#they said: fuck it. a one person army will do

[blamebrett]

MHJ v HYBE: A Tyler Perry Production

That's right, y'all! From the studio that brought you the Madea series and Testimony, we now have

Diary of a Mad Hype Girl!

Let’s first put that into perspective. Min Hee Jin has had 2 press conferences to HYBE’s ZERO press conferences. And yet she wants HYBE to stop the media play…moving along.  She calls two national emergency conferences and did an exclusive KBS interview. Fortunately, she kept this one brief, less than 2 hours. There are a few things I want to discuss about the first and second press conference: 

Presentation is the Key to Manipulation 

Min Hee Jin showed up to the first preference channeling her inner Felicia from Friday wearing a oversize shirt and hid under a Dodgers hat. She did this to remind everyone that like Gwen Stefani, she’s just the only girl in the world. Which was smart in a way, no one would ever sympathize with two power hungry people vying for power. She knew what she had to do to gain the public, or so she thought. Even though she went to the Tyler Perry school of acting, most people did not feel empathetic to her cause. So she switched tactics and came dressed modestly, and pretty simple, if I must say.  She dressed like a modern woman, but not too elegant, and her demeanor shifted from frantic to polite. 

The Two Faces of Min Hee Jin 

This woman to ramble and rave without a clear thought pattern in her first. I mean, she was only two seconds from channeling R. Kelly and screaming “I’M FIGHTING FOR MY FUCKING LIFE.” This time, she was so polite, but her arrogance was also in full display.  As she stated during the press conference, she felt vindicated by the courts. Even Korea is feeling whiplashed from her changes in personality. She’s so weird and manipulative, and it leaves many question “who are you.”

Well, here’s what I think about her. 

Apple Music currently playing “I’m just a girl” next song, “Human nature” by Michael Jackson

Let’s make a drinking game out of every time she said she was human. 

Reporter: “How do you feel about how Le Sserafim is being treated?”

MHJ: “I’m getting targeted to!”

Reporter: “What about New Jeans”

MHJ: “I love them…they checked on me and comforted me because I’m human and I have emotions”

Reporter: “What about BTS now being questioned about their album sales”

MHJ: “I didn’t want to tarnish their names, but I’m human”

Somehow, this grown ass woman has found a way to always make herself the center of the conversation, and no other victim can exist outside of her. It’s maddening. And while I’m not an Army, those men have worked hard to keep their brand rather clean, the girl groups are just starting out so they need to build their brand to be as clean, and yet, here comes MHJ like a racking ball, not giving a fuck. 

I’m so over her. I’m so over this drama, and quite frankly, she’s not even getting more than half of my hanger in the situation. 

BIG BACK ASS BANG YOU’RE NEXT~

Overall, Tyler Perry did a great job with this production. MHJ surely learned from his acting and has manifested into a great actress. I find Jigsaw to be the next best role for her. Tell me what y'all think.

[visionkept]

HC 7: DUEL THOUGHTS (pt.1).

"I heard that my friend had challenged the VISION HUNTERS to a duel before the throne."

There’s still the big misconception that Tomo CHALLENGED the Shogun when in reality, they went for the VISION HUNTERS all together. It is said by Kazuha in the cutscene and even has a voice-line that confirms that Tomo fought Sara and not Raiden, the Shogun was there just to witness the outcome and PUNISH the loser.

KAZUHA. ABOUT KUJOU SARA: “She defeated my friend in a duel before the throne, which I accept as proof of her great strength”

Besides this confirming that TOMO FOUGHT SARA and NOT the Shogun, the rest of the fight is left heavily AMBIGUOUS and so were the conditions they set. 

Yes, the winner would get a second chance but what did that even mean ? Would the vision hunt decree disappear if Tomo had won ? Would it continue though Tomo had beheaded their general ? There’s so much to unpack here and yet, the only thing we have for certain is that the winner would SURVIVE to see another day.

But did Tomo ONLY fight Sara ? I don’t think so. BESIDES fighting Sara, I do believe Tomo had to go through an ENTIRE SQUAD first. After all, the cutscene does show us a clear view of the BATTLEFIELD:

I do find it a bit strange that it was filled with katanas in a position given to fallen soldiers. And though we could assume these could be from previous fights against the throne, I find it rather unlikely considering that we don’t see them in game nor were there any other duels mentioned. And another important detail I noticed ( and that does seem intentional ) . . .

The PATTERNS in the fallen blades are similar to the ones we see with the Shogun’s soldiers. A black / white pattern that contrasts heavily with Tomo’s katana ( white / black ). Kazuha suggests in many occasions that Tomo was, indeed, very STRONG. That’s why he ACCEPTS that Sara is too - because she DEFEATED THEM out of all people. 

The absolute madman CHALLENGED a whole army KNOWING it would be too much for them. And yet they were able to defeat AT LEAST 25 SOLDIERS in combat to the point that either Sara had to step in and stop them or they managed to defeat all the men assigned that it was HER turn to do something about it.

If Tomoya ever does become a playable character ( there’s hope ), I do wish they could expand more on what exactly happened through that duel, if their battle with Sara was tight to the point that they almost got their victory.

They went with the mentality of dying in the ATTEMPT but. . . what if they had been so close to win. . .

[ellemj]

Strawberries

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.

Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.

            Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.

            Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.

            “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.

            As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.

            “You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.

            “He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.

            Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.

            Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?

---

            It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.

            When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.

            “Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.

            “If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?

            When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.

---

            You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.

            Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.

            “Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.

            “Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

            “Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.

            You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.

            When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.

            Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.

            “I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.

            “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”

            “I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”

            “You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.

            “Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.

            Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.

            “What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.

            “You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.

            “Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.

            “Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.

            “Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.

            When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.

            “Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.

            “I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”

            His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.

            “You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.

            Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.

            You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.

            “Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”

            “I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.

            “You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.

            Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.

            “Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.

            “You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.

            “I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.

            “You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.

            You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.

            “Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.

            “Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.

            “I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.

            “Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.

            “I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.

            Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.

            “Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.

            “Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.

            “I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.

            “I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.

            “Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.

            “Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.

            Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.

            “We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.

            “Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.

            “You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.

            “I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”

            “Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.

            “I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.

            “It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”

            “I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.

            Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.

But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.

“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”

“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”

Shit. He might be in love with you.

[shit-talker]

The 141 have a ridiculous run of inside jokes that is continuosly ruining their lives, such as;

1.) If someone says, "You love it really," to you, you immediately have to agree with them, no matter what the circumstances. Otherwise, you lose the ability to do it back. This has resulted in many weird fake confessions, including one time in which Soap got fed up with people making your mom jokes at him and went on a rant about it. Ghost glanced at him in front of a room full of cadets and just went, "You love it really, though," and Soap almost died as he sadly nodded and replied, "Yeah, I do."

2.) If something even remotely sexual sounding is said about you, you must always say, "You're damn right I do/am/will," back. This backfired once when they were in a defreif and Price said something about Gaz "coming through the back door" and Gaz, without think, winked and replied "You're damn right I did," In front of everyone and got in trouble for mild insubordination. (The others almost died laughing as he realised what he'd done, who he'd done it to, and who he'd done it in front of (aka Price's bosses))

3.) When talking about Roach, they will always act like he's died. He hasn't, but none of them can stop the joke, and it always makes all of them crack up, even Roach. This once caused major panic, as once when Ghost was discussing their latest mission with Laswell, he said, "It was fine because Roach - God rest his soul -" and Laswell had about two minutes where she thinks Roach has dropped dead and she didn't fucking know.

4.) They will always make up bad stories for how they met Ghost, if anyone ever asks. It doesn't matter what the truth is, or who they're speaking to, when asked, all three of them will reply with some made up, overly dramatic or down right boring story on how they met. These stories ranged from Ghost, saving them from a shark attack (Gaz), Ghost selling them assorted drugs as a teenager (Roach), and most devastatingly is when Soap told a distant relative of his that he met Ghost after "finding him with my older brother, behind his wifes back" he does not have an older brother, and so there is no wife.

5.) They always reference the "Malibu incident." None of them have ever been to Malibu. Nothing bad has ever happened there, but now they've created a whole conspiracy in the British Army about a coverup that happened in Malibu. Price knows about this one and finds it endlessly funny, so he goes along with it, never directly mentioning it but refusing to deny it when someone asks. If anyone ever asks about the details of it, they just give a deadpanned look as if the other person should already know and say; "Don't make me say it." There are rumours. Like, a lot of rumours.

6.) Roach claps every time someone says, "I'll be there for you" because once he clapped at the wrong time during the friends intro and had been paying the price ever since. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes you'll just hear him clapping - not even in the tune to the friends theme. Just random clapping. If any of the others hear it, they almost always reply with "That's a fuckin' joke" in a really disappointed tone. It's confused a lot of people.

[ghouljams]

Sin Summer (Ghost) Rating: E (MDNI) Words: 3.8k Tags: Ghost x f!reader, tinder au, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them Summary: You finally meet up with your faceless tinder guy and he quickly takes the number 1 spot on your hookup list. a/n: When I say nothing is abandoned I mean NOTHING. Part 1, Part 3

You're a little nervous when Saturday rolls around, but not any more nervous than you usually are. You're meeting in a public place, and if things break bad you can always scream. Hell if things break good Ghost promised to have you screaming. So one way or the other you get to be loud.

You don't even know who you're looking for, standing outside the bar and waiting for someone to... grab you? Usually you have a photo and can look around but Ghost was insistent that wasn't going to happen. You stare at your phone, at the open tinder dm and the promise from Ghost that he'd find you. He better not be a catfish or you're going to have to do some serious soul searching on your ability to be fooled on this app.

A large firm hand touches your shoulder and you quiet your startle response to something more reasonable for someone camped outside a bar.

"Easy love," his voice is so deep and rough, you pray this is Ghost, because you have to hear this voice dirty talk you. You have to look up to meet his eye. Which is just about the only thing you can meet since he's wearing a mask. You recognize the bottom of it, sort of, from one of his pictures. If nothing else the skeletal jaw print sort of lends itself to a name like Ghost.

"Ghost?" You ask hesitantly, if it's not him you'll sound like an idiot but the way his brows raise at your question give the same answer his voice does.

"The one and only."

"Faceless in person too, huh?" You really don't know what to say, never know what to say at the initial meeting. You both know what you're here for, but it's not like you can really say it.

"Try to be. Still got a mouth under here though, don't you worry." You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at the same time you notice his eyes crease at the corners. You think he might be teasing you.

"You pull it up to drink I guess," you fish for something to say. Ghost shakes his head.

"Only comes off for one thing tonight sweetheart, and it's not drinking." His voice, God his voice, you think he could read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle and you'd get off on it. Your stomach clenches, eyes darting to his army fatigues. You really hope those are just for fashion.

"What the fuck are we at a bar for then?" You ask a little breathless. Ghost stares up at the bar sign.

"Gotta at least pretend I'm a gentleman," he tells you, "you said we were near your hotel, yeah?"

You grab his hand and very nearly drag him back to your hotel. Fuck it. If he is army you're not getting fucked in a barrack when you've got a perfectly good mattress at the hotel. You're sure he'd appreciate a shower with just the two of you in it as well. If he even wants to spend the night... do you want him to spend the night? If it means morning sex then absolutely.

It turns out Ghost's mask goes up for more than one thing, though you're given very strict instructions to keep your eyes closed for at least half of them.

