#oliver stark when i get you...

[diazfox]

ship so good one of the actors literally admits that the chemistry is so palpable that he agrees with what the fans see and never had to fake it

[madneywedding]

the way i would pay for oliver to write meta about buck's character

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Favorite Buddie Moments Per Episode: 7x4 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered (Part 2)

[buddiesmutslut]

OKAY OKAY OKAY YOU GUYS BUT WHAT IF!!

What if, in the last few minutes of 7x10, we cut to Frank in his office. The camera is focused on him so we don’t know who’s on the couch across from him.

He’s mentioning the last time the person was there, that they were talking about intimacy & their partner and worries about the future (throwback to Athena on the first episode & Bobby in the cruise ship arc), and Frank asks the person how it’s going…

AND THEN IT PANS TO EDDIE IN THE ROOM LOOKING UNCOMFORTABLE AND UPSET AND KIND OF A MESS AND HE SAYS SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF: “I realized I couldn’t commit to Ana or Marisol in the way I thought I should because they’re not what I wanted. I don’t think I like women.” A pause. A breath. “And I think that’s because I’m in love with my best friend.”

END SEASON ROLL CREDITS YOU’LL HAVE TO COME BACK IN S8 TO SEE HOW IT PLAYS OUT.

[buddiedaydreamer911]

kinda want to write a fic where buck or eddie proposes to the other during a love confession.

kinda want to have the other be shocked and mention how they haven’t even dated yet

kinda want to make buck or eddie use my most favorite line of One Tree Hill: “I could love you forever. So why can’t forever start today?”

[kitkatpancakestack]

Oliver Stark,,,, what are you hiding underneath all that muscle and la croix,,,there's a depravity inside you I want to unpack

[mishtershpock]

.

[bamboozled-distress]

I HATE IT WHEN I HAVE HYPERFIXATIONS ON SHOWS OR BOOKS AND THINGS AND THEN WHILE THIS IS HAPPENING I HEAR THAT THR SERIES OR WHATEVER IS ENDING AND I GET SO SAD YOU DONT FUCKING UNDERSTAND

I BARELY GOT TO LOVE IT AND ITS ENDING WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN ITD ENDING I LOVE IT YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME PLEASE

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Jacaerys returns to Dragonstone after spending some time in Winterfell. He comes back looking differently…and has learned some new things 😏👅🐱

Request: 9 for Jacee ‘’Where have you learned to do that?’’

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), slight fingering, assumption of cheating

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Months have gone by since the prince Jacaerys left for Winterfell to gain House Stark and the North for the cause of his mother, Queen Rhaenyra. His visit should have been a short one, but Cregan Stark insisted he spent more time in the North. According to his letter, Lord Stark had taken a liking to him and wanted Jacaerys to get a true experience of the North. He said that getting closer to the northmen would help gain their support. 

Life on Dragonstone was lonely without him. A part of yourself was missing. 

You spent time with Baela and Rhaena, helped Lucerys get more confident with his dragon, played with Joffrey when no one would. You were in the early stages of a civil war, the adults didn’t have much time for the young boy. The Queen was grateful for your help. 

A few days ago, after you got back from riding your dragon, a raven came from Winterfell — a new message from Jacaerys saying he should be expected to return in the late afternoon. 

Excitement bubbled in your stomach. 

Rushing to your chamber, you didn't want to greet him smelling of dragon. You shed your riding clothes as a handmaid helped you fill your tub with hot water. She added rose oil to make your skin soft and you made sure to scrub extra hard with the brush. You wanted to look nice for Jacaerys. 

After bathing, you put on a clean dress and asked Baela for help with your hair. She was the best at braiding. 

‘’Do you think he missed me while he was away?’’ 

Behind you, Baela chuckled as she twisted your braids and pinned them. ‘’I wouldn't doubt it, Lady Y/N.’’ 

Hearing a dragon's roar, you jumped and went to your window. The air was gloomy, making it difficult to see through the horizon. You bit your lip, searching for an olive green shape. Although he was a small dragon, Vermax’s red wings were easy to discern in the skies.

You glanced over your shoulder to Baela. ‘’They’re here.’’ 

She finished your hair, ensuring every strand fell perfectly in place, and you descended the stairs with Baela on your tracks. 

As you reached the great hall, you saw the Queen and her children standing near the painted table, accompanied by a hubbub of voices. Lucerys talked animatedly about sword practice while a very excited Joffrey was jumping on his feet, excited to see his big brother. Rhaenyra told them to quiet down and give Jacaerys some air, which made you laugh. 

The sound caught their attention, and Jacaerys' eyes shifted to you. 

He had grown since he left — his shoulders broader, his stature more commanding. His once pin-straight hair now cascaded in soft curls that framed his face perfectly. He looked nothing like a Targaryen anymore. 

‘’Jace,’’ you whispered, a smile lighting up your face as you approached him.

For supper, a small feast was held in his honor. Daemon and Rhaena joined you for the meal, raising their cup to Jacaerys’ return. 

When the hour started to get late, you and Jacaerys retired to your chamber. Half-way there up the stairs, he pulled you into a corner of the staircase and kissed you the way he had been dying to since he got back. You pulled a moan out of him when your teeth glided against his bottom lip, and circled your arms around his neck as his hands were gripping your hips with a strength that was new. 

A voice came from the staircase below — probably one of the servants —, prying the two of you apart. You giggled against Jacaerys' shoulder. 

Once you reached the privacy of your chamber, Jacaerys shut the door and drew you to him again as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. You moaned under the touch of his mouth, melting against him as your fingers worked on each other’s clothes, pulling at the laces and buckles until they fell off your bodies and onto the floor.

You tried to not step on your dress as you walked back to the bed, then let your shift slip down your shoulders and pool at your feet, leaving you fully naked. 

‘’Gods.’’ 

You blushed as Jacaerys followed down your neck to between your legs, taking his time to admire your body. You had never felt truly desired before him. Only objectified — as were all women in Westeros.  

‘’Do you like what you see, my Prince?’’ you asked, his eyes finding their way back to yours. 

Jacaerys didn’t respond. All he did was gently push you down into the bed. 

You expected him to get on the bed too, but to your surprise, he kneeled at the end of it and pulled you close to the edge. A frown drew between your eyebrows as you looked down. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing on the floor, but the words got caught in your throat as Jacaerys kissed the inside of your thighs. 

It was something new, but not disagreeable.  

Then, he pushed your thighs further apart and pressed the sweetest kiss right over your slit, causing you to squirm. 

‘’Jace, what are you—’’

Your question died on your tongue as he peaked out and flicked your clit, sending a jolting sensation up your core. Jacaerys didn't stop there — he was far from finished with you. He laid his tongue flat and licked a fat strip up your entrance to your clit, stirring a gasp from your lips. 

Your reaction made him smile, encouraging him to pursue. He took a second lick of your cunt, then captured your clit between his lips to suckle at. You let out a mewl of pleasure, your hand traveling down your body to clutch at Jacaerys's soft hair. He alternated between sucking and licking at you, the room filling with obscene noises as your legs tightened on each side of his face, caging him. 

Releasing your clit, Jacaerys slid his tongue between your folds, tasting your arousal on his tongue. You've had his fingers inside you, but never his tongue. Arching your back, you pushed against his face, asking for more. And Jacaerys was happy to give it to you, adding a finger to the mix and pushing deeper inside you.

With your free hand, you clutched the sheets, biting your lips and holding back the moans that wanted to slip out. Had Lucerys’s bedchamber not been so close to yours, you would not have held them back. But y0u didn’t wish to scar his young ears. The poor boy would not be able to look you in the eyes again. 

Jacaerys withdrew his tongue and added a second finger, moving the former back to your clit and making a slobbering mess all over you. 

The rush of pleasure filling your body intensified and you rolled your hips into his face with abandon as your orgasm snapped. Your husband’s name left your lips in a delicate whimper, throwing your head back as he lapped at you, taking everything you were giving him. 

Easing your hands off his hair, you slowed your hips down. 

Jacaerys took the cue and left your pussy alone. 

‘’Where did you learn that?’’ you asked, looking down between your legs as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He rose to his feet and fell back on the bed with you. ‘’The North.’’ 

Your heart sank, and a knot formed in your stomach. Thoughts raced through your mind, thinking he had bedded another woman. You would have never thought that he would commit infidelity.

Seeing the concern etched across your face, Jacaerys reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. ‘’No,’’ he said softly, his eyes searching yours for understanding. ‘’Not…’’ He shook his head. ‘’Never.’’ 

His words washed over you like a wave of relief.

‘’Northmen, when they get drunk, they talk a lot. About their hunts, about their horses, about the things they do to their women in bed. I didn’t know women could be kissed there, but I wanted to try it. Did you…did you enjoy it?’’ 

A smile curled on your lips as you looked at him. His physique may have changed while he was in the North, but inside, he was the same nervous boy you wed in the spring. 

You nodded slowly. ‘’Can you do it again?’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

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[chronicowboy]

i'm deeply deeply obsessed with the way tommy can make buck just. melt. like we haven't seen a lot of it and we already know he's smitten as all fuck but those few moments we get where all the tension seeps out of buck and he's just with tommy. they're so special to me. the "i guess it's just me that makes you nervous then" and when buck sees him in the cafe for the first time. the world just kind of fades away and buck is just sitting across from someone he really really fucking likes. and oliver stark i am in your walls.

