#who the fuck knows what tag I'm going to try when trying to find this post on the future

[jetii]

hello lovely!!! if you have the time for it with your follower celebration, i’d looooove #21 with hunter 🤭 or if you get too many reqs for him with howzer or wolffe! tysm, and congrats on this big milestone!!!! 💗💗💗💗

okay so i got a lot of requests for #21 so i'm trying to do something different for each! also a slightly different style than i'm used to with some slightly more unhinged smut. @a-cryptid-called-magetha come get your man

A Game

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 5,049

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, smut, friends with benefits to lovers, Frat Batch era Hunter, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, underwear kink?, the most dominant Hunter I'll ever write, he's still a simp tho

Prompt: 21. “Moan a little louder, cyare. Let all of 79s know who’s fucking you.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You’ve played this game a hundred times, so you know that when Hunter meets your eyes across the bar, you have a choice. You can walk over and talk to him, or you can ignore him. 

The first will take you on the route of the seducer. He’ll buy you a drink, and you’ll let him. You’ll let him slide his hands up your skirt, and you know where it ends.

You can already feel him behind you, his breath in your ear, his lips on your skin. You can hear him say the things he always says, the words that’ll make you feel like there’s no one else who has ever made you feel the way that he does. He won't be wrong.

Or, you can look away, and let him come to you. The seduced. It isn't like he won't find his way over. It isn't like he isn't always there. You'll pretend that you don't see him until you feel the heat of him right behind you, his presence filling the room, his hands on the back of your chair.

You'll pretend you're not thinking about him and what you could do with him. You'll pretend not to want it, because you know the game, and you know how to play it well.

You can tell yourself that you aren't going to give in. You're not going to let him kiss you, and touch you, and fuck you. But it's a lie. You are going to. And it infuriates you that you're still doing this. It makes you angry, and you can't quite figure out why.

You don't look at him again, because if you look at him, you'll be done for. It's not that you haven't had this conversation a thousand times. It's just that sometimes it feels like it's not a game anymore. It feels like something real, and you hate the part of you that wants to believe that. You hate the part of you that still lets you think that there's a chance.

So you don't look. And, even though he's the hunter, it's you who waits. It's you who watches. You don't have to turn your head to see him. You don't have to watch. You already know how it will play out. You're only here for the ending.

Hunter doesn't come to you right away. He takes his time, talking to his squad, pretending that he isn't watching you, pretending that he doesn't know exactly where you are. You know he can see the tension in your body. You can see it too, because you can't stop the way your hands clench, the way your thighs shift, the way your back straightens. You can't keep from turning your head to look at him.

It's then that he makes his move. He crosses the room to stand beside you, and the rest of the bar fades into the background. He doesn't touch you, doesn't even come close. Instead, he leans in and speaks, and his words are the ones that make you weak. "Let me get you a drink."

The thing is, you shouldn't let him. This isn't supposed to be happening. You aren't supposed to be here. Not with him.

"No." You shake your head. It's the first time you've ever said it, and you aren't sure how it feels. "I'm not interested."

He gives you a look, like maybe he doesn't understand what's happening, like he didn't expect to have to try this hard. Then, he looks down, and when his eyes meet yours again, you feel something shift. He knows.

His voice is different when he speaks, and he's so much closer now. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You nod, and it's not the first lie you've told tonight, but this one feels better, and so does the next one, the one where you tell him, "I have to go."

You leave the bar, and he doesn't follow. Not this time.

It's a good start.

The second time, you're not going to give in.

You don't know if you can say no again, but you have to try. Because there are things that matter. Things like love, and trust, and respect. There's a future.

You want that future. You want it more than anything, and that's what you have to remember.

Hunter walks in, and you think maybe he's going to ignore you. He’s talking with one of his brothers, the one that joined the Batch a few months back, and they seem engrossed in whatever they're talking about. You feel a flood of relief, and maybe a little disappointment.

But then, Hunter meets your eyes, and you realize that he hasn't forgotten. Across the floor, you're frozen in place, and all the things you should say, all the things you should do, have left your head. His eyes are dark, and the room is crowded, but somehow, it's like there's no one else here.

When he looks at you, it's like the whole world is falling away.

You're the first to break the contact, looking down and away, pretending you didn't see him. You feel a flush creeping up your neck, and you hope no one notices.

You can't do this.

You shouldn't do this.

It's the only thing on your mind as the music pounds through the speakers, and the crowd surges around you. It's all you can think about, and it's distracting, because you keep seeing him in your peripheral vision. It's like he's everywhere, and you can't escape.

You know that if you turn your head, he'll be there, and if he's there, then this will all be over. He'll come to you, and you'll let him. It will be like every other time, and you'll wonder why you tried, why you thought you could say no, why you thought it was worth a try.

He'll be there. You know he will.

You keep your head down, and your eyes averted. You focus on the lights and the music and the crowd. You focus on your feet, and your hands, and the glass in front of you. You don't think about Hunter.

Someone else approaches you. Not Hunter. Someone you don't know, and it's nice. This is the kind of thing you came here for. This is the distraction you needed.