Eyes closed when he kisses you. His hands are so big, rough with scars and callouses when they cup your face and tip your head back. You think you feel scars on his lips too, the softness of them cut with a raised lines of something, but you can't bother paying too much attention to them. His kissing leads you to believe some very promising things about his head. Lips sliding against yours firm and hungry before you try to get a breath in and he doesn't let you, deepening the kiss with an insistent tongue that makes your head spin from more than just lack of oxygen.

You love a confidant man. A man who kisses you like you're all that he wants, that he needs. You both know you're more than willing, but he still kisses you like you need convincing. His tongue slides against yours, licks into your mouth; he groans when you suck on the wet muscle. Ghost makes a quiet noise into the kiss, soft and a little desperate. You don't know if you'd considered how much he might want you when you'd started this.

"Ghost," you sigh when his lips leave yours and attach themselves to your neck. He hesitates, like it's the first time he's heard his name said like that, before diving in to bite you, hard. You tip your head back further with a gasp, the ache of his teeth against your skin makes you squirm, makes heat pool between your legs. You shiver as his tongue rolls over the bruise, his hands tugging at the bottom of your tee. You're careful to keep your eyes closed when he lifts it over your head. "Pants too," you hum.

"Don't gotta remind me," he tells you, fingers already skimming your belt. He barely gets it undone before he pushes his hand into your pants. His tongue clicks admonishingly, fingers skimming your wet panties. You do your best not to follow the firm strokes. "You're really desperate for me, aren't you?" His low tone hits you right where his fingers do. You're glad you're looking at the ceiling and not him, the way he makes your skin heat.

"You're my type," you tell him honestly, hips following the rub of his fingers. Screw it, if he's going to tease you, you're going to enjoy it.

"You should get better taste." You wish you could argue with that, but considering who you brought home he's probably right. You settle on humming, not willing to make a solid noise of agreement or disagreement when he's got his hand down your pants.

You close your eyes when he moves, when he hauls you up to position on the bed. His hand covers your eyes, warm and calloused, and big. It's firm, steadfast, you're almost enjoying the makeshift blindfold situation. Ghost's lips latch onto one of your nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardening bud. The heat of his mouth makes you squirm, the bite of his teeth just at the edge of too hard. He sucks and laves his tongue over you like he can't get enough of the feeling. You let a whine slip free and he moves his attention to the other one.

His fingers rub you through your underwear, working you up to soaking with practiced precision. Three firm fingers dragging up and down your slit, stopping to circle your clit with each stroke. It's warm pressure that makes your hips cant, chasing the movement. He's teasing you, keeping you just at the edge of eager while he enjoys himself with your breasts. You squirm a little and his touch slides further up to occupy itself with the waistband of your panties. You pull your legs up to help him get them off.

Ghost seems to switch gears as soon as they're gone. His hand leaving your eyes to grip under your knees, settling your legs on either side of him and pushing them up towards your chest. He trails his mouth down your stomach, nipping and licking at the soft skin, leaving his mark against your hip before he slips between your legs.

Keeping your eyes closed makes it hard not to flinch when his tongue drags over your slit. Broad strokes as he tastes you, his fingers spread you open so he can wiggle it between your folds and you press your hips into his touch. The hot drag of his tongue as it circles your hole makes you squirm, which makes him chuckle, deep and dark.

"You want me to hold you down?" He offers, the sound of his voice making heat rush over your skin. You shake your head and feel his broad shoulders shrug, you slide your legs over them and squeeze your thighs around his head. You feel him turn and bury his teeth in the soft flesh of your thigh.

It distracts him, you think, when he releases his teeth he runs his tongue along your skin, kissing and sucking at your thigh. His lips are appreciative, even when you squeeze him again. He's teasing you, he's so close to where you want him, working you up without ever touching your pussy. Your stomach jumps, warmth from his breath ghosting against your wet cunt. "I know baby," He groans, "gorgeous-" He cuts himself off, his lips pressing against your leg again before they leave you.

You almost open your eyes again when he fastens his mouth over your clit. You're so on edge waiting for him to touch you that you curl into his mouth, your fingers gripping his short cropped hair. His tongue rolls over your clit sending shocks up your spine. Your stomach jumps and you gasp as he sucks at your cunt, tugging at your clit and kissing your slit. He stirs heat in the pit of your stomach with each stroke of his tongue. Ghost's mouth is like a furnace, one that seems desperate to avoid parting from you. You hardly get a break from his insistent tongue, the sucking kisses, and the groans of deep satisfaction.

Ghost doesn't stop for a second, and the constant attention winds itself tight in the pit of your stomach. You whine, tug at his hair to pull his mouth closer, to keep that delicious suction that makes you want to writhe. He hums around your clit as you feel pressure build quick, before you can even warn him. Your whining grows more insistent as everything goes tight then spasms against his tongue as you come. Ghost doesn't give you a break, tongue stroking your clit as you clench and shake under him.

You jerk your hips when you feel his thick finger circling your hole, and his mouth leaves you. Only long enough to click his tongue and settle a hand on your stomach. He pushes your hips down against the bed, and eases his finger into your still fluttering cunt. "Gotta open you up love, relax." He tells you.

His finger is thick, thicker than some of the guys you've slept with, and you let out a soft noise at the gentle stretch. Ghost hums his encouragement, pumping his finger in and out of your cunt. He kisses your thigh again; you tip your head ever so slightly down and he clicks his tongue again. "Eyes up," He reminds you. You tip your head back, though you ache to get a look at the mouth that so expertly took you apart. The mouth that seems to still be trying to take you apart, because as soon as your head is back he's licking your clit again.

Your too sensitive, you have to force yourself to stay still, though his hand holding you down helps. You can hear the wetness between your legs, from his mouth, from his fingers, from your drooling cunt. Ghost hardly gives you a moment to adjust to the feeling, crooking his finger to stroke against your walls while he sucks. You clench around his finger and feel his tongue lap a broad stroke over your cunt in return. He waits for you to relax again before easing a second finger into you.

The burn of the stretch, just a bit too soon, is perfect. His fingers tug at your hole, sliding slickly in and out of you. It's just enough to make you feel full without filling you. Fuck it's good. Ghost strokes your walls, his fingers easing the stretch with gentle movements. He presses up against your soft spot and you let out a breath. You can hear the smile in his voice when he mumbles,

"There she is."

It's the only warning you get before his fingers are thrusting into you with a purpose. Short, quick, and precise, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. Your stomach jumps and you clench around his fingers. He sits back, his hand leaving your stomach to hold your legs up, keep you from gaining any leverage as your back arches and you moan. He seems to have a direct line to your pleasure center. Each stroke of his fingers tightens in the pit of your stomach and makes your hips squirm to try and get away from the unrelenting jab of his hand. He's quick and experienced, and your legs shake over his shoulders.

You suppose it should be a relief when he removes his fingers just before you come a second time, and settles your feet on the bed. "Wanna watch you squirm," Ghost's voice is rough, deeper than you've heard it before. His fingers are the same, only this time when you try to get away from them he follows you. You were already on edge but this pushes you over. You buck and squirm, forcing him to fuck his fingers into you harder and faster until you shake apart with a shout and a flood of wetness. It coats your thighs, you know it coats his hand. It makes him groan. It doesn't make him stop. "Again," He tells you, his fingers still working you up quick. You don't have time to recover, your legs only pull up against your chest, desperate to curl in on yourself as the pleasure turns to pain and then pleasure again.

You come with your head thrown back and your fingers gripping the sheets. You shudder as it rips through you without warning, and once again coats Ghost's hand. He draws his fingers from you, and you hear him suck them clean. Somehow the sound makes you shiver.

Catching your breath takes priority over trying to sneak another peak at your partner for the night. You're sticky with sweat, three orgasms in, and you haven't even been fucked yet. You're buzzing just at the edge of enough. A good dick would make your night. To your side you hear the rustle of fabric being discarded. Ghost getting undressed you assume.

"Can look if you want," Ghost's voice is ever so slightly muffled, and when you do tip your head to find him he has his mask on again. You must look confused, because he shakes his head with a chuckle, and glances down to unclasp his belt. "Wanna look you in the eye," He explains, "Hard to do that with your eyes closed."

It's hard to look him in the eye anyway when he looks like that. Your eyes scour over the swell of well maintained muscle and the soft layer of fat that covers it. There are scars too, a whole host of them. They cover every inch of him, slashed over his chest, stabbed in his side, bullet holes in his shoulder and thick biceps. If you had any doubt this man saw combat it was gone now. He must be military, maybe special forces, it explains the mask.

Ghost pushes his pants down and you... well you need to rethink some things.

In your experience men who are criminally good at giving head are making up for something. Men who know how to "open you up" even more so. You swallow looking at the cock hanging between his legs, so long and heavy that it didn't spring up when he shucked his boxers. His fingers wrap around it, giving it a few good strokes with your slick as lube, and you watch the motion hungrily. He's not compensating for anything, he's just a great lay.

"How do you want me," You ask, eyes focused on the movement of his cock as he bends to grab a box from his discarded pants. He hums, tugging a length of condoms out and ripping one off.

"I'll move ya," He responds, rolling the rubber over his dick. A little shiver rushes down your spine, you like a man who knows what he's doing.

Ghost does, in fact, move you. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge of the bed, the movement so quick and self assured it makes you giggle. His eyes crease at the edges, he's smiling you think, and he keeps smiling as he settles a knee on the bed next to you. You're quick to wrap your legs around his hips, and he's just as quick to pull them off and settle them over his arms. His big hands knead at your thighs, the extra leverage lining you up perfectly with his cock. Despite the angle, you're not using any muscles to hold yourself up, that's kind of him. Less kind when he positions himself at your entrance and tells you,

"Need you to be a good girl and take it," You gasp as he pushes into you, splitting you open more than his fingers could ever hope to, "Think you can do that?" You nod quickly, warmth dripping like honey to pool in the pit of your stomach. He didn't stretch you enough, but you think that might be the point. The ache of his cock stretching you open lets you feel every fat inch of it, every vein that drags against your walls, eased by the slick of your orgasms. Your eyes roll a little when he stops and pulls out a little. You whine, clenching to try and keep him inside, to keep that delicious stretch. Ghost groans, swears under his breath and shakes his head.

You should have anticipated him thrusting the last few inches inside. The hard thrust slapping his hips against yours forces a moan out of you. You arch in his hold, shivery, and glance between your legs as he gives you just a moment to adjust. The thick curls around his cock brush against your overworked clit and you do your best not to squirm. Not that you have much opportunity to squirm when Ghost fucks his weight down onto you. Each deep thrust hitting something achingly good inside you that makes you moan and claw at the arms holding you.

Your brows draw together looking at Ghost, he holds your gaze, his eyes piercing, dark and hungry. He's almost daring you to look away as he pounds into you. You're pinned under him, your legs forced back as he leans over you and treats you to a fountain of praise: "squeezin' me so good," "takin' it so well," "pretty little whore," "made for my cock." Your eyes roll back, the hot punch of his cock against your cervix almost too much for you. He told you to take it, you can be good for him, let him use you after he got you off so many times. That doesn't stop your legs from shaking or your voice from screaming.

There's something covetous in his eyes, something animalistic in the way he fucks you. This round is just for him, and you can take it. You tip your head back, trying to arch your back. Ghost releases his hold on your thighs and grabs you by the back of the neck, folding you back onto his cock. "No, no, sweetheart," He rumbles, leaning to press his forehead against yours, "told you, you gotta take it. Show me how a proper slag gets fucked."

