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forthevillains · 1 month

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Albert Wesker headcanons

[these will be purely my opinion on what he does and how he is in and outside of relationship. Also let me know if I should write NSFW headcanons too!]

~ Albert is not a very open person so it’s difficult to get to him in the first place. It’s not like he lacks emotions, but as he can get easily attached, he prefers to only interact with people he must and that stays professional

~ though if you managed to get through that tough facade of his, you’ve earned yourself a loyal ally, a partner, a friend. People always make him seem bad, but gladly you didn’t care and wanted to find out for yourself, determined to find out as much as you could about this mysterious guy. And Wesker really appreciates it, even though someone being so interested in him feels odd

~ he is still distant at the beginning of the relationship, but it slowly develops into something warm and intimate. You have to give the poor man time, he hasn’t been in a proper relationship in ages if ever at all

~ the definition of you fell first, he fell harder

~ also he’s an active pet name user, so it’s very rare for him to call you by your actual name, though the more he falls for you, the more common it is for him to actually do that. Definitely adds ‘my’ before he says any pet name when he’s talking to you, just to make it known that you are special

~ he very much prefers women younger than him for a mere reason of spending as much time with you as possible. He doesn’t age like a normal person and he needs someone who would meet him at the very end so that you could leave this world together. He also wouldn’t want you to stay behind, however if you were actually his age, he would surely take care of you and make sure you still feel beautiful despite getting old

~ with the relationship come the secrets that he was able to hide from you before you got together. It’s safe to say that this man is not really a green flag due to the scars his trauma left on him. He’s not good for you and even though he wouldn’t admit it, he’s aware (somewhere deep down)

~ Albert insisted that you two live together, he needs you by his side and even when it might come off as if he’s trying to just be controlling - he’s just very scared of either you running away or someone hurting you while he’s not there to protect you

~ when it comes to sleeping by his side, for the first few months he just sleeps on his side of the bed, leaving you enough space only until he’s deep asleep. Then he’ll subconsciously wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close and making a personal teddy bear out of you. He’s touch starved after all the years alone, so much that even if he tries to give you enough space, his body won’t let him do so. You better not tell him though, because he’d feel embarrassed. Just wait for him to do it consciously and enjoy it;)

~ he’s often busy meaning you’ll have to find a hobbies of your own inside the house

~ he’s very keen on taking care of you in his free time, especially your hair. It’s kind of a therapy to him, not just playing with it, but also washing or braiding, even dying it. He’s up to do all of that for you

~ when there’s something going on with him, he probably just leaves, so that he doesn’t bother you with his problems, but if you come to him, offering your love and affection, he’s up for it. He will gladly lay on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist, closing his tired eyes. Might as well fall asleep in that position because the exhaustion would get to him

~ if you worked in Umbrella with him, then you’re aware of his plans for the future, though if you haven’t, he’s gonna keep you unaware for the rest of your life, feeding you with delusions he came up with. But don’t you worry, it won’t affect your relationship at all, he’s gonna make up for all the lies;)

~ he wouldn’t dare cry in front of you, if he ever cried at all. He’s not the type of person who would go cry to the corner, he usually overcomes the sadness with anger, so good luck calming him down

~ Wesker is actually a really good cook! He doesn’t have much time for it, of course, but when he does, he makes you delicious meals (he really likes to spoil you)

~ speaking of spoiling… His favorite thing to buy you is lingerie, without a doubt. It’s just a bad habit of his, whenever he sees something you’d look good in (which is everything in his eyes), he just has to buy it for you and then watch you try it on knowing that it’s going to end up torn apart in less than a week. He tries not to do so, but he’s so eager to have you at times he just rips your clothes off:( so he buys new new ones quite often

~ he often comes home too late, finding you asleep on the couch as you were waiting for him for too long. His heart aches at the thought of someone being so excited just to see him, of someone actually caring about him and loving him as he knows how much of a risk he’s putting you in just by being with you. He would come up to you, gently taking you in his arms and carrying you to bed. He wouldn’t join you anytime soon, but he’d definitely stop by just to look at your peaceful, sleeping form, wondering just why on earth did you choose him

~ loves it when you sit on his lap while he’s working or even while he’s just reading a book. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, while he holds a pen/documents/book in the other. Your presence is very important to him, he loves touching you, feeling you. He needs you and having you so close brings him enough comfort to let loose (and if you’d look up at him you’d probably see a tiny smile on his face)

~ absolutely loves listening to you. Even when he’s exhausted after a very bad day, he’ll pull you close to him, asking you how your day went and just lets you talk, only reassuring you that he’s still listening whenever you stop. Your voice is comforting to him and it’s his way of relaxation, to just be close to you and listen

~ underrated opinion, but in my eyes he’d hate smoking. It’s basically killing you, so why would you do that? If you’re a smoker, he’ll ask you to stop, but won’t do anything against it if you tolerate that he doesn’t want you to do it inside the house. He’s still annoyed whenever you light up a cig though

~ he likes it when you take his sunglasses and try them on. It always gets him to smile for some unknown reason as he watches you giggle, happy that you have a thing of his in your possession, even if for just a few minutes

~ secretly, his dream is to settle down and live a life he never got to have. He’s just a broken man after all and having you gave him a different view on life. Of course, he still wants to save the world (in his own ways), but he also wishes he got to have a peaceful life by your side, seeing you smile everyday, traveling across the world if you’d like to. He wished he could be the perfect man just for you

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you #oneshot #headcanon #resident evil headcanons #x reader

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olderthannetfic · 5 months

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Can I poke the bear for a moment and get angry? Because I'm seeing "posting as activism" more and more in fandom spaces, and tonight I saw a post that made me lose it.

There is a post about (current events) going around that says, "full offense, but in this time, your own comfort doesn't fucking matter, you should be uncomfortable about things that are happening, and I hope you can fucking live with yourselves if you are quiet. It takes five seconds to retweet or reblog, fuck your aesthetic, fuck your anything aesthetic."

And my god. How dare they.

Yes, there is severely fucked up shit happening. Yes, people should be aware that people are being killed. Yes, there are people who are just shrugging about it and pissing off. But how does reblogging a post certify someone as Good or Bad? How does this person know that someone hasn't already helped out meaningfully in some way, or is still helping out, but on other websites? How does this person know that someone isn't barely holding on by the skin of their teeth, and they would have a mental breakdown if they got closer to any more stressful things?

I know a multitude of people, including myself, who have recently either needed to call lines, check into facilities, move back in with their parents, or go on medication because of how insane things have become in their own lives. How does this person not understand that blogging; being on tumblr; engaging in fandom, having a small space that someone can control in its entirety, is a reprieve for people who are already at their wit's end outside of that space? And that's okay.

(We are not doing the relative privation shit in this house. I refuse to entertain that.)

Ironically, by insisting that people participate in sharing posts when they're already stressed and exhausted, that's a surefire way to make their problems worse, and potentially prevent them from acting helpfully in the future because suddenly, their exhaustion turns into full-blown burnout. That's how it works. Professionals tell you to dial things back if you are too overwhelmed. There is a reason for that. There is a limit to how much people can mentally process and handle. Compassion fatigue exists. For a lot of us, we are already at our limit. We need space to relax, and not have arbitrary obligations thrown on us. That is not our fault, it is not a character flaw, it does not mean we are bad people. And just because horrific things are happening elsewhere, it does not mean we can, or should, stop taking care of ourselves first. Yes, it feels shitty to think, "you know what, I can't reblog this". You bet your ass that I and my friends feel guilty about not being able to engage as much as we think we should, but that is how it goes. I can put my head underwater for a bit. But I cannot keep my head underwater forever. I will drown.

Not to mention the obvious part: guilt-tripping people to the extent of implying they are somehow contributing to genocide, just because they won't reblog a post, and implying they should not be able to live with themselves if they do that, is beyond revolting.

I am angry, and I am not sorry.

So many of those kinds of posts—and they turn up during every set of horrific real world events—sound like people who are in a country far away from the events, diaspora at most but probably just randos, venting their impotent rage because it's the only way they can feel productive in a situation where nothing they can do is productive.

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k-dokja · 9 months

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IT’S NO BIG DEAL — It's a little Big Deal actually.

Summary: You should meet his new friends... all two of them.

"What the hell is this?"

Arguably, he doesn't know if you'd look scarier or less scary without the huge knife you're waving. He has seen you beating people, some of them go out cold with only a kick to the face.

"Not only you went out and got caught up in gang fights, but you also brought back your unruly cohorts to my kitchen? Do you have no fear of death?"

Brad whispers next to him, "She called us unruly cohorts."

"She was raised well," Jake whispers back, "her vocabulary is more developed than us."

"I'm more terrified of the fact that she got us on our knees immediately," Jason hushes back at them, "Who is this girl? Why have you brought us to our deaths?"

Jake throws him a glance with a small smirk on his lips, "She's my future wife. Be nice to her, she'll be your future boss lady."

Jason opens his mouth but snaps it shut when you speak up. "Will you three stop whispering among each other and answer me already?"

With a pacifying smile, Jake raises his hand and gives you an imploring look. "We were hanging out after school and I mentioned to them how I often helped you cook. Hence..."

"Hence you brought them here to freeload?" You raise the knife and Jake flinches back. He knows he's in no real danger, but on some base levels of instinct, his mind's screaming at him to cower and run.

"When you put it like that, it sounds bad," his grin is strained, and he feels cold sweat running down his neck, "you mentioned wanting to test new recipes and I brought you new test subjects, that's all."

Immediately, Jason whips his head to stare at him. "That sounds even worse!"

Jake only grins further, like he didn't throw his friends under the bus a moment earlier. At least, you no longer look mad. You're mulling over his suggestion even, that look on your face when you contemplate is adorable.

Then you glare at him again, "Fine, but you better pull your weight," you say, "I'm not feeding you lots for free."

Brad and Jason are both staring at him now, but he ignores their wide eyes and gets back up on his feet. "As you command, my lady," Jake nods at his friends to follow his lead. After some reluctance, they follow.

You are quick with your delegation around the kitchen, he guesses that comes from your experience commanding him. He doesn't mind, making it go smoother without any unnecessary bickering. After listening to your precise instructions, Jason begins to dice the vegetables while Brad works to season the meat.

Jake has the easier task of helping you knead some dough. "What are we making?" He asks midway through his task, vaguely realizing he doesn't know what he's working on.

"I was going to make pot roast but since your friends probably want to eat sooner, I'm going to make roasted beef with vegetables," you say, "I'm reheating the stew I made yesterday and the rice only needs to be fried, I'll make tuna salad later. That should be quick to prepare."

He snorts. Even with your earlier scolding, you are making enough food to feed the three of them anyway. "Then what are these dough for?"

You throw him a perfunctory glance, "What else? Desserts."

Jake snickers but says nothing in response. Maybe he should have because his silence only leaves space for Jason to butt in. “So, how long have you two been dating?”

He can hear the record scratching in your head. From your expression alone, he knows your head must’ve blanked the moment you heard the question. Unlike you, Jake has no problem with the question. He could’ve taken the initiative to answer it, but he didn’t. Selfishly, he wants to hear the answer from you, even if it’s a denial.

“We aren’t dating,” you frown, “what gives you that impression?”

Jason fumbles, “Well, Jake said—”

Jake coughs loudly, cutting in. “It’s easy to misunderstand, the two of us often spend time with each other,” he hopes his explanation would temper any unfortunate outcome for him, “others can get the wrong idea.”