[diazfox]

the funniest part about oliver saying that buck's intro to eddie could very possibly have been misplaced jealousy because he didn't properly understand his own feelings is the fact that the exact same thing has happened yet again in 7x01 with a shirtless eddie in the locker room, and in 7x04 with misplaced jealousy because he still doesn't properly understand his own feelings

[lanabuckybarnes]

I love bucky and princess 🥰 could you maybe do something where he’s punishing her and then gets really annoyed when she’s not answering his questions after they’ve been going a while…he thinks she’s being bratty but it’s because she’s in sub space and can’t really hear him and is feeling vulnerable?

Confessions.

18+ MINORS DNI

Princess has been off all day; a lingering feeling deep within her, running through her veins and it’s driving her insane. It’s not she’s around Bucky she realises just what it was. Bucky realises something too.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x Bratty!Reader (Princess)

Warnings: Princess screaming at poor workers again, Dom Bucky, Brat Taming, Spanking (with a belt), Hair Pulling, Subspace Princess, Very Guilty Bucky, Praising, Kinda Sweet, Confessions, the L word bleugh — any more warnings please let me know!!

Word Count: 2.6k

Note: thank you to my bbg @buckys-wintersoldier for reading over this and making sure I didn’t just straight up delete it lol and for helping me decide what to do with it. I love ya

Princess has been feeling off all day. A sensation lurking deep in her bones that just doesn’t feel normal and when something doesn’t feel right with Princess she tends to freak out—letting her recently sweet behaviour around Bucky slip as she nose dives into something she feels comfortable in, something that she can wrap around her like a defensive shell.

Usually, in times like this, she’d use Bucky’s still aura to her advantage, letting his calmness embrace her until she felt right again but he wasn’t here—of course the day she felt herself slip Bucky was dealing with other business.

Lost in her trance she fails to notice the maid turning the corner; she blasts right into her, sending the tray the woman was carrying reeling to the floor, the red wine and olives staining the rug instantly. But it wasn’t the rug Princess cared for, the wine had splattered all over her stark white dress, red pooling on the train at her feet—it was brand new and more expensive than a small car.

Before she could stop herself the uneasy feeling creeped into her veins, boiling alongside the anger she felt and exploding into rage.

“Are you FUCKING STUPID!” She spat, the maid instantly flinching and cowering into herself.

“I swear to fucking good no one here is actually good at their job, I mean how hard is it to watch where you're walking…look at that” Her hands grabbed at the dress, shaking the train, her eyes trained on the maid as she looked at the fabric in sheer terror.

“I-I'm really sorry miss I didn’t see you-“Princess snarled, cutting off the woman’s pleading words.

But before anything else could fall from her mouth that she would regret his voice entered the house. She sucked on her bottom lip as his loafers clicked against the floor until she could smell his cologne— usually the scent was enough to have her hanging her head in submission but she was furious, she wouldn’t go down that easy.

Bucky jutted his chin to the side behind Princess, signalling to the maid that she could scurry off and out of the penthouse for at least a little bit. The staff that frequented the house had grown accustomed to the fact that Bucky’s entry meant their departure and the maid couldn’t have been more thankful that he’d chosen to show up just there.

“Princess?” He spoke, authority dripping from the name as he tilted his head ever so slightly. When she turned to face him all his questions were answered. Bucky had years to master his impeccable poker face, standing in front of a mirror for hours at a time had taught him to remain completely unreadable but, it had also taught him how to read others like open books and the girl standing in front of him had all cover open and pages lain bare for him to study.

“Fucking bitch spilt shit on me” She was still angry but his body close to her was slowly sucking the rage from her bones, replacing it with the submission she was so used to—but that feeling remained, heavy in the pit of her stomach and pumping around her bloodstream.

“Did you shout at her?” He asked, fingers curling around her jaw and raising her head until she was gazing at his steel blue eyes. For some unknown reason, Bucky had the innate ability to sense when Princess lied to him, so she never did.

“Mhmm” she nodded against his tight hold, averting her gaze to his dark-coloured tie.

“And you remember what happens when we shout at people right?” He questioned, fingers digging into the fat of her cheeks until her lips parted just enough for his thumb to slip in.

-

Princess yelped as the leather cracked down on her ass again, right in the spot he’d struck before. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fisted the sheets below her; her chest heaving as she took stuttered breath after stuttered breath. She’d lost count of the spanks, choosing instead to focus on not screaming out—Bucky growled as he brought the leather down two more times.

“You gonna fucking keep forgetting our rules huh? Little slut…maybe you wanted fucking spanked, is that it is that why you're Not. Fucking. Answering. Me. Brat.” He enunciated each word with a heavy chop of his belt against the backs of her thighs before leaning forward grabbing a fist full of her hair and pulling her up against his clothed front.

He chuckled at the unabashed moan that fell from her lips as the dark leather ran over the swell of her tit, tapping against her nipple “Maybe I gotta hurt these a little for you to listen, what do you think of that princess?” And for the first time since shoving her onto his bed he looked at her face. His grip loosened in realisation as he noticed the fogged expression over her eyes—lips parted and swollen, her face red and puffy with tear tracks running down till they slipped over her jaw and down her neck. He knew straight away exactly what was going on.

He sucked in a breath as he guided her down gently, unwrapping his hand from the belt and tossing it off to the side.

“Angel?” He whispered, slotting himself between her spread legs and running a thumb over her cheekbone; she mustered a small nod in response.

“Ohhh babygirl you feeling extra subby today huh? Should’ve told me baby and I wouldn’t have hurt you so bad” he flinched at the hiss she let out as his finger smoothed over the welted skin on her ass.

Since the first whack of his belt against her rear that feeling that festered in her body had finally begun to take over; starting from her heart to her sweet little mind, clouding it over until all she could hear was the rushing of her blood and her soft little whimpers as Bucky punished her, spanking her again and again for being so bratty and ignoring him. When she finally reached out, pulling herself to the forefront of her mind, Bucky was leaning over her, swiping away at her tears tenderly while his other hand held up his weight.

He smiled sweetly as some of the fog lifted from her eyes, her wide-coloured orbs watching him like he was the centre of her world—right now he very much was.

“Good girl that’s it, you took your punishment so well princess…just wish you told me you were feeling like this” On the outside Bucky fronted a tenderness he reserved for only her but his brain growled at him for being such an idiot.

How had he not noticed the signs? They were glaring right at him the whole time yet he brushed them off, assuming that she’d just been her bratty self—he was scared she would cower away from him, that he’d pushed her too far and she was too deep in her subspace to say no. He’d hurt her bad.

For the first time since being around Bucky she could read his expression, he was in pain, upset, guilty.

Princess hated seeing his face contorted in such a way.

With a shaky hand she cupped Bucky’s stubbled face and brought his lips down onto hers; sucking up any insecurity he felt into her hot mouth and swallowing it greedily.

When he pulled away to catch his breath, much to her dismay, she let out a desperate whine “Want you Bucky” Her eyes swirled with lust as she begged the man for something he wasn’t sure he could give her—not without hurting her again.

“But I hurt you angel” his voice trembled as he replied, his right hand splayed out on the sheets beside her head, holding up his weight as his left fingers caressed her cheek.

She shakes her head animatedly at his words; he could never hurt her, ever. “Mm mm Buck you didn’t hurt me, I just wanna be your good girl”.

“You’re always my good girl princess” he whispered, lips pecking the tip of her nose.

“Then show me”.

Her hands ran down his built body, fingers expertly undoing the buttons of his shirt as they went; her mouth parts as her eyes followed the opening of his shirt, rock solid abs decorated with a soft happy trail, his muscle under his pecs stretching and tensing as he pulled the shirt from his body. She’d never seen him without his typical suit but gazing up at his body now had her questioning if she should make the dress code in her house nothing but tight black briefs just so she could be blessed with the sight of Bucky’s body over and over again.

“You’ll catch flies princess” he chuckled as she shut her mouth obediently, swallowing down the pool of saliva that had gathered there. His brain was working hard to kill the guilty thoughts still looming menacingly and she must’ve noticed too.

“You are gorgeous, amazing and you couldn’t—you wouldn’t ever hurt me, Buck. I know that and you do too” She kissed down his neck, fingers fiddling with the his pants, a smile blossoming on her mouth at the sound of his zipper purring.

He growled as she sucked a dark mark under his jaw, it would be easily visible to anyone including your father but he’d make up some silly excuse about needing to let off steam—only princess and he would know the truth and his cock twitched against her pussy in response.

As her thumbs hook into the material of his pants he grips onto her wrists, heavy wanton breaths fall from his mouth as he moved his head to rest on hers, his deep blue eyes boring into hers.

“You take them off princess and I won’t be able to hold myself back”

But she just smiles, pecking the tip of his nose before pulling the fabric down over his ass; her pussy aches at the sound of his hiss as the waistband of his dark briefs catches on to his aching tip. As soon as the material is at his ankles he snaps, his thick fingers gripping at her, pulling her closer to him until her bare chest rubbed against his deliciously.

“I’m gonna make a fucking mess of you princess, make you feel how bad I’ve been wanting you—you want that?” He groaned into her ear. His fingers dipped down to circle over her aching pearl, his teeth sinking into his lip at the soft keens and whines she let out—all for him.