Somehow this angle makes his thrusts more precise, and you truly cannot move to try and escape. You can hardly breathe, his cock fucking all the air out of your lungs. His pace just keeps getting faster, and you can see the way sweat sticks to his brow. You dig your fingers into his biceps, his thighs, anywhere you can try to get a grip as everything starts to hurt too good. You let out a squeak as the heat compounding in your stomach drips out of you. A slow trickle of orgasm that breaks into a flood on the next stroke of his cock.

It's worth it the way he growls when you clench and flutter around his cock. Ghost's thrusts becoming sharp and uncoordinated as he groans out his own orgasm. He rocks his cock into you more gently, letting your greedy pussy milk him before he lets you go to pull out. You feel like a rag doll, the way you drop and splay on the bed to shiver.

You turn over onto your stomach in an attempt not to slide off the bed as you get your bearings. Ghost is quick to scoop you up and deposit you against the pillows, the condom tied off and tossed towards the trash. You're once again moved, positioned how he likes so Ghost can pull you against his chest. You sling a leg over him and cuddle close. He smells like sweat, musky in a way that makes you want to drag your tongue along his collar.

"Twenty minutes," He tells you roughly, "I'll talk about anything but work." You hum, occupied with dragging your fingers over his squishy pecs. He flexes a little and you tip your head to look up at him.

"What?"

"We still got a dozen condoms, no sense takin' 'em home." He raises a brow. You think you're getting better at reading him, you think he's smiling. The offer is light, but sincere.

"Long as I can walk in the morning," You smile. He tips his head, like he's thinking about it.

"We'll see."

When you wake up in the morning it's to a pounding at the door. You grumble and sit up to check the time. You're alone in bed, but the shower is running. Good, he hasn't left yet. Around round six you decided you were getting Ghost's number in the morning, maybe asking him out to breakfast, perhaps even dinner. The clock says six but your brain says it's ass o'clock and whoever is banging on the door needs to gtfo.

You drag yourself out of bed and swipe Ghost's tee from the floor. A souvenir, and a nasty habit you've picked up. You root around for a pair of panties and manage to tug them on as the shower shuts off. You're making your way for the door when Ghost pops out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. You don't have time to admire the way drops of water trace over his back, or the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. He opens the door and leans against the jam.

"Dinnae dae that," Another low voice fills the room, there's something familiar about the accent, "Ya ask for a wakeup call, ya dinnae get ta glare at me."

"You're early," Ghost grumbles.

"Aye, was just so eager to see yer face LT." You pad behind Ghost and peak around his shoulder at the man in fatigues and an army green tee. You could recognize those eyes even if you didn't still feel his smile like an arrow through the heart. Icy blue in a way that makes you think he's from a different planet. Though you know it from your time in Glasgow.

"John?"

[sh1-n0bu]

hhhhhhhhh

no no no you guys just don’t get it. irl i’m fucking small, okay? like i’m 163cm. 5’3 or however that would turn out to be. and you guys need to understand that being that small and having an s/o who’s an absolute giant compared tk you (bonus points if they’re in a position of power and commanding) and yet to have your powerful s/o become nothing more than a pathetic whining, whimpering mess who’s just begging for your touch while on their knees with tears welling in their eyes *bangs head against wall bangs head against wall bagns head against wall*

imagine being the lover of jing yuan. he’s a powerful man, a literal general of an entire army and yet the moment he sees you, he’s tugging on your sleeve, pouting as he asks for you to touch him. he’s been such a good boy and holding himself back for you, please help him out? he can get you your favorite snacks! or do you need shoulder massages? jing yuan is running around like an errand boy, trying to please you jusg so he can feel your hand tightly wrapped around his cock.

imagine being the lover of blade. he’s a scary guy. quiet, reserved, cruel and most definitely won’t hesitate to resort to murder if he wants something. or simply if he felt like it. imagine him crawling on your lap with loud whines and soft whimpers, grinding his hard on on your thigh. you always tell him to learn how to use his words but bladie just never seems to get it. maybe you should edge him again until he learns his lesson?

imagine being the lover of gepard landau. he’s the captain of the silvermane guards. the most trusted man and silvermane guard in the entirety of belebog. the people adore him and his subordinates look up to him, wanting to be strong and reliable just like their captain. if only they knew their captain was wearing a hidden collar underneath his high collared undershirt. one that said just who he would kneel to.

imagine being the lover of sampo. he’s a cheeky guy. lies and manipulation tactics ready up his sleeve. he knows how to weasel his way out of every dirty situation. but he would never lie to you. never you. not when you made it clear on just how rough you can be in the bedroom after finding out he lied about not tricking one of the astral express crew. but sometimes, sampo wants to lie again and have you know of it just so he can be put in impossible positions while he sobs and drools deliriously.

imagine being the lover of imbibitor lunae. he is the high elder of vidyadhara, the most respected individual amongst his own race. he’s elegant, divine, ethereal, calm and collected. a person of authority and power. if only the people knew just good you wreck him with only just your fingers. how his tail would curl around you asking for more while he sobs for you to be gentle. he’s always so sensitive in his vidyadhara form. just tug on his tail or guide his head to between your legs by his horns, he would become a mindless, pliant baby in no time.

imagine being the lover of welt. he’s a calm and serious man of the astral express crew. often being their guidance and pillar to lean on when things get a bit too much. heck, sometimes he even acts like a tired dad (that “maaarrrcchhhh” scene in xianzhou quest). hell, he was even formerly the second herrscher of reason, a being that’s literally able to bend the physics of reality itself. and yet he would do anything just so he can feel you around him. he wouldn’t hesitate to try and please you so he can be inside your warm walls, moaning and trembling as you ride him.

imagine being the lover of kafka. she’s a scary woman, no doubt. just a single whisper and you would be nothing more than her cute little puppet. and yet she uses her powers for more… different reasons when with you. ordering you to fuck her cunt, finger her open in the dark alleyway, to let her sit on your face so she can ride herself into overstimulation. kafka loves when you’re in control. especially when wringing orgasm after orgasm from her shaking body.

imagine being the lover of himeko. she’s the one who rebuilt the astral express, a respected and well known genius of a beautiful lady. anyone would be lucky to meet her. but the only luck himeko wants is to feel your fingers inside her. how she would give everything just so she can hear you whisper all sorts of vile things in her ear as you pinch her clit, telling her to keep quiet so she won’t wake up the others.

in conclusion, reverse size kink my beloved🥰🥰

[sexhaver]

a few nights ago i went to my city's town hall meeting because they were voting on a resolution to call for a ceasefire in Gaza (mostly symbolic but our rep is close to biden) and like. jesus fuck dude participating in democracy is so exhausting

dude at the pre-meeting rally/speech session was passing out flyers about Bob Avakian. i vaguely remembered that being a cult so i googled it and ended up accidentally downloading a 256-page pdf titled "Against Avakianism". i love leftist infighting so much

one of the council members said he would be abstaining from voting because he's technically in the army and doesn't want to piss them off even though it would technically be legal for him to do

another one (George Scarpelli) said he would be abstaining and then immediately followed that up by reading a bunch of letters that "concerned constituents" had sent in to him about this bill. every single constituent was a zionist saying that calling for a ceasefire would "sow division" (?). this was in a format where public commentary was limited to 2 minutes per person, but council members had unlimited time, so these zionists were also bypassing the time limit because they know a guy on the council. eventually the moderator told him to cut that shit out so we could actually start

someone in the audience yelled "read letters from palestinians" and he replied something to the effect of "i talked to them but none of them submitted comments to me" and i shouted "gee i wonder why" and then he got really visibly mad and then the moderator moved everything along

only three people out of 40+ during the public commentary spoke against it. all of them mentioned "sowing division" (???). two of these people called in via zoom but one was dumb/brave enough to do that in person and everyone just stared at him in silence as he went back to his seat

the moderator had to stop three different people during public commentary to tell them that they technically weren't allowed to "address comments directly at any one member of the board". all three of these people were mad at George Scarpelli

multiple Palestinian speakers literally older than Israel talking about their friends and family who were killed and running up against the two-minute time limit because there were so many of them to list

Scarpelli ended up voting against it even though he said he would abstain

it passed anyways

i just learned this now while googling his name for this post but Scarpelli is a democrat? jesus fucking christ

[bubble-dream-inc]

hii! i love ur fics!! can u write something about medical f/reader and her being scared of Ghost and can't look him in the eyes (he makes her really nervous and shy) and Ghost kinda find it amusing:))

an apple a day...

At first, Simon wasn't fazed by the rumors about the cute new head doctor on base; that is, until he realized the effect he had on you - and how fun was it to tease you with it.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Medic Reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 1,4K

a/n: hi anon! thank you for this ask, i had a lot of fun writing this <3 bear in mind i used the little medical knowledge from my brief pharmacist student era and i actually have no idea how medical regs work in the army so take these inaccuracies with a grain of salt lmao. thank you my love @chaoskrakenuwu for the beta read <333333

tags: profanity, pure fluff, medical innacuracies, female reader, Simon is a smug little shit.

Ghost was many things, but amongst it all, he silently took pride in being good at reading people.

At first, he didn’t know exactly why he was doing it, and later he’d come to realize it was an amusing game for him, oddly enough, considering Simon Riley was never a man to bask in mundane pleasures.

It started with the rumors around the base about the allegedly cute new head doctor. Simon had been around these men for long enough to grow used to their touch deprived selves thirsting over literally any woman that came close to their general vicinity, so at first the talk didn’t stir his curiosity - it almost never did; he didn’t like to gossip. This changed one morning when he woke up with a killer headache, and unwillingly made way to the infirmary to try and get some painkillers. Gingerly knocking on the door and waiting for the approval of whoever was on the other side - which came in the form of a meek ‘come in’ - he had completely forgotten about the rumors going around until he set foot in the room and instantly came across the new head doctor.

They didn’t do it justice. You weren’t cute, you were a fucking spectacle.

He blinked, seemingly expressionless behind the mask, but he embarrassingly had to admit he might have let his gaze wander more than usual as you looked up from the papers you were looking over, clearly confused as to why you heard your door open but not a word out of the person who came in, and, as you did so, he recognized all the emotions people felt whenever they looked at him for the first time: confusion, shock - be it by his sheer absurd size or the mask - and, lastly, intimidation. It wasn’t unusual, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother a very hidden part of him, the fact he was intimidating such a small and seemingly harmless woman such as yourself. He had half a mind to speak first, but you beat him to it.

“Oh, uh…Hello, er, Lieutenant Ghost? How can I help you?” You clearly fiddled with your fingers as you stared at him with wide eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. Simon was slightly annoyed you already knew who he was - the whispers about him on base weren’t exactly positive, and he wondered what you might have heard.

“Yeah. Got one fuckin’ headache, I need some meds.” He was aware of how much more coarse his already gruff voice sounded, courtesy of the annoying pain and the sour mood he was already in, and took notice of the way the sound of it made your eyes widen even more. Clearing your throat, you mumbled something in agreement, heading to a cabinet near your desk, and he couldn’t help but watch you like a hawk - entranced by how you looked with the clearly frantic tied up hair and the white lab coat moving in tandem with your body. You looked so small compared to him and the thought made him more satisfied than he’d like to admit.

Finally reaching the drawer you were looking for, you searched it around for a bit until grabbing a small blister with four duo colored pills, hastily making your way over to Ghost and handing him the medication. You gave some instruction on how he should take it - once every six hours, if the pain didn’t go away, but not more than three a day - but he barely registered it, too caught up on watching you from above. Deciding to end your torture, he looked over at the blister on his hand and raised it slightly as if it were a toast.