“Really?” You ask, nonplussed. Somehow, he’s disappointed by your quick recovery from the shock of the situation. “Guess that makes sense.”

Jake, on another hand, turns to Jason and pantomimes zipping his lips shut. He puts on a pleasant smile when you turn back with the pot of stew in your hands, his face is the picture of innocence. In his peripheral vision, he notices Brad clasping his hands in prayers. For who, he can't tell.

Thankfully, you notice none of that and what remains of the cooking session goes on without another noticeable hitch.

There are two things Jake predicted when he brought Jason and Brad over to your place. One of them is that they will see you and fall in love within three seconds because if that happened to him, then no reason why they should be infallible to your wily charm. The second thing is more plausible and amusing all the same, all it takes is for them to eat one bite of your cooking and they'd be heads over heels for you too.

He wouldn't blame them if they never want to leave afterwards. You're simply that irresistible.

Since the previous outcome didn't happen due to your unbridled rage, Jake has a pleased smile on his lips when the boys change their entire demeanour the moment they begin to eat. It's like watching someone actualizing their enlightenment in real-time. Fascinating and wild in equal measure, he can't say he doesn't enjoy watching it.

"So?" Jake asks the question you want to ask but is too polite to mention. You focus on your food, but he knows you're listening because there's a small smile on your lips when Jason answers.

"Holy shit," Jason gawks at him, "you get to eat like this every day?"

Jake grins, "Only when she feels generous enough to grace me with her blessing."

You stick your tongue out at him but the smile on your face when you look back down at your food tells him all. It has been a nice idea bringing Brad and Jason over, even if he did spring it on you out of nowhere.

He could've spent the remainder of the meal watching you, but he knows there are far more productive things he can do. Jake turns to Brad, who has been silent the whole time. Getting his opinion would be a good idea, too. Even if—

"Hey! Eat faster! Brad is eating everything!"

By the end of the meal, Jason and Brad have volunteered for dishes and cleaning duty. You sit at the dining table to monitor them, if only because you don't want anything to happen to your family's chinas. Jake takes the chance to sit back, too. He would love to lend a helping hand, but three would be a crowd.

Besides, he enjoys the chance to talk with you without the interlopers.

"You don't mind?"

He nods at his new friends milling around the kitchen. It'd be a moment before you give him your answer, but the wait is worth it because he's warm all over now. "Not really," you say, "I'd have preferred you giving me a head up so I can prepare better but... it's nice to see you hanging out with friends. You've been hanging out alone for so long."

Jake snorts, "I wasn't hanging out alone, I had you."

"I can't be your only friend, Jake," you chuckle, "'sides, we don't even go to the same school or study in the same grade, it's nice to see you having friends who have more in common with you."

"You and I have plenty in common," he says, "like... we live in the same neighbourhood."

You roll your eyes but your smile is affectionate when you look at him, "Yeah, and once you moved away after you finished school, we'll no longer be friends?"

"You make it sound bad," he laughs softly, "I won't let that happen."

"Mhm, whatever," you hum. "They seem nice, I hope the three of you will stay friends for long. It's better to have many people watching your back since you get into trouble all the time."

He can't help but grin, "Do I seem that unruly in your eyes?"

You arch an eyebrow at him, "Do you want to hear the truth? It will hurt your feeling."

"Please spare me then, my fair lady," he pleads mockingly, "I can only take so much of your cruelty."

Caught in the little bubble he has made with you, Jake fails to overhear the conversation his new friends are making behind his back. All the better because if either of you heard it, he wouldn't know how to play it off without lying.

"...He's whipped."

"He's definitely whipped."

#jake kim #jake kim x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

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Is there a chance you can make the yan! dorm leaders (mostly Leona and Malleus) react to their darling who acts like Jinx from Arcane? if you don't know Arcane you can ignore this.

Jinx Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You are erratic, you’re creative, you’re always building something, and you always seem to be armed. Hanging from rafters or gargoyles, you fit right in with the colorful characters of Night Raven College. So it's no surprise that so many are enraptured by you. If they can survive you that is they’ll make sure no one else around you does:

Malleus Draconia

“You never cease to amaze me child of man!”

If you are not found conducting major renovations on Ramshackle, your spray paint your tag on different gargoyles of Night Raven

At first, he may not be too fond of this

but when he finally gets to meet you

He’s happy there’s a piece of you on the things he loves

He’s aware you're a bit of an outcast but it only means he gets more of your attention

Like with Silko, you establish intimacy without acknowledgment for personal space and he’s all about it

RIP to Sebek should he have anything to say

Luckily for Sebek, you’d sooner point a gun and threaten him than wait for Malleus to exact his own punishment

You scare most people away anyway

So whenever you have doubts or insecurities they come to him

Malleus is sure to filter out anything that he doesn’t like

“Of course, your toys are appreciated by the student body. No one has died and the screams of joy echo throughout the entire college. Fear not, my love.”

His and your sense of fun and ‘what's okay’ is really skewed

It's so bad Lillia needs to be a father figure the both of you

But since Malleus is so….Malleus, he doesn’t always decide to listen to him

So it's quite possible you two will decide to bring wonderland to an end for funsies

“I’ve always wanted to give the world a taste of me!”

“And they will have it, my Love. Since I will it, your creations will be on everyone’s minds!”

Leona Kingscholar

“You’re such a wreck. I couldn’t call you an herbivore even if I tried.”

He’s mostly amused by your just bizarre nature

You probably first met because you jumped and continued to snuggle him

He’s also enamored with the way you so easily point your guns at the bigger guys in Savvannaclaw

From then on no one's going to question you

In fact, you're so unhinged the Savannaclaw students group around you like they do with Leona

And he couldn’t be happier

It's like you're the perfect accessory to his crimes

In the future, any scheme is proposed by you

Because your like “If you want it I’ll get it for you”

He’s the one who has to reel you in

He starts having a problem though when people want to take you down a notch

Whether they trash your workshop or severely damage something big you’ve been working on

“T-they-! R-ruined it! It’s all destroyed!”

“I’m right here. I’m right here. You know me, I won’t let them get away with this.”

And he won’t

while you’re curled up in the fetal position on his bed, he’s hunting down the poor fools who are going to be paralyzed by the time he’s done

“Y-you beat them up for me?”

“You’re my mate. It’s only natural I avenge you. Now stop crying and sleep.”

“Okay!”

Vil Schoenheit

“If only you put as much work into your inventions as you did your reputation.”

He can deal with radical personalities

He works with Rook every day after all

But unlike his vice warden who is adamant about maintaining beauty

you care more to build an invention that's going to ruin everyone else’s beauty

But he loves you still

Even when you have a hard time sitting still while he’s doing your makeup he loves you obsessively

“Darling, you left one of your gadgets in my suitcase!”

“Toss it this way!”

“I’m not. I know what your clicker toys do and I have a shoot today.”

He gains an uncanny knowledge of what all of your inventions do

And he gets just as good at dodging anything you throw at him

But of course, he’s not the only one under fire

Some fans eventually do find you despite your reclusive nature

And it's easy for them to threaten you indirectly through your inventive space

Vil will take control as he usually does

He’ll happily create an untraceable potion and invite the aggressors over to tea

And even when he makes them apologize he’s not giving them the real antidote

People from the outside will say he acts like your parent

But he likes taking care of you

In fact, if you start trying to move on your own

He tugs you back by your heartstrings

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you trust me, darling?!”

“Of course I do Vil! I just wanted to help pay the bills you know?”

“But Darling don’t you know I already pay for everything? Even all your inventions? Let’s not change that now, okay?”

Idia Shroud

“Oh? A fellow builder, huh? Maybe we can...have a bit of a wager. I’d love to see how you fare against me!”

You and him are two peas in a pod

Both of you are something of mad scientists

So you two are always inventing with one another

Normally in demented competition you both love to test your newest inventions with another

“Ah~(Y/n)-shi let’s make a bet!”

“First one to blow up is the winner?”

“And the loser has to be support?

“And the winner?”

“Hehe the winner…gets to make the loser reenact the actions from the R-18 doujin!”

“Awww poor ‘dia you’ll be so embarrassed when I have you reenact the maid scene!”

“Not as cute as you’ll be when I enact page 69.”

You two love wagers

It’s Idia’s favorite game

To bet with you is the best

He could ask for nothing more

So its only natural he uses his newest inventions to torment whoever he was hearing through the bug he placed on you

He still gets shy but he can’t help but smile when you turn your attention toward him

“Mine! The winner of this game is me! You’re all mine!”

Azul Ashengrotto

“You truly are an enigma, (Y/n). I insist you join Octavinelle for the next year.”

He’s used to dealing with someone who is heavily swayed by mood

And he always has uses for your newest inventions

And since he’s always keeping you busy theres less of a chance you realize how much he shelters you

“Since you so willingly took up all of our commissions the least I could do was offer you this space.”

“Wow it has all the stuff I like in here! It looks so much like my room! How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess? I also made sure that I’d deliver your favorite meals at the correct hours of the day.”

“Yay!”

He’s merciless against those who seek to cut him out

And he does whatever he has to to make sure they suffer for the crime of gaining your favor

he blushes when you're comfortable enough to sit on his lap

he loves it all the more

And he promises to keep this as his special payment

All within the contract, you so easily signed

He’s completely within his rights to do so

“As per our agreement, you can only build for me or concede and become mine.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“You have no rules or reason! Someone needs to whip you into shape and that will be me!”

He thinks your crazy

Which obviously means he has to take control

Forget about your love for explosives

And forget about your habits with guns

“You’re royalty show some decorum!”

“Decorum? Forget that I’d rather be poor then!”

“Not possible. I won’t allow it.”

“Oh yeah? Than what do you say to my lovely Pow-Pow?”

“I say: “Off with your head!”

He’s intent on “fixing you” or at least encouraging a ‘better you’

And it's all because he’s grateful

When he was so used to keeping within the lines his mother had placed for him

You made him happy with that spontaneity you just seemed to have

Now it was his turn

His turn to bring the order that you needed

You needed him

not anyone else

He’d sooner let your old habits return than let some plebian steal you away

“Fine I will let you use one of your…toys but I have a target for you. And if you do that successfully I can allow some lee way in your desserts.”

Kalim Al Asim

“Wow your exciting as always, (Y/n)!”

Leave it to you to be matched or even outdone by the prince’s optimism

He’s so enthusiastic about you

there's no reason you wouldn’t agree to date him

“I’m so excited! Now you can stay here forever with me!”

“Hehehe, Kalim I can’t wait either! Now I can show you all the cool gadgets I build and you can help me try them!”

“Yeah!”

Even with the more violent results, he’s still cheering you on

Something that surprises many

But should you try to expand your circle or become more adept at speaking to others

Something begins to snap

Slowly but surely the prince is making sure he’s your only close confidant

And at the end of the day, you’ll come to him for cuddles

Just as heplanned always wants

“Haha did you miss me today, (Y/n)? Because I missed you!”

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jonathan-samuel-smith · 4 months

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TW bipolar discussion and nonconsensual kissing, mental health discussion

So about Saturn Girl kissing Jon without his ability to consent to it: I get that she isn't actively deciding to mind control the people around her, but she does have a choice in the matter. Her family wanted her to stay home until she could control her mind control powers, but she didn't want to and left. To me that's like if I noticed I was manic (not hypomanic) and didn't go to the mental hospital... Like I can't control my bipolar but I have the choice to stay away from others when it would harm them. That's not even a good comparison though because my judgement isn't clear enough to consistently do that when I'm manic, whereas she is at baseline and is able to think rationally. I wouldn't blame someone with bipolar because they have no choice, but I'm just saying the obvious choice would be to keep yourself away from others even if it's not fun for you. I feel like I can blame her, because she has a choice.

