#you have to work your whole life just in order to afford to live......

[cheekblush]

so how are you supposed to get anything done when you work 40 hours a week?

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself. 

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac. 

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services. 

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself. 

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface. 

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation. 

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true) 

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier. 

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work. 

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful. 

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me? 

Yes, he can hear you. 

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep. 

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail. 

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train. 

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think. 

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room. 

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway. 

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively. 

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in. 

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him? 

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse. 

— Where do you want me to start, sir? 

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry. 

— The living room. If it’s not too much. 

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker. 

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless. 

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch? 

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it. 

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes. 

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit. 

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left. 

— Alright. Anything else? 

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway. 

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself. 

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you. 

And he only knew you for an hour tops. 

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours? 

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits. 

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service. 

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember. 

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body. 

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died. 

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad. 

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be. 

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face. 

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself. 

— What is it, liebling? 

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss. 

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him. 

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow. 

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already. 

He might not even let you go after. 

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment. 

— Alright. I will do it right away then. 

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless. 

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside. 

— I will divide everything into categories, alright? 

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces. 

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is. 

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely. 

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate. 

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. 

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in. 

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay, so in one of the comments that you replied to in your “gold rush AU! Konig”, you stated that she’s heads over heels in love with him, but apparently hasn’t shown/told him yet. And even though he believes that she doesn’t love him, he’s still so in love with her and just wants to make her happy. (That has got to pull at her heartstrings because this odd but kind man simply just loves her.)

Would you be willing to do a next part? Showing that she was just resisting what she knew along and that was that she does love and only wants him. Because although he went about marrying her immediately instead of taking the time to get to know each other and even though he’s from an European background, who is a giant with an accent and working to hit gold to support her financially, he’s still been nothing but kind, loving, and can apparently rock her world in bed! (Basically she was resisting in giving in into admitting she loves him because she had this WHOLE mindset/vision about how it was ALL gonna go down but since it didn’t go the way she thought it would, she was resisting his love for the “fairytale” version she wanted.)

Eventually she finally confesses that she does love him but had to get to that conclusion slowly on her own terms. This of course makes him so happy and he feels so blessed to gain his wife’s love; he once again promises that he will do everything in his powers to ensure she’s happy for all the rest of the days of her life. Which he does because some time later he hits it big in gold which lets him upgrade the “shack” they’re living in to convert it into an actual home for them to spend the rest of their lives together (with future children).

And he asks her of what she wants him to buy for her since he can afford to get it for her, only for her to ask for a new and bigger (so he fits comfortably) reinforced bed; because she wants him to be able to rest properly in a comfortable bed AND she doesn’t want to hear it creak as he plows her into nirvana/heaven. This of course causes him to blue screen but once he reboots his brain, he promises that he’ll get the best bed that will not only support their nightly activities but be very comfortable for both of them.

It’s only once they get the new bed and use/“break it in”/“christen” it for the first time does he finally gets her pregnant on that first night.

Oh, your writings are just so good! 😊

Oh I love the bed scenario and König wanting to spoil her and the story about how he got her pregnant for the first time (you can’t tell me these two won’t have a small flock of annoying little kids running around eventually) so much! 😭💞

And I actually wrote a little something for this because people were putting me in jail for the roaring angst of the 1st part so here’s how these silly pookies got to their happily ever after:

Our pompous little mail order bride is, in fact, so in love with König that it’s not even funny.

It's so bad that she looks out the window and sighs as she waits for him to come home... Scoots away the minute she catches him in the horizon, of course. She has better things to do than wait by the window sill like some wanton prostitute!

She whimpers like one, however, when the door slams shut and her husband comes to grope her from behind, telling her he wants to take her on the table (there’s food there and they were supposed to eat first, what a horrible man!) Not to talk of getting wet just from the sight of him looming over her, she has no objections with getting spread on the sturdy planks for taking. She should probably be thankful that the dinner table is made of solid wood and is not some delicate piece hauled here from Europe because it could never take the brute force of König’s advances...

After they're both sated and done, he dares to dip his finger in one of the cast iron pots filled to the brim with stew. Has a taste while still inside her, only chuckles to himself when she furrows her brows from how uncivilised he is. What kind of a man barges in his home like a burglar, takes his wife on the table, then tastes the hearty stew like it’s only normal for a man to be hungry after plowing his lady until they're both shaking? Even the bed is about to break at night, these pieces of furniture have done nothing wrong to this man and yet he treats them like they're nothing but disposable bits of wood.

His lack of manners never ceases to astonish her; he even tries to give her a taste of the food too, and laughs when she pushes him away and straightens her skirts, how is she supposed to walk around with his seed running down her thighs? All the pretty things he got her from town are in need of a wash already, but she still hums a soft happy tune while looking at her reflection in the mirror, donning the pretty hat he just brought her along with coffee and flour. (She thinks he can’t hear or see her being visibly happy, but König takes mental notes every time her eyes shine a little brighter from his gifts. She's not lacking anything, that's for sure, and isn’t it nice that he remembered how she looked at that silly little hat when they walked by her favorite store…? Anything his princess wants, she shall have!)

Years and years of lonely digging in this harsh land far away from home have made her husband think that no woman could ever want him unless he buys their love, and she does enjoy the pretty little frills he brings her as offerings. But what would kill her is if he knew she had actual feelings for him… This was supposed to be an arrangement, a marriage between two adults, not a romantic passionate affair! That sort of thing only happens in books, that's the first thing she learned when she came here.

He should have courted her properly first, but now it's all ruined, there's no excitement and intensity... Except that her heart is always hammering in her chest, she feels like a trapped bird flitting inside her corset. She's always flustered when he goes under her skirts, her chest is about to collapse in on itself when she sees him flash a smile her way, carry her more silk and demurely apologize that the wrappings are dirty because of his hands, kiss her neck after copulation like it's the holiest place on earth...

And God Almighty, what would this man think of her if she confessed her love to him? He would probably laugh and think she’s a harlot who’s in desperate need of his cock, that she's indecent and impure…

Luckily, the brute is so stupid that he doesn’t see the way his little princess–as he now calls her–looks up at him when he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She’s relatively sure he doesn’t notice the tiny gasps just before she comes, the helpless, adoring stares she shoots at him right after, because that glassy, worshipping stare of his own is only born of lust, that’s for sure.

He can’t see her figure flash in the window when he’s walking towards home, she’s made sure of that…

Or has she?

The man is dumb, but he’s not a total simpleton, even if his eternal sadness is slowly turning into a teasing, an even hungrier form of love. She fears he will simply devour her one of these days if he knew how deeply in love with him she is as well...

And she fears herself even more than she fears him. Didn’t the priest warn about exactly this kind of simple-minded, wanton lust in his last sermon? She was always taught that marriage is supposed to be about companionship and genial living together, not about sweaty, toe curling, mind numbing copulation.

They’re fornicating like animals in the little shack she has grown so fond of, shy to the changes he’s talking about every day since he struck some large gold vein. He openly fantasizes about getting them a large house, a small manor, even, and she knows it’s all just for her because this man is content with very little… So little, that he accepts any small crumb of affection she gives him like it’s an entire rain of manna from heaven.

And it’s only because she’s ashamed that she can’t show her true feelings for him. The gentlemen of the city now feel like fancy peacocks compared to this burly man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and his dick wet. Those men look delicate and boring and ridiculous next to the hairy giant who’s forearms she stares in the evenings like they’re her own personal cancan show.

It’s crazy, how she looks at him like he’s nothing but a piece of meat – are women even supposed to feel this way? She should say her prayers, because her foreign husband looks like a god while sharpening his ax by the fire, with slow, deliberate movements, the trembling hands finding a smooth, strong dance only when they’re wielding a pickaxe or a whetstone or a knife.

He catches her staring once, her frightful stare big and helpless in the flickering flames, and he gives her a sad, longing smile in return.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he gruffs softly. “Ich weiss… I know I should shave...”

Her head gives an involuntary shake, minimal and shy, because she doesn’t want him to shave. She adores that coarse stubble that leaves her skin red and irritated, she loves how he looks when he has so much going on in his life that he doesn’t have time to groom himself.

“No…?” He asks hesitantly, straightening a little on the chair that’s really only a piece of log. “You like it like this...?”

She nods. Shyly again, and just once, while her eyes drift on his lips.

It’s intimate, how the silence envelops them with both tension and grace. It’s all she can give right now, and he knows it, knows also that this whole exchange is basically a love confession. Her affection, her want, her dedication and surrender soar and swell all at once, and he can see it... All of it.

He rises, and abandons the ax, his softening stare never leaving hers. He walks to her like a gentleman, like he's Mr. Rochester himself, like she was Ms. Eyre – although she doesn’t want to be Jane Eyre and she doesn’t want him to be a dark, handsome gentleman. She wants him to be just as he is, the stranger from the North who works hard and loves even harder, who picks her up like she’s an angel and not a lady.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”

His gaze is so soft, it’s starting to relax into some knowledge she has in her foolishness betrayed.

But it’s alright… Everything’s just as it should be.

She wraps her hands around his neck and whispers, “Yes,” and the smile that tugs at his lips finally melts into one of those I knew it smiles he sometimes wears when he brings her something nice from the town.

He doesn’t push her to reveal more information about how much she loves his stubble, but he does make her scream it out into the warm cottage air as he goes down between her legs. She doesn’t want to know what the local priest would say about this: a man making his mark on the insides of her thighs with that scraping beard, how he makes her core throb with his ever-hungry mouth. She doesn’t even care.

It’s a paradise and an inferno, where he’s sending her to, and who knew a brutish digger from some distant land could suddenly be so eloquent with his tongue? Who knew a man could do things like these to a woman...? Who knew married life could be like this?

“You liked that, didn’t you, princess,” he asks when he’s done with her, and holds her surprisingly gentle when she’s still shaking and squirming softly on the bed. Not God, not even the Devil, could cloud the full blown affection in her eyes. She’s in love – it’s not just lust, but love she feels for this man, and she feels like a fool for not recognizing she had gold in her hands all along.

“Yes,” she says, then smiles, then laughs, because it’s fairly obvious that she can’t speak those words even if she wanted to. He wrecked her so completely...

“I told you I’d make you happy, Sonnenschein.”

He smiles a little, looks down at her like she’s nothing but a baby who finally stopped her eternal crying.

“Oh I’m more than happy,” she says, this time tears clouding her vision, happy tears born from being free from years of imprisonment. He doesn’t strike her as the kind of man who cries, but there’s a faint glow in his eyes as well, a shimmer that both takes her in and pulls her under. This is something they don’t talk about in church... This is a thing they never write about in books.

She lays her hand on him, on the coarse cheek that is now slightly wet from a single tear.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, because her voice wouldn’t carry the weight of her words at this point.

“Ja…? Well... I’m happy too,” he explains, with a shortness of breath and a confusion to his voice.

He blinks the rest of it away, but the sweet moment stays, lingers on until she draws him into a kiss – another thing they never talk about in novels, a woman kissing a man – and she tastes both him and her on his lips, how well he loved her, and when he moans slightly from her reciprocating that love, she holds him closer, closer, closer… Until he shivers too.