“Cheers. Thanks, doc.”

With that, he left, not going unnoticed how surprised you were at his cordialness.

After that, he unconsciously made a habit out of it, popping into your office for the stupidest of reasons and he wasn’t even sure why; he’d find himself gravitating towards the infirmary, like a lost dog, to the point you updated his file with the recently known information that he had constant headaches - he didn’t. Simon took some sort of sick pleasure from watching you squirm under his gaze, never able to keep his eye contact for long, even more so when you heard his voice, and things took an interesting turn when he realized you probably weren’t intimidated - but flustered instead. It clicked with him one day as he entered your office in casual clothes before heading to the gym and you thought you were being subtle about the way you ogled his arms in the tight black shirt he was wearing. As he was leaving, he subconsciously turned to grip the doorway above him - not by much - to bid you goodbye, and he couldn’t help but to smirk under the mask when your eyes widened and your face visibly reddened at the motion.

So, he decided to test his theory. That day, he didn’t even need to fake a headache to go see you, he actually had gotten injured when helping out with some maintenance, a moment of recklessness giving him a cut on his hand. If it were another circumstance, he would just have taken care of it himself, considering how desensitized he was to pain these days, but for once he had a good reason to bother you, so that’s exactly what he did. Even if his presence made you so shy, this time you couldn’t help but look at him with worry as he entered the infirmary.

“Ghost, you really have to look into those headaches of yours.”

“Not my head this time.”

He showed you the bleeding cut on his hand, and almost chuckled at the way your eyes widened and you got into professional mode, hastily walking around to gather materials he knew all too well - gauze, iodine, all fun stuff. Simon was used to the sting of stitches, but they rarely felt as gentle as you did it, the way he relished on how close you were while fixing his hand, a focused flash in your eyes, not helping his case one bit, even if it was slightly disappointed how all of your shy nature disappeared the moment you had to be professional. He could appreciate how good you were at what you did, though.

Too soon for his liking, you were done, going around mumbling about a specific anti-inflammatory you were going to give him while he admired the neat work on his hand. Still sitting on the infirmary bed, he watched as you realized where the medication was, which just so happened to be on the tallest shelf of the medication cabinet. You sighed, grumbling about the reckless nurse that always messed with the placement of the medications, too caught up in trying to stand on your tiptoes to reach it that you missed Ghost moving right behind you, noticing only when his torso was inches away from your back and he had one hand gingerly touching your waist, the way you shivered not going unnoticed. He indulged in the way you stilled, turning to look at him with a surprised expression, and he almost chuckled at how adorable your eyes looked when wide like that, but, instead, he only looked down at you for a few moments before effortlessly getting the medicine box from the shelf - which was almost at his eye level - and handing it to you, putting minimal distance between your bodies. Mumbling a small ‘thanks’ you averted your eyes from him, visibly gulping while you quickly found the blister inside the box and handed it to him. However, even after taking it from your hands, he made no move to leave, keeping his stare at you while tilting his head lightly to the side.

“Do I make you flustered, Doc?”

You blinked, processing his words before opening and closing your mouth like a fish and looking to the side, breaking eye contact.

“…Yes. I knew you were doing it on purpose…” You mumbled, embarrassed, and he finally chuckled, not a bit ashamed that you caught him red handed.

He was never so glad to be able to read people so well as that day, when he went back to his room leaving behind a bashfully grinning you and the promise to take you out on a real date whenever you’d be free.

[wynnyfryd]

hey, quick question but what if Eddie hadn’t just said “make him pay” at the end? what if he’d actually done it, screwed up his face and his single scrap of courage and kissed Steve hard, one desperate press of lips before he stepped back out of Steve’s space? Only…

Only Steve’s not gay. He’s not. Not that there’s anything wrong with it if Eddie is, but he isn’t. Steve likes girls, is kind of hung up on one girl in particular, actually, and she’s standing right behind him watching this go down, and oh, God is this awkward now.

He squares his shoulders, gives Eddie a nod that he hopes conveys something like “sorry” and “it’s okay” and “I’m not gonna punch you when this is over, man, I’m really not,” but Eddie’s eyes cut away and he clears his throat and then Nancy’s saying, “Steve? Steve, we need to go.”

So Steve goes.

Steve goes, trudges through the woods with Nancy radiating uncomfortable energy all down his side, and Steve’s got a pit in his stomach and a scorch mark on his mouth where Eddie’s lips left a fucking brand, the kiss repeating on a loop in his mind. He starts thinking about how he’s probably about to die, how he’s gonna die feeling all upside down in the Upside Down and it’s a really stupid joke but it gets him mulling over the fucked up weird life he has now versus the one he always kinda thought he wanted. He tells Nancy about it: the crawling backwards, the thump on the head, how she’s always his co-captain in his Winnebago dreams.

She looks at him with soft, sad eyes — God, her eyes are always so sad, have been ever since the day Barb disappeared — and she rests a delicate hand on his forearm and asks, “Do you think… do you think maybe it’s always me in your dream because I’m the only person your mind thinks it’s allowed to put there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Steve.” Her eyes aren’t so soft now. They’re shining with that hard glint they get when she’s lost patience with Steve’s bullshit. It’s a look Steve knows well, and his hand comes up to touch his lips.

“But I- I’m not…”

“Just go,” she says, her jaw set, all that unbreakable resolve on display. “Robin and I can handle this. Go.”

Robin turns back to look at him over her shoulder, gives him an encouraging nod, and Steve takes off running, sprinting through the trees, following the sound of screeching bats.

When he bursts through the treeline, panting and sweating and clutching at his torn-up sides, Eddie’s in the middle of a maelstrom, his makeshift shield held in a shaking grip as an army of bats encircle him.

“Eddie!” Steve shouts, lungs burning as he begs his feet to move faster, to run fucking run because one of the bats dives at Eddie’s head and another takes a bite out of his leather sleeve; a third one whips a tail around Eddie’s ankle and then Eddie’s going down, pulled to the cracked, filthy earth by gnashing teeth and bloodied claws, and they’re eating him, getting at all those squishy vital bits around his middle when Steve finally hacks his way through the horde to get to Eddie’s side. Armed with an ax and Eddie’s spear, Steve strikes and slashes blindly at the wall of shrieking monsters as they start circling tighter, caging them in, and he’s dead they’re both dead they’re so fucking screwed—

The bats drop. All at once and with no reason Steve can discern, their screams fall silent and their bodies squelch all around them as they slap the hard ground like dead fish on a dock.

Steve drops to his knees beside Eddie, and Jesus Christ, there’s- there’s so much blood oh God oh fuck.

“Bad, huh?” Eddie asks, and how is he still smirking when there’s blood spilling out of his mouth? When there’s a chunk missing out of his jaw?

“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,” Steve mumbles frantically, not sure if he’s praying or panicking or both. He gets his shirt off, rips at the remaining scraps of Eddie’s, too; starts using them to make bandages. “Shit, Eddie, just- just hold on, okay? Stay with me.”

He wriggles a scrap of fabric under Eddie’s brutalized torso, and Eddie screams when Steve pulls it tight around his sides, ties it off and presses down, trying to slow the bleeding. There’s so much fucking blood. His knees slip in it as he ties a tourniquet just above Eddie’s elbow, hoping it’ll save Eddie’s mangled arm, and he bunches the last of the fabric up and presses it to the shredded edges of the wound on Eddie’s face.

Eddie smiles up at him with tears in his eyes, with blood on his lips. “Pretty- pretty grand gesture for a guy you don’t want to kiss.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says, and he’s crying, too. “I don’t- I just…”

“Steve,” Eddie chokes, his breath whistling out with a sickening wheeze, and Steve doesn’t know how the fuck he’s going to get him through the gate and back to safety without making him bleed out. “Steve, it’s… s’okay. M’sorry I kissed you, man.” His eyes are glazing over, and no, please, please, don’t—

Eddie looks up at him, brow furrowed, like it’s taking a lot of effort. His eyes are still so pretty, even now, as Steve hovers helplessly and watches the light slowly leave them. “Actually, I- I guess m’not,” Eddie slurs. “Had to do it at least once b-before I- before I—”

“EDDIE!!!!” a furious, cracking voice echoes through the empty park. Eddie’s trailer door bangs open, falling off its hinges, and a limping Dustin Henderson comes storming across the lot.

“Dustin!!” Steve hollers back, relief flooding his veins like maple syrup straight from the tap, and incredibly (hysterically, he’s probably in shock), he’s laughing when he looks back down at Eddie. Eddie, who’s half dead in his lap, whose blood is all over Steve’s pants. Who Steve might be able to save now.

He shakes Eddie’s shoulders and says, “You can kiss me all you want when we make it out of here, man,” his voice all high-pitched and full of phlegm and trapped somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and Eddie’s eyes go wide at the promise in Steve’s words.

“Dustin!” Steve yells again, pleading, “Dustin, come on, come help me move him!”

It’s slow going, but they get Eddie through the gate, get him taped up so he’s more bandage than boy by the time the ambulance arrives. A medic claps Steve on the shoulder and says ‘You did good, kid,’ and Steve cries at that and then spends an annoying amount of time crying over the next few days, curled up in a rickety chair at Eddie’s bedside in the hospital.

More tears when Eddie finally wakes up. Happy ones this time, and there’s a parade of people coming in to hug Eddie and give him flowers and even Hopper gives him a grudging hair ruffle and an attaboy, and then Steve’s driving Eddie home in the Beemer; gets all the way to the driveway before Eddie brings it up.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, his voice timid and barely audible over the hum of the car.

Steve cuts the engine. “Hmm?”

“Did you, um- the thing, that you…” Eddie spins a ring around on his finger, lets out a frustrated huff. “I mean, I didn’t die, right? I made it out of there, so…?”

You can kiss me all you want when we make it out of here.

Steve’s ears burn at the memory, his mouth going dry, and he must take too long to answer because Eddie starts trying to backpedal. “Sorry. Sorry, you said you’re not— I just thought, maybe— shit, uh, f-forget I said-”

“No! No, um.” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Turns out I kind of am. Or, like. Well, I mean, Robin said liking both is its own thing, it’s not a mix of the two, but…”

“…But both?” Eddie finishes, and his eyes are sparkling.

“Yeah. Both,” Steve shrugs. It’s getting easier to say. “…Mostly just you, though.”

“Oh, just mostly, huh?” Eddie teases, unbuckling his seatbelt so he can lean into Steve’s space.

Steve’s face feels too warm. His neck is probably all splotchy. “Whatever. Are you gonna shut up and kiss me already or what?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie grins and runs his tongue over his teeth. “Many times as I want, right?” He brushes Steve’s hair behind his ear, his calloused fingers so gentle against Steve’s jaw as he lines their faces up.

“How many times is that?” Steve whispers.

“Mm….” Eddie’s mouth brushes against his. “Start counting and let’s find out.”

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

I don’t understand the fandoms love for Daemon, by all rights he should be as hated as Joffrey was. Not only did he do almost everything Joffrey did, he also did worse. Even Tywin wouldn’t hold a candle to his cruelty. I understand liking a villainous character, I do too with Cersei and Tywin, but I’ve never went out of my way to whitewash their characters. I love them because they are villainous and practically irredeemable, if team black stans liked Daemon for his villainous actions before and during the Dance of Dragons I wouldn’t have any problems with it. But the fact that they go out of their way to defend him killing Rhea Royce because “he was forced into a marriage he didn’t like!!!!” As if she wasn’t too. And the fact that they defend him sending Blood and Cheese to psychologically torture Haelena and kill Jaehaerys due to “a son for a son it’s only right” when they despise Alicents moment of madness when her son was denied justice, makes me want to hurl.