I do sympathize with her, but I really think she's hurting others disproportionately to the distress she feels stuck at home, and that's not okay.

If you look back on the events with the knowledge that she can't turn off her mind control, you see how manipulative she is, especially to Jon, and she does high-control group tactics: love bombing, isolation, guilt tripping, not letting him have rest alone where he would have time to realize he didn't want this.

I don't like the JonDami narrative that Jon was an asshole for leaving Damian in the past or was running away from his problems, because in my view he was dragged into a cult and I can't blame him for that, especially because he was extremely vulnerable at the time. I also don't believe Jon would have left in the first place if he knew up front that he couldn't bring Damian to at least visit him.

Jon had been in a state of fight or flight for around 6 years (not just talking about the volcano because there was also his verbally abusive grandpa and their deadly adventures and being trapped in space, and then him struggling to survive on the streets and trying to find a way home after he escaped) and the first time he really got a chance to cool down was when he was talking with Damian. He really needs a long break, therapy, and medication because what he went through can't be treated with therapy alone as the stress has chemical effects in the brain that need to be adjusted.

The writers don't care about how Jon should be extremely hypervigilant and defensive and anxious. I guess that's just not brave enough for a superhero, nevermind that leaving the house and getting treatment for these things, learning to trust again, and letting people help you is so much braver than punching guys when you have superpowers. It's natural to fight when your fight or flight is activated in a protective manner, but doing the logical thing when every signal in your body is telling you not to is really damn hard. The only coward is DC for giving Jon trauma and not actually writing a traumatized character.

That all being said, Damian clearly doesn't see how Jon is being manipulated, probably because his head is full of self hatred & doubting & repressed desires to ask Jon to stay, and thinks he needs to go against his abandonment trauma by swinging the pendulum too far in the opposite direction in his speech. With his c-ptsd and abandonment issues I can see him becoming bitter towards Jon for going to the future.

That could make for a really complex fanfiction, don't you think? The conflict coming from their unique life experiences and traumas, and them learning to understand each other like they're always doing. This misunderstanding of intentions born not out of something dumb like hearing the wrong thing or being unclear in language, but from their different points of view.

My jondami au where Jon leaves the legion early is calling me lmao "Isaac we have more problems for you to fix~"

That being said I have no exclusivity to these ideas for writing.

#jondami #fanfic talk #headcanons #dc comics #legion of super heroes #damijon #angst #ok btw im ignorant of tone so i wanna clarify im not angry writing this lol #Jonathan Samuel Kent #jon kent #Jonathan Kent #character study

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 4 months

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Did someone say Kanej coded songs by indie artists who deserve more attention? Probably not but I’m gonna give you some anyway

I’m going to limit myself to putting one or two lyrics with each song but just know that I’m picking and choosing from loads of good options they aren’t the only lyrics that work 😁

Pray by The Amazing Devil - “God made all man in his image but honey I’m no man I’m what’s left when children go to war” “Why womanhood is more than crying I’m stronger now than you have ever known, the cracks you made I’ll fill with mortar a broken pot can still hold water”

Metaphor by The Crane Wives - “I’ve gotten good at leaning on metaphors, I’ve gotten good at living on someone else’s page, I cut my teeth on second hand sentiments, you can’t trust a single thing I say” “I keep my closet free of skeletons, ‘cause I’m much better at digging graves, but I always dig up bones in your sympathy, I can’t trust a single thing you say” (I actually have an edit to this that I haven’t posted yet so I guess let me know if anyone wants to see that)

Three Spectres by J Maya this song is the reason I started making edits - “I wonder how people can talk about the past and go to bed, the space around me feels with spectres of what I should have said. The past is a presence, the future is pretend, and the present is a pastor trying to make it all make sense. Will I ever leave this place? This world that I am trying to break? The mind is such a funny space, with these spectres centre stage”

Falling by Florence + the Machine I guess this is kinda borderline indie but I’m counting it and this is an underrated song - “I’ve fallen from favour and I’ve fallen from grace, fallen out of trees and I’ve fallen on my face, fallen out taxis, out of windows too, fell in your opinion when I fell in love with you” “sometimes I wish for falling, wish for the release, wish for falling through the air to give me some relief because falling’s not the problem when I’m falling I’m at peace, it’s only when I hit the ground it causes all the grief” the edits could’ve gone wild for this one if we had the tightrope scenes with Amita/Inej I’m so heartbroken

We Have It All by Pim Stones I have an edit to this one posted if anyone wants to see it - “the print was so small I didn’t understand, he cut out thumbs and placed a feather in our hands, told us we would see all our dreams and plans unfold” “all my life I’ve been heading for hell but never had I thought I’d drag you down as well, I just couldn’t resist what he was trying to sell” “our hearts we have sold for diamonds and gold but hey baby take a look, we have it all, and haven’t you heard? Hearts turn to dirt, along with the rest of your body it’s all claimed by the earth. It will fade and it will wither, but gold it will never, and hey baby, don’t you know? Diamonds are forever”

Run by Daughter - “if I try to get close, he’s already gone, don’t know where he’s going don’t know where he’s been but he is restless at night ‘cause he has horrible dreams” “and I won’t tell my mother, it’s better she don’t know, and he won’t tell his folks ‘cause they’re already ghosts. And we’ll just keep each other, as safe as we can, until we reach the border, until we make our plan to run” “Will you stay with me my love, for another day? ‘Cause I don’t want to be alone when I’m on this state. Will you stay with me my love, til we’re old and grey? ‘Cause I don’t want to be alone when these bones decay”

I might add more as they occur to me but I think this is the list for now, feel free to suggest more!!! ❤️

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fandomfluffandfuck · 1 year

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Okay, I admit defeat, I cannot keep myself from writing a little something based on this post from @howdoyousleep3

You gotta read the original post, but, essentially... trust fund baby Buck hiring a Daddy because he wants to be taken care of 🥺

For visuals:

This Bucky

gifs by @/fucklinski

With this Steve

Something about this AU just gives me sweater-wearing Daddy, okay?

Aaaand this got out of hand (as every "short" drabble I try to write does) so:

Warning for hurt/comfort, slight homophobia, drugs/alcohol use (drugs are all in the background though), explicit sexual content, semi-public play, daddy kink, fisting 👀, dirty talk, feminization, breath play, etc., etc.

Anyway, this is like fucking 5k words oops...

Hey, Alexa? Play “Life Of The Party” by The Weeknd then "National Anthem" by Lana Del Ray

Trust fund baby Buck spends all of his time at clubs, parties, events, and any sort of socializing event that is required for someone of his status--of his family's status.

All in all, though, he genuinely loves people. He loves the over-the-top parties, he enjoys the decadence of expensive drinks--most of them alcoholic ever since the second he turned 18 (because it's the European thing to do)--and he flourishes in these spaces. The attention. The social butterfly-ness of it all

…Usually.

Usually he loves it all.

Yet, as he’s grown into his own adult person a little more he’s begun to realize one thing; it’s not as lovely and shiny as it used to feel.

Bucky knows, in part, it’s because he’s simply not a child any longer.

But he also knows it’s because he’s gay. And because he’s lonely. Yes, he’s lonely in part because he’s gay and old money leans more… well, it isn’t called the Grand Old Party for no reason, so, yeah, he’s a little lonely because even within the group of trust fund babies his age, they’re lagging behind pop culture. They’re not, like, spitting on him or swearing at him out of homophobia. And good ol’ pops isn’t disowning him or denying him of their fortune, but… no one has ever asked him if he’s seen any cute boys. No one asked him--when he came out--if he’d even kissed a boy yet. No one asked him about his crushes. No one suggests, oh, look at that dashing (equally rich and) young man, you should go talk to him--you could marry him! Bucky gets nothing of the sort. His sexuality is ignored. The best he got upon coming out was a tight-lipped smile and a nod.

More and more Bucky yearns for community.

Also, Bucky’s lonely because he can’t exactly see a future here. How’s he supposed to find a partner like he wants if everyone is lowkey(?) homophobic?

Also ×2, he’s lonely despite the excess of this lifestyle because… he’s probably always been lonely. Not to blame his parents for all of his problems, but, when your parents are too rich, too busy, and too good to raise their own child--always handing them off to the help with a poorly disguised face of disgust for a child that is simply crying and drooly and snotty because, well, it’s a child--that does something to said child.

No matter how lovely the help is, no matter how bonded he felt to the help, they cannot replace parents you can’t reach. And parents you can’t ever reach, you can't impress, and you can't please since they’ve had everything they could wish for from the time they were young is also problematic for a growing human. At least Bucky was always good at socializing. That (sometimes) seems to please his parents. And it's been very beneficial to Bucky over the years.

Ever since Bucky was able to talk, he’s bounced around any event he was taken to, conversing with everyone and, without even meaning to, ending up with a string of girls behind him. His mother says it’s his smile and his eyes--what girls won’t do for a boy with blue eyes and dimples! His father says it’s his conversation and thanks himself for it, patting Bucky on the shoulder as he roughly and proudly guffaws, “just like his father! Can talk his way out of anything! Could sell a breathing man air!”

Any interest in the people he strung along, without meaning to, faded fast. Every time.

So, he’s lonely.

He's craving companionship.

And since Bucky came out when he was 17, he has been looking for a partner. He’s gotten lucky here and there with hook-ups (most fueled by too much champagne, some drugs he'd rather not admit to having taken, or charged by the fact they were sneaking away to do it somewhere they DEFINITELY weren't supposed to), one-off dates (all his dates comprised of people he met at galas or whatever and always the same social class, never lower), and even a couple handful of months-long relationships (done mostly for show even if Bucky did like them… he really wanted to show everyone he was capable of settling down!).

But by this point, this many tries deep, none of them have been The One and, hell, none of them have even been that good.

Bucky's just tired of prancing around searching blindly for what he wants when he damn well knows what he wants--what he wishes for, eyes shut, sliding down the inside of the door to his brownstone, sighing, day-dreaming and what he craves when he curls up in his massive bed, alone, surrounded by an ocean of sheets with too many pillow islands, eyes shut, beginning to breathe heavily, waking up certain parts of himself… hands wandering down his own body… night-dreaming 👀

He knows what he wants. It's so hard to find though.

And he’s about to throw in the towel (yes, he’s aware he’s still in his early- to mid-20s, and yes, he’s that dramatic) when…

He goes to a bar after another event.

He just needs to be around “normal” people, feeling especially tired that night of lofty, wealthy people. (He’s also a little sick of himself since he knows he isn’t always that much better when it comes down to it)

And at this bar, he sees Steve--he sees this man at the other end of the bar. The man is larger than life, sitting on a bar stool at the counter, the other end of the bar from where Bucky sits, with broad shoulders swathed in a thick, dark sweater and big hands wrapped around a glass. As he lifts the glass to drink, he chats with the bartender.

This stranger is older with handsome crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and grays beginning to come into his beard as well as spreading back through his hair from his temples.

The man laughs at something the bartender says after swallowing, big and loud and full of obvious enjoyment. It sounds good.

Bucky almost wants to shoo the bartender back over to the mystery man when she comes to refill his sugary cocktail later. He would much rather she make him laugh again.