You aren't sure why it makes you feel worse.

You go home alone.

The third time, Hunter comes to you, and it's over.

He doesn't wait. He doesn't ask. He's already got his arm around your waist, and his lips are pressed to your throat, and you've got no choice. There's no way to stop this, and no way to walk away.

"I missed you." He breathes the words into your ear, and there's no one else, not for a single moment, who could ever matter the way he does. You can't even remember what your life was like before him.

"You saw me a few days ago."

"It's not enough." His hands are in your hair, his hips pressed against yours. "Not anymore."

You have no answer to that. There's no reply.

Hunter pulls away, and he's still holding you, and when he speaks again, the words are low and urgent. "Don't make me beg. Please."

Your hand is on his chest, and you're not sure if you're trying to push him away or hold him closer. You've never heard him sound like this before, and it's something new. Something terrifying.

Something hopeful.

"Okay," you tell him.

Hunter exhales, and his arms tighten around you. He rests his forehead against yours, and there are a million things you want to say. You could say them. He might listen.

"Come on." He doesn't kiss you. He doesn't even let go. He just takes a step back, and you can't stop yourself from following. You know what's going to happen.

This is the part of the game you can't stop playing.

You aren't surprised when Hunter pulls you into the nearest darkened corner. He isn't gentle, and he doesn't stop moving. When you're alone, it's like he can't get close enough, can't touch you enough.

It's like this time, he wants to prove that he's still got a hold on you. That this hasn't changed.

It hasn't.

His lips are against your neck, and his fingers are digging into your hips. He's everywhere, and all you can think about is how this was a mistake. You knew it would be.

It's just that it's so hard to remember why.

“Hunter...” Your voice sounds strange, and Hunter lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are so dark, and the light from the main room glints off his tattoo.

When he meets your gaze, he stops. You see the realization cross his face, and it's not what you expected. You thought he'd keep going. You thought he'd push. You didn't think he'd care.

He doesn't speak, and neither do you. You're not sure how long you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

You don't say anything. There are no words. There's just him, and you, and the fact that, after all these months, the rules have changed.

For a moment, he almost looks scared, and you don't know what to say.

"I don't..." He looks away, and you can tell that he's struggling, trying to figure out what's happening, and what he's supposed to do. It's the first time you've seen him this unsure, and it's your fault.

"Hunter." This time, when you say his name, his eyes meet yours. He's not hiding anymore, and he's still touching you. You can still feel his breath on your face.

You've played this game a hundred times, but the stakes have never been higher.

"I can't."

Hunter frowns, and the confusion on his face is obvious. He doesn't understand. You're not sure if it's because he never believed that you could stop, or because he never expected that you would.

"You said—"

"I know what I said."

He takes a step back, and the space between the two of you is wide, and empty, and cold. The air is different without his hands on your skin.

"Did I do something?"

"No,” you say. You shake your head, and then, because there are some things you can't deny, you add, "Yes."

"Tell me." He's still standing so close, and when his voice drops, your breath catches. He puts his hand on your arm, and when he slides it up to your shoulder, his thumb grazes your collarbone. "Whatever it is, I can fix it. Tell me."

He's not listening, and he doesn't hear you. If he did, then this wouldn't be a problem.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

His hand freezes. "You don't want..."

"This," you say. You gesture to the space between the two of you. "This thing where we pretend that nothing's happening. It's not just sex anymore, Hunter. I'm not some random stranger. This means something."

He's still frowning, and you're not sure he gets it. "Of course it means something."

"No," you say. You're getting frustrated, and he still isn't letting go of you. "You don't get it. You need to take a step back, and we have to figure out what we're doing here. Because I can't do this, and—"

"What?"

"I can't have a casual relationship." The words are rushed, and quiet, and everything comes spilling out at once. "I can't have a sex-only, friends with benefits, no strings attached relationship. Not with you. I want more. I've wanted more since the day I met you."

Hunter opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He looks like you've hit him, and you want him to say something, to say anything. But he doesn't, so you speak for him.

"I can't keep pretending that it doesn't matter. I can't keep lying. It's too much." You take a deep breath. "So, no. I can't. Not anymore. We can't."

Hunter doesn't move. He doesn't say anything. He’s preternaturally still, and there are so many things you wish he would do, but this is not one of them.

It hurts more than you could have imagined, and it's more than you can bear. You feel like you can't breathe, and like the only thing holding you together is his hand on your arm. He's staring at you like he doesn't recognize you, and you have to look away.

It's only a moment, and then Hunter moves. His fingers drag up to your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to meet his eyes. You're caught. Held in place by the intensity of his gaze.

"You really don't know, do you?"

You blink. You aren't sure what to say, so you don't say anything.

"This isn't casual. Not for me,” he says, his voice rough, and his eyes search your face, like he's trying to make sure that you're understanding what he's saying.

You're not sure you are.

"I haven't touched anyone since the day we met." He pauses, and the words are like a blow, knocking the wind from your lungs. "Not anyone. Not ever."

He keeps talking, and you're not sure what's happening.

"I didn't lie. Not ever. I never told you how I felt, but that's not because I didn't care."