It’s alright to like villainous characters, it doesn’t make you a bad person if you like them. But you know what makes you a moronic person? Whitewashing everything that makes a character compelling because you want to like them without seeming like a ‘bad person’. Your opinion on a character does not determine your own morality, it doesn’t make you better or worse than someone who hates them. But what it does, when you erase their entire identity as a rouge to make them more palatable to you, is make you seem moronic, stupid, and lacking any critical thinking and reading comprehension skills.

Rhaenyra is a compelling character because she is entitled and spoiled and lacks any political experience, she shows how badly Viserys fucked up when he tried to compensate for his guilt of murdering Aemma. Alicent is a compelling character because she is a mother who is trying her best to protect her children from the reality that if Daemon took the throne for Rhaenyra, he would kill all of them because they are a threat. She is even more of a compelling character in the books because of her ambition and cunning and want for her family to rise far above the ‘station’ of being a noble house in the Reach (as if house Hightower aren’t the oldest house in Westeros who could trace their lineage back to both the Garth Greenhand the high king of the first men and the Andal Kings that came afterwards). Daemon, for all that I dislike him as a character, is compelling for his ruthlessness and shortsightedness in his pursuit of the throne. He didn’t raise an army for Viserys because he thought he was a competent leader, he did it because it raised his own standing within Westeros, he groomed Rhaenyra not because he loved her, but because having him in her good graces means that he stood a better chance of being king after she was named heir. His ruthlessness is compelling. Taking it away to make him into a ‘malewife’ or a ‘loving father’ or a man who is lacking any ambition beyond wanting a valyrian wife is taking away his agency. It makes him seem like a Gary Sue who only wants the throne because his brother said Rhaenyra was heir. It makes it so that he is so completely white bread like that not even I, someone who loved the more morally bankrupt characters in ASOIAF can find him agreeable in any way shape or form.

Daemon is a fundamentally morally bankrupt character and he should stay that way. If you like him you should acknowledge and accept that he is one of the ‘bad guys’. Just as Cersei fans acknowledge and accept that she is fundamentally a morally bankrupt person who is selfish to the extreme. We like morally black characters because they are morally black. To make excuses for their actions is to take away their agency which makes them unlikable and very hate-able.

Daemons actions aren’t justifiable, blood and cheese would never be justified. A son for a son is akin to the visceral disgust the fandom had to Alicent when she asked for Lucerys’ eye, yet I bet when season two comes out and Blood and Cheese happens we’d see Daemon fans applauding and trying to justify it as ‘not that bad’ and ‘team green deserved it because of Aemond’s actions’ when little Jaehaerys, a boy of 6, was as far removed from the incident as can be. It would be akin to Team Green saying that due to Jaehaerys’ death, Aegon III or Viserys II deserved to have their head cut off in front of Rhaenyra.

Let morally bankrupt characters be morally bankrupt. You aren’t morally bankrupt because you like said character, it’s a fictional story loosely based on Empress Matilda. It’s not that deep. Like the characters you like without trying to justify their actions. They might be monstrous but you aren’t because you like them. It’s not a measure of your own character because you like said character. But it is a measure of your intelligence when you try to change said character’s entire personality to make it so that they are more digestible to you and everyone else.

[stromblessed]

Mizu was wrong to let Akemi be taken because they both deserve better

First, a confession. When I saw this for the first time:

I was relieved. I knew that was what Mizu was going to say and I felt like it's what I would have said in that situation too.

When Akemi does this:

I cringed, because if we know anything about Mizu, it's that she (1) isn't quick to make friends (though to be fair, even though Akemi did try to kill Mizu, so did Taigen - multiple times! - and look how that turned out lol), and (2) doesn't take orders.

So when Akemi and Ringo and later Taigen get angry at Mizu, are they being unfair?

Sure, Mizu isn't obligated to treat Akemi - or Taigen or Ringo or anybody else - nicely, or to serve them, or to be honorable, or be a hero to them, or whatever. No human being is obligated to any other human being. We all have the choice to do whatever we want to anybody else. But the point of flawed characters in storytelling is the tension between those characters and their potential. Their growth into someone who can choose the higher, harder path, who chooses to be obligated to others, who chooses kindness and compassion.

Because Mizu's problem isn't revenge. Nobody is preaching at Mizu that revenge isn't the answer. Her circumstances do suck, her life has been incredibly unfair, she is marginalized, and as far as we and Mizu know for most of the season, she is a child born of violence and no one is saying that that violence doesn't deserve to be repaid in kind.

Mizu's problem is isolation. And the fact that she thinks she has no responsibility toward her fellow human beings, because her hatred of her own circumstances and her having no life outside of her quest devours everything else. This is a problem because it turns Mizu into the worst version of herself. A version that hurts the people who like Mizu, the people who care about her.

Practically, Mizu has just taken on an entire army almost by herself. She's hurt. She's exhausted. If she were to defend Akemi now, it'd be yet ANOTHER fight, this time against horsed and armored samurai.

But that's not the reason Mizu gives Ringo. Mizu's ability or willingness to fight isn't even on her mind. All she says is, "She's better off."

"She's better off" is Mizu deciding what's best for Akemi. Akemi's entire story is about her being a caged bird longing to fly free.

One after the other, every man and woman in Akemi's life makes her decisions for her. She has to grovel and smile prettily and lie through her teeth just for the chance to be heard. Mizu judges Akemi for being a rich princess who isn't being more grateful for what she has, all without understanding Akemi's situation, and without any curiosity for why Akemi feels the way she does. From Akemi's perspective, Mizu is just one more person (one more man!) in a long lineup who ignores Akemi's wishes and (casually!) makes a decision for her that impacts Akemi's life greatly.

In the end, even Seki concludes that Akemi should get to decide what's best for Akemi. What others think that Akemi SHOULD want does not matter compared to what Akemi wants for her own life. As Madame Kaji said - Madame Kaji, who despite calling out the weirdness of Akemi's situation as well as the childishness of her decision to run away - is the only person Akemi meets who doesn't try to make decisions for Akemi, but instead only challenges Akemi to work for and be worthy of what she wants - she needs to decide what she wants for her own fucking self, and then take it.

Mizu being born female does not make her automatically wiser for letting Akemi be taken, and it does not preclude her from having a hand in giving Akemi back to her jailers. A patriarchy that Mizu knows full well would stop Mizu from achieving her own goals if she didn't present as male.

Mizu is still understandable here. She just had to kill Kinuyo, a disabled girl sold by her father into prostitution, a girl in a situation so far beyond Akemi's worst imaginings that I can practically feel Mizu's world being rocked just by comparing them in her mind the way she most likely is. That still doesn't make it right for Mizu to let Akemi be carried off to be sold into marriage by her father against her wishes. Those "good options" Mizu thinks Akemi has don't exist, no more than they ever existed for Mizu. Akemi and Mizu both have to get creative, make the best of their circumstances, take dangerous risks, and break rules in order to have any control over their own lives.

Even on my first watch, when at first I thought that Mizu had made the right decision and that Akemi was being unreasonable, Akemi screaming Mizu's name while being dragged, LITERALLY DRAGGED, back to her father was haunting as hell.

Mizu had the power to help Akemi, and simply chose not to.

Mizu lets Akemi be taken, Akemi who has just begun to trust Mizu. Mizu calls Ringo weak and quickly - seemingly easily - turns her back on him. Mizu values her quest over Taigen's life, after Taigen has endured days of torture to protect her, and she not only risks his life in the process, but doesn't tell him that Akemi is engaged to someone else, or that she came looking for Taigen, or that she is in danger.

Mizu's sword breaks because it is too brittle. Too pure. Too singleminded. Mizu only melts down the meteorite metal when she mixes the metal with objects from parts of her life that have nothing to do with her quest. Objects from the people she cares about, and who care about her.

All I'm saying is - Mizu doesn't have to be a hero. But she is the better version of herself when she reaches out to help and connect with others. When she's just a decent, kinder human being. And I think that's what this story is telling us that we should want for Mizu.

[astonmartinii]

first impressions matter | george russell social media au

pairing: georgerussell x reader

george is meeting y/n's dad for the first time and all hell breaks loose

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, mickschumacher and 31,634 others

yourusername: pops finally had the time off from his busy busy life to visit his one daughter (he was only in a good mood cause verstappen won)

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username wait ur telling me george's gf is a max fan

yourusername i am a george fan first and foremost but my dad is staunchly orange army... it's a point of contention

georgerussell63 can't wait to see you guys soon!

yourusername i miss you baby i'll be back in a couple days

username WAIT george hasn't met papa y/ln yet?

landonorris he's too scared

georgerussell63 wrong !! falsehoods !! he's a busy and important man

alexalbon you had your blood pressure tested after talking to him on the phone ...

f1

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 501,761 others

tagged: georgerussell63, maxverstappen1

f1: these two line up 1 and 2 in baku, who do you think comes out on top in the first corner?

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username wait isn't y/n's dad here this weekend? george better back off if he wants to live

landonorris i just sit back and observe

alexalbon i got $20 on george getting dumped this weekend

danielricciardo yeah i back this

username y'all see george's face when he realised he'll actually have to not hit someone ?

yourusername i have faith, proud of you georgie

georgerussell63 thank you !! finally someone believes in me in this comment section

yourusername any bullshit with max and my dad said he'll disown you before you can even join the family

maxverstappen1 i just watched him fall to his knees (say hi to your dad for me)

f1teaspill

liked by 12,566 others

f1teaspill: it all went off after the sprint when george russell and max verstappen came together, do you think george was being a "dickhead"?

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username get me a netflix camera in the y/ln household stat

username i was sat in the same grandstand as y/n's dad and that man actually nearly fainted

username i can't be the only one thinking that you guys are all just being a bit dramatic like people can separate sport from their own personal lives

username was george in the wrong? who the fuck cares i love the drama

username you guys know y/n wouldn't joke about the situation if it was really that deep

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, lewishamilton and 41,778 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: favourite boys in the whole wide world

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username i hate the way any joke in this sport immediately has to become an attack y'all hate fun

georgerussell63 was a pleasure to finally meet the man, the myth and the legend

yourusername welcome to the family georgie xx

username this is so so cute y/n is so lucky !!

alexalbon get in there russell always knew you could do it

georgerussell63 you literally asked me for my car collection in my will before i left for dinner

alexalbon is the offer still open?