But, instead…

Bucky buys him a drink, tipping her exorbitantly yet again to make sure it’s the best he can get. Bucky would buy the handsome stranger what he’s having already but doesn’t recognize what’s in his glass, nor that particular type of glass, and he’s feeling more creative than just asking her so he just bluntly asks--

“What’s the most expensive drink you have?” The bartender looks at him funny but tells him regardless. “I’ll get that then," he doesn't even wait for her to say how much it costs, "just not for me--” Bucky tips his head in the mystery man’s direction “--give it to him.”

She does as he asks, sliding the glass across the table to the other man and saying something he doesn’t catch but she looks over to him after. The bartender and Bucky make eye contact again.

Bucky looks away, from her and the man. He's unable to watch the older man refuse it. Bucky doesn't even know if he's gay. He doesn't know why he did it… he just…

Bucky hopes it’s good alcohol. Not to be a picky brat but… his cocktail isn’t very good even with the alcohol hidden behind juice and lots of sugar, so he can’t imagine most of their drinks must be good. It’s just a little neighborhood, almost a dive bar anyway. The more expensive, the smoother the liquor. He knows as such. High-quality champagne goes down like candy.

He hopes this guy appreciates the smoother taste. (If the guy doesn't come over and punch him for being gay.)

Bucky swallows another mouthful of his unsatisfactory cocktail. He barely has it down when the guy approaches him. He has scooped up the new drink in one of those big hands. He must've finished or abandoned his other. And--

He’s smiling as he approaches, apparently as easy-going as he looks in that thick sweater and worn baseball cap.

Handsome and easy-to-please sits down next to him. Playfully mentioning that it looks like things should be the other way around, he should be buying something for Bucky--if Bucky is even old enough to drink? How’d he get in here anyway? It's not the glitzy, flashing-light nightclub he'd expect for a young person.

Bucky internally sighs, if only this was the most debauched place he’s been… but, externally, Bucky tells him, of course, I'm old enough. I've just always had a baby face.

Well, then, even if you're old enough, I'm still right! He grins. Steve--he gives Bucky his name finally--should be buying him a drink instead! Not that it’s hurt Steve’s pride or anything, he just is pretty sure Bucky’s got more important things to spend his money on than buying strangers drinks, like, student loans, partying with kids his age, or actually starting a savings account.

Bucky laughs, harder than he means to, at the examples. He feels lost tonight. The laughter means he ends up having to explain himself, who he is--rather who his father is and who his grandfather was. He doesn’t need another savings account, he already has too many. He bites his tongue before saying he has too much money, which is true but… he's never said that out loud before.

What is going on with him tonight?! He's not even drunk or high!

Steve, however, is obviously taken aback, blue eyes widening. But he tries to hide it. It’s sweet. He continues to treat him like a regular person after he admits it.

It feels real.

Bucky feels like it's not a big deal. Steve even shrugged! If only it was real… not just one night. One moment.

Except…

They talk for a long time.

Bucky buys Steve more drinks. Bucky assumes Steve’s going to take him home or at least back to the bathroom. He wants it. Steve looks like he'd be good at holding and grabbing and fucking. Bucky wants all of that. Steve doesn’t ask though.

And when Bucky asks--would you like to get out of here? Steve cocks his head and says, “we’re drinking.” his eyes also say, I'm so much older than you, are you sure? Am I sure?, but he doesn't voice it.

“Yeah? So?”

“I’d rather not be a drunk hookup.”

“I wouldn’t have to be drunk to hookup with you.”

“You’re sweet,” he says as if Bucky has given him a genuine compliment rather than telling him he’s fuckable, “but still, you’re tipsy. I’m tipsy, so…” He shrugs like that explanation is enough.

Bewildered Bucky asks, “really?”

“As much as I want to take you up on the offer, yeah. We're not really in any state to decide to do that. I don’t think I am at least.”

Huh.

Bucky’s never encountered someone so… responsible? Bucky doesn’t actually know if he's being responsible, but it feels that way. But… okay, sure, not how he thought his night would go, although that's been his entire night, so he might as well keep the punches rolling.

They talk more.

They talk about everything.

And, suddenly, the bar is getting ready to close! Bucky doesn't know where the time has gone. All he knows is that he unthinkingly pays Steve’s tab plus his own. Steve blushes a little in the low bar lighting. And he ends up cracking a few more unserious jokes about role reversal. Their ages. Their income. Their savings. Their lives. The way this should be the other way around if anything.

His jokes give Bucky some ideas…

Ideas that come out of his mouth rather than staying inside his mind because Bucky is only now actually tipsy (he may be young but good, expensive alcohol since he turned 18 will give anyone a high tolerance… especially someone who indulges as often as Bucky does).

Steve might be drunk or humoring him massively because he agrees (with some convincing (less convincing than Bucky expected though)) that they could try that. If Bucky is serious. But not while they're drunk. Again, not while they're drunk.

They exchange phone numbers instead.

Bucky calls his driver to pick him up--he could pay the ticket for driving himself home, no problem, but he's not that much of an ass (or that dumb). He also offers Steve a ride but, apparently, this bar isn’t too far from the place he calls home. And he wants to walk home. Sober up some. Breathe some fresh air so he doesn’t have quite the hangover when he wakes up. Right, hangovers. Another difference in age. Bucky doesn't really get those yet despite how much he drinks.

Anyway, Steve promises to text Bucky later. When he gets home and then even later, about that idea.

I made iit bacj

Bucky recalls the encounter in the morning, waking up with the stale taste of cheap alcohol in his mouth and a single text in his phone. But, he doesn’t know if Steve remembers, beyond that misspelled, drunk text. So he waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Steve does not text him.

Steve does not text him for the entire day after their encounter. And you can call Bucky a spoiled brat who has never had to wait for a goddamn thing in his life, but that wouldn't stop Bucky from being a little upset and impatient. He felt something with Steve! Or he thought he did and--

He wants to believe, desperately, that Steve felt it to.

So, Bucky texts Steve first. He waits a day and a half before caving.

Steve responds: Honestly, I didn’t text you because I couldn’t convince myself that I didn’t dream up last night. Plus, if I didn’t dream it, I hadn’t yet convinced myself that you were serious. Sorry to leave you wondering.

He might just be charming Bucky, calling him a dream, to get at the money that he offered him--Bucky’s had plenty of people do that, use him, trying to get at his wealth, but… he doesn’t care. Let Steve use him for the money if that’s all this is going to be. Steve was just so warm. And Bucky wants more of it. He was freezing. He is freezing, maybe even more so now that he's felt just how good that warmth is.

So…

Over the coming weeks, they text back and forth, explaining themselves, getting to know each other, then arranging a time and place to meet to discuss an actual arrangement.

Companionship for money.

Bucky was serious. He's more serious now. He doesn't want Steve to fade away, he likes him too much, but what else can Bucky offer him than money? Steve seems happy. He's old enough he has his own life with a job and purpose. Not like Bucky.

So, Steve will provide the companionship and Bucky will provide the money.

It takes a while to meet up again, after the bar, because everywhere Bucky suggests they get together, private places, are all places Steve can’t get into (country clubs, lavish nightclubs) or hasn’t ever been to (expensive hotels, secretive businesses off the commonly walked path, whatever). Steve asks, eventually, if he might just come over to Bucky’s house after Bucky shoots down Steve's idea of a cafe because, no, too public. Too high of a risk of paparazzi. Bucky is embarrassed he didn’t think of the simple things. Starbucks. Someone's apartment. A park. God. A country club? That was the best he could come up with?!

Either way, they meet and discuss.

An agreement is made.

Weekly allowances for Steve in the form of money that goes straight to one of his bank accounts (a flat rate with additional “bonuses” depending on how much time Steve spends with Bucky), all his to do whatever he pleases with, and money that goes into an account Steve controls but that is meant for Bucky--money meant for Steve to use to buy things for Bucky. It’s not Steve’s money, not really, but they pretend it is.

Extra money will be added for private events, public events (if Bucky decides he wants that), or other "large" things.

They also discuss what companionship will be exactly. Texting. Phone calls. Breakfast/lunch/dinner dates. Cuddling. Binge-watching shows. Maybe outings to spas or events or parties--if Steve will come with him. And…

Steve, this time, is the one to bring up sex. “Is that going to be a part of this?”

“Can it be?” Bucky asks, blushing and helplessly flicking his eyes down to Steve's body. Those shoulders. That chest. His thighs and what's between them, packed into his slim-fit jeans enticingly.

“Let me think about it,” Steve says steadily, unembarrassed. Once he texted Bucky, in a very non-judgemental way, but I'm not a sex worker, as if he were puzzled that he ended up here. Or puzzled that Bucky wasn't just going for a sex worker. But… he seems to be figuring his own emotions out. Bucky lets him. They move on. Discussing other things.

Eventually, Steve goes home.

A week passes.

Steve agrees that sex can be part of it via a phone call. Bucky tries to not react too strongly and wires him money to go and get an STI test even though he knows Steve can afford it himself. Bucky gets one too for himself.

But, when the results are in, both of them infection-free, sex doesn’t happen immediately. It’s more PG-companionship at first.

~~~

Steve comes over after he finishes work to eat dinner with Bucky, prepared by the help. They chat. They drink with dinner. Bucky soaks in every moment of it. Steve doesn't compliment his non-cooking but he does compliment Bucky's outfit. (He does tell the help they've done wonderfully when they come to collect the plates though.) Bucky wants to roll around in his voice, rumbly and perfect. He resists the urge to immediately have Steve over again the next evening.

He limits himself to bi-weekly at most for the first month. But… he can't keep it that sparse for too long. Steve's company is incredible.

So, dinner happens again and again.

They get comfortable around each other.

They move beyond dinner soon enough. And Steve goes shopping with Bucky, dutifully complimenting every item he puts on and how good he looks in it. Bucky watches Steve pick up things he likes--Bucky can see it on his face--and put them down immediately after seeing the price tag with a horrified noise in the back of his throat. Bucky blurts out, "just fucking get it," the sixth or seventh time it happens. Steve laughs, raising an eyebrow at him, and makes another joke. Something about having unknowingly acquired a sugar daddy. Being allowed to buy exorbitantly priced things. Luxury things.

Then, it's Bucky's turn to make a horrified sound in the back of his throat. This is just companionship and some sex and--

He wasn't ready to admit to that!

Steve senses something is wrong and apologizes without even knowing what he supposedly did. Bucky brushes it off quickly though. At least, Bucky tries to brush it off but he can't.

He can't shake it.

Hearing "Daddy" in Steve's voice… Fuck. Bucky wants to hear him call himself Daddy again. Bucky wants to call him Daddy.

Goddammit.

Despite his self imposed rules to Not Cross That Boundary With Steve…

Bucky ends up enticing Steve to fuck him for the first time in the high-end brand's dressing room. It'll be fine. He can control himself. He can get fucked without moaning for Daddy, right? He's done it before!

Yet…

With his legs tight around Steve's solid waist, his hands squeezing Steve's biceps tightly, and his teeth biting down on one of those huge shoulders as Steve's thick cock makes room for itself inside him, carving him open, hot and fast and good, he can’t muffle himself fully. One tiny gasp of, "d-daddy!" slips out of him.

And it's over.

Steve hears it and his next thrust is punishing. It's harsh. It fucks his cock right up against Bucky's sweet spot.

Bucky's mouth falls open with an obscene moan.

"Again," Steve whispers, pinching his side at the same time, adding a flicker of pain to their fucking.

Bucky doesn't hear it. He's too busy being fucked.

Steve won't stand for that though. He presses Bucky harder against the dressing room wall. Bucky smacks the back of his head happily on the wall. And, "say it again," Steve whispers again, voice harsher this time. Gritted out between his teeth.

Bucky moans louder.

And so Steve cups a hand over his mouth, squeezing his face with one of those huge, powerful hands, heavily whispering, "you better be quiet, baby. 'Cause you don't wanna get caught with your Daddy fucking your pretty brains out, do you? Don't wanna get banned from this store when you like their stupidly expensive clothes so--so fuckin' much, do you?"

Bucky's eyes roll. back. into. his. head. as he whines, muffled, against Steve's palm.

"Do you?"

Bucky shakes his head as much as he can with his jaw being squeezed like this.

"Didn't think so, no, sweet boy wants his Daddy all to himself. Doesn't he?"

The rush of Daddy calling himself Daddy and calling Bucky sweet boy has him spilling between their bodies.

Fuck.

Bucky ruins their clothes but he doesn't even blink. They'll just wear some of their clothes out of the store. Steve is floored. Jaw dropped. Bucky's gonna buy all of that? A whole new outfit? Did he even look at the tags? Did he even look at how much it costs? Bucky shakes his head. Nope. It doesn't matter. It can't be that expensive.

"Jesus Christ, boy," Steve murmurs, shaking his head and chuckling.

Bucky, playful and high on such a fantastic fucking and orgasm, leans in reeeal close to Daddy. He stretches up onto his tippy-toes. And he bites that beard jaw, purring, "welcome to the high life, Daddy."

Steve groans, his soft cock twitching in his new, expensive slacks.

