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daydreamgoddess14 · 21 days ago

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Backseat Driver pt. 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes is reluctantly running for Congress with the financial and political backing of Pepper Potts. Everything is under control until she assigns him a driver. A very chatty, overly enthusiastic, playlist-addicted driver who seems determined to worm her way past his hundred-yard emotional perimeter. He hates the arrangement. Until he really doesn’t.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,800 (might've gotten so carried away I actually broke Tumblr and couldn't post the whole fic in one post.... so I feel like that deserves some kind of award 🤭, part 2 will post tomorrow)

Warnings/Tags/Info: No use of y/n, l/n, reader is described as female. I have literally no idea whatsoever the process involved in running for Congress or being a Congressperson. Expect grumpy!Bucky, sunshine!Reader, fluff, Sam being the most glorious human ever, Pepper Potts continuing to be a badass.... Ummm... I can't think of anything else to warn you of? Enjoy! 🩷

“I don't need a driver.”

“You're not driving yourself anymore.”

“The hell I'm not, this might have been your stupid idea, but it doesn't make me your little pet.”

“James,” Pepper Potts said smoothly (that’s when he knew he’d pissed her off), “you'd know if you were my pet. Now shoo. The car is downstairs along with your driver. Do not keep them waiting.”

Conversation over, apparently. He waited, just a little longer. Just long enough for her to sigh and pointedly not look at him. Just long enough to let her know that he owed her nothing.

If anything, he was the one doing her a favour. And a big one, at that.

“Congressman Barnes -”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm gone.”

He didn't close the door behind him.

Another small act of defiance.

The elevator ride felt like an eternity. He stepped out into the heavily guarded parking level, the security guard nodded in his direction, and pointed to a sleek, top spec Range Rover with blacked out windows.

She leaned over the bonnet, scribbling into a notepad. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned abruptly.

“Congressman, hi -” she began, holding out her hand.

He didn’t take it. “You’re my driver?”

“I am,” she said cautiously, waiting for him to interrupt again. “Ready to go?”

He didn’t respond.

Vibranium clinked dully against the metal of the car door.

“Uhh, that’s my seat?” She said, her lips pinched to hide her smile.

He left the driver door wide open and moved to the rear door instead, sliding into the car without a word.

“Thanks!” She chirped, hopping up behind the wheel.

The seat automatically adjusted to her height. He watched the mirrors shift too, suiting her position.

She threw her notepad and phone onto the seat beside her. In the centre console, she’d wedged a water bottle and a half empty iced coffee.

“Can you even reach the pedals?” He couldn’t help asking.

“Good one, haven’t heard that before. Little ol’ me, great big hunk of a car… course I can reach. I have this poking stick, see - helps me push the pedals ‘cos my tiny legs just can’t do it -” she laughed.

“Right, I get it. You can reach.”

“Sure you’re done? Would you like to see my licence? Proof that I can drive stick? How about you jump out and make sure I can see over the steering wheel?”

He stared out of the window instead.

With a self-satisfied smirk, she watched him through the rear view mirror.

“Seatbelt on?” She asked.

“Are you always like this?”

“Yep. Now, any music requests?”

His frown deepened.

“Good, I don't want to hear them. Driver privileges. Hope you like 90s dance.” She waited until he'd caught her eye in the mirror, the horror crossing his face.

And then she winked.

The car roared to life. The V8 engine growled, low and powerful, but the smooth leather seats and plush interior barely shuddered. The tyres squeaked on the ramp and as the sounds of Faithless filled the vehicle, she pulled out into the steady stream of traffic.

The thumping beat reverberated through the speakers and the driver hummed along to the music, sneaking glances at the grumpy figure in the backseat.

Bucky's misery was obvious. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze fixed out the window, his jaw clenched.

The sound of the music was only broken by the occasional sound of him sighing deeply.

The humming grew louder until the track reached the chorus and the driver began singing along, full, off-key commitment.

Bucky couldn't help but grimace at her wildly out of tune efforts. She had to be doing this on purpose.

"Do you have to do that?" He asked shortly.

"Do what?" She called over the thumping bass.

"Can you turn it down?"

"Huh?"

"Turn. It. Down."

She reached for the volume dial. "What are you saying?"

"God, finally," he muttered. "Do you have to do that?" he asked.

"Do I have to do what?"