“Mmhmm Buck I want it so bad, want you to make me your good girl…wanna be your best girl” she heaves as she reaches behind her, fingers securing themselves around his length and sliding it through her slick folds before resting his thick tip at her entrance.

“You’ll always be my best girl princess” he moans deeply in tandem with her breathy one as he sinks her onto his length. She’d never felt stretched like this in her life, the sting bringing more pleasure to her than she admits, her brain fogging as everything became overwhelmingly clear—she loved him, she loved Bucky so much.

“Aww fuck baby so fucking tight” Bucky was trying his best not to cum on the spot, his balls twitching as he held off on painting her hot cavern. He wanted this to be perfect and him coming after mere seconds of being inside her was not his idea of perfect.

He gripped onto her hips, rocking her softly until she began to bounce herself; she was so close, as she had been since he’d started spanking her.

“Fuck Buck so good” she whimpered, fingers gripping at his short locks as she moaned into his mouth, his tongue tasting each high-pitched whine greedily.

“Come when you want princess, need you to gush around my cock…then I’ll keep fucking you, yeah you’d like that-“ he laughed airly as her cunt clenched around him “god that pussy is fucking suffocating me, baby, gonna make you cum again and again then I’m gonna fucking fill you so much”

His words pushed her over that edge she’d been dangling on for so long. Her cunt fluttered as she moaned his name like a prayer, her hands pressing crescent-shaped dents into his built back.

“Ohhh fuck Buck” she sobbed into the crook of his neck. He shushed her softly, plump lips kissing over the shell of her ear, grounding her from her high. When she calmed, he rocked into her at a steady pace, his feet planted onto the floor as his hips bucked quickly into her.

“Come on princess one more for me—oh fuck—yesss god fucking pussy I can’t get enough ohh angel I’m going crazy” he snarled, flipping them suddenly without ever pulling out or even losing his pace, her loud moans mixing with his like music to his ears. He sucked on his thumb before thrumming it over her sensitive bud, his chest rumbling with a deep desperate groan as she clamped down on him again.

“Mmm fuck I’m gonna cum baby, you want my come baby? You want it inside that pretty princess pussy? Oh hurry baby come again oh shit I’m gonna come—oh fuck princess I love you” his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his cock spasmed with release, pushing squirt after squirt of his seed into her cunt. His warm nut hitting her cervix had her coming again.

“Oh, shit princess—hah—such a good fucking girl, the best” Bucky praised as he slipped his cock from her spent cunt, resisting the urge to push it right back in when his milky essence spilt erotically from her pretty little pussy. In his pleasured stupor he’d neglected to acknowledge those three little words that had fallen from his mouth, the ones he’d been trying so hard to hide ever since that first day, but it only festered as he spent days and nights with you.

Princess was on a completely different planet; her body was roaring with joy and fulfilment—Bucky has finally fucked her, and made her feel like the prettiest girl in the world with his words.

When she finally sailed back to planet Earth Bucky was just returning with a wet cloth, his cock bouncing between his legs as he walked over to the edge of the bed and sat to clean her off, god this man was so hot, and he loved her.

“You-“ she began, words catching in her throat at the first swipe of the cloth over her sensitive folds. He gazed up at her, blue eyes urging her to continue “You love me?” webs of fear, vulnerability and self-consciousness coated the words.

Bucky’s heart fell to his stomach, he’d hoped that she hadn’t heard him, not because he didn’t love her—fuck he really did—but he couldn’t, his job and her status prevented it, her father would have his head on a spike if he found out any of this.

But her wide eyes, her soft giggles in the morning when she’d make his coffee wrong on purpose, the time she’d found his helmet and just had to put it on and then the times she truly showed her vulnerability to him—fuck he loved her and he wasn’t going to lose her.

“Mhmm, love you so much Princess” he wanted to say more but it all died on his tongue, especially when she reached up, her hand cupping his face, her thumb running over the high point of his cheek before pulling him down to meet her mouth in a soft, tender kiss.

“I love you too”.

-

EEEE idk how I feel about this one tbh but I sure do hope you enjoy it. Are Bucky and Princess finally going to stop being little idiots and just date? Who knows because her daddy is ruthless

I have one more lil fic to post that’ll be set before this then I’m gonna take a break from Buck and Princess to focus on some juicy fics and ideas that are calling out for me

Likes, Reblogs and Asks are always appreciated ❤️

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

INDEBTED

Summary: When your father's scandal threatens your family's legacy, Rafe makes you an offer you can't refuse.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x KookFem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Choking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.  

Word Count: 4.8k words

Author's Note: 1000 followers! Wow, I never thought I'd reach 1000 followers. A part of me believes that half of these are bots, but regardless, to those who are real and have decided to join me in my little corner of the Tumblr woods, thank you. Your love and support, especially during these trying times, means a lot. I had this one shot sitting in my drafts for a while and thought I'd finish the damn thing and share it as a thank you. But heed those warnings : it's a dark one. Much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Embezzlement.

What a weird word.

It rolls off the tongue with an unfamiliar bitterness. It's the kind of term you'd see in a crossword puzzle, nestled between "clandestine" and "malevolent." You never imagined it would be splashed across news headlines with your family's name and the face of your father in the centre.

For years, your family was among the shining stars of Figure 8, leaders in hospitality, prestige, and wealth. Your home was the epicenter of elegance, the heartbeat of social galas. But now, news vans line the perimeter of your estate, their cameras hungry for a glimpse of the fallen dynasty. While online vultures, under the guise of investigative websites, sift through every chapter of your family's history.

Naturally, it caused a ripple, and as the waves of the scandal crashed onto the shores of Figure 8 with relentless force, family friends who once sought your company now wrestled with their association to yours. The 'friends' who once envied your galas and soirées now whisper behind closed doors.

It was the talk of every gathering. At lunches, tennis courts, even the marina; your family’s name was whispered with a mix of pity and sensationalism. Every disclosed detail, every leaked piece of evidence, threatens to shatter the glass pedestal upon which your family once stood unchallenged.

Yet, amidst the tempest of rumors and glares, your mother remains the eye of the storm. Resolute and graceful, she doesn't waver. The titan of Figure 8's social scene, she's always known how to command a room, and this scandal won't rob her of that gift.

Tonight, at the Midsummer ball, she's an emblem of defiance against the rising tide of whispers. And she does it so effortlessly. She glides through the crowd with that same charismatic charm. She smiles warmly, asking about children and recent vacations, pets, and passion projects, extending olive branches even when met with frosty receptions and curt replies.

You, however, are not as composed. The weight of judgmental gazes is too suffocating, the murmurs too piercing. The confines of the ball, with its glittering chandeliers and faux smiles, become a prison. With each passing moment, the walls seem to close in further. You need air. A moment of solitude. An escape from the suffocating pretense.

Whispering a quick excuse to your mother about needing the powder room, you slip away. The soft hum of the party fades behind you as you venture down a paved stone path, leading to the beach. The cool breeze and rhythmic waves provide solace, a stark contrast to the stifling ambiance of the party.

You had taken off the flower crown your mother had insisted you wear and were about to remove your shoes when you heard it: the soft crunch of footsteps on sand, drawing closer.

Hesitantly, you turned, finding him. The one whose eyes often sought yours in a crowd. Whose lingering gazes you'd always felt but habitually ignored. The same person who continually asked you out, oftentimes rudely and crudely. The one you had rejected, rebuffed, and shut down more times than you could count.

Rafe Cameron.

"Came to rub salt in my wounds?" you asked, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.

"Now why would I want to do such a thing?" Rafe murmured. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it between his lips. The soft flicker of the lighter momentarily illuminated his face, revealing a brief smirk before the darkness cloaked him again. "I thought you might appreciate some company instead."

The word 'appreciate' ricocheted around your mind, sounding almost absurd in this situation. Company? From Rafe Cameron? The notorious Kook King of Figure 8, a classic case book narcissist who, you were certain, had probably raised a toast to the scandal engulfing your family. At this moment, you'd rather eat glass than accept his sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the sea, barely acknowledging his presence.

“I'm not in the mood to talk, Rafe," your voice steady but seething with restrained frustration. Your eyes remained locked onto the undulating waves before you. The smell of sea-salt filled your nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, you felt at peace. It lasts all of two seconds before Rafe opens his mouth again.

"Fine, I'll talk. You listen," he asserts, as he settles against a rock. He leisurely inhales from his cigarette before blowing out a plume of smoke into the night air. You can feel his contemplative gaze on you; it becomes evident in the softened timbre of his voice when he speaks again. “You know, it's downright shitty what they're doing to your dad. To your family. To you... I can't stand by and watch."

A scornful laugh escapes you as you finally meet his gaze. "Well, life's not exactly handing out fairness certificates, is it?"

He shook his head, "No, it isn’t. But, it still doesn't make it right. It doesn’t make it fair when your dad claims he’s innocent—”

“My dad is innocent,” you assert fiercely, standing tall, arms crossed defiantly over your chest.

“Oh, I believe he is. But the world? Not so much. Your dad’s always been good to my family. My old man took it hard when he heard. I mean, of all the people on Figure 8 to be arrested for embezzlement, your dad was the last person anyone would suspect—”

“What's your point, Rafe?” You snapped, clearly about to lose the last shred of patience you had.

"I’ve been thinking about it alot, and maybe my family can help.”

Skepticism etched itself clear as day on your face. It seemed ironic that Rafe felt his family could help when Rose and Ward shunned your parents the moment the news broke.

