and sometimes I take it off to talk to my son…” He sighs, “But at work, in the palace, in the eyes of other people, it stays on. Always.This is the way.”

“I still don’t understand why.” You tilt your head.

“It… protects us, it keeps our knighthood separate from our manhood, an it’s an ancient tradition practiced by Mandalorians, we do it to respect the culture.” He nods as he speaks.

“Hm, I half expected you to say it was just because you were ugly.” You giggle, and he shakes his head. This time, you knew he was smiling under all that metal.

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” You could hear his smile in his words. You blush and the butterflies in your stomach only grow. You pause for a moment, carefully considering what you were going to say next.

“Will you… will you kiss me?” You ask, looking up at him, he goes still.

“What?”

“Will you kiss me?” You repeat yourself. He doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake. You wanted him to, you wanted to know what he meant by “kisses are sacred”. He had plagued your mind ever since you first spoke to him and you already have far more affection in your heart for the Knight than for the Prince. You wanted to kiss him.

He sighs in response, and nods once, “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.” You blushed at his agreement.

“Okay.” You say, slowly closing your eyelids and patiently awaiting his next move, feeling triumphant that he agreed. Your body fills with adrenaline as you wait, trying to slow your heart rate with deep breaths.

“Promise to keep them closed?”

“I promise.” You whisper and a few seconds after, you hear the sound of metal hitting metal, and the hollow echo of his helmet being placed on the mattress by where you sit. It took everything in you not to open your eyes, you wanted to look at him, wanted to see his eyes. But you made a promise, you had made promises to each other and had to keep those promises.

Then, ever-so-gently, you feel his warm and forgiving lips against yours.

They’re soft and light, like he didn’t want to hurt you. You melted into his touch, and against your soft skin you felt his stubble run against it. It was rough in the most satisfying and loving sensation possible. He was much kinder than the Prince, so gentle, so true. It wasn’t a very long kiss, but it was more than a peck, and held more passion and intimacy in it than any of the hours you spent with your fiancé combined. He moved just slightly against you, and you felt his bare hand come up to hold your jaw in place as he deepened it for a split second before pulling away. As your lips parted from his, your breath was taken right with them, and you had to consciously remind yourself not to open your eyes.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to remember the feel of his kiss. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, and you wanted another, but before you could ask, you felt the helmet lift off the bed and the sound of gloves being pulled onto hands.

“Open.” He said after a moment, and your eyes fluttered open to see the knighted figure in front of you. “You’re welcome.”

Part three here

[shlutnutt]

- Degrading Desires -

warnings: lots of smut, slight angst, sadism, degrading kink, subby colin (the only right way), dom reader, masturbation

psst! look i know all i write is colin and kai and i apologize, i just really needed to get this fic idea i had in mind for colin lmfao. i'll definitely have more varieties up in no time:) // not fully proof read

Apart from being one of the few women to be working for the police investigating department, you made sure you were considered one of the strongest, independent, and courageous of them all. Whether that'd mean you'd always have to cancel plans to keep your full focus on the current investigations, or even distancing yourself from friends and family.

"Here, it clearly looks like a sniper rifle bullet, was definitely shot from afar. Fucking asshole seemed to have planned this perfectly." you made your claim public to the other detectives in the room, passing around the bloody bullet which was secured in a ziplock bag.

"Yup, thats a modular sniper rifle. This was a perfect planned murder, due to how much accuracy is needed to shoot one of these bad boys. " shouted Colin whilst inspecting the bullet in between his rough hands, completely taking away the attention you had held onto you, aggrivating you immensely.

Colin would do this ever so often, always finding a way to snatch away the minimum attention you'd have gathered up, completely becoming the spotlight. You felt as if he had just so much hatred towards you, like he couldn't resist the fact that you were in fact solving more cases in a week than what he could've in a month. His body language although, spoke differently than his actions.

The detectives cheered Colin on, patting him on his wide back, all just so amazed by how easily he solved the puzzle of what specific type of sniper it was, –when you was literally already getting to the point–. Not one of them credited you for shit, not even the women who claimed to be so sick and tired of the misogynistic behavior that's been going around the department. They were certainly the ones cheering him on the loudest.

You only stood there silently staring down at the pieces of evidence that layed infront of you, the dim lighting that took over the small office room making you disappear almost entirely now. Erasing the fact that your only goal was to help these poor victims rest in peace, allowing their families to have complete closure of every each and tragic murder as Zable in the other hand, was focused on stealing your spotlight, just to feel superior and laugh it off in your face later on.