"Sing along? It's awful."

"Oh. Well... I just like to," she shrugged.

“But you can't sing. You're way off," he said bluntly, his tone flat.

She shrugged. “Isn't that part of the fun?”

“Says who?”

“Oh I love this one!” She said gleefully, ignoring his question and turning the volume dial up again, higher than previously. “Love life and laughter is all I believe…”

Ahead of them, the traffic slowed and Bucky watched with increasing alarm, his brows pinched together, as the driver bounced and shimmied in her seat to the beat of the music, her hands either waving enthusiastically or clutching her heart like the song had cracked her open.

“I feel your hands, your lips, the heat of your body

Whisper your love to me say that you love me

Please just love me down and never leave me,

I'm a dreamer-uh-uh-uhhhhh!”

“Kill me now,” he growled, yanking his phone from his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts and raised the phone to his ear.

"Yo man, I was just about to call you,” came Sam’s voice, already full of smug amusement.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I heard you got yourself a new ride?" Bucky rolled his eyes at the barely contained laughter in Sam’s tone.

"News travels fast," he grumbled, watching her continue to bop in her seat. Sam chuckled on the other end of the line, clearly amused by the situation.

"How's that going for you?"

“How’d you think?” Bucky hissed, “How’d you find out anyway?”

"Let's just say, my sources are always reliable," Sam replied cryptically.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide a small smirk. “Pepper just told you, right?”

“Bingo.”

“That figures," he said.

"Yeah, some of us have gotta be the grown ups around here,” Sam laughed. "So… you having fun?"

"I don't need a driver."

"A little louder, I don't think she heard you." Sam deadpanned.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “I don't need a driver," he repeated louder, making sure she heard this time.

“Pepper’s right, you’re a public figure now, man. You can’t just be tearing your motorcycle around like a feral cat.”

As Sam negotiated, the driver in question lifted her hand and flipped Bucky the middle finger.

Too busy flipping him off, she didn’t notice the traffic ahead slowing - and slammed the brakes hard.

Bucky lurched forward in the back seat, instinctively reaching out to brace himself, gripping the back of her seat.

"Oof, shit, sorry." She grimaced, easing to a more gentle stop behind the car in front.

He slumped back, indentations left in her headrest from the tight grip of his vibranium fingers.

He tried to play it cool, acting like he hadn't been caught off guard.

"Watch where you're going," he muttered, his voice gruff.

"Sorry," she said, her eyes still on the road ahead. "These idiots don't know how to drive. I'm pretty sure they're texting."

"You sure it's not your reckless driving that's the issue here?" Bucky retorted.

He went back to his call before she could respond.

"I gotta go, I'm on my way to a meeting,” he told Sam, barely holding back a growl. “Y’know, if my damn driver can get me there in one piece. I should probably read the notes before I go in."

"Enjoy the drive buddy, see you later," Sam cackled as Bucky ended the call with a sharp tap.

He leaned back in his seat, glowering out the window as the city whizzed by outside.

"You don't have to look so miserable," the driver said, her voice cutting through their uncomfortable silence.

Bucky didn't respond, his gaze still fixed on the city outside.

She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness.

“Honestly, it's not the end of the world, having someone drive you around. You get more work done, you get to listen to my excellent music -”

"We're not talking about this," he muttered, opening the files he'd put on the seat next to him. “I'm sorting this out with Potts, your assignment will be over by the end of the day.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

They lapsed into a kind of truce, the radio mercifully turned down and the driver still singing along at a more acceptable volume.

Her singing was the only nagging reminder that she was there. He tried to ignore her and focus on the files in front of him, but his concentration kept getting derailed by her off-key humming.

"Can you stop that?" he snapped suddenly, surprising even himself.

"Youuu got it," she said quietly, falling silent at last.

Her smile faltered for the first time, just long enough for Bucky to notice.

A quiet sense of relief washed over him, but then, after a few moments an uneasy feeling settled over him.

The quiet was too stifling.

Without the white noise he found himself hyper-aware of her presence.

He could now hear the rhythm of her breathing, the squeak of the leather steering wheel beneath her grip. He could hear the steady drum of her heart, a few beats quicker than a resting rhythm.

His focus sharpened on the sound of her pulse.

He wondered what could be causing her heart rate to increase. Was she nervous? Excited?