“And how do you propose to do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with mistrust.

Rafe shrugged, a casual gesture that contradicted the gravity of the situation. "My dad, he's got connections—”

“So do mine,” you shot back.

“But did yours play golf with Senator Whitfield every Saturday? Rain or shine? Nah, didn’t think so.”

You felt a moment of silence envelop you both, the distant murmurs of the sea a constant reminder of the world moving around you.

"Alright, I'll bite," you said with a lick of your lips. "What do you want in return? You're clearly not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Rafe flicked his cigarette onto the sand, extinguishing it with a deliberate twist of his shoe. As he stepped closer, moonlight illuminated his eyes, giving them an almost predatory glow.

“You've got me," he admitted, his smirk devoid of warmth. “I do want something in return. Something that has been on my mind. Something I’ve wanted for a long time now. You."

A shiver raced down your spine, a cocktail of revulsion and trepidation. Retreating a step, your voice quivered but remained defiant.

"So, you're after a date?" You clarified, eyes narrowing. The same date he'd pestered you for, relentlessly, over the past year. The same date you'd denied him repeatedly, because despite being handsome, Rafe Cameron's moral compass seemed nonexistent.

Rafe scratched his ear as he moved slowly toward you, his expression pained as though what he was about to reveal would hurt him far more than it would hurt you.

"Yeah, see, a date won't begin to cover what I'm risking for your old man, given his rap sheet is longer than my arm. No, what I want is far more... rewarding," his voice sank to a sultry whisper as he towered over you.

"And what would that be?" you asked, tension crackling in the air between you.

"I want to be able to fuck you whenever and however I want—for a month, maybe two, perhaps even a year..." he shrugged slowly, "The specifics are negotiable, but doesn't that sound fair? A little pussy in exchange for your dad's freedom?”

The slap was instinctual. Swift. The sting on your palm matched only by the shock on Rafe's face. For a split second, everything was still.

Rafe's eyes turned to steel, his demeanor shifting chillingly in a heartbeat. He closed in, his voice a venomous whisper slicing through the salty sea air. "You must have a death wish" he hissed, an unmistakable dangerous edge to his words. His hand gingerly brushed his reddening jaw, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. "Your dad's freedom? It's dangling by the thinnest thread... The right words from a senator could decide whether he walks free or becomes someone's bitch behind bars."

He paused, his gaze falling to the flower crown in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to touch it, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate petals, an almost gentle gesture that was jarringly at odds with the tension of the moment.

"If you want to help your dad, having a friend like me might be your best bet." he murmured. "Think it over, yeah?" His gaze lifted back to yours, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you whispered, disgust fueled your retreat as you stormed away, his chilling laugh echoing ominously in the night air.

"You will, princess. When you come to your senses, you will."

Rafe's lingering words pressed on you, growing heavier with each breath. The looming possibility of your father's life behind bars became ever more ominous as Rafe presented a potential solution—a solution with an inconceivable price tag.

How could he even insinuate such a thing? The mere suggestion repulsed you, igniting a fury at Rafe's audacity. Yet the unease gnawing at your belly made you question: to what lengths would you go to save your dad? With your family facing disgrace and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, Rafe's proposal offered a faint glimmer of hope, even if it took the ugliest of forms.

In the solitude of your bedroom, the pristine walls seemed to close in, just like the midsummer ball. Picking up your phone, you stared at the screen, the bright white light harsh against the dim setting. The contacts list stared back, an overwhelming list of names, none of whom had reached out during your family's time of need.

You scrolled, hesitating briefly before landing on Rafe's name. A whirlwind of emotions — from anger to desperation — consumed you as you pressed on it. Trembling fingers typed, deleted, and retyped a message multiple times, finally settling on the simplest of words.

"We need to talk."

Almost immediately, three dots danced on the screen.

"Tomorrow 7pm, Tannyhill.”

Was Rafe’s curt response.

You could barely sleep that night, as your mind raced, forming what you hoped was a semblance of a plan. You needed to negotiate on your terms, to retain some shred of dignity. It wasn't a detailed strategy, but it was enough to at least get through Rafe's offer with your sanity.

The next day as you approached Tannyhill, you whispered silent affirmations to yourself, reaffirming your resolve, your worth, and the necessity of your mission.

And then, there he was. Rafe Cameron, leaning casually against the frame of the ornate door, a picture of wealth and arrogance, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the impending darkness of the evening.

Rafe opened the door for you, his face betraying a flicker of something you couldn't quite read, but there was no turning back now. You stepped in, ready to negotiate with the devil himself if it meant saving your family.

"Where's everyone?" you asked, there was no point in exchanging pleasantries. Nothing about the situation was remotely pleasant.

"Movies. You know, I hadn't expected a text from you so soon." his voice dripped with condescension, "I was betting on at least a week or two."

"Yeah well, it is my dad's life on the line," your footsteps echoed with purpose as you followed him into the living room, eyes steeling for the battle ahead. "The sooner we finalize our agreement, the quicker you can pull whatever strings you have, right?"

Rafe spun around, his gaze locking onto yours. The sly curve of his lips unsettling. "Sure, I’ll make a few calls,” he stated, voice dark and sardonic, "but it'll depend on the terms we agree to."

"Alright…” you braced yourself, your arms folded trying to regain control. "Let's start with how lon--"

“A year,” Rafe cut in, not breaking eye contact.

"That's out of the question. A month," you shot back.

His chuckle resonated with an underlying seriousness, his eyes narrowing in focus "Sure, we can say a month. You willing to fuck me at least twice a day? No? Then eleven."

You straightened your back, your resolve hardening. "Two months, tops."

His eyes gleamed as he considered your counteroffer. "How about this, we keep our little arrangement going until your dad's free. It could be a month, maybe two…” he shrugged nonchalantly “It might even be a year. It depends on how soon he’s out. What do you think?"

You hesitated, visibly weighing the implications of such an open-ended commitment. Your dad’s charges were serious. The chances of those charges disappearing and him being released in a month seemed like a miracle. "What if it drags on for years?" you whispered.

Rafe’s grin grew more pronounced, relishing your distress. "Well, princess, that's for you to decide. You can always walk away whenever you think it’s unbearable. Does that seem fair?"

"Okay, fine. Now about condoms--”

“Not using them--”

“Oh, we’re using them. I’m not interested in having your kid, Rafe, and I’m certainly not interested in catching anything from you.”

“While I should be fucking insulted” he said dryly “I always glove up and get tested regularly too.”

“Okay, so why are you suddenly against using condoms with me, then?”

“Because I promised myself…” he said slowly, his voice lowering as he made his way towards you, “If I ever got the chance to fuck you, I'd do it raw.”

Your jaw clicked, your hands itching to slap him again. “Weren’t you fooling around with Letizia a couple of weeks back?”

“Yeah, so? I was gloved up.”

“I don't care. You've slept with half the girls on figure 8. I want you fully tested before we even think about doing anything. Condoms every time, no excuses.”

“Alright. I’ll get tested. Condoms while fucking, no condoms for blowjobs.”

"Yeah, about that, I'm not doing oral.'” you said folding your arms in resignation.

Rafe's eyes bore into yours, annoyance coloring his features.

"No. No. You don’t get to dictate how I fuck you." he snapped, his voice taking on edge of authority. "Look, i’m willing to let you negotiate a few terms, give you some semblance of control but it’s got to be worth my while, and for it to be worth it, I get to fuck you how I want, when I want.”

You swallowed, feeling your resolve waver.

"Now, here's what I want to make this deal work: when I call, you answer. No matter the place, no matter the time. You show up. Clear?" Rafe said.

You paused before giving a hesitant nod, the magnitude of your agreement dawning on you.

"And if I ask you to wear something specific, you will. No questions. We have a deal?"

Your throat tightened as his demands began to overwhelm you, but you managed a brief nod in response.

"Remember, fail to meet my terms, and our deal ends. Understood?"

Another nod.

"Anything else?"

“When will you make the call?” you asked quickly.

“After our first session,” he proposed, his smile revealing a hint of anticipation. “After that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure your dad’s free”

" I want proof. I want proof that you’d stick to your part of the deal.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

“Good." you said as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Get tested and send me the results," you responded, you're tone neutral, treating it as a standard business transaction. "I'll do the same. We can then choose a time and date."

Rafe nodded in agreement, his gaze intense and piercing.

You extended your hand towards him.

"What's that for?" he chuckled lowly.

"A handshake. To seal the deal."

Rafe reached out, his arms enveloping you in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling you against him. It took everything within you to not push him away.

"How about we seal this deal with a kiss, hmm?" he murmured, "Especially since we'll be doing a lot more than kissing very soon."

Rafe leaned in, letting his lips graze yours. But you stiffened, instinctively tilting your head so that his lips met your cheek instead. A soft chuckle escaped him as he retreated just a fraction.

“Ah ah” he chided. With his fingers gently but firmly cradling your jaw, he directed your face back to his, an unsettling tension growing palpable between you.

"Play. Nice.” he whispered, his voice considerably smug. "Kiss me. Like you mean it." It wasn't a mere request; it was a command that left you feeling completely cornered.

A battle of wills ensued; neither of you making the first move, both of you waiting for the other to blink first. Rafe's eyes never left your own as he leaned in once again, his determination clear.