[aagneauu]

High value habits to elevate yourself 🥂✨

When the term "high value" is mentioned, we often think of things related exclusively to economic wealth, but being a high-value person is an attitude, an attribute founded on habits and a wealthy mentality. So today I wanted to mention a few habits that I personally perceive as something a person with strong standards apply on their lives. ✨

Sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language :b

1. Long-term mentality ✦

Enjoying yourself is very important, but when we only think about the things that give us temporary pleasure, is often very likely that we forget to take care about our future stability. For example, if you want to travel, the smart thing to do would be to save the money in order to be able to afford it, but how many times we just feel the urge to waste money on unnecessary stuff just to get that brief satisfaction, that bad habit will take us far from our goals. This rule can be applied on almost every aspect, and if you're able to stick to your goals and take decisions according to them, trust me, you'll get very far.

2. Invest ✦

Stop wasting and start investing; your money, your time and your energy. In terms of money, you obviously can spend some of it on pretty stuff, but instead of wasting your whole salary on things you want, a smarter move would be to use part of that money to invest it on something that potentially can give us another income, maybe there's a valuable peace of jewelry or clothing that not only we could use, but to sell and trade in the future, or even if you have enough money saved, you can invest in a property, to not only live in it, but to rent it. Our time and energy works in the same way, we could be wasting our time and energy with people that don't give us nothing we can learn from, and you're worth way more than that. Find people and habits that not only make you feel good and appreciated, but that will leave you something interesting for your personal growth, and remember, better alone than in a bad company.

3. Details matter ✦

How we talk, how we decide to present ourselves to the world, our values, the effort we put on what we make. Every little detail says something about us. For example, something as simple as spraying perfume before we go out makes a difference, or if you study, the amount of time and effort you decide to put on certain classes. Socially, what you decide to say, and to develop the hability to stay quiet when necessary. Maybe you think that those little things don't make a huge difference at the long-term, but when you see how your life can change drastically with every little step you take, you learn to pay attention to it.

4. Patience ✦

It is a strong word, it is even harder to apply to our lives sometimes. Being patient not only with people, but with our circumstances. Sometimes things that we don't like happens, and we don't even understand why because we thought that we did everything right, but everything happens for a reason, it's like a fruit, you could take it out of the tree earlier because you're hungry, but it isn't that mature and tasty, but if you just wait, resist the hunger, the fruit will be way better. That applies to money, emotional growth and life changes. Learn to understand that sometimes, pain will be the sign to something better than your current situation.

5. Stop following the crowd ✦

Set standards and learn what is good for you, if you just rely on others to decide what is best for you, or even worse; you know something is bad for you and still do it for others, then expect low quality experiences. People time to time will call you boring or even extreme just because you decide to be loyal to your values. If something that everyone is doing seems beneficial, do it, but because it gives you something valuable, not because of the crowd. You can apply this rule to everything; friends, money, and other experiences. The amount ot peace and comfort that you can get with this transformation is a huge life upgrade.

This were some topics that come to mind when the "high value" term is mentioned. And remember, no one is perfect and every little thing makes us unique. Life is a long journey that you can decide to upgrade with every little move.

Hope u enjoyed! ♡

[mrsbarnesblog]

i can't let you get hurt

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, reader is Steve's adopted sister, mechanic Bucky, creepy behaviour, protective Bucky.

Author's note: Does anyone know if community labels are reducing the number of likes and reblogs? because my last post received a suspiciously small amount of notes🤔 but I'm afraid to remove them because Tumblr might decide to block me again

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other. 

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year?  Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to make you feel dizzy, even though John was persuading you to taste more of the cocktails that he had brought you .

"You know, I think I better slow down with drinks; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?" 

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

 "O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your neighbor Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me." 

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It was not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time. 

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name. 

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist. 

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You didn’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little (big) crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you couldn’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent. The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, shut up. I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I'll take care of you. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you. As soon as he made a distance between you two, you body started trembling.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do. 

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll. You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna keep you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

[chronicallycouchbound]

I refuse to call government assistance programs “welfare” or “benefits”.

I’ve been on government assistance programs my whole life. I have never lived above the poverty line.

It’s a system that doesn’t care about my wellbeing, they care about doing the bare minimum to keep people alive enough to function and work, and if you’re disabled and cannot work, they give significantly less of a fuck.

And benefits?? What benefits?

Food stamps that run out within two weeks because I am budgeting with 8$ a day with literally dozens of dietary restrictions? Or do you mean the housing voucher that I have to never even have a gift card, penny to my name, Sams club membership, phone bill, literally anything that could be “income” in order to qualify? That same housing voucher system that if I mess up even once with I not only lose all government aid for at least 5 years, it’s also mandatory PRISON time for 1 year?? “Oh but they would never do that, right?” Nope! I have several friends who are now felons for minor lease violations and unhoused as a result! Oh maybe you mean the state health insurance that doesn’t cover most treatments, specialists, and testing I need and if I tried to make a gofundme to cover, I would lose aforementioned housing? Oh and we can’t forget all the money I get for being disabled, which is exactly 0$. I’m still fighting for SSI and have been for 6 years! That’s over 6 years with absolutely zero income. ZERO. And guess what, whenever I *do* get on SSI, I will lose my housing voucher. And I won’t be able to afford my current apartment because even in subsidized low income housing it’s too expensive for the maximum SSI “benefit” amount. And on SSI you can’t have savings over 2000$. Oh and they do make housing for people who are low income where you pay 30% of your income but I can’t even be on the waitlist since I don’t have any income. And on top of all this, I can never get married because I’ll lose all of the programs.

I could keep going. That’s not even half of the programs I’m a part of.

• None of them give me cash in hand. Even for vouchers I have to provide receipts for everything.

• Food stamps just straight up won’t even cover ineligible items. Which includes hot foods.

• I genuinely don’t believe that there’s a way to “game the system” and why would you? You would gain literally nothing.

• It’s designed to keep people poor. Once you make over a certain amount, you lose all or almost all benefits. There’s no way to slowly transition out of the programs, if you’re someone who’s able to. It’s all in or all out.

• All of these barriers are made significantly worse while unhoused/homeless. I’ve been homeless for over half of my life and there’s so many fucked up rules. If I missed one night staying in the shelter, I lost my housing voucher because I no longer was “verified as homeless” even if I was sleeping outside still.

[inmyicyworld]

I can't let you get hurt

Bucky Barnes x Reader (brother’s best friend AU)

Summary: you have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, reader is Steve’s adopted sister, creepy John Walker, John is commenting reader's clothes, Bucky is a big softie, protective Bucky, idiots in love, fluff.

Author’s note: I’ve wanted to finally start writing for a long time. so I decided to share my thoughts and dreams about this man (aka my husband). English is not my first language and I’m really sorry if you find any mistakes. it’s my first attempt to trying to write in English so I hope it’s not that bad.

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other. 

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year?  Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to take a toll on your head, even though John was pushing you hard with the new drink he brought you.

"You know, I think I better slow down with cocktails; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?" 

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

 "O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your two neighbors, Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me." 

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It’s not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time. 

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name. 

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist. 

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You don’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little, big crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you can’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, shut up; I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I won't let you get hurt. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna  fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do. 

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into hisneck,k enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. "I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll." You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna save you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Night, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater, Ruggie: The Secret in a Smile

Caycay, bestie… I am so sorry that SSR Crowley stole your spotlight 😭 (Is that why Cater looks so Mean Girls in his groovy... He's seeking petty revenge against Crowley/j)

Some cute stuff from the vignettes that I wasn't able to include in this fic: Cater makes a reference to TsumTsums! He mentions being into this mobile game with cute round creatures. Cater also tells a story about a 5-year old girl giving him a flower after his club's performance at a cultural festival (omg, do they mean the one in book 5?!). Ruggie teases him and says Cater must have been that little girl's first crush 😂

A Tale as Old as Time.

“Ne, ne, Ruggie-kun! Check this one out~ It's all the way from the Queendom of Roses!"

Cater jabbed a thumb at a painting of a young blonde girl dressed in a modest sky blue frock and apron, a small black bow in her hair. She couldn’t have been older than 10 years of age, still petite enough to squish inside a glass bottle with a narrow neck. The bottled child was adrift in a sudsy sea, her face frozen in an expression of slight worry.

Ruggie took one look at the artwork, then wrinkled his nose. “Sure sucks to be in her shoes. What’s this even supposed to show us, anyway? Doesn’t make a whole lotta sense to me.”

"Not a lot from the Queendom does if you aren't already familiar with its topsy-turvy stories~" Cater placed a hand on his hip and leaned forward, grinning. "This one is pretty popular! It's about a girl that wants an audience with the Queen of Hearts. She gets lost on the journey there, meets strange people and experiences even stranger things on the way. This is just one leg of that trip!"

"Wouldn’t the castle be further inland? How'd she end up in the middle of the ocean?"

“It’s about the perspective of the shot.” Cater formed a frame with his hands, catching his underclassman in it. He pulled back, creating the illusion of sizing Ruggie down. “She drank this bottled liquid she found and that shrank her down—so really, the ocean isn’t that big.”

A grimace.

“Man, talk about no sense of self preservation. She just chugged an unlabeled bottle without a second thought. Must’ve been real desperate.” Ruggie paused. “Weeeell, not like I’m one to talk about being desperate. You really can’t afford to be picky sometimes. If it fills your stomach, it fills your stomach.”

“You’d drink it too, huh… I don’t think I could do that. I’d at least want to see how the menu describes it before I order—though I guess it also depends on how ‘cammable the drink is! And hey, think about all the cool pics I could grab from a worm's eye point of view!”

"Heh, you don't seem too pressed about living life as an ant."

"Cay-kun likes to look on the bright side of things!" he declared with a wink and a peace sign. "The lost girl... she worried so much about finding her destination, she forgets to stop and smell the roses. She overlooks a lot of the fun people she could have spent time with."

Hopping from place to place, missed people—familiar elements, resurfacing a childhood of being uprooted and dragged about. Never to fully settle.

A tea party here, a brief convo there. Just enough to keep him placated, but not enough to see beyond the surface of the looking glass.

His curiosity still left wanting.

She got into so much trouble, but didn't have any real friends to come and help her.

Sadness tugged at his heartstrings, but Cater's smile didn’t waver.

"... I can’t help but kinda pity the poor thing," he said quietly. Then, brightening in the next moment, "All her issues could've been avoided if she just looked before she leapt and made some connections."

“Yeah, she definitely should’ve played smarter, not harder. Maybe if she kissed up to the locals, they’d have come to her rescue." Ruggie shrugged. "It works for me and Leona-san."

“Right? A smile goes a long way to getting what you want!” Cater poked the corners of his mouth. “You totes get me.”

“Cuz it takes a trickster to know another one on sight.”

"Wow, it sounds so mean when you put it like that. We're not tricksters, we just know how to use our smiles to problem-solve~"

"Giving a word a fresh coat of paint doesn't make it any less shady. At least be honest with yourself," the hyena smirked.

“Eeeh, I’m always honest!”

They shared a laugh—Ruggie, a snicker. Cater, lighter, more bubbly, like a carbonated mystery drink. When the effervescence died down, he cast another glance at the painting.

Too big for her small world of the sea, too small for the big world that loomed beyond it. Trapped within glass walls. Curled into herself in her delicate chambers.

Her perspective and his, one and the same.

Poor thing, poor thing, poor thing.

Cater summoned his strength and bore the full brunt of his smile.

“I’m sure she’ll find what she’s looking for… one day.”