"Hunter..."

"You're not the only one who feels something," he says, and his voice is low, and desperate, and full of all the things you've never allowed yourself to believe. "There is no one else. There never was. Just you."

He's not playing the game anymore.

"I'm not pretending," he says. "This matters."

You can't speak. Your throat is tight, and your heart is pounding. You want to believe him, and it's almost too much.

"You—"

"Yes," Hunter says. He nods, and then he smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

He leans in, and you're frozen. You can't move. It's like the world has stopped.

"Do you understand now?" he asks, and he's close. So close.

"Yeah," you breathe.

Hunter's eyes close, and he exhales. "Good."

Then, his lips are on yours, and this isn't like any other kiss you've shared. This isn't a game. It's different. Everything is. It's like the first time, but better, because this time, you both know where you stand. This is a beginning, not an ending.

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, and his lips trail down your neck. "I thought... I didn't know."

"Me too," you whisper. "I didn't want to hope."

"I know." Hunter's hands slide under the hem of your shirt, and his fingers dig into your hips. His mouth is against your ear. "But, now, I want to know what else I've been missing."

"Me too," you say. "Stars, me too."

"Yeah?" He's still smiling, and he's not stopping, and you've never been more turned on. "You gonna show me, then?" 

"Oh, yes," you say. You guide him back with a gentle shove of his shoulders, but you don't let him go far. The door to the women’s restroom is right behind you, and without thinking, you grab the lip of his chest plate and drag him inside. He laughs as he follows you in, and the sound makes you smile, but then, he's not laughing anymore.

Hunter slams the door shut behind him, throwing the lock into place. You don't waste any time, pushing him back against the door, and he groans. He's already reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you've got other plans.

It's easy to slide to your knees, and when you reach for the buckle of his belt, Hunter's eyes are wide, and dark. His breath catches as you unlatch his codpiece, and toss it to the floor. You don't wait, pulling his cock free, and Hunter's head thunks back against the door.

"You don't have to—"

You take him into your mouth, and his words dissolve into a moan. It's been too long since the last time, and the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him, is better than you remember. The thick vein that runs along the underside is throbbing, and you press your tongue against it, feeling him twitch in your mouth.

He's already breathing hard, his hands on the door behind him, as though he's not sure what to do with them. He's got one foot braced against the tile, his hips shifting restlessly, and when you glance up, his eyes are closed, his mouth open, his face slack.

He's beautiful.

You don't have time to think about that, not with him filling your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat, his fingers threading through your hair. His hands are gentle, guiding, not pushing. You can feel his restraint, the way he's trying to hold himself still, the tension in his thighs as he rocks against you.

You hum, and Hunter gasps, his hips bucking, his cock thrusting deep. He hits the back of your throat, and you moan, and it's the first time that he tightens his grip, the first time that his voice breaks. "Oh, fuck."

His hand is cupping the back of your head, holding you close, and when he pulls back, the drag of your lips over his cock is obscene.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—"

You cut him off with a lick along the slit at the tip, and Hunter moans. He doesn't seem to be able to look away, his eyes glued to the sight of you on your knees, and the way his cock disappears into your mouth.

"Fuck, I've missed you."

You laugh, and the vibration of it makes Hunter shudder. He's shaking, and when he meets your eyes, his own are burning. "I mean it. You don't know what it was like. Watching you walk away."

You take him deeper, and his words come faster, like he's finally getting it out. "It's always like this. Every time I'm close to you, I can't think. The way you look, the way you feel, fuck, the way you smell."

His cock slips from your mouth, and you suck a line down the length, and then back up. He's leaking, and you lap at the salty tang of his release, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head. 

"All I can think about is burying myself inside of you, and fucking you until you're screaming. I don't know what you do to me, but it's too much."

He's rambling, and his fingers are tugging your hair. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he's shaking. "It's too much. It's always too much, and it's never enough."

You know exactly what he means. You can feel it every time he's near. It's a pull, a draw, and a need. There's a part of you that is always searching for him, that needs him closer, and closer still.

It's maddening.

"I can't stop wanting you."

You've never heard Hunter talk like this, and it makes you moan. The sound is muffled around his cock, and it's like the last of his self-control evaporates.

"Get up here."

He tugs your hair, and you can hear the urgency in his voice. He's not waiting. Not anymore.

His cock slides from your mouth, and his hand wraps around the back of your neck, hauling you to your feet. His lips are on yours, and the kiss is rough and biting, his tongue thrusting deep. You can taste him, and you can feel the way he's shaking.

You've never seen him like this, and it makes you want more. It's intoxicating, and addictive, and all you can think about is how much more he's going to give.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath. He's spinning you, and you're facing the sink, your hands gripping the edge. He doesn't ask as he rips his gloves off and tosses them into the sink, but you can see the question in his eyes. He doesn't have to.

You nod, and it's all he needs. Hunter's hands are on your waist, and then he's yanking your skirt up, and his fingers are sliding between your legs. He curses, and when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are glistening with your wetness.

“All this from my cock in your mouth, and I've barely touched you." His words are a low rumble, his breath warm against your ear. "Is this what you wanted? Me to take you hard and fast, so that anyone who walks in can hear how good I make you feel?"