His tongue gently pushed past your parted lips, and you allowed it, setting off a delicate yet conflicting dance between your tongues and lips.

Groaning into your mouth, his eyes shut as the kiss deepened, carrying an undeniable intensity. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at your tender flesh until his tongue lashed hungrily against yours sending a peculiar mix of tingles and dread coursing through you.

Finally, you pulled away from the kiss, catching your breath while your chest heaved. Rafe remained close, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breathing matching your intensity.

"I'll get tested first thing tomorrow," he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and desire. "Make sure you do, too."

"All clear."

That was the message Rafe sent you two days after your heated conversation, accompanied by a screengrab of his test results. Without hesitation, you replied, sending him your own results in return.

As your fingers tapped across the screen, a surge of disgust washed over you. The very idea of being intimate with Rafe was anything but appealing; it fact, it made you feel sick.

You'd never choose Rafe of your own volition. Sure he was handsome but his excessive drinking and drug habits were repellant, and his disdain and bullying nature towards the Pogues was disturbing. None of his qualities were remotely attractive, let alone fuckable.

But then, the stern, resilient part of you asserted itself, urging you to focus on the goal at hand.

This was not about you or Rafe; it was about orchestrating your father's release from prison, a critical mission where failure wasn't an option. With this clear objective ingrained in your mind, you steeled your resolve, preparing yourself for what lay ahead.

When he proposed meeting up that same night, you didn't find it strange given Rafe's impulsive nature. However, the location he suggested did catch you off guard.

It wasn't Tannyhill, the somewhat familiar and comfortable place you had anticipated, but instead, an unfamiliar address. The randomness of the location set off tiny alarms in the back of your mind, making you wary but you took a deep breath, quickly typing out your response-

"I'll be there."

It wasn't just any random address, as you initially thought.

At the front of a gated tree-lined drive stood a prominent sign declaring, “Cameron Developments.” The freshly poured concrete and stacks of lumber clearly indicated that it was a home under renovation.

As you made your way along the winding path, unease gripped you, but the sight of Rafe’s truck haphazardly parked near the entrance reassured you that you had indeed reached the right place.

The estate was draped in an unsettling darkness, punctuated only by the soft chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sporadic glow of work lights from inside, hinting at the ongoing renovations.

Exiting your car, you took a moment to absorb the scene before approaching the house. With each step towards the porch, your heart rate quickened. But before you could even announce your presence, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the looming presence of Rafe.

His expression, obscured by the shadows and dim work lights from within, gave away nothing. Without a word, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter, then closed the door and locked it.

A knot formed in your throat, a cocktail of dread and adrenaline. Pushing the mounting fear aside, you gathered your voice, attempting to sound braver than you felt. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said.

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Rafe's lips. You felt an icy dread settle in your chest. "Oh, we will," he murmured, "But first, I want to play a game... to make things... interesting." The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.

"One minute" he said, as he cracked his neck from side to side, his eyes boring into you. "You get a one-minute head start and after that, after that--" he sighed happily "I'm coming for you. Run."

Panic gripped you. "Run? What? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean run?" you stammered, your voice edged with rising panic.

But his eyes were cold, devoid of humor or empathy. He leaned closer, his voice a menacing hiss that left no room for interpretation. "Run."

A rush of adrenaline hit you, and without another word, you sprinted past him as if your very life depended on it.

You had no clear destination in mind, only the primal instinct to run and hide. Every fiber of your being was attuned to survival. Heart pounding in your chest, you sprinted up the grand staircase, taking the steps three at a time, feeling the weight of your own desperation in every leap.

At the top, a maze of doors and hallways stretched out before you. You lunged for the nearest one, finding yourself in a dimly lit bedroom freshly painted in white. Shadows danced on the walls from the solitary work light, and your gaze immediately snapped to a closet on your right.

Without hesitation, you slipped inside, gently closing the door behind you. The smell of paint and cedar filled your nostrils. Placing a trembling hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle the sound of your heavy, ragged breathing.

Gently, so as not to make a sound, you nudged the slatted shutter doors of the closet closed, leaving only thin slivers of the room visible – distorted, but enough to keep watch.

The ominous sound of footsteps reached your ears; they were methodical, unhurried. Rafe was searching, savoring the hunt. You watched in horror as his elongated shadow, cast by the work light, drifted across the closet. A cold sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to fight back the urge to gasp as the shadow paused momentarily by the closet doors.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved away, and you heard his footsteps retreating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, you gave yourself a moment to gather your bearings. But you knew all too well you couldn't remain hidden for long; he would inevitably retrace his steps and find you.

Gathering your courage, you carefully eased the closet doors open and quickly scanned the room for an escape route. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you made your move. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you tiptoed across the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards that might betray your presence. But the moment you stepped out of the bedroom, you collided with a solid mass.

Rafe's eyes pierced through to your soul, pure hunger reflected in them as he stared down at you. His hand clamped around your throat, pulling you close as the smell of your fear and his cologne filled your nostrils in a nauseating mix. His lips crushed against yours, ravaging your mouth with an intensity that nearly made you faint.

As your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, you frantically writhed in his grip. Your fists relentlessly pounded against his arm, trying to get him to relinquish his hold on you, but it was no use. In one swift motion, Rafe backed you into the bedroom and forcefully dragged you to the floor, your fingers wildly clawing at his arm as you searched for any type of leverage you could find.

Rafe ravished your neck with unbridled hunger, his other hand violently tugged at your skirt and panties, scraping the skin of your thighs until finding your moist center—the slippery wetness signifying your surrender to pleasure. Rafe groaned as his fingertips slid through your slick folds and into you causing you to gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure.

"For someone who's only doing this to save their dad, you're soaked..." Rafe laughed breathlessly, trailing a line of wet kisses up your throat. "All that sanctimonious bullshit about what you will and won't do and look at you, fucking dripping for my cock—”

"Fuck you!" you screeched, a potent mixture of embarrassment and venomous rage coursing through you has you writhing beneath him, your determination to push him off almost frantic.

"That's it—fight back," he jeered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fight back. It'll make this all the more satisfying."

You kicked and screamed, only for Rafe to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands connected your wrists together over your head. In a single move, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled you from behind, his erection pressing against your ass.

One of Rafe's hands tears off your panties, your screams in protest seize immediately as Rafe stuffed the flimsy cotton into your mouth.

"There" he taunted with a sinister chuckle, pressing you down further as you desperately attempted to wriggle free. You strained to let out a scream, your voice stifled by the makeshift gag.

That same hand worked feverishly to free himself from his pants. You could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at the cleft of your ass. Could hear him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth, the necessary prelude to satiating his ever-growing hunger.

Not too long after he was grinding the head of his cock against your wetness while you fought to express your protests through the gag.

"No, no, this is what we've agreed to. What you agreed to..." Rafe's breath hitched as his cock slid over your weeping slit. With one hard, raw thrust, barely allowing you time to adjust to his girth, he plunged himself deep inside you.

He wasted no time, immediately beginning his relentless thrusts, utterly indifferent to your muffled struggles behind the gag. Your body writhed beneath his weight, your movements punctuated by desperate grunts, the hardwood floor beneath you offering no mercy.

After a brief moment, Rafe released your wrists and drew you closer, his grip on your hips unwavering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting force. Your head spun as you gradually surrendered to the powerful cadence of his movements. His hands clung to you possessively, guiding both of you in a desperate, synchronized dance. Every nerve in your body ignited, primal heat surging from deep within.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your body succumbed to his unyielding force. Despite the freedom of your hands, you found yourself paralyzed, incapable of resisting or offering any form of resistance. Instead, you relinquished control, allowing Rafe to claim you entirely.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he growled through gritted teeth, his tempo increasing to a punishing pace.

You weakly shook your head, 'no,' your determination unwavering as you fought to maintain control over your desires. The mere thought of your pleasure becoming entangled with his, sullied and exploited for his depraved fantasies, was something you could not bear.

"Oh, you'll cum-" he sneered.

In a sudden, ominous gesture, he swiftly removed his leather belt from its loop around his pants and coiled it around your neck, pulling and winding it tightly around his fist.

"If you want to breathe, you'll cum," he snarled, pounding you with relentless force. The room was filled only with the sound of your choked gasps for air, Rafe's ragged breaths, the creak of the leather as he tightened his grip, and the rhythmic punishing slap of his hips against your flesh. You fought with every ounce of your being not to succumb to your impending orgasm, tears streaming uncontrollably from your eyes as you waged a futile battle.

The room reverberated with your agonised screams as your orgasm consumed you. Your muscles tensed and quivered beneath you, each wave of pleasure crashed over you like a violent tsunami drowning you. Your fingers clawed at the belt constricting your throat, the leather biting into your skin and to your abject horror, you were gushing around his cock as you climaxed.

Rafe fucked you harder, burying his face in the back of your neck. With a triumphant roar, Rafe's orgasm struck, and he shuddered against you, muffling his moans of pleasure into your skin as he stuffed his cock deep.

Sated and content, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and laboured, the condom filled with his cum. After a moment, he withdrew and shifted to lie beside you.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you managed to free yourself from the tight confines of the belt and the stifling gag that had cruelly silenced you. Every fiber of your being, every muscle in your body, screamed with raw pain as you gulped in fresh air, each breath feeling like a hard-won victory. Tears of relief and anguish streamed down your face, and with a shaky hand, you hastily brushed them away.