~~~

And suddenly it's like hearing Bucky say that once, then hooking up and using it, makes everything click in Steve's head.

It's like he suddenly can read Bucky's thoughts. Because somehow he knows exactly what he craves now.

And Steve fucking steps. up. his. game.

He goes from just your average paid-romantic-partner to dream fucking Daddy.

Steve feeds Bucky dinner, balancing the younger man in his lap, telling him he’s good and pretty and everything Bucky knew he craved to hear but also what he didn't know he wanted--he needed to hear. It's a damn religious experience.

Steve gets a key to his brownstone and lets himself in before Bucky returns home to start a bath for him. A bath complete with fancy products that he buys with Bucky in mind and the peachy smell the younger man likes. Once Bucky arrives home, Steve brings him into the bathroom to strip him, jerk him off until he's crumbling into Daddy's chest, weak at the knees, and lower him into the bath he's made. Daddy washes him limb by limb, massaging him as he goes. Then… Daddy lifts him out of the bath and dumps him on his bed to fuck him. Bucky cannot do shit after his bath. God. His head is lolled back, his muscles are all melted, and his noises only come out as puffed, breathy, and overwhelmed things. Daddy teases him affectionately for being a spoiled princess. But, shit, with the way Daddy puts his back into fucking him… it doesn't seem like he minds.

Steve lets Bucky pull him around social events. Wide-eyed and trying not to be the entire time. He often leans into Bucky throughout the night, covertly asking him what the fuck is that? What should I order? Why is it all in french, what the hell? How the fuck do I eat that? What fork again? Which glass? Disguising all of his questions are sweet nothings that make Bucky blush, doted on by his older partner.

~~~

Bucky knows he’s whining the second he starts talking into the receiver of his cell phone after the beep indicating that he needs to leave his message or hang up, “Daddyyy, I hope whatever you’re doing is important enough to excuse you not picking up,” he can't help but huff. He’s had the, like, worst day ever. Already. It's barely 1:00 pm and he has an event to attend tonight. “I just Venmo-ed you your extra allowance-" that's what they've taken to calling the money that Steve gets to spend on Bucky, "-for this week and with the day I’ve had..." he sighs, pinching his brow and forcing himself over the embarrassment of actually asking for what he needs, once in his goddamn life. His cheeks are pink. At least he knows Steve likes it. Him asking for shit. “I want something really nice, please, Daddy? Something that'll help me blow off steam." Bucky blushes more intensely, finishing off with, "I'll see you Friday, Daddy--don't forget my driver is coming by to pick you up--but it'd be good if you could maybe call me before then. Bye-bye”

Steve calls back after work. He must've sped home to call so soon. Bucky smirks, thinking about maybe having to pay for a speeding ticket. Which shouldn't turn him on but… he's been known to have a thing for bad boys here and there 😏

Daddy has good timing with his call, he's just getting changed for tonight's event.

Steve's rumbling voice greets him the second he picks up the call labeled 💖🔥Daddy🔥💖 “tough week, huh, sweet boy? That's okay, Daddy's here to make it better."

Bucky sighs. Already, he feels better. Already, he can feel his brain begin to fade away into a pink, cotton candy haze he seems to always soak in when around Steve.

Yet, Steve's voice gets more mischievous now, "Daddy bought you some pretty things like you deserve but Daddy also bought himself something… you wanna know what he got?"

Bucky nods, frazzled enough to forget Steve can't see him. When he remembers suddenly though, he forces his voice to work, "y-yeah, wanna know."

"There's Daddy's sweet boyy," he coos. He swallows, then, "Daddy bought himself a Rolex."

Oh, oof.

There's another thing that shouldn't turn Bucky on but does… high-end brand names coming out of Steve's plush lips. Something about hearing it makes Bucky's dick hard. He doesn't know what and he doesn't really care to know so long as Steve keeps doing it.

"But you know the secret about what Daddy bought himself today?"

"No," Bucky breathes.

"Well," Steve pauses dramatically, "this watch isn’t just for Daddy. It's for you too, baby boy, 'cause as cute as you are… I know you're a dirty boy too."

Bucky dramatically flops back onto his bed before he can collapse where he had been pacing in his bedroom, in front of the huge mirrored walk-in-closet doors. Knees starting to buckle as his head swims with arousal.

Steve hears him move and chuckles darkly through his next few words, "I know as innocent as you look, you like it rough."

Bucky squeaks despite himself.

"You like it rough and want Daddy to call you sweet names and tell you sweet things, but you want Daddy to fuck you like he hates your guts."

God. Bucky whines, clutching his phone harder. It's true. It's really fucking true.

"And I know better than a collar you'd like Daddy's hand on your throat."

Fuck. His eyes squeeze shut tightly.

"So, what do you think? You think my hand around your throat with this new watch on will make you look extra pretty?"

Bucky's breath stutters. Oh.

"'Cause Daddy thinks you'll look even prettier with a Rolex near your throat. All shiny and sparkly over that blush you always get. Turning red 'cause you're hard for Daddy but also red because Daddy decides when you breathe. Isn't that right, baby?"

Bucky cannot speak. This is entirely unexpected and incredibly perfect. A punch to the gut of pure arousal.

"Daddy decides everything--his pretty boy doesn't have to think when Daddy's home."

"Daddy-" Bucky gasps.

Daddy doesn't even acknowledge it. He doesn't give him room to breathe. He just goes for the kill, "but Daddy also bought something just for you, y’know?"

"No?"

"Mmm, well, let Daddy tell you then. Daddy bought his pretty boy something pretty. You wanna guess what pretty thing it is?"

"Uhh, yuh-yeah?"

Steve pauses. He waits. He prompts, "what then, sweets?" when Bucky can't kick his head into thinking.

Bucky sputters, "uh, jewelry?" He takes a shot in the dark, only thinking about the press of an obscene priced watch, cold and hard, to his throat and chest, Daddy's fingers squeezing his neck tight.

"Nah, try again."

"A toy?"

"Nope." He sounds smug.

"Clothes?"

"Mm-hm, it's some kind of clothes, yup."

"Pretty clothes?"

"Duh," he playfully admonishes.

Bucky breathes a little harder. Clothes, clothes, clothes, what kind of clothes could it be? "A suit?"

"Smaller than a suit."

This game is getting him more wound up than he cares to admit. He's all hot and squirmy on his bed. "A shirt?"

"No. Smaller still."

"Um, okay," Bucky licks his lips, "wh-what about… underwear?"

"Try another word for underwear."

Bucky whines. Oh.

Oh, no.

He--he can't. He can't say that out loud! He knows--he thinks he knows what Daddy bought him--but…

"Daddy wants to hear you say it, c’mon, kitten. Say it for me."

Those words sound like pure sin coming off of his lips, so, of course, he can't resist obeying. "P-panties?"

"Not just panties, baby boy. Daddy got some special panties for his boy."

Oh.

Bucky--

Bucky doesn't know what to do with himself. Jesus. He's so hard. From just talking. He's aching from just talking over the phone. Christ.

"Daddy bought you easy-access panties. And if you fuckin' ruin 'em from being too excited and eager for Daddy, then I'll just have to buy more... 'cause I've got plans for your little body in these little panties."

The way he says these little panties lets Bucky know he has them in his hands. He's touching them. Bucky wants Daddy to touch him. He wants--he, he…

Fuck.

The image of Daddy jerking himself off with panties meant for Bucky wrapped around his hard cock knocks Bucky off his fucking rocker. He moans like he's being fisted. He moans like he's not just lying back on his king-sized bad being dirty talked so, so thoroughly.

"Wanna hear the plan Daddy has for you?"

Bucky nods frantically, making a ridiculous uh-huh sound. He already sounds fucked out.

"Daddy is gonna put these easy-access panties on his boy and slide his fingers into that pretty little cunt. One finger at a time, using that strawberry-scented lube you like, sweet boy. 'M gonna finger you, all without your new, lacy, pink, easy access panties coming off because you're desperate for Daddy and desperate for how filthy and pretty you feel in panties, you dirty boy."

Bucky can't breathe.

He hoarsely whines.

He can't process how hot that sounds, so he has no idea how he'll be able to live through it.

"And even if you clench down on Daddy's fingers and cum we're not stopping. Daddy isn't stopping. No. Daddy's not gonna quit touching that pink, pretty cunt until it's split open on Daddy's fist--"

Bucky instantly pictures those huge hands. His thick, long fingers. Bucky's mouth waters.

Shit.

"--'Cause Daddy wants his new watch on his wrist to touch your greedy, twitching, and wet rim."

Bucky doesn't even… he can't even think. He, his--his lips just move, reckless and unbearably needy, "fuck the fucking party Daddy. You. Here. Now. Please, please, please. Need it. Need you. You hav'ta get here! Daddy!"

Steve chuckles evilly, "okay, okay, Daddy's on his way, sweetheart. Just sit tight. Oh, and, baby-?"

"Wha--"

"Don't you dare touch yourself, Daddy wants your pleasure all to himself. Hands off." He orders.

Bucky whines like a kicked puppy. That's not faaair!

Anyway I hope that was worth the read lmao 🤘🏻

#fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #au #stevebucky #howdoyousleep3 #reverse sugar daddy

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lucy90712 · 3 months

Text

First kiss- Carlos Alcaraz

"Do you use tongue on a first kiss?" Asks the interviewer

Most people would fully expect Carlos to say no including me but no his inability to lie kicked in again. He simply nodded his head and smiled while his cheeks went a bit pink but I think mine were worse I imagine I looked like a tomato.

Carlos brought me to this interview as I had just made it out to Australia after missing the first few matches due to work and he wanted to spend time with me. I was expecting a normal interview with a few basic questions as I've been with him to plenty of interviews like that but this one was a little different from the start as it felt more like a little game show or quiz show thing. It was nice to have something a little different and I was enjoying it until that question and answer came up. All of the crew shot me a glance as when we arrived Carlos introduced me as his girlfriend now I'm really wishing he didn't. I know exactly what they were all thinking they were wondering if Carlos did that when we had our first kiss and that's what everyone is going to wonder when this interview comes out.

The story of our first date and first kiss was bound to come out one day but I was hoping that would be further down the road and that people would think it's a cute story but now this interview will be in the back of everyone's mind. It is a cute story though.