Your thighs clench, and Hunter groans, his voice cracking. "Do you have any idea what it does to me, knowing that I'm the only one who can make you come like this?"

"You're the only one I want." Your voice is breathy, and uneven. You can't seem to get a full breath, not when he's looking at you the way he is, his fingers sliding between your folds.

He brings his hand to his lips, and licks his fingers clean, his eyes closed. He looks like he's savoring it, and you're transfixed. It's not until his hands are back on you, hooking into your panties and pulling them down, that you take in a gasp of air.

You watch as he kneels behind you, dragging your underwear down to your ankles. He lifts one foot, and then the other, pulling the soaked garment off. You don’t see where it goes, but you don’t hear it hit the ground. He doesn't drop it. Instead, he stands, and shoves it in one of his pockets, and when he looks at you, he smirks.

You aren’t sure what to say. It shouldn't turn you on. It does.

Hunter leans forward, and his cock slides along the cleft of your ass, and then lower. His lips are on your neck, and when his cock brushes against your clit, you gasp. You can't take much more of this.

You try to turn, but his hands are on your hips, and he's not letting you. His mouth is hot against your neck, and his lips are pressed to your ear.

"No." His voice is a rough growl, and you can hear the smile in his tone. "Stay."

It's not a request.

You freeze, and his teeth sink into your neck, making you cry out. He doesn't speak, and the only sound in the room is your breathing, and the soft, wet sounds of his cock sliding between your folds. He's rubbing the head against your clit, and it's almost too much. You can't stop moving, but the pressure on your hips keeps you still.

"Hunter,” you whimper, and the word is half plea, and half command.

He doesn't answer, and his breath is coming fast and shallow. His fingers are digging into your hips, and he's pressing his cock lower, and lower. You can feel him notch against your entrance, and he pauses, the both of you held in limbo.

"Please."

The moment stretches out, and then Hunter's hand is on the back of your neck, pressing you down. Your forehead hits the cool porcelain of the sink, and you can feel his fingers flex, and then his cock is pressing forward, and stretching you open.

You moan, and it's all you can do not to move. He takes his time, easing inside, and the feeling of him filling you, the sensation of being stretched and filled and claimed is exquisite.

It's not until he's seated inside you that he lets go of your neck. His hand is on your shoulder, holding you in place, and his hips snap, driving him deep. You gasp, his name a strangled cry that tears from your throat, and you can feel his lips brush against your skin.

"That’s it,” he grunts, his breath hot against your ear. He's barely pulling out, fucking you with quick, sharp thrusts. “Moan a little louder, cyare. Let all of 79s know who’s fucking you.”

You don't know what he's doing to you. All you know is that you want more, and you're desperate to obey. You can't help the noises spilling from your mouth, and if you weren't so focused on him, on the way his cock felt inside of you, you might have been embarrassed.

But all you can think about is the way his fingers are gripping your hips, and the way his body is pressed against yours, armor cold and unyielding against your back. You can hear him breathing, and the quiet grunts and moans that fall from his lips are driving you mad.

“Hunter—”

He's not waiting for you to finish, not even bothering to let you catch your breath. You feel the way he responds to the sound of his name, the way his hips jerk, and the way his cock thickens inside of you. His arm slides under your body, wrapping around your stomach, and his hips are moving faster, his thrusts rougher. Hunter fucks you like he's trying to claim you, and in a way, he is.

His mouth is at your ear, and when he speaks, the words are a rough whisper. "Tell me you're mine."

You're shaking, and it's not from the force of his thrusts. It's from the way he says the words, the way he breathes them into your ear, like a plea and a prayer.

"Tell me, and I'll let you come."

You don't know how he can keep talking. You can't form the words, and he's relentless. The way his cock fills you, the way his hips snap, the way his mouth is pressed against your neck, his lips leaving kisses and marks that will linger, and remind you that you're his.

"Please," you manage, the closest your fogged mind can get.

"Say it."

"I'm yours," you whisper, and the way his hips jerk is telling.

He doesn't speak, his hips shifting, and when he drives into you again, it's all you can do to hang on. He's hitting the perfect spot, and when he fucks into you, he stays there, the head of his cock grinding against the most sensitive parts of you. His hand finds your clit, his thumb circling, and it's only moments before you're coming undone.

The force of it hits you, and the noise that escapes is not quite a scream, and not quite a moan. You're shaking, your vision going white, and your entire body is clenching, tightening around him. It's only then that he lets go, the sound that spills from his lips making you shudder.

You can feel him coming, the heat of his release flooding your core. It's a sensation that will never get old, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the way his hand tightens on your hip, the way his mouth opens against your neck. The way he gasps, and sighs, and whispers your name, like you're the only thing that matters.

It's always like this.

He holds you close, and neither of you speaks. It's just the sound of your breathing, the quiet rustle of his armor, the gentle hum of the music from the club outside the door.

There's a knock on the door, and Hunter curses, his hands tightening. His voice is rough, but quiet, and there's no mistaking the warning in his tone. "Go away."