The room seemed to sway, a disorienting blend of fear, relief, and vertigo threatening to drag you into terrifying darkness.

Yet, slicing through the fog of your distress was the haunting sound of Rafe's laughter. His voice was breathless, yet unmistakably gleeful. His fingers, dampened with sweat, raked through his messy hair, highlighting his heightened state of manic exhilaration.

"Next time," he grinned, a chilling promise lacing his words, "Next time, we'll use rope."

--------------

Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️

[myerssimp21]

Jason Todd, Hot Neighbor (YAN!Pt.2)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam Part 2. Part 1 is Tim getting aphrodisiac'd by Ivy and desperately coming over to Darling's apartment, getting it on her. Hot neighbor!Jason hears them fucking and comes over, jealous. Part 1, Part 3: here

Still reeling from Tim's sudden departure after one of the most intense sexual encounters you'd ever had, you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that washed over you. There was a sense of sadness lingering in the air, a twinge of disappointment that he couldn't stick around a little longer.

The word that kept echoing in your mind was "used". You didn't want to admit it, but that's how you felt deep down. You wanted to believe that Tim had a valid reason for leaving so abruptly, that there was something important waiting for him elsewhere. But a nagging voice in your head whispered doubts, reminding you that you were important too.

On one hand, you wanted to extend an olive branch, to give Tim the benefit of the doubt and assume the best of him. But on the other, you couldn't shake the feeling of being disposable, of being cast aside after serving his purpose. He had seemed so sorry to leave, he'd apologized and promised to make it up to you, but you needed the emotional aftercare badly.

It was a bitter pill to swallow; that someone could be so desperate to be with you one moment and then leave without a second thought. It made you feel cheap and dirty. It felt as if your worth was measured solely by your ability to fulfill someone else's desires. These feelings were made worse when you realized your sex had somehow left you still impossibly aroused; as if the two orgasms Tim pulled from you were inconsequential. It was like your cunt forgot it had barely pulled off the second orgasm in a row.

The conflicted feelings and the growing desire settling in your body together, you experimentally snuck a finger into your underwear as you stood there in your bedroom, eyes widening at the sloppy wetness that was there despite Tim using a condom. You were still aroused- you felt your heartbeat quicken at the realization.

Heartbeat beginning to pound at the thought of whimpering on a vibrator soon, a faint hope flickered in your chest as you heard another knock at the door. You couldn't help but wonder if it was Tim again, returning to offer some explanation or just to be with you a little longer. You honestly hoped it was Tim so he could chase away the lingering sense of emptiness that had settled in your chest. Neglecting to wash your hands this time, you staggered over to the door.

As you pulled it open though, Jason's tall form greeted you, stance confident and looming over you. His presence radiated authority and self-control, a stark contrast to Tim's frantic approach. Seeing him wearing a shirt for the first time, you remember you're not wearing pants, pathetically hiding your nudity behind the door with only your clothed torso exposed.

"Hey there," Jason's voice was smooth, his tone laced with a hint of something you couldn't quite place—"I couldn't help but notice some... interesting sounds coming from your place," Jason's words were carefully chosen, his tone easy-going but his eyes dangerously sharp. "Thought I'd check in and see who's been keeping you busy tonight."

You find yourself at a loss for words, stunned by the realization that Jason not only heard you with Tim but also has the audacity to expect you to disclose who you were with. Tears begin to prickle in your eyes as you grapple with the unfairness of the situation. If only Tim had stayed for some form of aftercare, you wouldn't feel so utterly lost right now.

"You've been getting to know someone else, haven't you?" Jason's tone carries a blend of amusement and feigned curiosity, as if he already knows the answer but is daring you to admit it. It's as though he's challenging you to reveal the truth.

Your silence seems to irritate him, and a sneer plays at the corners of his lips as he leans in slightly, effortlessly invading your personal space. Because he's so confidently moving in, you don't think before opening the door more and exposing your nudity thoughtlessly. His eyes quickly scan your form and his sneer morphs into a mean smile at the sight. The realization that you've allowed these power dynamics to spiral out of control, allowing unspoken boundaries to be trampled, makes your tears bigger as he draws closer, threatening to drop.

"Lost for words, are we?" Jason's voice held a note of mockery, "It's funny how the most vocal sluts so often have the least to say when it comes to the truth."

You couldn't help but feel shame wash over you. The brutal way he spoke down to you left you almost shocked into submission; as if his words made you want to bow your head and eagerly do as he said. The overpowering scent Tim carried that you caught when you'd buried your nose into his neck still had you dizzy, your heartbeat throbbing and beginning to ache in your cunt. It was so dangerous to let Jason bully you into what you knew he wanted, especially after Tim had left you feeling so dejected and empty with his quick escape, but you were still desperately needy both physically and emotionally.

"Maybe you should worry less about who's been keeping me busy and more about how you can keep up."

It's confident at face value, but those tears are still threatening to spill and your voice is too quiet to convey self-assurance, betraying your shaky invitation.

There's a beat before Jason wordlessly invites himself in and you feel a sinking sensation beginning to form in the pit of your stomach. His silent actions speak volumes, locking the door behind him as he steps in and his body firmly presses against yours. The click of the lock sends a chill down your spine, a stark reminder that this is no longer just a tense exchange at the doorway.

You’re sure he can feel you trembling when he dips his head down to attach his lips to your neck, exhaling loudly when you melt into it. You’re certain he can tell you’re shaky when both his arms reach up to support you as soon as he’s locked the door behind him, holding you steady as he turns out the harsh kitchen light Tim neglected when he ran out. The only other source of light is softly spilling out from the bedroom from your lamp, lightly enveloping you two in a serene glow.

“We can stop anytime you want,” he says gently and more tears well up in your eyes at how fucking soft he sounds in comparison to how mean he just was, “just say it and I’ll listen.”

You sniffle back more tears that come out when he begins rubbing circles into your back, feeling frustrated that your body hasn’t caught the hint you’re not quite in the mood. The physical discomfort that has you convinced only orgasm will relieve it is hard to explain.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jason,” you whimper, “I need this but my headspace is fucked.”

As you speak, you can feel Jason's arms tightening around you, offering comfort and support amid your confusion. You struggle to make sense of the conflicting desires coursing through your body, the overwhelming need for release clouding your thoughts.

Then you’re trying to keep your knees from giving out when his lips return to your neck, alternating between sharply nibbling and sucking the skin there.

“I’ll take care of you,” he breathily promises, one of his large hands snaking into your panties to rub your labia up and down as he guided you both into your bedroom. Shudders erupted over your skin when he eased you onto the bed to crawl above you, a grin on his face again as he pulled it away from your neck, "even if you've broken my heart."

"Jason-" you begin, pouting up at him, overwhelmed by the sensations and confusing signals from him, "You-"

He didn't let you finish your protests, covering your mouth with his in an obscenely lewd kiss as a finger slipped into you. The embarrassingly loud, low moan involuntarily spilling out onto the tongue now exploring your mouth makes him pull away and laugh, slowly pumping his finger.

"Did you let him cum in you?," he asks, sounding accusatory, the mocking grin glinting back at you, "You're so sloppy down here."

"He didn't!" You whine, aware he's being degrading again but knowing you're too far gone in committing to this pleasure to care, "I just... I need you that much, Jason."

He falters fingering you to process what you've just said to him, and your eyes search his expression, trying to figure out what he's thinking. The thrill of not knowing makes you clench down on him, squirming underneath him as your desperation grows.

"Please don't make me beg," you whine again, sure you sound pathetic, "Jason, plea-!"

You're cut off again, this time by the sensation of a second finger slipping in, pumping steadily as he attaches himself to your neck once more, biting and sucking as you moan in relief. You can't help but squeeze on his fingers at every sensation, feeling the painful tingling of arousal slowly ebb away with each dedicated movement of his. Quickly any pain is replaced with a building need for release and you close your eyes, focused on how good the friction of the finger-fucking feels.

It's increasingly apparent to you that you're in your bedroom with Jason. He's the hot neighbor you never imagined would be between your legs teasing you like this, smirking down at you like he was Satan. But here he is, sweetly giving you exactly what you want, exactly what you need.

He suddenly stops pumping them, pulling them out wordlessly and your eyes fly open in the absence. Before you can protest or do anything other than make frustrated eye contact and whine, he sinks them back in and pauses before wiggling them inside you in a way that makes your hips buck up against him with an even helplessly louder moan.

"There we go," he murmurs contentedly when you instinctively grab for anything when he moves like this again, settling on squeezing his bicep as it flexed with his fingering, "There's my good girl. You're so responsive to me, aren't you?"

"J-Jason," you whimper, your voice already breathless and needy as his fingers work their magic and you feel yourself approaching your climax. "Can I please cum?"

As soon as you ask it, the shame rushes through again. You didn't mean to sound so pathetic, but Jason's attitude makes you feel like you should ask him for permission with the way he's acted about Tim coming over and because it's him bringing you to the edge right now.

Jason's lips curve into a knowing smirk as he feels the immediate shift in your demeanor, sensing your embarrassment even as your body continues to respond to his touch.

"Did you just ask for permission?" he teases with his voice low and husky as he continues to pleasure you, slowing his strokes and gently placing his thumb onto your clit to rub circles, "How obedient of you, begging for release like a good little pet."

His words send a flush of heat to your cheeks, the embarrassment mingling with the added pleasure coursing through you.