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 712,458 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: i think i finally passed the family initiation

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username now see why did y'all try to ruin this, this is cute as shit

username peep the signed max pic in the back though orange army stay winning

yourusername the pasta won him over i think

georgerussell63 i think it was much more than that

username now what does this mean....

username they know something we don't and i don't like it

yourusername

liked by f1, maxverstappen1 and 101,564 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: now we've all finally gotten round to meeting we can officially announce that the russell-y/ln family is about to get just a little bit bigger x

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username OMG DAD!GEORGE INCOMING

landonorris congrats you two

maxverstappen1 congratulations !!

username i cannot express how much i am not chill about this

alexalbon bagsy god father - congratulations xx

username the way they kept it a secret so long so they could tell y/n's dad in person

lewishamilton looking forward to meeting the little one

note: this is a real random one but lol i found it fun - also thinking of making one of those "buy me a coffee" accounts if anyone wanted to nice a struggling student xx

[glossgojo]

picture perfect guy

rooster x afab!reader | 2.5k words

summary: it’s not like you ever forget your boyfriend is strong but seeing it so blatantly displayed makes you dizzy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, strength kink (?), sweat kink (if u squint), size kink, man-handling, no protection don’t be like them, p in v sex, reader is down bad, secret relationship, big dick rooster, he’s just big in general, shorter reader, reader works in the navy, lowkey power dynamics where reader is higher up, rank kink, pet names (girl, baby, etc), fuck the army in more ways than one

you heard what happened in the simulation, working at top gun meant that the pilot training was of utmost importance. no one knew about your relationship and you wanted to keep it that way until the mission ended.

you made your way to the tarmac, wanting to see your boyfriend and your friends doing their punishment. in fairness as maverick’s right hand you had valid reason to make sure they did as told. your boots hitting the sweltering pavement as you made out your boyfriend doing push ups. you were sure his hands were burning up and his body was screaming from exhaustion, you grew closer seeing hondo watching them. you did your best to pay equal attention to phoenix and bob but failed completely as you heard rooster grunting. sweat beaded down his forehead and his skin shined under the sun, a sheen of perspiration on his muscular arms. you swallowed down hard, tearing your gaze from him as you looked to hondo for a count, he looked at you with a wry look and yelled out, “150.”

“i can take over, it’s hot as hell out here.” you elbowed him, he shot you a smile before counting once more and giving you an appreciative nod of the head. your eyes quickly returned to rooster. he grunted once more, moving up and down only looking up when you yelled out the next number. his furrowed brows and glare dissipated like a lovestruck puppy as he met your eyes, you shook your head to dissuade him, to try and make his response less obvious. luckily you turned to find hondo already walking away. bob and phoenix were too busy fighting the ache in their arms to notice or care. it wasn’t like you were the best actors in the world, hangman made countless jokes at the expense of both of you until you reminded him of your rank. you continued counting not missing how bradley’s eyes never seemed to leave you. he was sneaking glances as much as he could, even craning his head as you walked towards bob when you noticed him slacking off. “eyes forward rooster,” you didn’t have to look at him to see his eyes squarely planted on your ass.

you knew your boyfriend was strong, but times like this reminded you just how strong. your rooster, your bradley was mostly gentle with you. when you first started dating you had no idea just how his training affected him, even saying that you were too heavy to sit on his lap. you still remember his slightly offended expression as he tugged you onto his lap and said, “baby i could bench two of you, are you trying to hurt my feelings?” his words, just like they did the first time he said it, made your stomach drop and your thighs squeeze together. you wanted him so badly, wanted him to break you. you knew you were being unfair, the man was 165 push-ups deep in the sweltering california heat. it didn’t stop your greedy eyes from raking over his frame once again, his back muscles bulging through his black shirt as he strained them. you felt your heartbeat pick up and move south. this was torture, for all parties involved. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your uniform, it was lower than you’d usually wear in the base but the only person who had their eyes on you was bradley. the remaining push-ups went as well as they could’ve, all three lieutenants struggling against their bodies grunting and groaning as they struggled through. when it was finally over bob collapsed to the ground, welcoming the hot pavement against his skin. phoenix and rooster shakily stood. you told them both good work, offering bob a hand up which he refused. “just need to catch my breath.” you nodded and threw him a water bottle from the cooler nearby. rooster and phoenix helped themselves to the drinks. phoenix said something about needing to wash up which you nodded dumbly at not really listening when your stupidly handsome boyfriend was drinking down water like his life depended on it, water dribbling down his chin. your eyes tracked the drops as they ran down his neck and under his shirt, you so badly wanted to lick them off, feel the cool liquid against your lips but most importantly feel skin on yours. you felt an inexplicable urge to just lick him clean, you’d blame it on the heat. your entire body burned with a need for him, to taste him to drink him in, to have him. bradley groaned as he finished off his bottle, your mouth slightly agape when he caught your stare and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. his eyes flashed from confusion to all knowing, he could practically feel the desire radiating off you.

“lieutenant bradshaw, are you done for the day?” you should’ve known the answer, he was under your jurisdiction after all, but your mind couldn’t recall anything about today besides his arms and back. bradley licked his lips, feeling himself grow half-hard at the use of his rank. his breath was shallow as he spoke next.

“i’ll be leaving in 15 minutes after i shower.” his eyes flick down to your opened collar you’d forgotten about that until his wide brown eyes seemed to get wider at the sight. you buttoned up, noticing the small pout to his lips. it truly was a miracle the entire base didn’t know due to how obvious your boyfriend was.

“what a coincidence so will i.” you said, shooting him a small smile before heading off towards the base. you heard him running up to your side, following you back inside.

15 minutes later exactly, you found bradley waiting for you next to his truck. he opened the door for you and you put your hand over his as you entered. you both agreed after almost being caught in your office not to do anything physical on the base. that meant as soon as you were off the base, his hand slid onto your bare thigh, you’d changed into a sundress just like he changed into shorts and his usual hawaiian shirt. you were already so desperate for him, his rough large hand covered your thigh and you squirmed in your seat. the drive to bradley and your’s place felt longer than usual, neither of you breaking the silence. after what felt like years you both entered your home, tugging bradley to you by his shirt, your lips finding his as you leaned up onto your toes. he gasped into your mouth, his mustache tickling against you, his arms encircled your waist and you moaned at the feeling. his arms had driven you insane all day and now they were squeezing you like you were nothing. bradley pulled back at the noise, shocked at how you were so gone from a kiss alone, not knowing your train of thought. you leaned back, moving your arms from around his neck to touch his arms, you trailed them up and down feeling the muscle there as bradley watched you, slowly piecing the puzzle together.

“is my girl all worked up from watching me work-out?” his voice was hushed, heavy with want and you felt heat surge between your thighs as he aptly deduced what had you so dizzy.

“you’re so strong, so big, God bradley.” your hands trailed up his arms, to the broadness of his shoulders, traveled to his back to feel the raw power there too. bradley couldn’t help but let that comment get to head as he took in your dazed expression and smirked. at times like this he wondered how he got so lucky. he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around your waist as your chest pressed against his. he could feel all of you now, you could feel his hard-on against your stomach. you looked up at his eyes, finally tearing them away from his body. you whimpered as he lifted you clean off the floor, not even flinching or breaking eye contact. you were a doll in his hold, propped up so he could get a good look at you, finally eye level with him. your breathing got shallower, and bradley had confirmed all he needed to know, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom.

bradley easily threw you on the bed, stealing the air from your lungs as you crawled up the bed. he pulled his shirt off, his tank to go next, only his dog tags against his bare toned chest. your cheeks flushed as his gaze met yours, his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown wide surrounded by hazel. you were sure you weren’t any different. “pretty, always so fucking pretty.” he murmured, in a daze just like you, wrapping a hand on your ankle and pulling you towards him, at the edge of your bed. his strength, the way he easily threw you around, made your thighs clench and bradley didn’t miss it this time. smirking as he hovered over you, pulling you by the back of your head to kiss him. he pulled back only to kiss your neck, then your collarbone, before he was pushing your sleeve down, ripping the seam in the process, making you hiss. too fucking strong and too fucking desperate for you, you were choking back a moan but didn’t want to egg him on.

“roo! i like this dress.” you gasped as he continued to kiss you, unwavered by your torn sleeve. you half wondered if you could sew it up, your thought being cut off when his teeth scraped against the top of your breast.

“i’ll buy you a new one doll.” you whined in response as he pulled the front of your dress down, cupping your breasts over your bra. you pushed at his chest, not even moving him but he moved back as you pulled the dress over your head. he quickly unclasped your bra and his kisses turned to bites, one hand kneading one breast as the other teased your nipple. his lips bit and sucked at each nipple, blowing air on it to make it even more sensitive. meanwhile you were bucking under his hold, begging for more, begging for him to touch you.

“please bradley, please,” your pleas were falling on dead ears as he sucked and pinned you down. you had to pull out the big guns. “please lieutenant bradshaw touch me.” his eyes snapped back to your face, his teeth dragging off your tender nipple.

“i’m touching you now.” his hands were circling your waist, keeping you in place. his tone was teasing, he knew what you needed but he wanted you to beg.

“please just fuck me.” and that’s all it took, bradley never was one for dragging things out. you both were already aching for each other. he lifted you up and instead of pushing you further up, he was lifting you clean off the bed, to stand. you legs wrapped around his waist and his hands lifted you up by the underside of your thighs. you looked at him to try and understand what he was doing until one hand left your thigh and you heard his fly unzip. he was gonna fuck you while standing, while supporting your entire weight. you were sure you had soaked through your underwear, bradley would know anyways since his member was freed and poking against your clothed entrance. bradley pushed your underwear to the side, it made you feel even filthier than you did now. bradley cursed under his breath, rubbing his head against you, collecting the slick there and coating his member with it. you whined and twitched as his tip caught against your clit. you’d start dripping on your hardwood floor if he didn’t fuck you already.

“ready baby?” you nodded enthusiastically with hooded eyes, one of your hands playing with his chain as he pushed the tip in. you gasped at the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you, you’d never get used to how fucking big he was. he stretched you wide and filled you all the way up. he slowly pushed in, letting you adjust like always. you pressed a kiss to his lips as you looked down with a slight nod for him to move.

maybe you shouldn’t have made your newfound affinity for his strength so blatant, because bradley lifted you up and plunged you back down so viciously you saw stars. his tip bruised your cervix and you swear you could feel the veins on his cock stamp your walls. you were clenching around him, the sounds of your slick pouring out of you and the slap of skin against skin filled the room making your head spin. bradley never let up his pace, his breathing growing shallow as he used like a sex toy. “fuck bradley, s-so deep.” you whined out, leaning your forehead against his. you felt his was wet with sweat and you clenched at the memory of him from earlier today. you watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his head and this time you caught it with your tongue. bradley lost any self control he was holding onto at that.

“you’re killing me baby.” his pace grew brutal, turning you into a babbling mess as he began thrusting up while still hammering you on his cock. you grabbed onto his hair, grabbed his arms his shoulders, dug your nails into his back and clawed, anything you could do to ground yourself. nothing stopped the earth-shattering pleasure from washing over you in waves. everything felt sensitive, your nipples erect as they ground against him from every thrust. you felt yourself close and you knew bradley was too, could feel him tensing up under you. with one final thrust, he came inside filling you past the brim, his cum mixed with yours leaking out the side. you came with him, twitching in his hold as he fucked you both through it, milking him for all he had. he never moved you off as he walked you both to bed, lying you down, spooning you from behind. the angle let him stay inside, not letting anything leak, just like you both liked.

“so the push-ups huh?” bradley whispered against the shell of your ear, pulling your underwear off finally and hugging you closer. his dick going even deeper.

“uh huh, you looked too damn good lieutenant.” at the mention of his rank, you felt his dick twitch and you couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. you both were insatiable. it wasn’t long before you were worked up again, bradley filling you up and proving just how strong he was all over again.

a/n: possibly my filthiest one-shot to date? that can easily be beaten but something about sweaty bradley bradshaw makes me FERAL…. i will not be taking questions ab it <3

[grison-in-space]

Currently rereading Eric Flint's 1632 and reflecting on just how influential Flint was to me and my approach to both praxis and politics as a teenager. I found Flint when I was about thirteen or fourteen, around the time I found Pratchett I think, and he's left an equally wide thumbprint on my soul. Isn't that the most wonderful thing about stories, that people you've never met can help shape our adult selves? Mother of Demons I often recommend for its SFF worldbuilding--Flint built a species with at least four genders, only some of which are reproductive, and associated "normal" sexual orientations, and then proceeded to write in a textually intersex character and queer the hell out of it.