[collecting-stories]

🏕 "Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out." roommate au with any stranger things guy please!

I did this with Steve, mostly cause you said he's your comfort character.

-

I Love You - Steve Harrington

Summary: You accidentally confess your feelings to your best friend over the phone.

A/N: I couldn't decide how to end this so it kinda just ends.

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“What do you think are the chances that I could like...move out of our apartment?” You asked Robin, leaning against the counter of the Radio Shack. It wasn’t exactly the most glamourous job in the world but it afforded a third of the rent on the apartment that Robin had found for you, her, and Steve.  

When she’d first suggested the three of you living off campus together, you’d been reluctant. Keeping your feelings for Steve under wraps was a lot easier said than done, especially when you were literally living under the same roof as him. But Robin was persistent (and she put down the deposit for the first month before either of you could even process the idea long enough to back out of it) so it was no surprise to you when you found yourself trapped in an apartment contract, sleeping in a room right next to Steve’s.  

Not ideal was a severe understatement and you were waiting with baited breath to completely fuck everything up. Something you absolutely knew you were going to do because when didn’t you fuck things up? You’d been coasting through this masquerade of a friendship for two years now and there was no way you were going to hold out much longer. You knew that. And then it happened, just like you had anticipated but maybe worse than you’d imagined. 

“Why do you have to move out?” Robin asked, reaching for some of the fries she had brought you for dinner. You were supposed to be working but the moment she came in you’d flipped the sign on the door and locked it before announcing that you’re entire life was essentially over.  

“I told him I loved him.” You admitted, grimacing at the mere thought of your fuck up.  

It’d been a simple phone conversation, nothing exciting and definitely nothing to completely screw the future of your friendship with Steve over. He’d called the store cause he was going to the market and wanted to know if you had any special requests that hadn’t been written down. You asked for dunkaroos and then told you loved him. Mostly in that exact order. “Buy me dunkaroos. Thanks. See you later. I love you.” And then before he could answer (thank god before he could answer) you hung up. Hit the end call button and smashed the phone down onto the receiver and hyperventilated your way to the Radio Shack that Robin was working part time at.  

It was unfortunate, probably for both of you, that the only person you could talk about Steve with was Robin but you hadn’t really branched out.  

“How did that happen?”  

“I just was like, bye, and then said I love you!” You replied, pressing your hands against your forehead. “I literally am dying right now.” 

“I don’t think you’re dying.” Robin pointed out, not looking nearly as erratic over the entire ordeal as you were. “I mean, I’ve told Steve I love him plenty of times.”  

“You’re physically incapable of being attracted to him and I’ve never once heard you tell him you love him.” You replied, “I literally said ‘I love you’ on the phone, to him.”  

“So what? Just play it off.”  

Robin’s advice was less than helpful. You knew that technically you could just shrug the whole thing off (if he even mentioned it at all, as Robin was quick to point out) and say that you made a mistake. You told your parents you loved them when you signed off. You said it to your grandma when she called on holidays or weekends to chat. It was totally normal and while you didn’t normally say it to Steve it was just a slip of the tongue. Easily played off and never spoken of again.  

The second option that Robin presented, while still technically unhelpful, was a lot better than the first. The possibility that, just maybe, Steve hadn’t even heard you or if he had, that he wouldn’t bring it up at all because it didn’t really matter that much. You were friends, had been friends for a while, and you were living together. An ‘I love you’ here and there didn’t have to be romantic or talked about and definitely not agonised over. You could both go on living your lives as normal people who acted normal around each other.  

“He’s totally into you though,” Robin had mentioned, ever the informative friend when you were in a crises.  

You wanted to say “when pigs fly” or something along those lines but with all the crazy shit you’d experienced in Hawkins, pigs flying probably wouldn’t even make you bat an eye. The only thing left for you to do, since you’d dumped your problems on Robin and finished lunch, was actually return to the scene of the crime.  

The apartment was small and your roommates were unavoidable, which meant that hiding from Steve and your embarrassing love confession was virtually impossible. He was home when you got back anyway, stashing his ice cream in the back of the freezer behind a bag of peas because Robin had a tendency to steal it.  

“You know she knows you put the Rocky Road back there right?” You asked, skipping the ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘is there any chance the phone cut out before I told you I love you’. “Honestly I don’t know how you can eat ice cream after working at Scoops.”  

“Me and ice cream have had our differences but, I mean, it’s Rocky Road…who turns their back on Rocky Road?” Steve asked, turning to look at you over his shoulder.  

“Right, my bad.” You looked away quickly, going to the fridge to grab a drink. You couldn’t hide from him but maybe you could hibernate in your room until Robin got home and then it wouldn’t be the two of you alone in the apartment. Or it would, but not alone in the same room. Alone in separate rooms, where you couldn’t say anything else embarrassing and he couldn’t mention that you told him you loved him. “I’ll be in my room. I uh, homework.” You grabbed your backpack from its spot by the couch (because you always complained about doing homework by yourself in your room and insisted on sitting on the couch and bothering your roommates with medical terminology until one of them agreed to help you study).  

“Are you sure?” Steve looked genuinely surprised because he’s known you for more than five minutes, “what if you need someone to quiz you?” 

“I’ll be fine.” You lied.  

The whole charade, thanks to Steve’s rare intuitiveness, lasted no more than thirty agonising minutes. You suspected, for the most part, that he was humouring you. Letting you sit there and stare at your textbook and act like you were capable of not distracting yourself when both of you knew that it was impossible. And eventually, when he decided enough time had passed, he knocked on the door.  

It was clear then that he was humouring you in more ways then one. Waiting to see if you would crack or if he would have to say something first. Naturally, it was the latter. “Hey, how’s it going?” Steve leaned against the doorframe of your open bedroom door. You’d left it unlocked and not fully closed, a sort of ‘I’m willing to talk but only if you start the conversation’.  

“Fine,” you replied, trying not to look over at him. The last thing you needed was to look over at Steve and lose all your nerve.  

He shrugged though you couldn’t actually see it, “Okay,” he said it like he didn’t believe you but he pushed off the doorframe and tapped the wall gently, “well tell me if you need a study partner.” 

“I will.” you nodded; eyes still diverted. 

He tapped the wall one more time, “alright,” he started to back out of the room before he stopped, calling your name, “one more thing.” 

Finally, you looked up, “what?”  

“I love you too.”  

[blaxcunicorn]

One-shot

Heeey! I just wrote something random as I felt a bit inspired after reading Just kids by Patti Smith. I have been busy with my exams which is why I've been gone for so long but we back!

Content: fem!reader, NSFW warning, Rockstar Eren before fame, friends to lovers, poverty

You hissed as you cut your pinky finger on a thorn while making a flower bouquet for a customer. You sucked it up and gave the sweet lady her bouquet with a smile. “It’s perfect, thank you. My daughter is going to love it.” She smiled. Her smile warmed your heart. Being a florist wasn’t the most fulfilling job, but making people like her smile motivates you. Well, that and putting food on the table. You grew up in the city's poorer side, so there weren’t many opportunities for you after high school. The florist job was the best thing you could find, it isn’t all bad, the owner has been nothing but kind to you. You heard the doorbell ring as Mrs Johnson came walking into the shop with bags that smelled like heaven. She and her husband owned the bakery next to the shop, and they would always bring you the leftovers of the day. “Here, my love, it’s not that much, but hopefully, it is enough for a day.” She smiled gently. You opened the bag; it was a sandwich, a croissant, and a whole loaf of bread. “This is more than enough, thank you.” You said gratefully, setting the store ready for closure. 

You walked into your tired apartment building, greeting the tired landlord who was seated at his usual desk spot. He gave you a sad smile as you stood outside your brown door with an eviction note taped on it. They were increasing the rent, and you were already struggling to meet the current increase of the last one. You had to sell your bed in order to afford last month’s payment. You opened the door to your small yellow-walled studio. You put the bakery bag on the counter, grab the sandwich, and cut it in half, leaving the other piece on the plate. As you sat down with your sandwich, you noticed a pair of pants with holes on the left knee on the table. You shook your head and pulled out your sewing equipment. As you almost finished stitching the pants, you heard the familiar sound of the heavy steps of construction boots.

Eren entered the room, greeting you with a warm grin. “Man, I’m exhausted, Gold, but how was your day?” He asked, putting his yellow helmet on the counter. He has called you Gold since childhood, which you never entirely understood. You and Eren grew up as neighbours in the very same building. You lived in another apartment with your grandmother, and Eren lived with his parents. Life dealt the two of you shitty cards, and Eren’s mother was killed in a robbery gone wrong when you were only five years old. His father passed away from a heart attack when he was fifteen, and he had to drop out of school to find a job. Your grandmother didn’t have the financial means to help him, but she would cook him meals as often as possible. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, as she passed away when you were sixteen. Eren offered you to move in with him so that you didn’t have to drop out like him. Mrs Johnson, who was your grandmother’s friend, helped you get a part-time job as a florist. You managed to finish high school, and well here you are. 

“Hello, Gold. Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. You jump a little as you had zoned out, I mean, how could you not? The construction job had made Eren quite built, he literally looked like a Greek God. “I’m fine, sorry. Just a little tired, that’s all.” You smiled while finishing the pants throwing it at Eren. “Thanks, you’re the best!” He grinned, caught it, and grabbed the other half of the sandwich. His smile disappeared the moment he came closer. He held your hand and stroked your finger with his thumb. “Don’t worry, I just cut myself a bit at work”, you smile, trying to ease the tension. Eren doesn't respond, his eyes are focused on the scar. “I will provide you a life where you don't have to take jobs that will leave you scars” he muttered. “Huh?” You said, looking confused. “Nothing..Hey, I brought a surprise!” He grinned, pulling out two bottles of cheap white wine. “What are we celebrating?” You smile, folding his pants. “The guys and I finished fixing the van! We are leaving for LA  by the end of next week!” He said excitedly, pulling out two plastic cups. You swallowed hard but tried to put on a smile for him, although your eyes were stinging. 

Eren learned how to play guitar from Armin’s grandfather at the age of fifteen. He owned an instrument shop and noticed that a couple of kids were interested in the instruments. It was first Connie who came in looking at the drums. Armin’s grandfather sat the bold boy down and taught him how to play the instrument. The second time Connie came, he brought his friend Jean. Jean was mesmerised by the beautiful black and white bass. Which after a few weeks, it became his best friend (after Connie, ofc!).

 Lastly, we have Eren, he was on his way home from work when he saw Armin’s grandfather struggle with some boxes. He offered to help, which the elderly man accepted. One of the boxes contained a black electric guitar. Armin’s grandfather offered Eren to try it out as he saw his green eyes glow at the sight of it. Weeks later, he introduced the three boys to his grandson Armin who could play both keyboard and guitar. The boys quickly became friends and started playing together in the evenings. Armin’s grandfather believed that it was better for the boys to be distracted from the crimes in the city, and what better distraction than music? The elderly man passed away four years later. From there on, the boys knew that they wanted to start a band and make it out of the city. They found an abandoned van that they spent a year fixing with the help of Jean’s mechanic background. The plan was to use the van to drive to LA and sleep in it if they couldn't afford a Motel. Now it being done meant that Eren would soon leave to follow his dreams. 

You took the cup, he offered you, “Cheers to you for making it in LA!” You said, smiling. “Cheers for the two of us making it in LA!” The Chestnut-haired man said, correcting you. “Us? As in..” 