"I-I didn't mean to," you stammer, your voice barely a whisper as you struggle to find the right words amidst all the overwhelming stimuli, "It's just... I can't control..."

Jason's smirk widens at your embarrassed stammering, relishing in the power he holds over you in this moment of vulnerability.

"Didn't think I'd have you begging for permission so soon," he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he continues to tease you. "Makes me wonder... did you ask the other guy for permission too?"

Your cheeks somehow burn even hotter at the mention of Tim, the memory of his presence earlier adding another layer of shame to your already flushed face.

"I-I didn't," you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears. "I didn't need to..."

"Of course you didn't," he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because I'm the only one who can make you feel this way, aren't I? And you know what? I'll make you forget about him," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "I'll make you forget about everything except how good I can make you feel."

"Move up and face that way," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he guides you into a new position. "I want to see you from a different angle."

You comply without question, too caught up in desire to protest. Little do you know, you're playing right into Jason's hands, completely unaware of the surveillance cameras placed at strategic areas of your apartment and bedroom capturing every intimate moment between the two of you for the voyeuristic pleasure of the BatFamily. His movements are carefully calculated to get a better angle for the cameras hidden throughout your apartment, so he can prove to Tim that he fucks you better.

Suddenly, Jason shifts his position, dipping down between your legs with a predatory gleam in his eyes. His hot breath fans across your sensitive skin, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You muster the nerve to peer down at him and feel faint at the sight of such a gorgeous man hovering over your pussy, looking devilishly up at you.

"J..." you whimper, your voice barely a whisper as you feel his lips begin to press against your most intimate place. The sensation makes you gasp in surprise and instinctively try to shut your legs. He uses a big arm to keep your legs spread so his head and hands had room, his warm mouth alternating between flicking at your clit and sucking on it while his fingers were buried in you. While you can't pry him off if you wanted to, the grip you have on his hair with both hands helps you feel more grounded and gives you something to squeeze when he sucks hickeys into your labia lips.

You cry out his name when your orgasm finally hits, tugging on his hair to pull him as close as you can to your pussy as he bottoms his fingers out in you and sucks at your throbbing clit.

He laughs as he pops off your pussy, "How many orgasms is that for you tonight, baby?"

Your head is spinning and a new ache is growing in the depths of your pussy. You hiss when he slowly removes his fingers, trying to answer him, "Um, maybe three?"

"Mmmm" he practically purrs, crawling back on top of you and covering your mouth with a deep kiss you hadn't expected before pulling away to smile at you, "Being able to still count them means you haven't had enough yet."

You giggle but whine when he's back to nibbling at your neck again, hearing his clothes rustle while he distracts you with kisses, "Jason, you have to wear a condom. They're next to my bed in the dresser."

He lifts his head to glance over to the dresser, "No, they're not. They're on top of it. You and him used two earlier?"

"It-" your ear tips are warm again, "It doesn't matter."

"Right." Jason says and it frustrates you that he still seems slightly peeved about Tim's visit earlier. His body hovers over you as he cranes for the condoms and he chuckles, bringing one of your vibrators into your view underneath him, "I want to see you get ready for me on this while I put this on," he gives you a look like he means business that sends shivers down your spine, "and it better be your favorite setting."

Closing your eyes and trying to not worry about the intense warm feeling spreading across your body in throbbing sensations, you expertly start and find your favorite setting on the sex toy, whining when you find the best spot near your clit. Some part of you is screaming at your decision to close your eyes; it's better for you to focus on what he said in this head-heavy state, but you're also screaming at yourself, begging yourself to just peek at what Mr. Hot Neighbor is packing. Something tells you it'll make the brain fog happening in your head worse.

The sounds of latex and skin quiet down and his lips are back on yours, hotter and heavier than any other. Or maybe that's just how you're seeing it? Your eyes fly open when you feel it bumping against your thigh and your wide eyes meet his teasing ones when he pulls away from the sweaty kiss, smiling down at you.

"How do you want it?"

"...I like it from behind," you shyly state, yelping in surprise when he promptly grabs you by the waist and roughly flips you onto your stomach. It would make sense that all those muscles would be good for something after all. He dips down to nibble on your ear tip and lays some of his bulky weight on you and you feel his penis pressing against your ass.

"What do you like about it?" He asks, and you feel weak and tremble as he grabs your hips and firmly pulls them up so they're flush against his pelvis, hard penis slowly rubbing against your cunt.

You want him to fuck you so badly, and it makes you feel pathetic and slutty given Tim had been here earlier.

"Jason-" Your bratty tone is cut off by him laying a hard smack onto your ass, and you jump in his grasp.

"Answer me or I'm not putting it in," he growls.

"That it's a deep position and it makes me feel full," you confess, feeling feverish from your need, "Please please fuck me."

"Hmmm," he hums, hesitating. In frustration, you wiggle your butt against him, rubbing yourself on his dick in impatience, "Is that it?"

"Why are you being so mean," you pout, attitude dissolving when you feel him prodding against your entrance and gasp, "Jeez, you're big."

"I know you can take it," he says and begins easing it in. You stare down at the blankets your hands are wildly gripping and moan while his entry begins stretching you open, "I'd bet you even like the pain, don't you?"

"Yes and I-I-" you feel like you can't even breathe until he's all the way in, "I can't believe you're so big." You're feeling increasingly dizzy as he slowly inches his way in, feeling a weird static-y sensation building up in your head as he eases into you.

The orgasm hits almost as soon as he bottoms out, and your body begins involuntarily twitching with each throb of your pussy clenching around him. The stimulation is getting to be too much but your moans are loud and lustful as he helps you ride out your climax on him, gripping your hips tightly to keep you glued on his dick. He keeps you plugged up with himself as you twitch on him until you finally stop cumming, trying to catch your breath underneath him after it tore through you.

The silence and stillness is broken by wet sex sounds as he begins thrusting, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back in decidedly. The pace is slow but each thrust makes you feel like you're possessed when you throw your head back and moan at the sounds, feeling your vision blur.

"Oh," he coos, "would'ya look at that?"

His big hand comes up to wipe at your face and he shows you the drool he just dragged off your chin. His hand disappears from your view and you hear him suck on his fingers, pulling them off with an audible 'pop'. The thought of Jason sucking your spit off his fingers makes you shudder and he feels you clench on his dick like mad again.

"Oh, fuck, just like that, baby," he whines and you whimper in reaction to how fucking good Jason sounds when he whines for you, "Take me just like that."

His pace is faster but he's fucking you just as hard, his fingers digging into your sides as he grips you and pounds you down on him like you were a toy. Feeling yourself inching towards another orgasm, you start whining and repeat to him over and over that it's coming.

"I know," he manages through his grunts, ramming into you now at his own vicious pace, "I'm so close, I know you can cum with me, you can do one more."

Then all at once, as he climaxes and pushes himself all the way in, you feel yourself snap and you spasm on him with your final orgasm, crying out with each pulsing sensation. His moan is choked as you cum with him, and his hips lightly jolt with each twitch of his dick as he empties into the condom. As he and you both come down from your highs, the hands that were gripping your waist slink up and he embraces you from behind, using his weight to ease you down until you're lying on your stomach and he's atop you, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, "You're shaking so badly right now."

"I-I'm just..." it's hard for you to finish your sentence. How are you supposed to tell him Tim left without aftercare, you just had more orgasms in one night than you ever had before, and you were scared of how your relationships with both would fare after this night?

"Here, hang on," he says and his weight lifts off of you. His dick slowly begins to slide out of you and you hiss at the sensation, feeling tears spring into your eyes at the settling throbbing pain.

"Woah, hey," Jason's voice breaks through the haze of pain and exhaustion, his touch gentle as he helps you shift from lying on your stomach to settling in his lap. His thumb brushes away a stray tear that escapes your eye. "Tell me what's wrong. Was I too rough?"

You shake your head before he even finishes asking, fighting to keep your voice steady despite the tremble in your bottom lip. "No, you're fine, thank you," you manage, your gaze dropping to your hands. "I'm just tired and sore."

The lie hangs heavy in the air, and you can sense Jason's skepticism in the silence that follows. But to your relief, he doesn't press further. Instead, he wraps his arms securely around you, pulling you close against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. He rubs slow circles into your back as you sniffle in his arms.

"Hey," he murmurs, "You know you can tell me anything, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

Your mind races with uncertainty. You worry if you're being too vulnerable, too open with him. After all, you haven't known each other for that long, and revealing this level of distress feels scary to you. Summoning a shard of courage, you lift your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze tentatively. His eyes are filled with worry, yet there's a glimmer of relief as you finally meet his gaze through your tears.

"Hey," you begin softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think... could you maybe grab us some water and Advil? Just for now? They're both in the kitchen."

The request feels small in comparison to the weight of your emotions, but it's a start. Without another word, he gently eases you out of his lap, tucks a pillow next to you for your comfort, and stands up. Quickly throwing on his boxers and his shirt, he leaves. Your gaze lingers on his retreating form, admiring his physique and pondering once again how he acquired the scars that litter his torso and upper thighs.

The dull ache in your body becomes more pronounced, each movement sending waves of discomfort rippling through you. You shift on the bed, muscles protesting as you try to find a more comfortable position. A quiet groan escapes your lips, the pain a sharp reminder of the intensity of your recent sexual escapades. It feels like it's been longer than it should be, but you swallow the fear he's left you like Tim did, trusting that he'd come back.