You're frozen, and there's no reply, just the sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway.

"Fuck," he groans. The sound vibrates through your body, making you shudder.

"You're gonna get us thrown out,” you tell him, and Hunter laughs.

"It wouldn't be the first time." He pulls away, and it's an unpleasant sensation, the drag of his cock leaving your body. You can feel him leaking from between your legs, and you shift, trying to find something to clean yourself up with.

"Here." Hunter pulls a towel from the rack, and he's gentle as he runs it over the inside of your thighs, and between your legs. He cleans himself and tucks his cock back into his blacks, and the whole time, he's got a hand on your waist, like he's not ready to let go.

You adjust your clothes, and when you turn to look at him, Hunter smiles.

"I've been thinking," he says, and he's reaching for you, pulling you close.

"That sounds dangerous."

"Maybe." Hunter dips his head, and he kisses you, his hands cupping your face. His mouth is warm and soft, and it feels like an apology. When he breaks the kiss, he's still holding you, and the next words out of his mouth are the last ones you expect.

"Do you want to go to dinner with me?"

You blink. Hunter's eyes are serious, and his hands are on your shoulders like he's bracing himself.

"Like, on a date?"

He nods, and he looks so nervous, it's hard not to laugh. The two of you have been having sex for months, have done things that would make most people blush, and he's nervous because he wants to take you to dinner.

"Just the two of us?"

Hunter nods again, and when you smile, his own lips curl up.

"Yes." You wrap your arms around his waist, and he looks relieved, like he didn't think you were going to say yes. "I'd love to."

Hunter smiles, and it's brilliant. It makes his eyes shine, and you can't help but grin.

"Good," he says. "That's good."

“But you’re going to have to give me my panties back."

Hunter raises an eyebrow and dips his hand between your legs, the touch light, but firm. His fingers glide through your folds, and the sound you make is high and strangled. He's still wearing a smirk when he pulls his hand away, and when he licks his fingers clean, there's no mistaking the way his gaze darkens.

"I think I'm going to keep them," he says without a hint of remorse.

"But—"

"Consider it a promise." His smile is wicked, and his voice is low and rough. "For later."

Your eyes widen, and Hunter chuckles.

"Now," he says, his hands sliding down your arms. He interlaces your fingers with his, and pulls you toward the door. "Let's get out of here."

This time, you follow him without question.

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[dootznbootz]

As someone who is also really uncomfortable with the Zeus/Odysseus art trend, I completely understand where your coming from!

People’s treatment of Odysseus’s assaults in general makes me really upset. Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom.

I remember being so frustrated when the snippets of “There are Other Ways” came out because so many people were making Hamilton jokes and talking about how he always talks about his wife yet cheated. When in the song it was so clear he was being coerced which is yknow, not a form of consent. I couldn’t even listen to it because it made me so uncomfortable, and even now with the full version out the fandoms reaction to it overall have soured me to it. Which sucks, because I do think it’s a great song.

Also I don’t even think Epic completely erases Calypso’s assault? At least, I think it’s left ambiguous enough during the time jump that people can come to their own conclusions. Specifically when Calypso says “Soon into bed we’ll climb and spend our time” just really gives me the impression that something else happened.

I suppose in the snippets we’ve seen of “I’m Not Sorry For Loving You” it seems like Odysseus and Calypso are on slightly friendlier terms, but I don’t think that negates the fact she could’ve assaulted him. And I’ve always took that song as pretty manipulative on Calypso’s side, with Odysseus more so trying to placate her. But that’s going into theory territory.

And even if he isn’t SA’d in Epic it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be there!! Same with Homer’s Odyssey. It’s so infuriating to see the cheating narrative be so widely spread when that is just not what happened.

Anyway’s sorry for the long rant, but I wanted to say that it’s nice to see you take Odysseus’s SA seriously. It’s not something the fandom does enough.

It's okay for the long rant. Sorry I took a bit to get to it but I wanted some "soft chatters" for a bit before I tackled this one :)

"Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom."

I completely understand you with this stuff. ;~; I used to go through Odyssey tags often as I LOVE possibly finding new people to follow and fun things but too many times I would see shit that pissed me off. ;~; I've honestly kind of just stuck to my mutuals that I trust tbh. And honestly, there's soooo much shit of people just straight up not understanding the context/culture/meaning/etc. of the Epics and just taking it at face value and not understanding the meanings. :/ I'm no expert, but I also have analyzed and researched quite a bit on my own to try and get the full picture. I think in order to truly enjoy the Odyssey, you need to just... really soak shit in, you know?

When Calypso, that lovely goddess,  tried                           to keep me with her in her hollow cave, longing for me to become her husband,                                  or when, in the same way, the cunning witch Aeaean Circe held me in her home filled with a keen desire I’d marry her, they never won the heart here in my chest.

(Book 9, Johnston)

Odysseus tells this to the Phaecians. They are strangers that he will likely never see again and who are isolationists. Therefore his story that he told probably won't be "spread" to others so he can probably say whatever. So he doesn't have to worry about "Penelope hearing a different story than the one he told to her" if people wanna argue about how "Oh well, he didn't tell Penelope about the 'affairs'"(He tells her everything as well btw.)