“Would you think that I would leave you behind in this shitty city?” Eren asked, looking at you like you had stated something silly like the moon was made out of cheese. “Yeah, I mean…ehm”, you played with your fingers. The guys always referred to you as their fifth member. You weren't a direct member of the band, but you had sewed them a few pieces to wear when they’d do free bar performances. “I could never leave you behind, it’s you and me against the world. Like it always has been.” He grins, toasting his wine before downing it in one go. It warmed your heart to know that Eren would never forget about you. After finishing the bottles, the two of you are pretty drunk. “Eren, could you please play something for me?” You ask, batting your eyelashes.

You look so damn cute drunk. How could he say no? “Sure, what song?.” He says, picking up his guitar. “This Charming Man!” You say excitedly. You danced to Eren’s angelic voice, “Ah, a jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place!” You shout, and Eren gets up and dances with you. One day, I will write you a song that will make you dance like that, he thought to himself.  The two of you danced like you had no care in the world, as putting food on the table was not an issue, as you weren’t surrounded by crime and death. 

The two of you lie in bed, dizzy and out of breath but happy. You turn your bodies to face each other. “Eren, did you mean it when you said that it was the two of us against the world?” You ask for reinsurance. “Of course I did, I can’t imagine any other woman by my side but you.” The alcohol in his system was exposing him. You smiled while massage his ear lobe. “Is that so?” You whispered, dying of happiness on the inside. He doesn’t respond but looks at you like a lovesick crackhead. Your cheek burned, and you turned your head to face the cracking roof in embarrassment. 

Eren cupped your cheeks, forcing you to face him again. You leaned into the warmth of his rough hands. “What am I to you, Eren?” Your lips were almost touching, and the smell of wine filled your nose. He leans in and kisses you passionately. His lips were a big contrast to his hands. You felt a needy heat growing between your legs, it seemed like Eren was reading your mind as he slid his two fingers under your dress. “Already wet for me?” He whispered. “Yes,” you whined.

 Eren removed your dress and underwear, and you hissed in the chilly air. Eren doesn’t break eye contact with your as he spreads your legs and gives your cunt a long lick from the bottom of your vulgar, covering his tongue with your sweet juices. “God, Gold…you…taste…so…good”, he whispered, diving into your cunt. “Ah, Eren” you moan. You were confident that your neighbour Eric on the other side of the wall heard you.

 All Eren cared about right now was to make you cum, to release you from all the stress from your everyday life. "'I’m gonna cum," you whimpered, realising all over his mouth. “Good girl”, he whispered, kissing you, letting you taste yourself. “Eren, can you please fuck me?” you asked pathetically. He flipped you on your stomach. He leaned over and growled in your ear, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Get on all fours,” and kissed your back. You did what he demanded, feeling shivers all over your body.

 Eren collected cum from your vagina and smeared it all over his veiny cock. He gripped tight around your hips and hissed as he was entering you. Eren pumped slowly back and forth, the air was filled with your moans as your pussy was getting used to Eren’s colossal size. “Fuck”, he moaned as he started speeding up, digging his finger further into your flesh. “Gold, fuck me back. Fuck your cock back, it’s all yours”, he growled. Being the obedient woman you were, you threw your ass back. “Harder” he demanded, spanking you. “Ah, fuck Eren”, you moaned as your arms gave up on you and collapsed on the bed. That didn’t stop Eren as he lifted your hips and placed his cock inside of you. “Fuck, your pussy feels good. Keeping this from me for six years,” he groaned, continuing fucking you. Your face was on the pillow, which was a good thing as you were a moaning mess. 

Your eyes teared up as you felt your second climax blossoming. Eren could tell as you clenched around him, “Give it to me, give it to me.” He growled, feeling you squirt all over him. “Gold, I’m not finished. Take this cock.” He demanded, filling the air with your whimpers and the sound of your skin slapping. You used the last energy to get on all fours again, fucking him back “Ah, fuck! You want me to get all out, too, all this fucking frustration. Fuck it all into you.” He groaned. “Yes”, you moaned, throwing your ass back. His thrusts became rigid and slow as he was filling you up. 

Eren collapsed on the bed next to you while catching his breath. He kissed your forehead before you went to the toilet to pee. You walked out to see Eren comfy in bed. You lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Eren, you never answered my question, " you said, turning to face him. I’m in love with you, silly. Always has been, and always will be.” He said, yawing.

[bratzforchris]

More smut to the sugar daddy fic please I’m begging or just more smut in general you write so good

Make It Better

❃

Summary: Luke finds himself questioning his relationship with you when he starts to feel you drifting away, only to realize you're too valuable to lose. Part 2 to this fic <3

Pairing: Sugar daddy!Luke x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, DUB CON, brief phone sex scene, masturbating (m), oral (m and f receiving), arguments, bondage, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, unprotected p in v, pet names, blasphemy, Luke makes reader dress up, fluffy ending (I think that's all, but lmk in the comments if I missed something!)

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This is based off an idea/request from @gladexmuses! I'm so glad you all love this AU :)) Once again, Luke strayed more towards boyfriend than sugar daddy, but I can't help it. I'm just so soft for bf Luke :p

DNI under 18

❃

You sighed, throwing your book down on the table. As much as you adored learning and knowledge, exam season was your least favorite part of being in college. You didn’t know what it was, but you’d suddenly been struggling in nearly all of your classes. Maybe it was the harder material, or maybe it was just your body starting to shut down from the stress, but either way, you didn’t like it. You reached for your phone to call Luke, only to hover above the device, contemplating your next move. 

You longed to call Luke and vent all your problems to him, but the more anxious part of you remembered the very generous donation Luke had made towards your tuition last month. You didn’t want him to worry, or think he’d made a mistake by paying off the loans for you to attend Columbia. You also knew that in order to afford the lifestyle he lived, and the sugar-babylike relationship he gave you, he was most likely working, despite it being Sunday. You laid your head down on the small desk in your dorm, sniffling softly. 

Your whole life, you’d been defined as the “smart girl”. You were in the gifted and talented program as a younger kid, only to be followed by being the valedictorian and the only person from your graduating class to end up at an Ivy League university. So to struggle now felt like a hit to everything you had ever known. Were you even qualified to be at this school? 

Just then, your phone began to buzz on your desk, indicating an incoming call. You picked it up and turned it over, seeing a rather risque picture of Luke flash across the screen. As much as you didn’t want to bother him, your heart longed to talk to Luke, and besides, he was already calling you. 

“Hi.” You said softly, innocently, just the way he liked. 

“Hey baby girl,” he hummed. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, my usual…” You said nonchalantly, trying not to let your emotions shine through your voice as you twisted a lock of hair around your finger. 

“Come over,” Luke practically moaned into the phone. “I need you.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” You teased him, a smile crossing your face slowly. 

Instead of answering, you could hear Luke beginning to jack off in the background of the call. His hips bucked against the bed, the springs making squeaky noises as Luke’s right hand pleasured him. His moans were so loud that they nearly crept through the phone, tickling your own heat and making you clench your legs despite your stress. 

“Oh god, Y/N,” the blond whimpered out as he came close to climaxing. “Need your body so fuckin’ bad, princess.” 

You clenched your thighs tighter as you listened to Luke get himself off, moaning so damn loudly when he came. Even after all this time, you didn’t understand how his pull on you was so magical. You weren’t particularly in the mood to have sex, but you still felt called to go seek out your sugar daddy anyway, his presence making everything better. 

“Fine, be there soon,” You smirked. “Clean yourself up before I get there.”

“You better watch your slutty little mouth, baby girl.” he said into the phone, voice rough and husky from the effects of his self-pleasure. 

You giggled cutely, blowing a kiss into the phone before hanging up. You shoved your assignments to the side of your desk, trying to put them out of your mind for the moment. Right now, all you were supposed to think about was Luke. You packed your Fendi purse that Luke had bought for you carefully, before slipping out of your dorm and down the stairs of your residence hall. When you stepped out into the cold of New York City in November, you gulped in a breath of fresh air, glancing up at the gray sky. The sidewalk was bustling with people, even at two in the afternoon on a Sunday, but hey, that was city life for you. 

You stayed rooted in place for a moment, head craned back as you examined the skyscrapers that towered over your head. No matter how long you lived in New York City, you were always in awe at the architecture. You stood frozen in place until your phone pinged with a message, reminding you of what you were supposed to actually be doing. 

Luke: I miss you and your hot body, baby

You replied back to Luke with a “be there soon” and a winking face, before starting the trek to the subway station. You wondered what Luke had planned for the afternoon as you boarded the train. You weren’t particularly in the mood to have sex, but you did want the blond’s company. When he wasn’t domming you in the bedroom, you could see that loving little boy shine through his personality, before the stress of the world and his job on Wall Street got to him. You laid your head back against the window, listening to your favorite playlist while you thought about how much you adored Luke. 

Before long, you reached your stop and you hurried up the stairs to the sidewalks of 57th street. You craned your neck and smiled up at Luke’s enormous glass building. This neighborhood left you in awe no matter how many times you came to Luke’s apartment. You hurried into the high-rise building, pulling your key from your bag. At this point in your relationship, Luke had given you your own personal key to his penthouse suite, and you quickly slipped into the private elevator, punching the button to go up to his floor. 

“Luke?” You called out when the doors opened, stepping into his home. “Where are you?”

“Over here.” he called out from the enormous, L-shaped couch in the living room. 

You walked over to the sofa, peering over the back and smiling at the sight you saw. Luke was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants with no shirt, glasses on and carefully reviewing what looked like some sort of graph for the stock market. If you didn’t know him, you would’ve just assumed he was a typical twenty-eight year old and not a multi-billionaire who also happened to be your sugar daddy. 

As soon as the blond saw you looking over the back of the couch, he placed the laptop aside and pulled you over the furniture and into him. “Hey, pretty girl.” he said, planting a deep kiss on your lips. 

“Hi Luke.” You whispered softly, relaxing into his arms. 

The blond simply didn’t answer; instead, he opted to run his hands up and down your ass, moaning softly. His strawberry-blond stubble scratched against your cheek as he let the low, throaty sound flow into your ear. Once he had gotten his fill of feeling you up, he whispered in your ear. 

“My smart, sexy girl.” he hummed huskily. 

That made your stomach drop to your feet. How on earth were you supposed to explain to Luke your declining grades, especially after he’d paid your tuition. There was no way you could explain to someone that was, a) paying your full ride and b) a multiple PhD holder from Ivies, that you were nearly failing classes. 

You pushed up off Luke’s chest, straightening yourself out. You pushed your glasses up your nose and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t have come today,” You said softly. “This was a mistake.”

Luke quirked his brow at you, looking you up and down. “What was that?”

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled, standing up off of Luke’s lap and going to grab your bag. “This isn’t your fault at all, it’s mine. I need to go.”

The blond grabbed your wrist, searching your eyes deeply. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Nothing, Luke. I gotta go.” You whispered sadly, yanking your hand from his grasp and starting to make your way towards the elevator. 

Being 6’4”, Luke’s strides placed him in front of the exit before you could get there. “Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he said, blocking your way out, arms crossed over his chest. “You immediately agreed to coming over, Y/N.”

Your heart raced as you looked up at Luke. In your heart, you really believed he was a good man, but you recalled stories you’d heard and seen in the news headlines about women like you, sugar babies, getting seriously hurt or killed because they chose not to do what was asked of them. 