1632, though, is the one where a little West Virginia town in 2000 gets picked up and dropped in the middle of Thuringia, Germany in the eponymous year--right in the middle of the Thirty Years War. The local United Mine Workers of America chapter plays a major role, particularly its head.

As I write this I'm listening to the scene where the little town of Grantville, having admitted after a few days that they are probably not ever going home, is crowded into the high school gymnasium listening to the mayor lay that reality out and suggesting an interim council to help the town set out a sort of constitutional convention so they can work out what on earth they're going to do moving forward--especially since there's a bunch of displaced refugees collecting in the forests nearby. Sensible of them, really; the Americans murdered the shit out of the local soldiers that displaced them, on account of how the shaken mine workers that went out to figure out WTF happened not being super down with suddenly running into a bunch of fuckheads raping the locals and torturing people to find out where their valuables might be. After that, said Americans proceeded to retreat into the town boundaries and gibber quietly to themselves. I would go lurk in their woods, too.

Anyway, the mayor sets up this proposal, everyone agrees, and a CEO who was visiting for his son's wedding at the time steps forward and says: look. I know how to lead, and I'm probably the most qualified person here. I lead a major industry corporation effectively and I did that after my time as a Navy officer. I put myself forward because I'm qualified. Now, we're going to need to circle the wagons to get through the winter, tighten our belts, but we can get through this. We can't support all these refugees, though; we'll have to seal the border so they can't bring disease--they're a drain on our resources we can't afford--

and the UMWA guy, he gets really mad listening to this. There's this Sephardic refugee woman he's real taken with who got swept up in the town first thing, and she's sitting in and listening; he's thinking about throwing her out, thinking about how much she knows about the place they're found in, and he's furious. But he gets a good grip on his anger and he marches up and he says, look. This dude has been here two days and he's already talking about downsizing?! You're going to listen to this CEO talking about cuts, cuts, cuts? Nah. Trying to circle the wagons is probably impossible, it's stupid, and if you think my men and I are going to enforce that, you can fuck off. That proposal is inside out and bass ackwards. We've got about a six mile diameter of Grantville here; how much food do YOU think we're going to grow? How about the soldiers wandering around, do you think we're going to be able to fight armies off on our lonesome? Look at the few refugees we already have in the room, they'll tell you how those armies will treat you! We could do it for a while, the amount of gun nuts here, but so what? We don't have enough people to shoot them! Not if we're going to do anything else to keep us going! We have about six months of stockpiled coal to keep going, and without another source or getting the coal mines working, we're screwed. We have technical strength but we don't have the supplies or resources we would need to maintain it. Those refugees? They're resources. We need people to do the work we will need to keep ourselves. The hell with downsizing; let's grow outwards! Bring people in, give them safety, see what they can bring to the table once they've had a moment! He invokes: send us your tired, your poor!, and the CEO yells in frustration: this isn't America! so he yells back "it will be!"

And of course everyone cheers. I love Flint for many reasons but he is unapologetic about affection for the America of ideals--ideals, he freely admits, that are often honored in the breach rather than the observance, ideals that are messy and flawed, but nevertheless ideals that can work to inspire us to become the best version of ourselves. For Flint, history is as valuable as a source of stories to inspire ourselves as it is a repository of knowledge, and on this I tend to agree with him. We must learn from our moments of shame but equally we must learn from moments that show us how to be our best selves.

It's been twenty three years and the text is now an interesting historical document in its own right, hitting points and rhythms in beats that are sometimes out of place today. It's not perfect. But the novel contains a commitment to joy and to emphasizing the leaps of faith and understanding that regular, everyday people make every day to try and support each other that I routinely try to match in my writing.

Anyway, one of the strengths of the novel, I think, is its gender politics: it's a very ensemble kind of novel, lots of characters, and it's preoccupied with positive masculinity in a lot of ways. There's a lot of these hyper masculine characters--Mike Stearns perhaps more than anyone else--and--and...

... And Flint's characterization of Stearns, as he sketches out who the man is--his pivotal American leader, ex boxer, working class organizer, big man.... well, it lands equally on "he is delighted and astonished to find a local woman who quickly assesses how the cushion of air in tires works," and "he considers who to set up a Jewish refugee in the middle of Germany up with and he thinks to ask the Jewish family he grew up with to host her and her ill father because he thinks she'll be most comfortable there", and "he views people as potential assets rather than potential drains." A younger man asks him for advice on whether to pursue a professional sports career because of the boxing and he says no, you're in the worst place of not being quite good enough and you'll blow out your knees without accomplishing safety. He frames that interaction such that he allows his own experiences to make him vulnerable and invite the younger man to understand when a struggle have worth it.

It's actually a really deft portrayal of intense masculinity that also makes a virtue of a bunch of traits more usually associated with women: empathy, relational sensitivity, the ability to listen. As a blueprint for what a positive masculinity can look like, vs the toxic kind, it's very well done. I think sometimes when we look at gender roles in terms of virtues, and when masculinity is defined in terms of opposition to femininity, people get lost by arguing that virtues assigned to one gender are somehow antithetical to another gender. In fact that's never been the case: virtues are wholly neutral and can appear in any gender. What the gender does is inflect the ways we expect that virtue to appear in terms of individuals' actions within their society.

Gender isn't purely an individual trait, basically; it's a product of our collective associations. Two characters with different genders can display the same virtues and strengths, but we imagine them expressed in different ways according to our cultural expectations around gender. And I just think that's neat.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hey hun ☺️

just read your new Bucky barnes fic (the one with the pinup girl) and it gave me an idea.

what abt Steve Rogers (the 1940s one) meeting {and fucking} his celebrity crush who he has fantasised about and been in love with since FOREVER and she was like the only girl he ever thought about back when all the girls buck set him up with would reject him (If that makes sense, like she gave him hope or sm)

🥰🥰

Better Than Fantasies » Post Serum Steve Rogers

Pairings: Post Serum Steve Rogers x Celebrity!Female Reader

Summary: Steve’s fantasies are way better than he imagines when he meets his celebrity crush.

Warnings: mix of Fluff and Smut (18+), language, alcohol, flirting, kissing, hickeys, blowjob, unprotected sex, riding, praise kink, size kink, Steve’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I hope you don’t mind that I choose to write this with Post Serum Steve Rogers cause that’s how I imagined it🥰

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Steve knew who you are the second he seen you. He stopped in his tracks when he seen you talking to Peggy. Bucky walked up next to him, furrowing his eyebrows when he seen his best friend in a daze.

“What are you staring at?” Bucky asks him.

“Her.” Is all Steve said.

Bucky followed Steve’s gaze to you. He smirks to himself, knowing who you are as well. You’re Steve’s celebrity crush.

“What’s she doing here?” Steve asks curiously.

“I don’t know.” Bucky shrugs his shoulders.

Steve’s eyes widened and his heart began pounding when you started walking towards him. Bucky watched as Steve smoothed out his uniform and fixed his hair.

“Here’s two more of our soldiers.” Peggy tells you. “This is Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes. Boys, this is Y/N Y/L/N.” She introduced you to them. “I’m sure you two have heard of her.” She says.

“It’s very nice to meet you guys!” You say with a smile, holding out your hand for them to shake.

Bucky shook your hand while Steve continued to stare at you in awe. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He thought he’d never get a chance to meet you, but here he is right now. Bucky gently elbows Steve in his side to snap him out of his thoughts.

“You have to forgive him. He’s a big fan of yours.” Bucky says.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled at him. “Peggy said she’s going to show me around the base, but I would love to hangout with you if that’s ok.” You say.

“That’s more than ok with me.” Steve says, feeling his cheeks heat up.

You gave him a smile before following Peggy for a tour of the Army base.

“She wants to hangout with me.” Steve says to himself. “She wants to hangout with me!” He says again, a smile growing on his face.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile, happy that his best friend might be able to have a chance with a girl. He set him up with girls, but they always rejected him. That was before he got the serum.

Later that day, Steve and Bucky went to a bar after a day of training. Heads turned when you walked in the bar. Steve turned around, smiling when he seen you. You made eye contact with him and smiled, making your way over to him.

“Hi, Steve.” You say with a smile, taking a seat next to you.

“Hi, Y/N.” Steve says, smiling.

“Hi, Bucky.” You say.

“Hi, Y/N.” Bucky stood up. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He says, winking at Steve before walking away.

You ordered yourself a drink and sat back down at the table with Steve.

“So Steve…” You took a sip of your drink. “Tell me about yourself.” You say.

Steve looked at you for a moment, blinking a couple times. This is the first time a girl has ever wanted to get to know him.

“Umm well…” Steve starts. “I grew up in Brooklyn, New York with Bucky.” He says.

“That’s it?” You asked.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “This is the first time a girl asked to get to know me. Girls have rejected me a lot in the past.” He says, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

“Hey…” You put a hand on top of his. “You have nothing to apologize for.” You tell him in almost a whisper. “Besides those girls are missing out.” You say.

A smile formed on Steve’s lips.

“I like you. That’s all that matters.” You smiled at him. “Wanna get out of here?” You asked.

“Yes!” Steve says a little too fast.

You stood up, holding your hand out for him which he happily took in his. You two walked out of the bar hand in hand, making your way to his bunk.

“Nice poster.” You say, smiling when you seen a poster of you on his wall.

“Bucky got it for me for my birthday last year.” He tells you.

“That’s nice of him.” You say with a smile.

Awkward silence filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say to you. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

“So Steve…” You walked towards him, making him walk backwards. “We both know that we didn’t come here to talk.” You say.

“We-” His back hit the closed door behind him. “We didn’t?” He says more like a question.

“Let me ask you something…” Your hand grasped his tie, making his breath hitch in his throat. “Have you ever kissed a girl, Captain?” You asked.

“No.” He answers, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

You gave his tie a tug, pulling him down just enough for you to kiss him. Steve was caught by surprise, but he kissed you back. His hands found their way to your waist. Your free hand roamed his body, stopping on his bulge. Steve slightly jumped at your boldness.

“Wait a second…” Steve breathes, pulling away from your lips.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m- I’m a virgin.” He tells you, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

“Oh god…” You took your hand off of his bulge. “I’m so sorry.” You apologized. “I didn’t mean to overstep.” You say.

“It’s ok.” He assures. “If I’m being honest, I have been fantasizing about this.” He tells you. “Kissing you and more.” He says.

“Tell me about the more part, Captain.” You say, biting your bottom lip.

“You on your knees, sucking my… cock.” His cheeks turned even more red. “Then we get on my bed and have sex.” He says.

“Lucky for you, Captain, I can make those fantasies come true.” You seductively said. “Only if you want to.” You say.

“Yes please.” He says.

You sunk down to your knees. You looked up at him, waiting for permission to go further. He nodded his head, meeting you know you can go further. You unbuckled his belt and undid his dress pants, pulling his pants down just enough for his hard cock to spring out. Your eyes widen at his size. You wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped it in your hand, swiping your thumb over his tip to use his precum as a lubricant while looking up at him with an innocent look on your face. A small moan fell from Steve’s lips. You wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking on it a little before moving your mouth further down on his cock. You bobbed your head while your hand pumped what couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Oh my god…” Steve moans, loving the feeling of your mouth.