He could literally say "Oh yeah, I had the time of my life!" but he doesn't because that's not true. Odysseus has no listed concubines, I just literally don't see him as the type of guy who's really into that.

And while yes, he would be devastated if she didn't "stay loyal", he does sound like he'd be understanding. He asks his mother in the Underworld if Penelope had gotten remarried to "the finest of Achaeans". And we all know of Odysseus' words of "when Telemachus has a beard, feel free to remarry". Even when first "rejected" by Penelope in that she didn't hug him when he sat across from her, he was incredibly hurt but asked for a separate bed. He literally could have had it where Penelope takes a different bed and he takes their luxurious/fancy one because he has the rest of the household on his side.

But he DOESN'T!

Because he adores her for fuck's sake!

Funny enough? I have the weird reaction of like, weirdly searching out "Good" animatics as it was a weird reassurance of "yes, people see that it's wrong." as while holy fuck. so many stupid, awful jokes about "Say No to This" in the comments (I have learned to just stay the fuck away from youtube comments on Odysseus shit. :') ) but like, seeing and HEARING how yes, this was fucked, was weirdly really nice for me. yeah, it took a lot of digging but there's a few "There Are Other Ways" that I love. Literally, both are unfinished wips and they're still my favorites. If you can, please give these two a watch and some love for the creator.

This was back before we heard the full song and it's still very good. How he's on guard until she "magics" him and the colors change. After that he kind of moves like a "puppet" but he's still resisting as best he can.

This one is literally still sketches but it's my absolute favorite. Oh my word. The body language, PENELOPE FLASHBACKS!!! Showing cute bits of Penelope's character and how awful this is for him. (Penelope is so cute. She puffs up her cheeks to make him laugh!) How he really is scared that he'll have to go through with this in order to save his friends until all his past trauma floods back and he just can't. It's lovely.

And yeah Idk how to feel about "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" :/ I don't know how it'll be yet, maybe there's something in another song that shows Odysseus' real feelings or whatever.

And with just the whole cheating thing, yeah, it's really upsetting to call what is blatant assault "cheating". As wild as it sounds, Odysseus' story has been more relatable for me than any other stories like this, even modern ones. I've spoken a bit about it before but yeh, victim blaming at its finest. I find him and his story and his love for Penelope slkdfj very relatable. It's honestly really nice to write about in a sense..

(I'm pasting this from an old post of mine but yeh)

I have never had a story that felt like how it actually FEELS. The "aftermath" and "regaining life". It's hopeful and feels really good. It's been years since "everything" but it just felt nice to see "Everybody has the chance to get better." Even Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus, while still dealing with their traumas, are doing a lot better now. And after literal hell, Odysseus got to be with his family and loved ones again. He can start living again. It's why I'm just...idk passionate about this? I'm not a murderer or a war veteran but I see myself in him. Hopefully, y'all see me as nicer though!😂(plus, let's be honest, the Odyssey is romantic af and OdyPen is right up my alley as well >:D )

I really hate the whole "he's a guy so therefore ____" whether it's used as a "Boys will be boys. they can't help themselves" usually aimed at female victims or a "Men always want sex. they cannot be victims.". It's fucked up and used against ALL of us. :( Doesn't matter if it was history. People, no matter the era, should never be put through "Are you Victim™ enough?". He is one.

Idk the Odyssey means a lot to me. I hope it's okay I take some liberties with my fanfics as it's nice healing through him :D I AM kind of using my own experiences and ideas and it feels nice. I don't think Homer necessarily meant for this but eh, anything that helps is good :D He's a war criminal that I relate to.

[kibbles-bits]

any voxval fics you’d recommend?

Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.

Everything.

I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.

And please mind the tags.

First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:

Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)

In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.

The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)

Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.

choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)

"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.

Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.

Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)

“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.

This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.

biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)

“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.

This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...

And my other recs:

Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)

Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.

Yeah you read that right.

a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)

They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.

Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.

Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)

Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.

It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)

Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.

You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)

Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Sobbing.

Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)

He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.

Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.

Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)

"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.

Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.

before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)

Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.

A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)

"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"

The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.

God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.

[shirogane-oushirou]

[cw vent: chronic illness, general world politics mention w no detail)

"man. i'm so tired. i feel like i can't do anything selfship related. is it because my energy's been sapped from family visiting and everyone wanting to do ~summer activities~ nonstop? am i so in my head about "getting ren's story right without stepping over any lines" that i've backed myself into a perfectionist corner? is the world just going to shit so hard that i can't have one (1) minute of escape on this blog before going back to working through the political hellscape we're in? god even trying to make this plushie pattern is killing me even though i want to hold my guy So Badly AUGH."

/finishes the plushie pattern after trying multiple body bases and literally buying a japanese ebook about plushie face and hair design/

"actually what if i lived forever and spent all of that time making an army of these fuckers to swim in? what then?"

[moe-broey]

Ohhhhhhh. Okay.

(thoughts/revelations about bride alt Sharena jumpscare)

[siristaci]

I need to tell y'all about this Mongolian barbeque place in my city that was... something special.