“I…I can’t tell you, Luke. I’m sorry. It’s nothing bad, I’m not seeing another man. It’s just–I can’t.” You whispered. 

The blond snorted, rolling his eyes. “What? So you can’t even talk to me now?” 

“No!” You protested. “I just don’t want to burden you. You deserve to dom me when I’m happy, Luke. Not when I’m miserable, that’s not fun for you.” 

“Oh baby,” he cooed. “Never in a million years would you ever be not fun for me,” the blond brought you into his arms, running his large, warm hand up and down your back. “Now, why don't you tell me what’s going on, hmm?” he asked, tipping your chin up with his hand. 

“I can’t.” You mumbled into his broad chest, tears pricking your eyes. 

“And why is that? Are you cheating?” he asked seriously, face growing stern for a moment. “Be fucking serious, Y/N.”

“I’m not,” You said truthfully, relaxing when you could tell Luke believed you. “It’s just, well, I don’t want to burden you since our relationship is rather…transactional.” You said, drifting your eyes from the blonde’s face to his hardening dick. 

“You can tell me anything, baby girl,” Luke chuckled, knowing you’d noticed his situation. “Kink is more than just sexual; it’s emotional too. You know that.” 

“Well…here goes nothing,” You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know if it’s because it’s exam season or if I’m just stressed out, but I’ve been really struggling in my classes.” You mumbled, hiding your face in the blond’s chest. 

“Princess, why didn’t you just say that?” Luke kissed your forehead. “You know I won’t judge my pretty girl. Do you need a tutor? Homework help?”

“It’s just…when you called me smart and sexy, it made me feel like I’d let you down. Especially after you paid for my tuition. I feel like I’m letting everyone who has ever called me the smart girl down.” You said, starting to cry. 

“Baby girl, look at me,” Luke hummed. “You are not letting anyone down, okay? I wouldn’t have paid your tuition if I didn’t believe in you. A period of downs doesn’t mean there aren’t new ups coming. And if anyone judges your grades, fuck them. You’re at an Ivy League university, Y/N, and you’re killing it,” he smirked. “Not to mention maintaining a perfect body, but that’s not a conversation for right now.” Luke chuckled. 

You smiled softly at the blond’s reassurance, filled with new hope. “You aren’t mad?”

“Never.”

You hugged Luke tightly, burying your face in his chest and inhaling his strong, manly scent. “You smell good.”

“Why thank you,” he laughed. “Now, let’s make sure we get that stress taken care of, yeah?” Luke said, reaching for the button on your jeans. 

“I’m not sure,” You whispered softly. “I don’t know if I really want to. I would like a kiss, though.” You smiled. 

“I’ll make it all better, princess.” he smirked, slowly running his hands up your back and undoing the clasp of your bra. 

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as Luke ran his hands along your boobs. Luke planted a kiss on your lips, beginning to roughly make out with you. His heated body pressed against your own was slowly turning you on, but you still were unsure about if this was a good idea or not. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Luke mumbled, picking you up under the ass and carrying you into his large, master suite bedroom. The blond sat you down on the bed, eyeing you carefully. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking you up and down. “Well, you know what to do.”

You knew what Luke wanted, so you quickly kneeled on the bed, looking up at him and fluttering your lashes. “Yes sir.” 

“Good girl,” the blond said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Luke left your side, going into his huge, walk-in closet. Part of you wondered what he was doing, but part of you also knew. Your dom absolutely adored when you wore lingerie, and you were pretty sure he’d gotten you a new set. Sure enough, he stepped out a moment later, holding a pile of pink, lacy fabric with something metal on top. He came back to your side, smirking with that look that had made you fall for him way back. 

“What better way to ease you into it than a new set, hmm?” Luke smiled. “Arms up, baby girl. You know this is my job.” 

You nodded, allowing Luke to remove your shirt and bra, and then your pants and underwear. You had to admit that letting him take the reins was slowly relaxing you, allowing you to go into your floaty subspace, not worrying about anything. Once Luke had undressed you, he revealed the pink fabric from earlier to you. 

It was a lacy, hot pink lingerie set. The rose embroidery outlined the cups of the bra perfectly, and on the ass of the panties was Princess in white rhinestones. They clipped together with hot pink garters, studded with the same matching rhinestones. The set wasn’t what caught your eye, though. Luke dangled a pair of handcuffs in front of your face, a devilishly handsome smirk on his beautiful face. You were used to bondage in your and Luke’s scenes, but these handcuffs were different. They were a beautiful, shiny silver, with the wider part inlaid with shiny, Swarovski crystals that glinted in the sun that was streaming in through the large glass windows. 

“Luke…it’s beautiful. Thank you.” You whispered sweetly. 

The blond slid the lingerie set on you with care, leaving slight kisses all over your skin. He then grabbed the handcuffs. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me do what I want, right? I know you have it in you, princess.” Luke smirked, planting a heated kiss on your lips. 

“Mhm,” You said, bowing your head as you continued to kneel. “I promise.” You smiled. 

“I knew you had it. Good fuckin’ girl.” Luke smirked, putting your hands in the cuffs and then attaching you to his enormous headboard. 

You smiled softly up at him, nodding your head. Luke pulled out his phone, snapping a quick photo on his phone. Once he had done so, he tossed the device to the side, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of the panties. 

“Relax, honey. We’ll get all that stress properly fucked out.” he smirked. 

Luke slid the flimsy lace off your legs, chuckling when you unconsciously clenched your thighs. He spread your legs apart with his large, ringed hands, lustfully licking his lips as he gazed at your already wet slit. The blond didn’t even really give you the opportunity to say much else before he began to tap out a gentle, pulsing rhythm on your clit. 

“Oh god,” You whimpered. “Don’t be a tease.”

“‘M not teasin’, honey. Just getting you ready to cum.” he said, planting a kiss on your pubic bone. 

“Right there. Oh my god, keep going.” You gasped out, wriggling against your bonds as Luke hit a particularly pleasurable spot with his fingers. 

“Awww, you don’t even need my tongue to cum, baby.” Luke teased you. 

You panted as Luke crouched down, beginning to run his tongue up and down your slit and across your thighs as he continued to pleasure your clit. He was humming soft things about how good you tasted and how pretty you were, teasing with soft flicks over his tongue. Once he’d had his fill of practically torturing you, the blond began to fully eat you out, enjoying the way your legs were clenching around his neck. 

You felt the warm ball that had knotted itself in your stomach burn hotter, as well as your walls beginning to contract, and you knew you were close. “Hmmm, Luke,” You whimpered. “Need to cum.”

“Not yet, honey. Haven’t had my fill of you.” Luke lifted his head for a moment to speak, landing a smack to your ass, to which you cried out in pleasure. 

You were panting and huffing as Luke continued to eat you out, hands straining against the cuffs. Between his tongue and the stimulation on your electric spot from his fingers, you were ready to orgasm faster than you ever had before. Finally, Luke decided he was truly ready to taste you. 

“Cum for me, honey,” he whispered into your folds. “Cum all in my mouth, baby girl.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you immediately let go, tugging against the handcuffs as you came in his mouth, letting out erotic moans as you did so. “Oh god, Luke.”

“You like that, princess?” he asked, sitting back on his haunches and staring at you with an expectant smile. 

You nodded quickly, letting a string of praises for the blond fall from your lips. Luke grabbed the key to the handcuffs off the nightstand and undid your bonds, pressing a soft kiss to the red spots on your wrist with a quiet, husky “good girl”. As soon as you were free from the restraints, you sat up, throwing your arms around Luke’s neck. 

“Thank you for encouraging me, I needed that.” You smiled, giving him doe eyes as you kissed his cheek. 

“You’re welcome, pretty princess,” Luke smiled, groping your ass. “Do you see why I said I could never be mad at you earlier?” he asked. 

You nodded, snuggling into his chest as you laid your head on his shoulder. You played innocent for a moment, before you snuck your hand down to his sweatpants-clad dick. You cheekily ran your hand up and down his shaft, palming him as you giggled. 

“Is that you asking for more, my love?” Luke asked you, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” You giggled. “Depends on what you’re offering, sir.”

“I’m offering for you to be filled with my dick, but if you don’t want that…” he shrugged nonchalantly. 

“No, please. I do.” You hummed, running your hands through his blond curls. 

“Get on your knees, then.” Luke said firmly, but not unkindly. 

You did as he gasped, wincing when you realized how sensitive your pussy still was from Luke’s stimulation, which elicited a laugh from the blond. Once you were kneeling, you looked at Luke through your lashes, smiling as you watched him remove his pants and begin to palm himself until he was acceptably hard. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take my whole cock in that slutty little mouth?” he smirked. 

You nodded quickly, reaching out for him. “Let me make you feel good.”

Luke smirked, getting on his own knees in front of you, an expectant smile on his face. “Suck.” he demanded, landing another spanking to your ass. 

You immediately took Luke’s tip into your mouth, running your tongue across the head of his dick in a way that made the blond grunt out with pleasure. As you got him worked up, you began to pump the lower part of his erection with your right hand, watching him throw his head back erotically. 

“God, makin’ me feel so good, baby.” he hummed out. 

You responded with your own moans vibrating against his dick as you took more of him into your mouth, which got even more of a reaction out of Luke. By this point, you had taken almost his entire length into your mouth, sucking and running your tongue along his tip. Luke was letting out moans akin to a male pornstar, his head thrown back as he thrusted his hips to meet your jaw.

“Mmmm, need to cum, princess.” he gasped out as his dick hit the back of your throat. 

You smiled up at him with your eyes as he landed another spank to your ass, enjoying the way it shoved you further into him. The whole scene was rather unholy, but it was definitely hot. Luke was thrusting his hips as he panted out, while you sucked him off, letting out your own girlish moans. Without warning, Luke suddenly clenched his muscle and began to cum, thich, white ropes of the substance shooting down your throat. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” he huffed. 

You slowly pulled back from Luke, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yum.” You giggled. 

Luke kissed your forehead, running a hand through your tousled hair. “You really are the best sugar baby in the world.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, pushing yourself ever close to him, smirking when you realized his cock was still hard. “It’s all because of you.”

“Is that so, baby girl?” the blond chuckled. 

You nodded your head, slowly leaning back against Luke’s silken pillows to prop yourself up. “Mhm…I was thinking you could maybe, you know, remind me of that?” You smirked sweetly. 

“Oh baby, someone’s horny today,” Luke grinned, running a hand along the lacy bra that was still clad to your tits. “What happened to that ‘I don’t want this’, huh?”. 

You blushed, looking up at him as he straddled you. “You just made it better, I guess. That’s what happens when you’re smart, and loving, and might I add oh-so-sexy.”

He shook his head, wriggling his hips in the slightest way to give you a bit of friction. Not a lot, but just enough to turn you on. “You know you’re really being a slut right now, my love.” Luke looked like the most handsome devil as he spoke. As if he could burn the world down and smirk as he did so, but it would all be for you. 

“Only for you, Lu,” You hummed, pressing his hands to your boobs. “Only for you.”

“Are you in it for me, or for the money?” Luke teased you. 

“I mean mostly for you, but the money’s nice too.” You winked. 

Luke kissed your forehead as he dug his hips into your own. “Keep talking like that and I might just fall in love with you, princess.”

“You know, that wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” You smiled, lifting your head to make out with him. 