~~~~~~~~~~

Most people never get to experience going on a first date with someone even remotely famous let alone a famous tennis player who is very much well known across the country and the world. Somehow I've found myself in that exact situation who knew looking like an idiot on a tennis court could end with a date with a professional player who somehow found your awful attempt at tennis endearing.

I feel like I should be nervous but for some reason I'm not. I just don't have any expectations I never thought I'd be in this situation so if things don't go well then my life hasn't really changed I've just been on another bad first date. It's only if things go well that things will change which is definitely a problem for future me which is why I'm not really that bothered right now. As much as I'm not nervous I do want to make a good impression as Carlos was really nice and he's incredibly attractive. In my mind to make a good impression and not just seem like any random girl I had to make sure I dressed up and made myself look nice. I did some stalking before today so I know that Carlos could probably have any girl he wanted definitely someone prettier than me so I want to look my best and hope my personality makes up for the rest.

Carlos said he would pick me up from my apartment at 8 and exactly as the clock turned 8 I got a text and the buzzer to my apartment went off. I made my way downstairs at lightning speed not wanting to keep him waiting too long which was exhausting but as soon as I saw Carlos' face and his bright smile running down 5 flights of stairs felt worth it. He greeted me with a hug and we made our way out to his car where he opened the passenger side door for me before getting in himself. When we planned this date he simply asked me my favourite type of food and if I have any allergies and that was it so I assume we are going to a restaurant but other than that I don't have a clue what we are doing. He drove us out of the busy city centre and into a smaller more rural town which I had never been to before. We drove for a few more minutes before he pulled into a parking space outside this small, quaint looking restaurant. It wasn't somewhere that I'd have ever found myself but I'm excited to try it out.

Being a wonderful gentleman Carlos opened my door for me and offered his hand to help me get out which I didn't need but I wasn't going to miss out on the chance to hold his hand. He kept hold of my hand as we walked into the restaurant and were shown to our table, he only let go to pull out my chair for me and take my jacket. He was being so lovely which I'm not going to say I didn't expect as I'm sure his parents raised him right but you never know how someone with such a big following is going to act I mean I've had a run in with a footballer who was the rudest person I've ever met. Carlos is different though he's been nothing but kind since we met and clearly he hasn't let his success get to his head.

We both ordered our food and got to talking properly for the first time since our brief interaction when we met. I really thought we'd have nothing in common as our lives are nothing alike but we actually had so many common interests and our lives growing up weren't as dissimilar as I thought they would be. We ate our food which was so delicious but we both just wanted to keep talking. I've never wanted a first date to keep going as much as I do with this one I think I've finally found my person and when I least expect to as well.

After dinner Carlos drove me home and this time he came up to my apartment with me as he wanted to make sure I got in safely. While he was there I gave him a quick tour of my apartment before the time came that we had to say goodbye to each other. As we were saying goodbye there so much built up tension we were both looking into each others eyes and then at one another's lips. Carlos took the initiative and leant in finally attaching our lips, the kiss was amazing feeling his lips against mine everything felt right in the world. He took me by surprise when he added his tongue to the kiss I wasn't complaining but I didn't expect him to be so forward on the first date or with our first kiss. When he pulled away he pecked my lips before saying goodbye with a smirk on his face and me with the biggest smile on mine.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was so distracted reliving my first date with Carlos that I had zoned out of the rest of the interview. I only came back into reality when I felt a kiss be pressed to my cheek by none other than the guy I was thinking about who has made the best boyfriend. He smiled at me and helped me up from the chair I was sat on before giving me a proper kiss which also garnered a look from everyone else in the room which made me blush.

“Are you ok?” Carlos asked

“I’m fine just next time you do an interview maybe don’t tell everyone that you use tongue on the first kiss or at least not when I’m in the room it attracts attention” I said

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you” he apologised sincerely

“Its ok I’ll forget about it in a few hours but don’t you dare go telling anyone about the first time we had sex or I will kill you” I smile walking off to the car ready to go back to the hotel

#carlos alcaraz oneshots #carlos alcaraz x reader #carlos alcaraz imagine #carlos alcaraz imagines #carlos alcaraz

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therealvinelle · 8 months

Note

This has been picking my squishy little thought organ.

Submitted to several others for a wide range of potential awnsers

If Jalice had a kid, what are some hypothetical gifts it could have?

I could see it having the gift of giving hallucinations.

(that previous ANON got me thinking, clearly)

Because of his emotional ability--> making them believable. [Fool the emotions all else will follow.] Her visions are quite sporadic at times. ---> crafting the mental space devoted to that.

Environmental Factors---> Bella & her daughter can project, and I think environmental factors will give the gift a push to be able to be casted. INSTEAD of actually just ending up with hyperaphantasia.

"People with hyperphantasia can imagine scenes, sounds, smells, tastes, and sensations with great clarity and detail. They may also have enhanced abilities in creativity, memory, and empathy."

Alice & Bella are besties, so they'll spend a considerable amount of time together interacting. So, I think the block Renesme has on the visions will be a giant factor too.

Despite Bella and Alice just not being close it will happen anyway. Cause there's nowhere realistically for her to go.

She's stuck and Alice probably isn't going to get a vision going oh, now is the right time to leave.

Even if you could argue oh, they'll never fight. Most likely right unless we wanna go even more Au... {Which I am 100% ok with}

But I think Alice's slight harboring of resentment for Renesme for blocking her visions will be the key in the lock for this to all work out right.

She isn't going to stop blocking them. Alice already has had time to get over her gift dependency so much but like she won't do that.

Jasper's gift can't be blocked by a shield, but I imagine he's a little immune to Renesme's gift. (Realistically not...? But it's a silly little Tumblr post I don't want to think about the power scale too hard and implode.)

I was hoping you could pick up where I left off about how things realistically work in Twilight.

Besides the whole vampires have a kid despite one being infertile.

But I think this would be a hell-on-wheels problem. Cause while Jasper I'd argue! Has a more moral conscious (at least in the ways we see it.) than Alice. But they're both pretty grey.

Which means they're both pretty ruthless. Like Bella and Edward are for their child.

All i know is this offspring would have to be so lucky to not be snatched by the Volturi.

I think this kid would fare better than Renesme in the short and long term. Even if they were both hybrids. This kid would have parents that would in my opinion actually teach it more.

I think Bella and Edward don't teach Renesme. much.

I think Jasper would make sure his kid had the skills should they be needed to be used. And Alice would support this or just let it happen. I think he's a more active parent than her but that's 100% different bullshit Au type of discussion and I just needed to drop this meta off to blogs for their thoughts.

I am driving myself crazy. I would like to sleep.

Well, I'm not entirely sure how this child would come to be in the first place as Jasper and Alice can't have one.

Assuming, though, that God bestowed one upon them, I subscribe to @smallcatwoman's fellow who has the gift of seeing emotional outcomes, the child would be as delightfully alien as Alice only in a very different way (optimal future-oriented Alice versus happiest outcome-seeker Greige).

As for how the child is raised, I imagine it would have much the same upbringing as Renesmee. If Jasper and Alice are interested in teaching a child, Renesmee is right there and is, by all accounts, The Cullen Child™. They are all devoting every resource to her, raising her communnaly for all that she is officially Bella and Edward's.

A second child with a different set of parents would, if possible, be even more Cullen Communal Property than Renesmee: Bella, at least, had an interest in her child, Alice screams childfree. Oh, she'll be the cool aunt and take the kid shopping, no problem, but parenting? Motherhood?

Esme and Rosalie can do the hard parts, and Jasper and Carlisle too if they want. Alice will be pointing out that God making the child genetically hers was simply a matter of good taste, doesn't mean she should be raising the damn thing.

And the child gets to live in the shadow of Renesmee, who was wanted by her mother, the first and miraculous baby everybody and their cousin were willing to die for, and has a guy imprinted on her. Renesmee, by all accounts, would be the golden child and the other one would be... the other one.

Wasn't supposed to exist, his mother foisted him off and prefers to dress up Renesmee anyway, and his gift is only able to tell him that he can't be happy around his family, so he ignores it.

Perhaps Greige will love Renesmee, but I prefer the timeline where he resents her too much to recognise his cousin for just as unhappy as he is, and Renesmee has no idea why but only knows that she can't meaningfully connect to him.

Drama is had.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight headcanons #greige #renesmee cullen #twilight meta

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yellowhollyhock · 2 months

Text

Day 4 Sunset

Raph and Mikey 2012 soft moment

tw grief, canon character death

“You know what I miss?”

Raph jerked his head up, refocusing his attention on the dark expanse of the universe splayed out in front of them. “What, Mikey?” he asked groggily.

Floating through space with no traditional passage of time was really throwing off his sleep schedule. He’d tried to ask Donnie about it, but that had just led him to talk himself into a frenzy, which led Fugitoid to give them all a headache-inducing education on how time is tracked in open space, which helped Raph sleep the once but did absolutely nothing for his circadian rhythm.

“I miss sunsets.”

Raph stifled a yawn and sat up straighter in his chair, glancing over at his little brother. He was staring out the front window with wide, sad eyes—and not the wide, sad eyes that meant he was about to get his way. A deep, detached, mature sort of sadness that scared Raph a little. His voice was soft with a type of melancholy that placed Raph’s internal clock at about three a.m., because that was the time of day for this kind of melancholy. For these kinds of conversations.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Sunset was uniquely precious in their family. That was the time of day they gathered and watched through the sewer grate while the city shed its blaring daytime hustle and was bathed in colored streetlight. The time they could step outside and be part of it.

As much a part as mutants ever could be, anyway.

A quiet sniffle pulled him out of his thoughts, once again bringing his gaze away from the black window and towards his little brother. Mikey turned to the side, swiping at his eyes and snout.

He never used to hide his tears, back home.

With a wet chuckle, Mikey turned to face him again. “Remember how Leo would wake us all up early to make sure we didn’t miss it?”

Raph rolled his eyes. “That was only when we had a mission he was stressed about or wanted an early start on. You’re the one who never wanted to miss a sunset.”

Mikey smiled tiredly. “I did like seeing them. I wish I’d liked them more while we still had them.”

Raph held his breath, his own feelings of profound loss at the memory of their planet scattering into the universe like powder dissolving in liquid pushed to the side while he waited to see what his brother needed.

Sure enough, the tears were flowing freely before long. “I really miss Master Splinter.”

Raph stood up from his chair and moved to stand by Mikey’s, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Me too.”

They cried on each other’s shoulders, Mikey sobbing openly, Raph weeping silently. If Leo or Donnie were there, they’d probably tell them that if they could just stay focused, they were going to see Splinter and planet earth again. They just needed to hang on.

Well, Raph wasn’t them. He didn’t know what would happen in the future, he just knew that right now it hurt.

As Mikey’s sobs petered off, Raph pulled back with one last fortifying shoulder squeeze. “Hey, you know what? Someday you’re gonna miss this view, too. Think about it. How often in our lives do we get to see the whole expanse of space just laid out in front of us? It’s kind of cool to learn about all the different planets, right?”