As Jason returns, you feel a twinge of relief wash over you. He's carrying not only the Advil and your reusable bottle of water but also a small bag of cookies, which he sheepishly explains his roommate baked for him. He brought a cup of water from the kitchen for himself, bringing out a packet of powder that he poured in.

"Hey, I've got an extra," he mentions, showing you another packet from his pocket, "If you're game, we could watch a movie or hang out for a bit."

Taking the packet, you see it's an edible drink mix, and your devious grin makes him laugh. Letting him give you his freshly mixed cup, you guzzled it greedily, swallowing a couple painkillers down with it. As he used your water bottle to pour himself a new cup, you tried to stand and instead felt very dizzy, plopping back down on your sheets.

Jason is quick to steady you, "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice again laced with worry.

You manage a weak nod, trying to shake off the dizziness. "Yeah, just need to shake it off," you reply, though you're not entirely convinced yourself.

He stays close, gauging your condition, "What do you need right now?"

You pause, considering your options, "A shower would be good. I think the Advil and the weed will help my pain, but I can't relax if I don't feel clean."

"Okay," he says, "Let's get you over there."

You lean on him for support as you push yourself upright, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. With Jason's arm securely around your waist, he helps ensure you don't stumble or lose your balance on your way through your bedroom to your bathroom.

He hesitates for a brief moment when you get there, his protective instincts kicking in. "I'm not sure leaving you alone right now is the best idea."

"You're right," you concede, feeling a bit shy, "I'd feel safer with you here. Would you mind sticking around? Just in case? I could use the company."

"Absolutely," he affirms, a flicker of intensity in his gaze. "Consider me your personal bodyguard."

It's really less awkward than you thought it might be, with him just helping you step over the tub and closing the curtain behind you. It was honestly a good idea to have him there, since every time you bent over to reach the shampoo or soap up, you'd feel so dizzy you thought you'd fall. You decided to keep it brief, soaping up the necessities and rinsing off quickly while he chatted about his day-to-day. Apparently the cat was a friends and he was watching it for them, his boss was a dick, and his dad was a jerk. You also let him freshen up with an extra toothbrush you kept for visitors, and he laughed since he lived next door and could have gone to clean up over there.

By the time you were done showering, the weed had gotten to both of you and you couldn't hold back inexplicable giggles as you toweled up like he hadn't seen your naked body up close and personal earlier. Feeling less weak but still dizzy, you stumbled back to the bedroom with Jason attached at the hip, collapsing in bed in a fit of laughter at something super dumb he said. Eventually you pulled an oversized t-shirt over your nudity and some panties, dimming the bedroom lights.

He turned on a show you both liked well enough, and you cuddled into his side, yawning. You were almost asleep when he excused himself with a roll of his eyes, gesturing to his ringing phone. Taking the call in the living room and closing the door to not disturb you, you thought you heard him saying "Ivy" or "patrol", but you were really too hazy between the physical exhaustion, the weed, the Advil, and the eventful evening to pay attention to eavesdropping.

When Jason returned to the warm bed, he pulled the sheets up and you settled back into his arms.

"Hey, how are you feeling now?" He asks softly, "Are you still dizzy?"

"Mmm," you groan sleepily, "I feel better now. Why?"

"No reason, just wanted to check," he says, arms gripping a little tighter, "Have sweet dreams, sparrow."

Crinkling your eyebrows in amusement and smiling at the nickname, you fell back asleep quickly.

Part 1, Part 3: here

[lover-of-mine]

it’s so interesting that with previous love interests, it was normal and fine to not ship them and to still want buddie in the future, but now, we have to sit down and shut up and accept that it’s never happening and B/T are forever

oh no wait, it’s not interesting, it’s annoying and confusing and frankly just weird. misogynistic and borderline fetishistic

shipping non-canon couples, especially ones with 6 years of history and love and shared experiences, is the norm in literally every fandom, but now suddenly it’s wrong and how dare we

a fair few of the people saying this are also, conveniently, the ones implying that B’s bisexuality is tied to T and T alone and if we don’t ship them, we don’t support bi!B

how. very. interesting! /annoying/confusing/weird

So interesting. Dude, I got called homophobic because I didn't immediately look at them in 703 and decided they were true love. In 703. Because I didn't look at the shoulder touch and immediately started shipping them. Homophobic with all the letters. I got yelled at. After 703. Legit almost deleted this whole blog over some of the things that got sent. I was legitimately crying with friends who are not in the fandom if I was being unreasonable or insane or whatever else I got called for not jumping in instantly and to ask if I was actually doing something wrong. People were saying we were being weird about queer storylines. That we needed to shut the fuck up and enjoy the way Oliver Stark was gonna make out with a hot guy. That not being on board the ship meant that we had an unreasonable and ridiculous necessity of making sure Eddie was the only guy for Buck. Literally every single person in this fandom hc Buck 1.0 also hooked up with guys. Most people never acted as if Buck needs to be guided through his queerness by this hot older guy. Oh, wait, no, they did. With T. People automatically decided that Buck needed a queer Yoda. That he needed someone to hold his hand and be a guide. They added a fucked up power dynamic from the get go. With no information, Buck was already a baby that needed his hand held through his own sexuality. And let me tell you one thing, I know for a FACT that if it was Eddie, the automatic reaction wouldn't be putting T in this idealized experienced gay guide position when that would've made more sense (not that I think any of them needs a guide) because Eddie is the one with the body count you can count with one hand and a weird relationship with sex. But somehow I'm the one who's weird about Buck's sexuality. I don't want Buck to explore. I need Buck to only have loved Eddie. Sure. Look, I don't wanna multiship. The same way everyone is allowed to ship whatever the fuck they want, I'm allowed to not ship whatever the fuck I want. If it was a woman no one would've been in my inbox basically demanding I make the same level of analysis I make for buddie for them (let me tell you one thing too, if I made the level of analysis I do with buddie with bt, no one would like what I have to say ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯) but I'm still getting asked for it for some reason when I never indicated I ship the two.

But I'm not allowed to have any critical thoughts about anything involving bt or else I'm being weird and that's the mild term that's being used. I can't point out the fact that T left Buck in a curb and failed to communicate shit properly even though it happened in canon. I can't say that I think it felt kinda callous for him to say "they had henleys in the 80s" to Buck being upset T didn't dress on theme (also, the job requires them to change into a uniform by nature, he could've put a colorful shirt and indulged Buck a little bit there without it interfering with the way he was on standby but I can't say that or else I'm a hater). There is no criticism allowed in the ship but somehow I'm the one being weird. I don't think Buck should be in a relationship. I think Buck is still exhibiting the same patterns when it comes to love interests. And yes, I would feel the same way if it was Eddie. Buck doesn't know how to be happy alone and he will never be happy in a relationship until he learns that. I was saying that when it was Natalia and getting praised for my understanding of Buck's character. Now I'm locking Buck onto Eddie. Buck's bisexuality is only valid if he's actively kissing a guy for some people but I'm the one being weird. BT have so many visual parallels to bucktaylor, but if I say that's a bad sign I'm being a hater. I need to sit my ass down, ignore six seasons of buildup, accept that it's over, and that now making Eddie queer and getting buddie together would suck because it would destroy the friendship they built so bt are endgame and gonna get married and somehow I'm the one who's being weird about queer relationships and attaching Buck bisexuality to a person. The fandom lost its fucking mind when they saw Oliver kiss a guy and, yeah, it does feel misogynistic and borderline fetishizing. But somehow I'm the one getting blocked by half the fandom when I'm not even pointing everything I want out. I lose at least one mutual every time I even suggest maybe we should look at things a bit more critically. I have to sit here and justify things to an insane degree while people's reaction to any of the criticism is "uH BuT T Is hOt aNd hE Is a gUy sO It iS DiFfErEnT oKaY?" Critical thinking skills went out the window because now there's a guy involved and that's fucking weird. People are straight up erasing Eddie, the actual main character of the show, Buck's established partner of years, Buck's best friend, the only person in canon who never left Buck in any capacity, because some guy kissed Buck and, he, uh *check notes* treats Buck as an actual human being? so that means he's perfect. It's nuts. The bar is hell.

Yes, I know this is not everyone in the fandom and I know this is not everyone who ships them but if what I'm saying feels like a personal attack to you maybe you should do some thinking. Anyone can ship anything, you want to ship them go off, power to you, the weird part here is the way some people are demanding other people ship it too. We could all be coexisting if people didn't get weirdly comfortable demanding shit from other people in the fandom and deciding their opinion is the only one that matters so they need to call out anyone who thinks differently, but alas, that's too much to ask.

[traumabuddies]

okay everyone is talking about the "okay, does that come right after our flying lessons?" which is so valid because. because yes, obviously, that's when buck becomes a little more aware of what's happening and starts consciously flirting back. but to me it's buck's line that comes after that. when tommy says "probably not on the same day" and you can see buck's face get back to less Flirty but also more Vulnerable. and then the delivery of "good." barely audible cause it's like buck's just breathing out the word. the just as honest, "cause trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting". like yes he's flirting but in a way where he's laying himself bare and it's like he's realising it as he says it and it takes him by surprise but. the honesty, the vulnerability, comes out like breathing. literally. and i just. i'm so glad tommy kissed him about it because oh my god. oh my god. oliver stark the actor that you are