The blond moaned at that, continuing where you two had left off a few minutes before. You noticed him move to line his tip up with your entrance, smirking as he did so. “Can you take my cock, baby? Or are you already so fucked out.”

“God, Luke. Please just fuck me.” You whined out, gripping at the sheets. 

Luke immediately slammed into you at your request, smirking as he looked down at your face. You weren’t used to Luke’s size and length without a condom, and you were practically intoxicated with ecstasy at the feeling of him grinding against you bare. The blond fucked into you hard and fast, bucking his hips against you in a way that would definitely leave bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care though, the feeling of Luke inside of you had taken every coherent thought from your mind. 

Moving from dripping the sheets, you tangled your hands in Luke’s blond curls, practically yelling out as he rode you. Luke must’ve been feeling extra horny today; whatever it was, you were definitely feeling its effects, but you couldn’t say you were mad about them. You were always ready to cum faster on your second orgasm than on your first, which led you to where you were now, gripping Luke’s hair as a tear rolled down your cheek at the overstimulation. 

“Luke, I’m so close.” You gasped out, feeling yourself tighten in preparation for your climax. 

“You can do it, baby girl. I know you can. Show me how strong you are.” Luke coached you, enjoying watching you squirm. 

“Luke, please,” You cried out. “Need to cum.”

The blond gave one last hard thrust against you, landing a smack to your ass as he did so, before quickly pulling out, just in time to cum all over your stomach as you hit your own climax. “God, so sexy.” he moaned. 

Luke laid down beside you, rubbing your tummy to coach you through the rest of your high, feeling his own body start to relax a bit.  By the time you had finished, you were both beyond exhausted. You flopped over into Luke’s arms, panting heavily as he held you, your naked bodies pressed together. 

“Thank you,” You whispered softly. “I needed that today.”

“You’re welcome, baby girl. I love you.” Luke cooed. 

“Are you busy this afternoon?” You asked sleepily. 

While Luke was practically the king of aftercare, especially for a sugar daddy, there were definitely days where you’d both cum and he’d go back to working. You were hoping today wasn’t one of those days, but Wall Street was so unpredictable, you never knew. The blond snuggled you closer, running a hand about and down your back. 

“Nope, but there is a little gift waiting for you on the kitchen counter if you’re ready to leave.” he smirked. 

“Luke!” You swatted his shoulder lightly. “This is more than enough.” You said, gesturing down at your bra. 

“I don’t think so,” he shrugged. “What better way to get in the Christmas spirit than a pair of red bottoms, huh princess?”

“You didn’t!” You said, gripping him closer and kissing him. “I can’t believe you bought me a pair of Louboutins.”

“Only the finest for my girl.” Luke said, kissing you deeply. 

“I love you, Luke. I’m sorry about earlier…” You whispered. 

“Ah ah, no sorries, my love. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re struggling,” Luke looked at you seriously. “I hope you know that you can tell me anything. My degrees, my career, none of that affects how I look at you, okay?” 

You nodded, snuggling into his chest. “Thank you. Naptime now?” You asked. 

Luke chuckled, holding you ever closer. “Always. I love you, princess.” 

[bekaroth-reads]

Stardew Valley Shane x Reader

[based on the fact that most of the time when he asks why you’re bothering him, his avatar is still smiling.]

Pelican Town was a pretty nice place to live. There weren’t too many other people living here, and your farm was far enough from the actual town that you didn’t get to see the other residents too often. But, you did still see them enough that you were friendly with all of them and actually starting to be friends with some of them. Everyone here seemed to be naturally friendly, even if they were on the more quiet side personality-wise.

And, then there was Shane.

He always looked like he was about to keel over any minute, and half of the time that keeling looked to be by choice. Not that you could really blame him seeing as he was working at the Joja Mart. You had worked for that company long enough yourself to know how much of the life it can suck out of someone. Not to mention he was dealing with a retail job, which was difficult to stomach even if it was somewhere other than Joja. Not that there were too many other people outside of Pelican that went there and would treat him poorly. Shane did have the advantage of living in a smaller town so that even if someone had a problem with him, it would be less likely for it to be blown to a large proportion as that would cause a ripple through the whole population; not to mention that everyone respected Marnie too much to ever do something to cause her grief. No, what most people felt about Shane was pity. They all gave him space though and he seemed to like that.

Regardless, you were always sure to at least wave at Shane when you saw him. For the first month or so you would simply wave or maybe give a, “Good morning,” as when you usually saw him as you were passing each other in the town square on mornings you had to stop at Pierre’s. This was usually met with complete silence or an annoyed grunt. It didn’t bother you too much. You weren’t much of a morning person yourself and understood not wanting to have a full conversation that early in the day. Things changed a little bit once the two of you were properly introduced; perhaps not properly, but there was an introduction. You were over checking prices on things with Marnie as you wanted to be sure you could afford everything you needed if you bought some chickens when Shane came walking in from the other room. “Oh, this is my nephew Shane. I’m sure the two of you have seen each other before.” She offered when he didn’t say anything to you. “Oh, we’ve met before.” You offered as an explication to ease the scolding tone that she was giving Shane. “I don’t know you,” was all that Shane said before walking out the door before Marnie could say anything about it.

After that, you would be a bit more forward about talking to him. Nothing too much past what you were already doing, but instead of just, “Good morning,” you would ask, “How are you?” Or, you would even do something as simple as addressing him by name. Shane in turn, evolved from ignoring or grunting at you to talking back. Of course, it was things like, “Why are you talking to me,” or, “I’m busy.” It was still talking though, and when you talked to Marnie about it to make sure you weren’t making him uncomfortable, she first apologized for how curt he was being, but then seemed floored that he even said that much to you. She said the most he ever talked to anyone that wasn’t her or Jas was when he ordered a drink at the pub or when he was forced to give one to two-word answers at work. There was still a feeling that he was a bit out of his comfort zone, but Marnie assured you if there was a real problem you would know about it; that or she would, and seeing as she didn’t want her nephew to be any more unhappy than he already was she would tell you herself.

Things were really changed last night. It was Friday night, and you decided to go to the pub. It would be nice to just relax for an evening and since that was the night that most of everyone else went to the pub as well it would be nice to catch up with some people you hadn’t seen in a while. When you got there, the usual crowd was there as well, some of them waving as you walked in the door. You ended up spending most of the night talking with Leah with Emily popping in from time to time when she wasn’t helping Gus. You noticed Shane standing in a corner by himself. It seemed that Leah saw you glance in that direction, and commented, “Poor guy. Everyone hates to see him feel so down and out all the time. But, there’s not much anyone can do to help him. He’ll choose beer over help anytime.” There was a bit of derision in her voice, but nothing too uncalled for as it did look like he was at least partially doing this to himself. Before the conversation could continue Emily stopped by on her break and started talking about something completely different.

As the night went on more and more people made their way home. Eventually, there was only a fraction of the people left in the bar. This led to you sitting at the bar. And, only a chair away from Shane. The positioning wasn’t planned, simply from you both taking what seats were available at the time and not moving when others opened up. You were drinking your last drink for the night while Shane was halfway through his third tankard of beer. Not that it should have been impressive, but you found it morbidly amazing that he could have had that much and still be as relatively sober as he was; Gus’s tankards were by no means small. You looked at him from the corner of your eye as you took another drink. “Hey,” you greeted and you saw his tense shoulders slump, seeming deflating because you were bothering him. But, with a few drinks in him, Shane found his tongue loosened more than usual.

“Why do you talk to me?” He asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You respond.

This made Shane stop and think for a minute. “It…” he huffed and mumbled so quietly that you almost missed it, “People just don’t.” There was another pause of neither of you talking. Finally, Shane broke the silence again. “Look, if you really want to impress me then buy me another drink.” It surprised everyone, who neither of you noticed were at least glancing at you both frequently because of how odd it was to see Shane out of his corner and talking to someone. It surprised Shane as well when you looked up from your drink and called, “Hey, Gus.” He came walking over, pretending to not have just been talking about the two of you with Emily. You nodded toward Shane and requested, “Get this man a water, if you don’t mind.” Gus did his best to hide a laugh, relieved that he didn’t have to explain to you that he had already cut Shane off for the night. Shane’s face scrunched up moments before he hid it under his hood, and hissed, “Are you serious?”

“Hey, you said a drink. Never said which one.” You chuckle as you catch the glass Gus slid at you. “Besides, you could use it before you walk home.” You gave his shoulder a few pats before standing up to leave. Even though most of his face was covered, you could see the slight twitch of a starting smile threaten to make its way onto his face. You paid Gus and said goodbye to Shane. Everyone sat there like they were witnessing an impossibility when he waved back.

This morning while you were waiting for Pierre’s to open for the day, you saw a certain Joja Mart employee making his way to work. “Good morning, Shane. How are you?” You greeted as he walked by you. He paused a moment like he was thinking about saying something else but eventually grumbled out, “Busy. Why are you talking to me…” as he kept walking past. However, you noticed that little smile start to invade his dower face once again. Maybe Shane didn’t mind you talking to him as much as he acted like he did.

[mswyrr]

more on michelin stars

I genuinely think it's going to be an important plot point in s3 re: why exactly Sydney wants a star and why *one* specifically. I went and researched and discovered something I used in my fic, which is that one Michelin star restaurants are excellent cuisine that normal people can still afford. And that connected, for me, to what Sydney had told Marcus about how going out was so special when she was a kid and she wanted to share that kind of amazing thing with people:

We didn't really like eat out a lot growing up, so when we did, it felt special even if it wasn't.... I wanna cook for people and make them happy and give them the best bacon on Earth (1x08)

I'm so hopeful/convinced that the research they have with, like, Matty (the chef who plays Fak) right there on set, means the writers know that about what one star places can be like. And that it's meant to be part of this - more humane vision of excellence for Sydney, where their spot is AMAZING, but it's not a cruel kitchen culture, it's not only for the rich.

For her, it’s *part* of her vision, where she says: 

“I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.“ (1x03)

But Carmy sees a star and all it means (all he’s ever known it to mean) as a repudiation of that kind of humanity. You say the word "star" and immediately Carmy goes "fuck stars" (2x01) as pure self-defense - because stars are just pain and suffering to him. They're NYC chef and everything that mess became.

He's so traumatized by the whole thing he doesn't think to ask the right questions: why do you want one? What is your vision for it? Why do you specifically want *one* instead of two or three? What timeline do you have in mind for getting there and how can we strategize on this together?

Instead, because he wants so desperately to please her, despite that instinctive, self-defensive "fuck stars" he relents and asks - okay, are you sure? Are you positive this is what you want? Really?? It's terrible. It's just dread and fear and throwing up every day before work. You really want me to give you this?

(I’ll give you anything you want)

He never asks the right questions. Just assuming the level of pain which is his only experience of this is what the thing IS--playing into that theme about how people only know what they're taught, only know what they are given, and if we are given pain and patterns of it it is so hard to even imagine things can be different and, when you can imagine it, still so hard to actually get there.

(It’s not a coincidence that the ASL sign is one of the few positive, healthy examples of kitchen culture Carmy witnessed - we only know what we’re taught, and it can be hard work to even figure out what “not shitty” IS let alone doing it)

So he's assuming all of that and it's like - if she's his CDC, does she want him to push her as hard as he was pushed? Push himself that hard again? He doesn't want to do either of those things. But that's all he knows. And she keeps saying this is what she wants. And he wants to give her everything she wants.