As the detectives all went to their correspondent offices, you and Colin were the only ones left in the room, as he decided to linger around noticing how you'd stay in to investigate through your lunch break. You feeling nothing but envy and him admiring how difficult he was making your job.

"Good job, buddy." blurted Colin as he walked a step closer towards you, a playful hop almost. His dark brown eyes looking down to your Y/E/C ones, as he fidgeted with his large fingers above the evidence table.

"Look Y/N, Im s-

"You're what Colin? Sorry? Why do you enjoy making my life so fucking miserable? Im fucking tired of it, im trying to genuinely help these families." you spat, looking deeply into his soul, noticing how his eyes began to water.

"You're gonna fucking cry now? Good. You deserve to feel like shit." you continued. Colin only looked down at his fidgety hands before taking a seat on the table, and munching on some leftover salad he had left from his lunch break, allowing his shiny eyes to shed their tears.

"It doesn't feel good to feel like shit does it, you needy whore? You just need attention and validation so fucking bad, why can't you just let me do my job in peace." your usage of language taking the both of you by surprise, pausing quickly after noticing Colin struggling to eat his salad with his left hand, when the man was a righty.

"Colin.. what the fuck are you doi-" you attempt to ask the obvious before getting unpredictabley interrupted by a loud whimper. You bent down slightly, letting curiousity taking the best of you to encounter Colin massaging his bulge through his pants.

"You're a fucking pathetic." you continue to degrade, unintentionally causing the member in his pants to leak in precum, dampening his boxers.

"Stop.. p-please stop." pleaded Colin as he massaged his enlarging buldge under the table, still unaware of you're awarness at his self pleasing.

"Why should I stop Colin? You deserve nothing." you proceed, enjoying the effects your words had on him, his teary eyes looking up at yours whilst you walked around the office.

Despite the fact you truly disliked the man you were currently sharing an office with, you just couldn't deny the fact that you enjoyed making him feel this way. Like shit. I mean he looks like he's enjoying it as well. The way he struggled to chew on his salad whilst attempting to keep his cool infront of you, how his long sleeved shirt slightly attached to his body from his sweat, and how his dark decepting eyes shed tears after tears. It was an admirable view.

He enjoyed the suffering, and so did you.

"I-I need to go to the..bathroom.." said Colin, now getting up from his office chair attempting to leave the room in pure hurry, before you got in his way blocking the door entry making him jump slightly.

"Please don't do this.."

"Don't do what? You've fucked up my job experience for all these months Colin, i think you deserve to get punished. Don't you think?" you teased whilst slowly dragging him back to his seat by his veiny arm.

Zable, although being in complete shock by his show of uncontrollable needs was also taking aback from your actions towards him, feeling out of place by letting a woman dominate him. He only sat on his wheely chair, laying down almost, whilst his breathing was surprisingly heavy allowing small whimpers escape his lips. The man needed you, and urgently.

"If this is what you've wanted this whole time, why not jump straight to the point and be a good boy? Instead of making shit hard." you questioned Colin, before prepping your elbows on either side of the arm rests he layed betweeb, massaging his thighs delightfully, earning graceful low groans.

"W-why are you doing this..?" questioned Colin, his eyes barely being able to open due to the slight amount of pleasure he's been receiving. You completely dodged his question, your focus remaining on his clothed thighs.

"Y/N.." Colin called now, attempting to catch your attention once again, you shushing him almost immediately.

You honestly didn't bother to shift your attention towards what Colin was saying, well that was before you felt his pants dampen up under you, warm fuzzy liquids spreading all over him.

"You c-came on yourself?"

"No.."

"What's this then?" you questioned before unzipping his pants and shoving your hand in his briefs, gathering some of his cum in between your fingers and bringing it up to view. "You came on yourself from me simply touching your thighs Zable?" you affirm before he denied your claim. "I k-kinda like when you y-yell at.. me.. and call me names.." he admitted in between pants, not having the balls to look into your eyes as he spoke.

You only giggled at his lack of dominance underneath you, having fully cummed on himself when you barely even touched him and just called him pathetic little names.

"You're a fucking disappointment Colin, you know that right?"

"Y-yes I know.. Y/N.."

"You deserve nothing for being such a piece of shit."

"Y-.. more..please. more.."

You would've never thought the man who'd been bothering you for all those months to have such a hypersensitive degrading kink. It all adds up now, why he'd tense up to his boss yelling at him, why he loved annoying the shit out of you. Whole time he was waiting for you to snap at him, and well who would've known shit would've ended up his way.