Mikey giggled. “Now you sound like Donnie.”

“Yeah, well,” Raph rubbed his head fondly, “Maybe we should listen to him.”

Mikey hummed. “I’m worried about them,” he said softly. “Him and Leo.”

Raph nodded. “Yeah, well. They’re just focused right now. You know how it is. Once the problem is solved they’ll be ready to process, and you and I will be here, right?”

“But what if it doesn’t get solved?”

Raph’s heart ached, visions of Splinter’s limp body laid out in front of them filling up the dark void. No more sunsets, no more training. Nothing.

“Well, then I’ll be really ticked off,” he said gruffly, he moved back in to put Mikey in a headlock, “That out of all the creatures on planet earth before it blew up, I got stuck with a roommate who snores.”

Mikey giggled and snorted, pushing Raph away. “You snore too.”

“No way, I sleep like a princess.”

They laughed together, not full laughter, but enough to exhaust their meagre energy.

“Thanks, Raph,” Mikey said, voice suddenly chipper. “I feel lots better. We should do fake sunsets every day.”

Raph frowned. “Fake sunsets?”

“Yeah, you know, to get us going. Just like imagine the colors and talk about stuff like we used to. Well, we didn’t talk then because we’re ninjas and we were under the street, but we kind of talked to each other with our minds.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I’m gonna go make breakfast and yell at Leo for sleeping in.”

Before Raph could process that statement, the chair besides him was empty, and his brother apparently, fully awake.

And he was alone in front of the window.

“What time is it?” he hollered, in spite of knowing Mikey wouldn’t hear him.

Maybe he should bite the bullet and ask Fugitoid again. They really needed to all sync up their internal clocks.

Oh, well. Future Raph’s problem. He settled back into his chair to sleep, gentle shades of orange and red backlighting neon lights blending into his dreams, finally fading to purple, blue, and black.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #2012 raph #2012 mikey #these little goobers have grown on me #march for raph

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filmtv2022 · 2 years

Text

By Your Side: Chapter Two (16+)

Image Credit: IMDB - The Void

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader & platonic!Perry x Reader

Chapter Summary:

Y/N finds herself continuing to reminisce about the past.

All the while, Y/N continues to deal with the horrors of the past clashing with her future. Perry reaches out to Y/N for help and encourages her to talk with Rhett.

Summary: Returning to Wabang was never something that Y/N had planned on, but with the loss of her father leaving her the sole owner of her family’s farm she must go back. Time spent at home forces Y/N to face the people she left behind. Will Y/N be able to navigate the murky waters of her past and present as the lines between them blur?

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol abuse + language + mentions of bullying

A/N: This chapter is more focused on setting up some of Y/N's story, and continuing to establish the relationship she has with the Abbotts. Next chapter we will dive back into more about Rhett & Y/N. For now, I hope you enjoyed seeing Amy, Perry & Y/N together again... I think they are a pretty great trio. Just be aware that we will quickly be moving into the 18+ category very soon. So please read with caution. And as always, I apologize for any errors.

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

Your body grew limp in Rhett’s arms as the last of the tears fell, his shirt was damp with them as you tried to extricate yourself from his hold. Loosening his grip on you, Rhett took a step back, watching you as you wiped at your eyes and nose. The awkwardness returned in full force as you recovered from your moment of grief.

“I’m sorry for that Rhett. Umm, I hate to ask it, but is there any chance one of y’all would be able to give me a ride back home?” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you spoke, it was too much to handle along with asking for a favor.

“Of course. Let me go grab my keys, and let Ma know what’s going on.” He turned away from you to head back to the house. He’d made it about halfway to the door when he realized you weren’t behind him, “You should probably come on in for a minute while I let Ma know, don’t want ya catching a cold out here. She’d have my skin.”

“Sure.” Timidly you followed after Rhett leaving some distance between you two as you moved back into the house, and shut the door behind you. Not wanting to intrude further you stood by the door, waiting quietly as you listened to Rhett and his mom speak from the upstairs landing. Your gaze had fallen to the tattered leather of your boots, and the scratched flooring beneath them. With your focus on the ground, you missed Rhett returning with keys in hand.

“Ready?”

“Hmm? Oh… yeah, I’m ready.”

Rhett slid around you and opened the front door before waiting for you to exit yourself. Once outside your first stop was the passenger side of your truck to pick up the leftovers you’d been given. The fridge back at home was bare except for a random assortment of condiments. Not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, you made your way to Rhett’s vehicle with the food in hand. Using the door for a bit of leverage you settled yourself into the seat, shutting it behind you. Rhett repeated similar actions to your own, turning the truck on and backing up before pulling out of the driveway. The ride was silent, the only sound was that of the tires whirring over the road as he drove a bit too fast in the direction of your family farm. Looking over at him you could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he stared out at the black space ahead of him. Whether he knew it or not, that was Rhett’s tell. You always knew when something was bothering him when he worked his jaw over and over as if the more he did it the faster the answer to his problem would come.

There was no need to ask what had him like this, it was you. There were so many things you wanted to say, so much to explain, a countless list of apologies to give, sins to atone for, but every one of them caught like barbed wire in your throat. So, there you sat, the quiet hanging heavy around the two of you as the minutes ticked by. Mercifully, the click of the turn signal marked the last few seconds of the ride. The truck slowed to a stop in front of the dark figure of your family home. Satisfied that you had everything you came with, you quickly exited your seat. Rhett watched you intently as you pulled your keys from your purse, and adjusted the container in your hands so that it’d be easier to hold when you opened the front door. Your hand came up to the metal of the door and gave it a small shove.

“Wait.” Rhett’s voice stopped your hand mid-motion, your fingers curling around the edge to keep it from closing. For the first time since he came into the room tonight for dinner your eyes locked with his.

“Uhh, Ma told me to give this to you just in case you need it.” A small piece of paper with torn edges was gripped in his fingers as he extended his hand to you. Tentatively you took it and opened it up. On it, there was a series of phone numbers. At the top was the house phone for the Abbott ranch, then there was Royal’s cell, Perry’s, and Ceci’s, and tacked on the bottom was Rhett’s number.

“Appreciate it… thanks for the lift.” stepping back you shut the door the rest of the way, and practically sprinted to the house. It didn’t take more than thirty seconds for you to get inside, but Rhett waited. He waited until he saw the kitchen light turned on and your figure made its way past the window to the fridge. For just a minute the desperate urge to get out of the truck and go inside overwhelmed him. Maybe talking with you’d make it all make sense. He could ask the questions he’d been dying to ask for so long. But no sooner than the thought had come, it moved on. Before Rhett’s judgment slipped for real he pulled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell.

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

You could feel the last of your energy leaving your body as you stood in front of the closed refrigerator. Letting your body succumb to exhaustion for just a moment, you rested your forehead on the cool plastic of the fridge. The sensation grounding you in reality. You could have stayed there indefinitely, but the ache of your tired body forced you to move. Carefully, you made your way throughout the house, double-checking that every door and window was securely latched and locked. Each door handle was jiggled, and every lock was brushed with your fingertips. Your final stop was your childhood bedroom. You knew you should wash your face, and brush your teeth, but you simply didn’t have the strength. Instead, you slipped into your room, shoving your desk chair under the door handle to lock it in place once you were inside. Kicking off your boots you pulled back the covers and slipped into bed. It didn’t take long before your mind tumbled into unconsciousness.

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

The feeling of chilled sweat trapped against your skin woke you up. Shivers shook your body as you threw back the covers and the cool air hit your damp skin. Standing you slid your arms out of the sleeves of Rhett’s hoodie before pulling it up over your head. Your jeans and underwear were discarded on the floor while you rummaged through your bag in search of a fresh pair of clothes, but all you found were the dirty clothes you’d thrown back into the back during the past few days.

“Damnit” you mumbled to yourself as you found the least offensive of the garments from your bag to put on while you did a load of laundry. Settling on an old band t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants, you gathered the rest of the clothes back into the bag. With one hand you held the bag and with the other, you forced the chair wedged under your door handle out of the way. The emptiness of the house was immense, making you feel small in the wake of it. The wooden floors beneath your feet sounded a rhythmic pattern as you walked through the house to the laundry room. Moving on autopilot you threw the clothes into the top loading machine, adding probably a bit too much detergent. Letting the lid slam hard, you cranked the dial to cold and forced the button in to start. The rush of water could be heard as you left the space and headed for the kitchen.

Not wanting to bother with heating up the leftovers, you took the heavy bowl from the fridge and found yourself a spoon. Quietly you sat at the table eating bite after bite of the pot pie and listening to the washing machine hum until your stomach was satisfied. Pushing your chair back from the table the legs scraped against the floor like nails on a chalkboard. Doing dishes seemed like an impossible task for you mentally, so you decided that it could wait, and instead, you filled the bowl with a little soap and water to let it soak until you were ready.

Standing at the sink you found yourself caught in a memory that felt like it was from another lifetime.

The dishwater was warm against your hands as you reached for the last plate in the sink. Scrubbing hard against the stuck-on food with a sponge you let yourself sway to the music that was playing from the radio on the counter. With the plate now shining, you sat down the sponge and reached for the cloth to dry. Methodically you sat the plate in the drying rack before unplugging the drain stopper and watching the water disappear in a small whirlpool. You’d finished just in time, as the sound of Rhett’s truck could be heard pulling up the driveway. Putting it in park, he honked twice, his signal to you that he was here.

Moving from the sink you stopped by the fridge to grab a bottle of beer before you grabbed the white envelope that had been sitting on the kitchen table unopened for the past two days. Shoving it in the side pocket of your bag, you pulled on your boots, and went to tell your dad where you were going. He was exactly where you expected to find him, in his recliner with a bottle of beer in his hand and a far-off look in his eyes. With great care to not startle him, you came up beside his chair, and put your hand on his shoulder, setting the bottle down on the table next to him as you spoke.

“Hey, daddy, Rhett’s here. I’m headed out for the night, but do you need anything before I go?”

There was no actual response, just a grunt of acknowledgment. It had been four months since your mother had passed, and this had become your nightly routine. You’d cook dinner, which your father would rarely eat with you, foregoing the meal for alcohol. Then you cleaned up the mess as best as you could before Rhett came to pick you up. You felt terrible leaving your father each night, but you couldn’t watch him drown his grief in Budweiser and whiskey.

“Alright, well, I am gonna head out, but I’ll see you tomorrow okay? I love you, daddy.” You placed a kiss on the top of his balding head.

Snatching your bag from its spot by the front door, you quickly made your way to Rhett, who reached across the bench seat to open your door for you. Once inside the cab, you threw your bag onto the mat below your feet as he pulled away from your home. Clicking your seatbelt into place you tucked your feet up on the seat as your arms encircled your knees holding them to your chest. You sat quietly with your chin resting on your knees for the entire ride back to the Abbott ranch. Not sure how to help at the moment, Rhett turned on the radio and dialed your favorite station in the hopes that it would bring you some peace. But nothing changed, your eyes were glassy with tears that threatened to fall, but didn’t. Every few minutes he would look over at you searching for something else to try, but he resigned himself to the fact that nothing was going to ease the pain you were feeling right now. You’d just watched your mother waste away from cancer and now your father was drinking himself into oblivion, leaving you to navigate the last year of high school without your parents. The only ones helping you hold it together were Rhett and his family.