(In the same conversation she kept saying yes, this is what I want, she expressed admiration for the designer chef outfit he later buys her as a gift - he wants to give her everything she wants, even when it seems like a terrible idea he’s torn about)

I think this misunderstanding is intentional and it’s going to come out in S3. A one star restaurant fits so perfectly with what we know of Sydney’s goals and love for her work! And Carmy not able to even conceive of something better because of the patterns he’s stuck in and finding his way to her vision makes sense for him.

I think Carmy figuring out how this work can be joyful and humane is going to be a huge part of S3. Sydney not becoming lost in the high stress environment, not following in younger!Carmy's footsteps living a life of pure drive and dread, and Carmy finding that for the first time.

I do think that, given where they both end in 2x10, there’s going to be a period of conflict and a real bunch of issues for both of them - but with themes and ideas like this seeded into the story there’s so many ways to make s3 start out in a bad way and then really end in joy in a beautiful way?

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

not swifties screaming and crying about how Taylor has ''earned'' all of her success through hard work as if she's not the poster child of mainstream music. her parents pulled the strings to get in to the scene (which i actually didnt know and was SHOCKED to find out), she gets so much radioplay, gets nominated every year in every category they can shove her in, wins awards she doesn't deserve and literally has every door open for her. it's d-i-s-g-u-s-t-i-n-g. learning about musicians who had so much passion for music that in order to make it they left home, had to live on the street, couldn't afford to eat and yet they kept playing gigs until they caught the eye of a record label is crazy. but sure, Taylor just worked so fucking hard to make the most soulless music know to man. poor her

YES HER WIKIPEDIA PAGE IS SO INCRIMINATING

she came from a family with an immense amount of wealth and she is spoiled beyond belief. going to nyc EVERY weekend for vocal lessons? can you imagine going to nashville with your mom and demo-ing tapes all bc you felt inspired by a documentary? the amount of time, resources and investment they were able to put in?!? hiring a talent manager?!? her dad literally having the privilege to change branches of his work to further her career?!? i wouldnt be surprised at all if her parents are paying for these noms at award shows and her awards themselves. no wonder she’s so entitled she’s been getting everything she wants her whole life! how much of a hard worker/grinder can you be when all of this was handed to you on a silver platter? so many artists deserve the spotlight she has but will never get it because of her greed and consistent ability to sell. her success really is so frustrating knowing how many talented artists there are out there who will never be as successful because of the means they were born into. ugh i hate her

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

I don't want to hear thoughts... Unless they're yours.

Chapter 10: You're worth it. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.6k Warning: I don't think there are any here? Just so much fluff. Summary: Wanda wanted to live the normal life she was never afforded, but something was always missing. Something she denied herself and buried deep inside. But watching you move next door, she quickly realizes that this may not be possible for much longer. Especially with all the interesting things she found in your thoughts. Chapter summary: A day around the pool with the Maximoff family and and evening with your favorite neighbour, is just the perfect way to spend a Sunday. Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8 ; Part 9; Part 10; Series materlist                                     Masterlist of all my works

You couldn’t stop thinking of Wanda the entire night. You thought of the day you had with her as you showered, random moments replaying in your mind and making you smile, you thought of the way she kissed you, while you lay in bed, the hungry way her hands pulled you towards her, the warm feeling of being in her presence. She was so dreamy. But you knew that about her, you just never allowed yourself to really feel it, scared to get infatuated with a woman, who wouldn’t want you back. But she did! She kissed you! God, it felt so good to be kissed by her. You were practically melting, just remembering it. With all those thoughts, it took hours to finally fall asleep. You kept thinking about the next day, thinking of what you’ll do together, what kind of lunch you’ll prepare, what to wear, if the house was clean and orderly enough. With all of it, it was a miracle you fell asleep at all. It certainly wasn’t easy… When you woke up, you started with preparations, coffee and getting the house in order, picking an appropriate bathing suit, checking the fridge if you had enough food and running to the shower, so you could shave. It felt like time was flying by and soon enough your doorbell rang and you were met with the happy faces of the Maximoff family. Wanda, listening to your thoughts, had been the same mess, but she looked so much more composed than you did. She wore a charming sundress, the straps of her bathing suit peaking out around her neck. She looked lovely. But it was her smile that you thought made her look so beautiful. It was what you looked forward to the most. Billy and Tommy were right behind her and they greeted you with enthusiasm, excitedly telling you that they had floaties now, barely waiting till they could jump in the water. You watched Wanda help them settle, while you made her a coffee, remembering the first time you invited them over. They looked more relaxed now and so did you. Although, the kiss you shared with Wanda the previous night had you on edge a little. Did she want that to happen again? You hoped so, reasoning that she probably wouldn’t have come to your house if she didn’t. The kids were just jumping in the water when you brought out the coffee, setting it on the table next to Wanda and pulling off your dress, before you lost your courage. Sitting on your lounge chair opposite her, you watched her do the same, confident and perfectly composed. She looked gorgeous and you wondered if you should tell her that, when her voice interrupted your thoughts and brought you back to her.

“Thank you for having us again, Y/N. The boys were over the moon when they heard we’re coming here.” She said with a smile. “It’s my pleasure.” You smiled back at her. “I see that they’re enjoying their new floaties.” “Yes, they were very happy when they arrived.” “They seem to be.” You smiled, looking over at the two boys. “I’m also very happy to see you again.” She said with a knowing look in her eyes. “So am I.” You said, trying to look away from her eyes. She turned you shy so easily, that you weren’t sure how you were going to last a whole day in her presence. “I had a great time yesterday. I hope you know that.” Wanda continued, wanting to reach out and take your hand in hers and finding herself too far away to do it. “So did I. I’m so glad you invited me.” You nodded. It seemed that she wanted to reassure you and show you that her intentions haven’t changed and it was working, easily melting you into a more relaxed state. “I might have had an ulterior motive for that.” Wanda smirked, fixing you with a knowing look. “Miss Maximoff!” You feigned shock. “How unbecoming of you, to invite me to your house under false pretences.” “Oh honey…” She chuckles, low and seductive. “You have no idea how lucky you are for that interruption… Without it, I might have taken advantage of you.” She says, a glint of longing in her eyes, as if imagining herself doing it right as she spoke to you. Right as she looked you in the eye. “You’d do such a thing?” You let out an overly dramatic gasp, smiling that she played along with your joke. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” She says with a mysterious look on her face, fixing you with one last stare, before she lays across her lounge chair, her perfect body on display in front of your hungry gaze. Her words are so alluring, so tempting and you find yourself hoping to find out what exactly is that woman capable of and something tells you that’s what she wanted. She knew she was putting a dangerous thought in your head and she knew you would spend the next minutes that passed, thinking of nothing but the things she might have done to you, had you stayed last night. God, that woman was a tease. And she was good at it too. You tried and failed to ignore the urge to think back on last night, laying down on your lounge chair, just as she had, while your mind wandered back to the way she held you, the way she touched you, the way she made you wrap your legs around her as she kissed you. The feeling of her had been electrifying, almost leaving you in a daze, had it not been for the interruption. What would she have done, had this not happened? How far would she have gone? What about you? How far would you let her get, while drunk on her lips?

 “Save those thoughts for later.” You heard Wanda’s voice, which pulled you back to reality. The woman was smirking again, playful eyes studying you curiously. For a moment you stood frozen in place. The cockiness of that woman! She was so sure of herself and it made you want to prove her wrong, even if she wasn’t. “What makes you think I was thinking of you?” You asked, returning her smile. If Wanda wasn’t a mind-reader, your comment would have made her jealous. You weren’t meant to think of anyone but her. But her power gave her the confidence she would have lacked otherwise and she knew you were simply pushing her buttons, trying to rile her up, just as she was doing. “Call it intuition.” She said, winking at you. “You’re very sure of yourself, Miss Maximoff.” You countered, taking a sip from your now cold coffee. “It’s what you like about me.” She shrugged. “Isn’t that right?” She challenged. “I have to say, it is very attractive on you.” You admitted. You didn’t mind telling her that, especially since it was true. You usually didn’t like conceding so quickly, but you had to admit that you liked her. You liked how freely she talked with you, you liked that she was interested from the start, the she came to see you, that she took the time to talk to you, to take care of you, even when you were stubbornly refusing her. You liked her confidence too, her easy grace, you liked her inner strength too, but what you liked most of all was how comfortable she made you feel in her presence. Now that was a rare quality and you were grateful for it. Not that you had much time to think. Between Wanda and the boys, lunch came quickly and you found yourself easily mesmerised by the image of the redheaded woman, cooking in your kitchen in only a bathing suit and a pareo on top. She looked so homey and relaxed, smiling as she once again took charge, even if she was in fact in your house.

“Would you hand me the flower, dear?” You heard her say, pulling you from your trance-like state of admiration. “Sure.�� You said, biting your lip in hopes of covering how much you were actually looking. “And how is the salad coming along?” She asked, one hand on her hip, while the other was taking the bag of flower from you, a pointed look directing you at your cutting board with half a tomato waiting to still be sliced. She might have looked a little cross, had you not seen the playful smile on her lips. “Almost done.” You smiled back, directing your attention at the task at hand. Wanda only hummed, holding back any further remarks she might have had. She liked your eyes on her. She wanted your attention more than ever and she didn’t mind using some of her tricks to get it. She would touch you, casually placing a hand on your lower back, or your shoulder, she’d take small pieces of food from your cutting board, sometimes to take a bite, but sometimes to feed them to you. Her breath would hitch every time your lips touched the tips of her fingers and she practically saw flashes of your thoughts, as you pictured yourself sucking on those long, slender digits of hers, leaving her even more eager to fully have you. Having to behave herself was driving her crazy and she briefly considered just pulling you in for that kiss she’s been craving from the first moment she saw you today, but the sound of her sons, splashing each-other with water and laughing outside made her stop. She wanted to keep this between the two of you for a little while longer. When the meal was prepared, the four of you ate together, the conversation dominated by the boys. They were full of energy and eager to play, like every day, so they did their best to finish their meals quickly and you found them some games to enjoy, while you and Wanda continued to talk. She got more and more comfortable around your home, picking out a playlist of hers and singing along to the lyrics while the two of you cleaned up and you found yourself thinking that you liked it. You found it nice, to share your space with the family next door, to share your things and your days with them. You liked having Wanda sing in your kitchen with a spoon for a microphone. It was heart-warming. The boys however found it funny and soon, all four of you were holding ridiculous objects, singing along with the music that played. “I have to say, this is one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to.” You tell Wanda, as the two of you sit on the couch and watch Billy and Tommy perform one of their favorite children’s songs, one of them holding a glass, while the other had found one of your small decorative vases and held it up to his mouth as he sang. They were hilarious.