Colin wanted nothing but for you to full on dominate him, for you to take control over every little bone in his body. He was willing to do anything you'd ask him to, he'd bow down and kiss your feet if you'd asked him to for god's sake. The thought of making him your literal sex puppet brough nothing but an internal flame into your core, producing an evil smirk to form on your lips onto the man you were just a few inches away from.

"god you're so beautiful when you're in pain." you announce before attaching your lips to his drooly ones, the two of you ravaging eachothers mouths immediately. Zable only melted under the kiss, slightly lifting his hand up towards your breasts, soon letting it drop onto his lap in cowardness.

"you can touch me." you break the kiss to give your consent, allowing his firmed hand grip onto your right breast as he exhilaratedtly sighed to the soft feeling. Colin gripped on you like his life depended on it, as you lifted your leg onto the left side of his thigh prepping yourself down into a straddle, him groaning to finally feeling some contact against his member.

Colin was a moaning mess already, your dripping clothed cunt aligned with his sensitve clothed tip was driving him over the edge as he grew impatient attaching his large hands onto your hips in attempt of grinding you onto him. Although you knew you had him wrapped around your finger you allowed him to grind up to you, his second releasing nearing rapidly.

"oh.. fuck.." groaned Colin as you two dry humped eachother for several minutes now, your purpose being making him suffer but letting yourself get into the pleasure also, as you animalisticly removed his dressing shirt, popping some buttons out along the way. You then manage to remove yours also whilst gripping onto his short sweaty hair.

"Is that all you can do? huh? not enough." you degrade, producing his rhythm to increase making you groan excitedly. Colin's one soft puppy but he'll for certain make sure you're needs are satisfied as well as his.

Didn't take long for you to moan along with him, feeling his bulge twitch under you, as he came yet again collapsing underneath you.

"Colin."

"..y-yes?"

"you're an amazing little slut."

taglist: @divineruler @thatspookyagent @copy-of-a-cheeto @booboomother @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood @crssjjh

(dm to be in taglist !)

kinda wanna highkey make another part to this but we'll see how it goess

[wolf-queer-discourse]

Adventures in Aphobia #1

So I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day (a regrettable mistake as always), and I had the great pleasure of seeing this joyous post.

*deep breath*

Not gonna lie, posts like this make me real pissed. Pissed because the person who posted this exists in a space where they feel comfortable enough to post this online. Pissed because these posts are so common and often face little backlash. And pissed because there’s nothing better than allosexuals condescendingly explaining to asexual people why they’re dirty attention whores who invent their own oppression. Ace people deserve to be defended against this horseshit. Young people see these posts, and it’s extremely damaging to have your identity be nothing more than fuel for people in discourse to mock you and demand you bled in order for them to notice your pain.

Anger aside, many people do not see why this post is wrong, so why is it? Let’s unpack this clusterfuck of bigotry:

“would love to see substantive evidence of systematic “aphobia” that isn’t actually just misogyny, toxic masculinity, or rpe culture.”

God damn, we are not mincing our words here XD. A few things: systematic in bold, which tells you if you do not make a blood sacrifice on the altar of queer pain you will not be taken seriously. Potential nitpick, but systemic and systematic are not the same thing. I believe systemic is the word they’re looking for. Systematic implies a lot more intentionality that can be hard to prove. Systemic merely means that systems, in their current state, do aphobic things, which they absolutely do.

“Aphobia” in quotes is absolutely rich. Not only will this person refuse to acknowledge systemic aphobia, which is only one type, but this poster casts clear doubt upon the mere concept of aphobia in and of itself. We love to see it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. The statement, as clearly condescending as intended, is sort of correct, though it doesn’t mean a whole lot. Systemic oppression is about the systems in a society (government, healthcare, etc) discriminating against people. Systemic oppression is not bigotry faced on a person-to-person level. In short, systematic oppression is something a person experiences in their overall life, while personal discrimination is experienced on a personal level by people who are not singularly in control of the systems. This post boils down the negative comments ace people face into being called “weird”, which is an understatement for sure, but calling a gay person weird isn’t systemic oppression either.

It’s still bad and discriminatory.

This is such a snotty way to dismiss aphobia as some mere, insignificant comment with no meaning as if it doesn’t reinforce society’s painful aphobic views in the same way casual homophobic comments reinforce heteronormativity and society’s hostility toward gay people.