Pulling into his spot, Rhett cut the engine and waited. He waited for you to move and when you didn’t he methodically worked to get you out of the truck and into the house. Getting out, he walked around to your side and opened the door. Reaching around your body he unbuckled your seat belt, easing it back into its spot. Next, he gently turned you to face him. One of his hands found your shoulder while the other grabbed your hand as he helped you step down. With your feet on the ground, he leaned back into the cab and plucked your bag from the mat. Standing back up to this full height, he flung the bag over his shoulder while threading his fingers with yours. Unhurriedly, he moved you towards the house, letting you set the pace.

Once inside, Rhett guided you to the couch, setting your bag on the ground next to you before placing a kiss on your lips.

“Y/N, I’m gonna get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He tried to turn away from you, but you held on firmly to his hand.

“Hey, I promise I’ll be right back. Okay?” You nodded your head almost imperceptibly, but it was enough of a confirmation for Rhett to move.

The living room opened to the kitchen so you could hear him rummaging around in the fridge for a bottle of water when Cecilia Abbott entered the room. She gave you a quick look over before heading into talk with her son.

“How’s she doing Rhett?” Her voice was dripping with concern.

“She’s shutting down again Ma. Hasn’t said a word since I picked her up.”

Ceci hummed her acknowledgment.

“And I don’t even know what the hell to do. He’s drinking himself into the ground and letting Y/N suffer for it. I just don’t get it, can’t he see he’s hurtin’ her?”

“He can’t see past his own grief right now honey.”

“But that’s bullshit Ma! He’s her father, he should be takin’ care of her, not the other way around.” Rhett’s voice was growing louder with anger as she vented to his mother.

“I know honey, but it’s not as simple as that. Mr. Y/L/N is a good man, he’s just… lost his way right now. All we can do is keep doing what we have been doing, okay? You keep lovin’ her and being there for her however she needs, and we’ll do our best to pick up the pieces together, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Come here.” You couldn’t see it, but Ceci pulled Rhett in for a hug. It crushed her to see you so hurt, and watching Rhett struggle alongside you was devastating to her. Letting her son go, he moved back to the living room, finding a seat on the couch next to you. Opening the bottle of water he handed it to you and encouraged you to drink. You took a few small sips before giving it back to him. Twisting the cap back on he placed it on the table next to the arm of the couch. Standing, he removed his boots before helping you do the same. With the shoes placed next to the couch, he plopped back down into the space he had been in before.

Pushing himself up against the armrest, Rhett made sure he was situated before pulling you on top of him, your front to his chest, your legs tangled with each other. And there you two stayed for the rest of the night. His strong arms encircled your frame holding you tight to him. His hands slid up and down your back rubbing comforting patterns against your… his hoodie. Rhett’s mind spun on what his mother had said as he lay with you.

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The ringing of the phone invaded the edges of your mind, eventually yanking you back into the present moment. Without hurry, you made your way to the phone and lifted it from the receiver.

““Hello, Y/L/N residence. Y/N speaking.”

“Y/N, it’s me, Amy.” Her voice was tinged with sadness as she spoke, flooding your heart with concern.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up? You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah…”

“You sure?” You could tell she was having a rough day, but she didn’t really want to talk about it right then.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Alright. Is there somethin’ you wanted to ask me?” You hoped that changing the subject might help.

“Well, I… I had an idea, and when I asked dad about it he said that it would be okay, but that I had to ask you myself.”

“Okay, baby bug, what’s your idea?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d wanna come have a movie night with me.”

“Oh… sweetie that sounds so nice, but I can’t keep barging in on your family. Besides, wouldn’t you have more fun if you invited one of your friends over?”

“But Y/N, I wanna watch a movie with you.” You could hear the disappointment in her voice as she spoke, the sound of it tore at your heart.

“I know bug, I’m just not sure it’s a good idea right now.” In the background, you could hear a male voice speaking, but it was hard to tell what was being said.

“Dad was wonderin’ if he could talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure, put him on whenever he’s ready.” Your gut dropped at the fact that Perry wanted to speak with you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Per. What’s up?”

“I really hate to bother you, I know things aren’t the most comfortable around here for ya’, but Amy could really use having you around right now.”

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“It’s those girls again. They… they kept making comments about her mom. They were back at it again in Sunday school this morning. I tried to help, but she just keeps pushing me away.”

“Jesus Christ, Per. What the hell are they sayin’?”

“Some real’ cruel shit Y/N. it’s happening at school too, and they’re doin’’ nothin’ to help.”

“Fuck. Really? What the hell is wrong with ‘em? Yeah, I’m in, I’m happy to help. Can you hand the phone back to Amy for a second? ”

“Thank you Y/N. And sure, I’ll get her.” You could hear him calling for Amy to come back into the room.

“I’m back.”

“Good. Well, I talked with your daddy, and you need to give him a big hug and a thank you. He did a right fine job of convincing me.”

“You’re gonna come over?!”

“Yea, baby bug. And we’re gonna make popcorn, and eat ice cream. We can even do a little pamperin’ if you want. I’m sure your grandma’s got a stash of nail polish hidden in that house somewhere.”

“For real?!”

“Yes, for real. Now ask your daddy what time I need to be ready.” You could hear the phone smack down on the counter as Amy took off to ask her dad the question. Their muffled voices were barely audible over the distance. The scrape of plastic on the laminate could be heard as she picked up the phone again.

“He said we’ll come get you in about an hour if that’s okay?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see ya in a little bit, okay sweetie.”

“Okay, bye, Y/N”

“Bye Amy”

Placing the phone back in its spot you went to deal with the load of laundry that was likely finished spinning by now. You took your favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt from the washer and put them into the dryer along with a pair of underwear and a bra. As the dryer began to tumble you hung the rest of your clothes on hangers around the room to let them air dry. This would ensure the clothes you needed would actually be ready to go in time.

Deciding a quick shower was a good idea you made your way to the bathroom, picking up a towel and washcloth from the cabinet in the hall just before you reached the room. Locking the door behind you, you set your towels on the counter in front of you before turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. The water steamed with heat as it reached the near scalding temp you desired. Letting your dirty clothes fall in a heap next to the toilet, you tested the water with one hand before stepping under the stream. The water felt amazing on your tight muscles, and slowly but surely your body relaxed. There wasn’t much in the way of shower products left for you to use, but a partial bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo sat on the ledge inside the shower, and it would have to do its job as a true multi-tasker, taking on the role of shampoo, conditioner and body wash.

Before long you could feel the water running cool causing an abrupt end to your shower because you knew in just a few seconds time the water would go from tepid to frigid. Turning the water off, you reached out for the towel, using it to dry your body before stepping out of the shower onto the threadbare run on the floor. With your body dry, you wrapped your hair in the towel. Internally you wished you had brought another towel with you into the bathroom that you could have used for your body, but hindsight is 20/20.

The ding of the dryer could be heard as you left the bathroom. The clothes were nice and warm as you put them on your body. The warm fabric of the long sleeve shirt and jeans felt glorious as they slid over your scar-littered skin. Checking your phone, it appeared as though you had just enough time to fix your hair before one of the Abbotts would be here to get you. Running a brush through the wet strands, your hands fell into their old habit of braiding before a competition. Piece by piece you created two french braids, tying each off with clear elastics you’d dug from the depths of your desk. Knocking on the door reverberated through the air as you rapidly grabbed your phone and hustled your way to the door. You halted in your steps just before reaching the door, a feeling of fear flashed through you. Turning on your heels you beelined for the kitchen to take a peak out the window. Next to your truck sat Perry’s, a deep breath released from your lungs at the sight of his vehicle. Everything was okay.

Boots on and keys in hand, you opened the door to find Amy and Perry waiting for you. To be more exact, Perry was leaning up against one of the pillars running along the front of the house, while Amy kicked at the loose gravel in the driveway. Her hair was still pulled back in the braids you placed there the night before. She was dressed in a pair of tattered jeans and a blue hoodie with white stars.

Amy noticed you first and bolted towards you with all the energy she could muster. Her thin frame slammed into you as she bear-hugged you as hard as she could.

“Y/N!”

“Hey, baby bug!” Air rushed from your lungs on impact. Letting yourself really enjoy the hug, you swung her from side to side as she continued to cling to you.

“You girls ready.” Perry waited until the two of you had separated to speak. The dark purple under his eyes was a sure sign that sleep had yet again eluded him.

“Yeah, Let’s get goin’. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“No worries.”

The three of you walked back to the truck together, Perry in the lead followed by Amy and then you. Reaching the vehicle you helped Amy hop up into her seat before getting yourself into the truck. You and Amy chatted all the way back to the ranch about anything and everything that popped into the little girl’s mind.

Pulling into the driveway, you could see Rhett working on the truck. His face scrunched in concentration as he bent low over the engine. Amy was practically crawling over the top of you to get out of the truck. Her feet had barely hit the ground when she took off running towards her uncle!

“Uncle Rhett! Look who’s here for movie night!.” Amy gestured wildly in your direction as you stood leaning against the hood of Perry’s truck. You gave a little wave to the pair as Amy continued on.

“You’ve gotta watch the movie with us!” She tugged at Rhett’s arm, trying to pry him away from his task.

“Amy I-”

“Come on Uncle Rhett, you promised.” She pouted slightly giving Rhett the best use of puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. Rhett inhaled deeply as he wiped his hand with the cloth he’d set on the edge of the bumper. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips at his niece’s persuasiveness.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Placing his hand on the center of Amy’s back he guided her in the direction of the house.

In your peripheral vision, you could see Perry come stand next to you, both of you stood just watching Rhett and Amy.

“How are you doing?… an’ don’t bullshit me.” You huffed out a breathy laugh, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t even know Per.” Tears prickled at your eyes as you continued on, “I mean… I’m not even sure I have the right to be upset…I was the one who left him behind.” You weren’t sure who you were talking about really, your dad or Rhett because that feeling held true for both.

“You need to talk to him Y/N. He deserves that much.”

“I don’t even know what I would say.”

“I don’t either, but you’ve gotta do it. You broke him Y/N.”

“I can’t do it-” your voice was wet as your throat filled with emotion.

“Yeah, you can-”

“Perry, you don’t understand.” Your breath shook as you inhaled. “If I tell him… he’s gonna hate me even more than he already does. And I can’t handle that.”

Perry reached for you, holding you by the shoulders and turning you to face him. His eyes flicked over your face, his stomach clenching as he saw the real fear and pain in your eyes. He didn’t know what you’d been through during your time away, but it was clear your demons were clawing just below the surface, waiting to tear out.

“Y/N, listen to me. I know I’m not your blood, but I know you and Rhett better than just about anyone. And hear me when I say this, there is no amount of shit that you’ve done…that you’ve lived through, that could possibly scare him or any of us away. And I can guarantee you this, we’ll be here when you’re ready to talk. Yeah?”

The tension in your chest prevented you from speaking, but a small nod of your head was enough to satisfy Perry. His strong arms pulled you tight against his chest for a minute. Pulling back he kept his hands on your shoulders rubbing at your upper arms as he spoke, “Promise me you’ll talk to him Y/N. He needs to know.”

You shook your head yes quickly as you cleared your throat.

“Good. Now we better get our asses inside or Amy’ll be back out here dragging us in by our sleeves.”

“Speak of the Devil.” You gestured towards the front porch where Amy now stood yelling at you both.

“Come on guys! Grandma’s got the TV all ready to go!”

#rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #outer range #perry abbott #lewis pullman

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