But first, a little about me. I hate trying new things, had a really bad immune system (I promise that's relevant), have a hard time processing accents that makes talking to people with heavy accents anxiety-inducing, and another thing I was going to point out but can't remember right now. Hopefully I'll remember before posting this and amend it.

It's been closed for a few years, so you also need to keep in mind that my memories of this place are, at most recent, about 8 years old.

Y'all. Once I was finally convinced to try this place (about 17 years ago), I fucking loved it. Went as often as I could afford.

There were always only two people running the place- an Asian woman, who acted as the host/waitress/cashier and spoke just enough heavily-accented english to get by, and an Asian man, who was the cook and spoke even less english.

The place was dark and dirty. There's not a chance in hell it ever passed health inspections. The back corner of the dining area was difficult to see from the front (impossible when you first walked in and were day-blind) and no dining customers were ever sat there. There were, however, usually at least a couple of businessmen looking guys sat there who, if they spoke to each other at all, were too quiet to be heard from just a few tables away. They were rarely eating; just sitting there doing idk what. I didn't look often nor long because I just had this overwhelming feeling that it was best not to pay too much attention to them.

When you arrived, the woman would chat with you about what's been going on in your life since she last saw you (she had an excellent memory, even remembering me a few years since the last time I'd been there) as you were seated at booths whose seats no longer had functional springs and asked what you want to drink. You had to ask what drinks they had, since there was no menu. And no sign saying how much anything cost at all.

The food was set out in a buffet style. You'd load up a bowl with meat, veggies, and sauce, and hand it off to the guy, who would cook it and give it back to you. How long had the food been sitting out? Who knows? I went at various times of the day and never saw anything get refilled.

But the food was good, and I never got sick, despite the aforementioned terrible immune system. It was a tad pricey, but definitely a worthwhile treat.

After it closed, I was heartbroken and needed to find a replacement. I went to reddit to see if anyone had any recommendations. Or any idea why it had closed. Sure, it never had many customers at any given time. I think the most tables filled (by dining customers anyway) at once was 3 out of the maybe 12 available. But that had been the case for the 15 years I'd been going. Declining patronage couldn't be the answer.

I couldn't find a ton of references to the place; just a handful of posts asking the same questions I was. Any good replacements? And what happened?

But the responses were many. A few comments recommending the same three places. A lot of people sad to learn that it was closed or reminiscing about how good it was and how long it had been there- while most experiences had the same negative things to say as I did (health code concerns and a wariness of the men in the back), nearly everyone agreed that it had been a great place.

And there was a universally agreed-on theory that it had been a money-laundering scheme that was no longer needed.

Ah. Yeah, that makes sense, actually.

But here's the funny part. Recently, another post reminded me of this place. And I wanted to read those reviews again, but I didn't want to use reddit because, well.

So I just googled it. It's hard to find any reference to it at all since it's closed, never had a website, and it's name was similar to a national (maybe global? I don't care enough to look it up) fast food chain. All I could really find were old Yelp reviews.

Nobody on Yelp liked this place.

There were only two good reviews. One was just the same "LOVE this place! GREAT food and great atmosphere! Other things in all caps and lots of exclamation marks!" you see everywhere, and the other was this.

Y'all

Anyway, I just find it funny that everyone- myself, the people I introduced it to, the people I know who already knew of it, reddit, and yelp- all had pretty much the same experience, but reddit (and the people I know)- who all agreed it was sketchy all around- loved it and yelp- who only had health code concerns- hated it.

[kuromi-hoemie]

i just finished iron blooded orphans and need to lay down for a bit

[alluralater]

rugby player is officially blocked. i wasn't even this icked out when someone purposefully gave me two STIs. what the actual fuck. that text... jesus. i don't even- what the actual fuck??

[coralineandthesapphicfantastic]

I'm out here making RPF OCs you can't even imagine. My mind is open. My spirit is soaring. Haters lament my whimsy and power.

[medicinemane]

I don't know, I get tired of a lot of positivity

Like yes yes, the world's wonderful and I'm so strong or whatever generic thing is being said (because it's always so generalized to the point of meaningless), but you know shit is what it is, and the only way forward is with changes I manage to make... which you're not helping with at all

And as for like... my internal mood, I'm deeply isolated, sorry if hollow platitudes don't sooth the gaping maw inside me

It is what it is, and I probably get my shit together enough to do stuff like teach out of my basement like I'd like, it's just I believe that I'll be alone in a crowd like I've always been

But positivity... I just... I kinda get sick of it. There's this guy on youtube I watch who talks about economics stuff, he's recently started doing positivity and... I just fucking know his personality enough where it's like sorry mate but I'm not interested in hearing you spout Secret light kinds off drivel

...I don't know, I suppose it boils down to this

One, I can barely fucking take in positive things said directly to me, about me. Generalizations don't help even a little... I'm a mess, I'd really like someone to toss me a life preserver instead of always tossing confetti at me while I struggle to stay afloat... doesn't help

Two, the world is a terribly imperfect place, and rather than taking a mentality of "everything will work out", I think it's important to acknowledge that sometimes good people live alone, die alone, and they never got the break they needed and slowly bled out

I think it's worth knowing that if you can't step in and help yourself, then maybe no help'll come at all

...I don't know, I suppose in the end the core of what I'm saying is a lot of positivity seems like self help tier stuff and... I get tired of that, and I see so many good people struggling and... eh... either I can at least come in and say something positive custom fit to them, or I can keep my mouth shut

Just fucking let me rot. Help or let me fester on my own, you know?