Steve felt like he was in another world. He couldn’t believe this was happening. His celebrity crush on her knees and sucking his cock. He never thought this would happen. This is the farthest he’s ever been with a girl. He knows one thing, he loves what’s happening in this very moment.

Steve was snapped out of his thoughts when you took his cock out of your mouth and licked from the base of his cock to his tip. You also licked along the veins of his cock. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you did that.

“Fuck…” He moans. “Do that again.” He says.

You obeyed him and did it again. A moan of your name left his lips when you did that. He watched closely as your tongue swirled around his cock. Your tongue swirled around his tip, making him want more. Your hand pumped his cock as you continued your actions with your tongue. Steve felt his orgasm building up sooner than he liked.

“I-I’m close.” Steve stutters through a moan.

You put his cock back in your mouth and sucked his cock like your life depends on it. He was getting closer and closer to the edge when a loud moan of your name left his lips as he came in your mouth. Steve leaned against the door panting while you stood up from the floor, your knees red from being on the floor for so long. Steve’s eyes were filled with lust as he looked at you.

Steve got a confidence boost and kissed you hungrily. You moaned against his lips. He pushed the straps of your dress off of your shoulders and pulled your dress off your body, letting it pool around your feet. One of Steve’s hands went behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall from your chest. He picked you up and walked you over to his bed, gently laying you down.

“How’s it fair that I’m almost naked and you’re not?” You say with a playful pout.

Steve chuckles before standing up and took off his clothes. He spread your legs and hovered over you. His Army dog tags were dangling above you. You grasped on the chain and pulled him down for another hungry kiss. His lips moved to your neck. You gasped when you felt his teeth nip at your skin hard enough for a hickey. He kissed his way down your body, stopping at the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you for permission. You lifted your hips, giving him permission. Steve hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs, dropping them on the floor by his bed. He kissed your inner thighs, getting closer to where you need him most. A shiver went through your body when you felt his breath on your pussy.

Steve paused for a moment, not sure what to do next. He licked his lips at the sight of your wet pussy. He knows one thing… he’s always wondered what you taste like. His tongue gave your pussy a curious lick, moaning at your taste. A moan left your lips when he did that. He did it again, earning another moan from you. His tongue licked from your entrance to your clit. He swirled his tongue in circles around your clit. Steve knew he was doing something right when you kept moaning his name. He decided to take it a step further. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it while his tongue moved against your folds. Your hands found their way to his head, tugging on his hair.

“Oh Steve!” You moaned.

Your moans encouraged Steve. His tongue moved faster against your folds. One of his arms unwrapped from your thigh, bring his fingers to your pussy. He slowly slid one finger inside of you, groaning when he felt your tightness around his finger. You moaned when you felt his finger moving along your walls.

For Steve’s first time making a woman feel good, he’s aced it. You felt like you were on top of the world with the way he was making you feel in this very moment. You learned something new about him in that moment, he’s skilled with his fingers and tongue. Your curiosity was peaked. You let your mind wander. You were wondering what his cock felt like inside of you. Your thoughts were cut short when Steve unexpectedly slid another finger in your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Steve!” You moaned more in a whine.

Steve’s eyes glanced up at you, watching as pleasure took over your body. His other arm let go of your thigh and slid his hand up your body, stopping at your breasts. His thumb rubbed over your nipple before pinching it. A moan left your lips and a tingling sensation went through your body. He repeated his actions with your other breast, earning the same reaction from you. You arched your back off the bed in pleasure, pushing your breasts more into his hand.

“Oh yes, fuck!” You moaned loudly when his fingers hit your sweet spot. “Right there!” You tell him, followed by a moan.

Steve’s fingers continued to hit your sweet spot while his mouth worked on your clit and his free hand stayed on your breast. Soon enough, your orgasm was building up. Rather quickly you might add.

“I’m so close!” You moaned.

His name left your lips as you came, soaking his face and fingers. Steve pulled his fingers out of your pussy and sat up, hovering over you. You stared up at him, trying to catch your breath.

“How- Where-” You were unable to form a coherent sentence as you tried to ask Steve where he learned to eat a girl out like that.

“If you’re wondering where I learned how to eat out a girl, Bucky told me how.” Steve says.

“Remind me to thank him later.” You giggled. “Now…” You used all of your strength to flip the two of you over so Steve was laying on the bed and you were on top of him, straddling him. “I want to make your fantasies come true.” You lean down to kiss him. “Only if you want to go any further.” You say, not wanting to pressure him into doing anything he doesn’t want to do.

“Please…” He begs. “I want this. I want you.” He says.

You kissed him once more before lifting yourself up and picked up his cock, lining it at your tight entrance. Both of you gasped, when you slowly sunk down on his cock. His tip only stretched your pussy. It hurt, but it also felt good. Steve watched intensely as his cock disappeared in your pussy. Steve groans softly, loving the tight feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. You on the other hand took a moment to adjust to his size.

“Don’t be afraid to get handsy with me, Captain.” You say seductively.

You placed your hands on Steve’s strong chest and moved up, only leaving his tip inside of you and slide back down. You rode him at a decent pace, not wanting to overwhelm him during his first time.

“Y-You can go faster if you want.” Steve stutters through a small moan.

You increased your speed just enough to get you two wanting more. Steve was mesmerized by your breasts bouncing as you rode him. He lifted his hands to your breasts and played with them as you rode him. Suddenly, Steve wrapped one of his arms around your waist and sat up, leaning his back against the headboard so he can mark up your breasts with hickeys. That created a new angle for the both of you.

“Oh fuck, Steve!” You moaned.

One of Steve’s hands was occupied with your breasts while his free hand roamed your body, stopping on your ass and gave your ass cheek a squeeze. You playfully gasped at his actions. You leaned your head down and placed your lips on his neck, marking him up.

“There.” You pulled away from his neck, grinning as a hickey slowly began to form on his skin. “Now everyone will know that you’re mine now.” You say, biting your bottom lip.

Steve moaned when you called him yours. It’s like he wants everyone to know that he belongs to you now.

“You like that?” You almost whispered. “You want everyone to know who you belong to?” You asked seductively.

Steve nodded his head eagerly. You bit your bottom lip as you put your hands on his strong shoulders, steadying yourself. Steve’s hand that was on your breasts wandered down to your ass. His hands grasped your ass cheeks and moved you faster on his cock. Loud moans left your lips at his actions. Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back, enjoying the pleasure. A small squeak left your lips when Steve pinched your ass cheek.

“Eyes on me.” He tells you. “I want you to look at me while you ride me.” He says confidently.

You looked in his beautiful blue eyes that are now filled with lust. You leaned down, kissing him sloppily. Your hands found their way to his head, your fingers tugging at his hair. He moaned at the feeling. You pulled away from his lips, tilting your head back and moaned when his cock hit your sweet spot.

“Yes! Fuck!” You moaned.

Steve knew he found your sweet spot again and smirked proudly. One of his hands found its way to where the two of you are connected and began to rub your clit in circles.

“You’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that!” You moaned, referring to his fingers rubbing your clit.

That was Steve’s goal. He applied a little bit of pressure on your clit as he continued to rub it causing your pussy to squeeze around his cock. Steve moaned at the feeling. You felt your beginning to build up the more he rubbed your clit. You felt your lower stomach tighten. It felt like a rubber band was about to snap inside of you.

“Stevie, I’m- mmm fuck!” You were cut off by a moan leaving your lips.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Steve says huskily.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan of his name left your lips as you came. Steve gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm which wasn’t too far behind yours. You could tell that he was getting closer to cumming from how sloppy his thrusts were as he thrusted up into you.

“I know you’re close.” You panted. “Cum for me, Stevie. Cum inside of me.” You say followed by a moan.

After a few more thrusts, Steve came inside of you. Your bouncing and his thrusts came to a slow stop. He carefully lifted you up, his cock sliding out of you, making you whine at the loss of his cock being inside of you. He carefully laid you down next to him and covered the two of you up with a blanket and wrapped his arm around you while you laid you laid your head on his chest, your fingers playing with his dog tags.

“That was way better than what I fantasized.” Steve says after a couple minutes of silence.

“I’m happy that I made your fantasies come true.” You say, leaning up to kiss his lips softly.

“Thank you for giving me a chance.” He says.

“I will always give you a chance, Stevie.” You say with a smile.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[ghouljams]

I got brain rot of Cowboy!König just being so fucking frustrated over his darling sometimes because she’s so sweet and trusting and just a bit naive so she does stupid things like leave her doors unlocked so he has to go and lock them for her just so that he has some peace of mind.

He will never know peace with Bee. Even when they get together she's the type of person to go, "Why would I worry about that? König will handle it." And he will but Christ woman, worry about something, please.

You are so interminably trusting it is bordering on insane. König twists the knob on your front door and sighs when it opens with little fuss. When you’d talked about how safe this town felt he really had hoped you didn’t mean it was “leave your door unlocked” safe. Apparently you had. He slid the door open enough to let himself in, and shut it quietly behind him.

He may as well, you practically left him an invitation after all. Stupid. Naive. You’re a woman living alone, shouldn’t you know better?

He thinks you keep your spare keys in your kitchen. Really you should have offered him one with how often you see each other, but it’s fine, he’ll grab one for himself and lock up while he’s at it. König is quiet searching your kitchen drawers, mindful of the clink of silverware as he eases each drawer open to look for your keys. It’s late enough that you should be dead asleep, but one can never be too careful. Nothing. He goes to check the table by the door, wincing at the creak of unoiled wood sliding against itself. He pauses, sliding his fingers carefully into the opening to feel for- yes, there it is.

A little ring with two pink metallic keys. He slides one off and takes a moment to put it on his own key ring before replacing the spare and sliding the drawer back into place. There, nothing left but to lock up. 

He hesitates, his hand on the front door waiting to open it. What is stopping him from leaving? No. What’s stopping him from staying? Your little orange cat winds its way around his legs, just as eager to see him as its mother always is. König bends down to scoop it up, feeling the rumble of its purr and scratching between its ears.

“Bringen wir dich zurück zu deiner Mutter,” He tells it with a low whisper. That’s what’s stopping him, he wants to see you. 

He knows where your room is, of course, up the stairs and at the end of the little hall. Your old floors may creak for you, but he’s never had any trouble. Your door is open, your windows are open, you are open. Sleeping soundly under the cool breeze from the ceiling fan, looking so sweet and soft, and vulnerable. 

This was the problem. You left yourself too vulnerable to threats. It’s just not healthy. What if something were to happen and he wasn’t here? He sets the cat down on the floor, and brushes a strand of hair off your face. Pretty. His pretty girl.

You make a soft noise as the cat jumps on the bed, and he- God- No, no, he has to go. He can’t stay. He can’t.

It is a long walk back to the front door, but he doesn’t forget to lock it behind him.

König is such a worry wart sometimes, you think it’s funny that a man his size is worried about safety. He looks like a one man army, but he always double checks that he locked his front door before he leaves. You just wait for him in the truck, eager to get to town and get your weekly shopping done. When he finally gets in the cab and turns the truck on, you catch a flash of pink hanging with the rest of his keys. It looks just like one of your house keys, but that can’t be right.

“Is that my key?” You ask, feeling something pull in your gut, König glances down at his key ring, “How did you get my key?”

“You gave me one, did you forget?” König says with a frown, “You said you needed someone to feed the cat when you go into the city.” You nod hesitantly, thinking. Did you give him a key? You do need someone to feed Spot when you have to make the trek out to civilization. 

“Huh, yeah I- Thanks for that, I guess.” If König says you asked him you must have. He’s got no reason to lie to you.