The redhead didn’t dare say otherwise, looking at her two boys with love and adoration in her eyes, although they sometimes darted towards you and she found herself beaming with joy that you were genuinely enjoying yourself. Of course, the two of you weren’t spared and had to perform and your jaw almost dropped, when Wanda picked an alternative rock song and proceeded to perform the guitar solo in the air for a minute straight, leaving you speechless. “That was… Unexpected.” You said as she sat beside you, while the boys were picking another song. “More unexpected than telling you I used to play on an acoustic guitar?” She asked with a raised brow. “You did?” You asked, your eyes growing bigger at the news. “I did.” You watched her nod in confirmation. “I would have never guessed.” You smiled, body turning more towards her. “Do you still have that guitar?” “No… Not anymore.” Wanda confessed, though it seemed that it didn’t bother her. “So I guess I shouldn’t ask to hear you play sometimes?” “Some things will just have to remain a mystery.” Wanda sighed dramatically and gave you a sly smile as she once again fixed her eyes on the boys. “Watch this. The dance is to die for!” Wanda whispered, as if sharing a secret. It turned out she was right. The dance really was funny and it set the tone for more games in the pool, all four of you jumping in the water. The rest of the day passed quickly like this, though this time Wanda made sure to pull you away from the kids from time to time and have your company just to herself. She loved it. She made sure to share the sunset with you, your eyes getting this dreamy quality as you looked up at the sky. “A sloop of amber slips away Upon an ether sea, And wrecks in peace a purple tar, The son of ecstasy.” You found yourself reciting, before you could stop the words from spilling out. A little embarrassed, you didn’t dare look at Wanda for a few moments, your cheeks tinted pink. “That was beautiful.” She said with a note of softness and awe in her voice. “Emily Dickinson.” You shrugged. “Her poetry is always beautiful.” “I think that you are beautiful.” Wanda found herself saying, a whispered, yet honest admission.

The compliment would have made you look away again, but you couldn’t this time. Wanda’s gaze was holding you in place, her eyes searching yours as she took your hand in hers, getting closer, until she was sitting right next to you. You could see the honesty written on her face, you could see a longing within her as she looked at your lips, you could practically feel the pull between the two of you as she shortened the distance between you and connected your lips. The kiss was sweet and full of gentleness and tender passion, and you found yourself responding eagerly, your body melting against her, as her other hand found purchase on your cheek, cupping it softly and refusing to let go, even when her lips pulled away.  “I wanted to do that since this morning.” Wanda found herself admitting, a small smile playing at her lips, when your blush only deepened. “I hoped you would.” You said, as you allowed her to get closer to you again. You hoped for another kiss, you hoped you would taste her again, even if just for a moment, but the sound of Billy and Tommy running outside, their laughter and playful teasing, as they chased each-other around the pool signalled you both to pull away and the redhead gave you one last apologetic look, before she look your hand in hers and led you towards where the children played. “What have I said, boys? No running! Go inside and wash your hands. We’ll have dinner on the table soon.” She instructed, confidence pouring from every word as the two of you moved towards them. “OK.” They agreed defeatedly, dragging their feet a little as they made their way inside. “Sorry for the interruption.” She gave a nervous laugh. “But I do hope that you’ll let me make it up to you.” She whispered in a sultry tone, once again getting closer, her hand wrapping around your waist, until you were flush against her. “I like the sound of that.” You smiled, your arms wrapping around her neck as you looked at her. Wanda didn’t wait for a second invitation, the last of her patience shattering at the feeling of your barely clothed body right against hers. She could feel your warm skin against her, smell the sun lotion and chloride, she could sense the anticipation within you as she held you and she needed to kiss you again, or she was going to explode. This time, she didn’t hesitate to take control of the kiss, deepening it quickly and letting out a soft little moan, when she felt your tongue glide across hers. You were so responsive to her, letting her in and giving her full control, allowing yourself to give in to this moment completely, to savour everything she offered, until you were both breathless and panting against each-other. “I want a proper date.” Wanda said, her eyes never leaving yours. “I want you all to myself.” Her hands wouldn’t let go of you either, fingers itching to roam freely across your skin. “We should arrange that.” You agreed, your face inching closer to her again, in hopes of receiving another kiss from her. “Hopefully soon.” Wanda insisted, before shortening the distance between the two of you once more. The kiss was brief, but full and the two of you pulled away breathless. Wanda’s hooded eyes were even more mesmerising than usual, her features soft and almost blissful. She held you in her arms a little longer, content to just look at you, a slender hand reaching up to stroke your face. “So beautiful.” She whispered, a gentle, genuine smile taking over her features.

The pink that spread across your cheeks at her words gave her a boost of confidence and Wanda tucked your hair behind your ear, almost leaning once again, when the sounds from inside the house signalled you both that the two boys were getting impatient and she reluctantly pulled away from you, taking your hand in hers, and leading the way inside. “I really mean what I said about arranging a date.” Wanda looked back as she made her way through the door. “I’d be happy to.” You nodded, but before the two of you could actually set a plan, the boys were all over you both and you knew that it would have to wait until after dinner. Wanda wasn’t surprised that the boys were exhausted fairly quickly after your meal. They had skipped their afternoon nap and played all day, so when they started rubbing their eyes tiredly, she slowly started to get them ready to leave, despite their many protests. “Let me put them to bed and I’ll come by to help you clean up?” Wanda asked at the door. She was hoping to get you alone for a little bit, even if it was just to talk. “You don’t have to. I probably won’t stay up long either, I have work early tomorrow.” “Well, I’ll try to swing by and help.” Wanda insisted. She knew that you were refusing her offer for help out of politeness. Something you did often. Which is why, she had decided that she’d listen to your thoughts, not your words. As soon as you exchanged your goodbyes and you watched Wanda herd Billy and Tommy into her house, you quickly started to put everything in order, filling the dishwasher and starting a program, throwing your bathing suit and towels into the washing machine, setting everything to its rightful place and straightening the house. By the time Wanda came back and rang the doorbell you were done. “Hey!” She greeted with a kind smile. “I hope I didn’t take too long.” “No, you’re just in time. I was thinking of opening a nice bottle of wine. White or red?” You offered smoothly. “You finished already?” She asked a little surprised. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.” “Don’t worry about it. You can make it up to me, by keeping me company.” You shrugged, taking down two wine glasses from the shelf. “Well, in that case, it’s you who should pick the wine.” She said, joining you in the kitchen. “White it is.” You smiled, pulling out a bottle from the fridge. Once you poured and handed Wanda her glass, the two of you sat together on the couch, sipping slowly and sharing a nice conversation. You could feel the energy between the two of you, the tension, that wave of desire that washed over you as you watched her lick her lips, or casually compliment you. She was smooth, seductive and effortlessly beautiful and you couldn’t help but admire her.

“I like it when you look at me like that, pretty girl.” Wanda remarked, leaving her glass of wine on the table and sitting herself closer to you. “Makes me wonder what you’re thinking of…” She said as played with your hair. You followed her lead, leaving your glass and focusing your attention entirely on her. “I’m thinking of you. And how beautiful you are.” You said honestly. “It’s the first thing I thought when I met you, actually.” You admitted a little shyly. Wanda smiled, soft and sweet, while she remembered that moment. How she stood at your door, apple pie in hand and how the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw her was that she is beautiful. “You’re such a sweet girl.” She found herself whispering, her body moving forward slowly. She cupped your cheek in her hand, feeling the softness of your skin and the way your breath hitched, she could sense the anticipation within you, a sort of longing for her to kiss you again and she couldn’t help but oblige your unspoken request. When your lips connected, Wanda did her best to take things slow, to just let herself enjoy this moment of intimacy that you shared. She tried to keep the thoughts of your fantasies at bay, to keep her own ideas at the back of her mind, so they wouldn’t take hold of her and make her act too quickly. When it was time for her to take you, she wanted you to be desperate for her, wanted you to be so needy, she wanted you to crave her so utterly, that you wouldn’t be able to stand another moment without her touch. When the time came, she wanted you eager and yearning for her. And God, you were making it so hard for her to hold back. You were so pliable, so eager in her hands, your body leaning backwards, until your back hit the couch cushions and you took her down with you, letting her lay on top of you, as she kissed your lips. She could taste the wine you had just been sipping, rich and delicious, just like you and she loved it. It didn’t take long for Wanda to deepen the kiss, manoeuvring your leg around her waist, just like she had done yesterday at her house, settling between your legs and letting her hands explore you. She felt so good, carefree and full of desire, full of hope for you and her and she loved it. She wanted to hold on to it, as much as she could, letting the minutes pass in nothing but kisses. She could hear your gentle moans and pants, feel your hands hold on to her back, or scratch at her shoulders, nimble fingers playing with her hair and teasing the hem of her shirt. By the time she pulled away, panting, you were an absolute masterpiece. Your lips swollen and wet from her kisses, your eyes hooded and full of desire, your breasts rising and falling in heavy breaths as you looked up at her. Fuck, she loved it. She could picture it already, how beautiful you would look while she ruined you, how cute you would look, all cuddled up, between her sheets, how good it would feel, once she has her arms wrapped around you, while you sleep peacefully. Yes, she could picture it all perfectly. You were the one.

Which is why, she needed to take it slowly. Needed to give you some more time, to really adjust to the thought of you and Wanda. She knew that thought used to scare you, used to make you feel uneasy and she didn’t want such a thing to stand between you. She wanted you to be sure that you want her, when she takes the next step. She also needed to know why, needed to understand you a little better. And for that you needed time. “You’re so gorgeous like this.” She commented as she still hovered above you, watching your cheeks turn pink once more. “Thank you. So are you.” You said softly. “I should probably head back home.” Wanda continued, studying your face and seeing a flash of hurt and self-doubt pass through your eyes. “I hope you know I want to stay.” She added quickly, hoping to reassure you. “I just want to move things slow.” She admitted. “I want to do this the right way.” She added. “Take you out and show you how serious I am about this.” “I think that’s one of the nicest things anyone has done for me.” You said, suddenly surprising the woman with such words. “No one else told you that you’re worth the wait, baby?” She asked, watching you shake your head. “Well, you are.” Wanda said with conviction in her eyes, finally getting up from her position on top of you and offering you her hand, so you could sit up. “Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” You whispered, feeling vulnerable and exposed under her gaze. To your surprise, the other woman pulled you towards her, hugging you tightly and holding you against her chest, her arms wrapping around you securely. She ran her fingers through your hair soothingly, listening to the thoughts that passed within you. Past hurts, disappointments, regrets, all the people who wanted you for nothing but your body, all the people, who didn’t think you were worth the effort. She could see them all. And she wanted to erase every trace of them and show you how much better she could treat you. She felt the inner struggle too, the way you fought to push those memories aside and look at Wanda with eyes, unburdened by the past. You want to give her the chance she deserved and it melted her heart. You had so much strength, so much determination, to push all that aside and remain strong, to not show her, how much something so simple had affected you. “I’m really happy that I got to spend today with you.” She said, when you managed to pull away from her embrace. “I really loved it.” “So did I. It’s always a pleasure to see you and the boys.” You nodded, smiling at her. God, she really liked that smile. “I hope to see more of you.” She added. “Hopefully soon.” “Of course.” You nodded. “Well, all right, I’ll leave you for now.” She said, seemingly more to herself, as if she had to talk herself into leaving, before she stood from the couch, once again offering you her hand and helping you up. “Good night, Y/N.” She spoke in soft tone, pulling you closer to her again. “Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled as you once again landed in her arms. “Will you let me kiss you again?” The redheaded woman asked tentatively, the only betrayal of insecurity you had seen all day. Instead of an answer, it was you who shortened the distance this time, claiming her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You rose to your tip-toes, arms wrapping around her neck gingerly as hers circled your waist once again and she held you tightly to herself, unable to let go for a long moment, even after the kiss finally broke. “Sweet dreams, Wanda.” You said with a smile, showing Wanda to the door. “They certainly will be, after that kiss.” She said as she stepped outside. “They certainly will be.”