I got rid of the trailer, I maybe did something like cleaning though I can't tell... at what point will my pace on trying to make things better be good enough for people, and I'll be able to stop having people tell me to fix my life... as if I hadn't thought of that already

...everyone means well, it's just tiring

[junonreactor]

yaay

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[lady-djarin]

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

[23victoria]

Passing the Phone

f1 grid x reader

warnings: cussing, unhinged, satire, complete jokes (are they?...), dark humor ig…idk, talk of age gaps, sa allegations, no just kidding...very much reading people to the filth

authors note: lmaoo don’t ask me why i wrote this cause idk…but this is so unhinged 😭😭 please don’t take offense to this and if you do…i said don’t…all jokes i love them, some of them, you can find it funny or you won’t, just wanted to get this out of my drafts

want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist

Video starts with Y/N holding the phone, in selfie mode.

Y/N: I'm passing the phone to someone who had the biggest breakup in F1 history with a blond German boy named Nico.

Lewis: Babe, no!

Y/N: What, too soon? It's been years but okay! Sorry! Okay, let me start again. I'm passing the phone to someone who said "Fuck Mercedes" and is going to Ferrari for 2025!

Lewis: Y/N, no!! You cannot say that! You’re gonna get me in trouble!!

Y/N: Fine, fine, fine. I'm passing the phone to the GOAT of this generation with the most wins in F1 history, yet he was robbed of the championship in 2021.

Y/N passes the phone to Lewis.

Lewis: stares at Y/N then laughs “I'm passing the phone to someone who is known more for his memes than driving skills.”

Lewis passes the phone to George.

George: laughs “Hahaha real funny…I'm passing the phone to someone who took six years to get their first win."

Lando: “Dude, what the fuck?! Fuck you, Woody! I'm passing the phone to someone who's younger than me yet acts years older than me.”

Oscar: “....You're not funny... I'm passing the phone to someone who's most likely losing their seat next season.”

Logan: “The fuck, Oscar! I thought we were friends! Low blow, mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has yet to get P1, yet all his friends who got into F1 after him have won races already.”

Alex: “....And that, Logan, is why you're losing your seat. Mr. What The Fuck is A Kilometer. Anyway, I'm passing the phone to someone who just got brutally murdered by an interviewer on Sky Sports regarding their F1 career, if you could call it that.”

Daniel: “You shouldn’t be talking Mr. I Have No Wins….eat shit…I'm passing the phone to the shortest person on the grid but cusses more than anyone here.”

Yuki: “That interviewer was right, why the fuck do you still have a seat in F1?!! Dickhead. I'm passing the phone to a man with good fashion sense and his teammate might steal his seat.”

Zhou: “Bro….really. I'm passing the phone to someone who acts like he's Australian when he’s not…oh, and his seat is at risk too.”

Bottas: “Yeah, yeah, whatever mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has enough penalties in just nine races that he can be banned from racing in F1… permanently.

Kevin: “You're so funny, Bottas, hahaha…ha. I'm passing the phone to a dickhead.”

Nico: “Fuck you too asshole. I'm passing the phone to a person who has a shitty ass dad who deserves to be in jail.”

Max: burst out laughing “Ah, no lies told there. I'm passing the phone to someone who only has a seat to protect me from having any real competition…”

You laugh in the background “Oh shit.”

Checo: blank stare “Motherfucker! That just shows your true colors... I'm passing the phone to... who am I supposed to pass it to... uhhh... Y/N.

Takes phone 

Y/N: “Oh, I know! I'm passing the phone to someone who has sexual assault “allegations” against them, but the FIA wants to hide it. I can’t go near him for my safety, so I’ll just turn the camera towards him... *pans the camera to Christian Horner*

Everyone is stunned and silent, then there’s Lewis laughing in the background 

Y/N: “Oh! I have another one! Hey Kelly, “i hear you like them young”, to be more specific at the ripe age of 17... mhmmm, she's a pedoo. What Kendrick say “TRYNA STRIKE A CORD AND ITS PROBABLY A MINNORRRR” *pans the camera to Kelly Piquet*

silence.

Lewis: runs towards Y/N and grabs the camera “Yup, that's enough for today. You're trying to start problems and get people beat up”

Video ends with Lewis taking the phone away from Y/N, shaking his head while laughing.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @magixpracticality @exotic-iris13 @tellybearryyyy @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly

@eoduuung

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

*sooooo……that’s the end….LMFAOOOO, again…DO NOT COME FOR ME…ITS JOKES (is it really though)*

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[the-boy-meets-evil]

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 

“Of course not,” he says. 

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge. 

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply. 

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks. 

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 

“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