Ace people face discrimination in healthcare, most notably, which is systemic discrimination, but the systemic discrimination of asexuals really ought to be its own post if I’m to nosedive into it. Even if ace people faced no systemic discrimination, it wouldn’t make this point anymore correct. Discrimination is a perfectly valid reason to feel disregarded by society, and often only ace people are denied the right to feel this way and are instead gaslit into admitting what they face is no big deal and they’re just making it up for attention.

The experience of being pressured to have sex when you’re allo vs ace is very different. The vast majority of allo people do not plan to be celibate their whole lives. Many ace people do not want to have sex, ever. “Waiting for sex” in much of western society and in Christianity is seen as pure and honorable. Yet being asexual and never wanting sex is seen as a deviant disorder and people are accused of robbing their partner of sex forever.

There’s really a specific flavor of sexual pressure that is unique to ace people. Sex being to “fix” someone or because they “just need to try it”.

In this respect, aphobic sexual pressure is better compared to that faced by gay people and lesbians. Lesbians especially often can face this same struggle, men pressuring them to have sex because they think lesbians just need to “try it” or to “fix them”. I can imagine this poster would have no issue acknowledging lesbophobia being the root of lesbians coerced into sex with men, yet she does not give ace people the same.

Imagine if someone said (and knowing our fucked world, someone probably has): “Lesbophobia doesn’t exist. It’s just misogyny. Straight women are coerced into sex too!”

It’d be pathetic bullshit. Toxic masculinity, misogyny and many other issues can all tangle into combined messes with other forms of bigotry. Lesbophobia is an experience that deserves to be recognized apart from misogyny, even if the two are linked. Please stop erasing ace people’s experiences with this when it’s not the same thing.

Honestly, though, this post, as trashy as it is, if anything, is perhaps, really asking: Is there any type of aphobic experience that’s inherently exclusive to ace people?

I still wager to go say, yes, yes there is, but I must make an important point first:

Most experiences of queer discrimination are not limited to queer people.

Homophobia and transphobia are both experienced by cishets in certain instances. Feminine straight men can be victims of homophobic harassment. This does not disprove the fact that it’s homophobia just because a straight man is the victim of it. A tall cis woman with broad shoulders and a lower voice may be the victim of transphobic remarks or comments. The basis of these comments is rooted in transphobia, however, so the fact that the victim is cis does not erase the transphobia.

People who argue that experiences ace people complain about can be experienced by allosexuals are not poking a legitimate hole in doing this. Certain experiences related to aphobia can and are experienced by allosexuals. If you do not acknowledge this, then homophobia and transphobia aren’t real because cishet people have sometimes experienced them.

Despite cishets sometimes experiencing queerphobia, most of us acknowledge that their experience of that bigotry, however unfortunate, is not the same as that experienced by actual queer people. It’d be quite homophobic for a feminine straight man to claim he knew just as much about the gay experience as an actual gay man. Similarly, when allosexual people relate experiences that were rooted in aphobia, it’s overstepping a line when they claim asexual discrimination isn’t real because they experienced elements of it too.

Cishet (cishet including allosexuals) people do not experience their doctors telling them their sexuality might be a disorder or caused by trauma. Allo queer people can experience this with their sexualities too.

“using sex appeal to sell products is misogyny, it is not engineered to gross sex-repulsed people, it is meant to objectify women.”

This is a strawman thinner than my last nerve. Uh, what? What ace people are you seeing that literally think sex appeal was engineered to gross-out sex-repulsed people?? I don’t think this is a core argument??

Yes, sex-repulsed ace people sometimes complain about sex appeal in media being uncomfortable. But that’s it. Every time an ace person shares a discomfort of theirs doesn’t mean it’s the entire basis of their oppression. For the love of God, let ace people discuss their experiences without being blow-torched over not being oppressed enough with an individual discomfort. 

BONUS ROUND

(This was in the tags)

“Completely vilifies celibate individuals” 

...no…? What…? Huh…? 

The most charitable interpretation of this vague accusation is that the poster means celibate people face aphobia as well, due to not wanting to have sex. I have no idea how this “vilifies” anyone, but that aside, as said before: people who are not queer can face aphobia. Also worth noting that society treats celibate people way better than ace people, which is really another example of aphobia. Celibate people can be told they’re missing out (which could be at very least related to aphobic ideals), but they’re rarely called broken. Celibacy is seen more as a respected, controlled ideal in allo people, but when ace people want to do it, they’re just mentally ill.

Anyway, the post was aphobic trash, and it needs to be debunked more often. Mocking ace people online is not a good look anymore, guys. Don't be ugly.