He snuck a glance at her, taking in the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled, the quick exhale.

Before he could ask, she brought the car to a smooth stop outside a towering building.

"Here we go, first stop. I'll be here whenever you're ready to move on." She said softly.

Bucky collected his notes from the seat and shoved them into the leather messenger back that rested on his lap.

He exited the car without a word, taking a moment to take in the impressive building before him. Behind him, he heard her window glide down, the tinny motor sound imperceptible to most ears.

“Thank you,” she prompted him with a grin.

“Yeah,” he acknowledged without turning around. “Thanks.”

He didn’t turn back until he got to the revolving doors of the building, by which point he could see her huddled over her notepad once again.

As if feeling his stare, she turned to the doors and smiled brightly, waving in his direction.

He ignored her.

~~~~

His meeting dragged on for over two hours. Irritation and fatigue picked at his brain and made his eyes itch. He felt dehydrated, hungry, and by the time he finally stepped out into the sunlight, his stomach rumbled in time with the traffic.

Out front, the Range Rover sat proudly - exactly where he’d left it.

Or rather, where he’d been left.

He could see her, either talking on the phone or - more likely - singing along to the radio.

He wondered if she’d even moved for the last two hours.

Seeing him on the sidewalk, she jumped out of the car and opened the rear door for him. Further along the seat, the drinks holder had been pulled down and inside sat a large bottle of water and a tightly wrapped foil… something.

“What’s that?”

“Figured you’d be hungry. And thirsty.” She shrugged, closing the door behind him before he could respond. She slipped into her own seat and turned the ignition.

He could feel her snatching glances at him in the rearview mirror while he carefully peeled back the foil on what turned out to be a still warm burrito.

“What?” He asked warily through a mouthful of food.

“Don't talk with your mouth full. It's not becoming of a Congressman.” She teased.

“Not a Congressman yet, doll.” He sneered.

She pulled out into the stream of traffic into a gap he'd only have taken on his motorcycle. The car behind flashed its lights in annoyance but she just flicked her hazards on and off in thanks. Over the sound of her music, the GPS announced a delay ahead.

“We're gonna be late,” he complained.

“Have a little faith, please.” She grinned and took the next left, ignoring the directions on her phone. Twenty minutes later, her passenger fed and watered, and the traffic defeated, she pulled up at their next stop.

Early.

“Shall I say I told you so now, or save it for later in case any more rack up?”

“How about you don't say anything?”

“Not going to happen. Enjoy your meeting, I'll be right here.”

He hesitated before getting out of the car. “You know, you didn’t have to…” he started quietly.

“I wanted to.”

And that was it.

Every day when he stepped out of his house, the car was parked up and waiting for him. And every day, the music was too loud, she talked too fast, too much and drove the Range Rover like she'd stolen it.

Every day he threatened to fire her. And every day Pepper Potts told him to get his head out of his ass.

A week into his enforced new staff member’s tenure, he text her.

Corner of Grattan and Bogart. Don’t be late.

Sam was in Washington heading north and had suggested meeting him part way. He picked up two coffees and waited for her, his baseball cap pulled low.

He wasn’t scrolling his phone.

He wasn’t really doing anything.

Just sitting.

Waiting.

When he heard the low purr of the Range Rover pulling up, he stood. One coffee in each hand. She rolled down the window.

“You know it's Saturday?”

“What, no dramatic music this time?” he asked.

“It's soul Saturday, I thought I'd wait for you.” she grinned. “You want in or are you just here to judge my taste again?”

He climbed in and handed her the drink without saying anything.

She looked at it. Then at him.

“…You got my order right,” she said, half-suspicious. “How?”

“You’ve ordered it three times already this week,” he shrugged, like it was no big deal. “I have ears.”

She looked down at the cup. Her name was scribbled across the side. In his handwriting.

She smiled softly.

Bucky stared straight ahead, pretending to study the road. She pulled away from the curb without saying another word, but the silence between them this time wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was familiar.

“So, where to?”

“Jersey, gonna collect my bike from the shop and meet Sam.”

“So this is a one way trip? And you couldn't just… jump on the train?”

“Potts said no.”

“Oh, and you always do as you're told,” she scoffed.

“Occasionally, when it suits.”

She yawned into her coffee and fell silent again. “I mean, I probably wouldn't cross Pepper either.” She admitted after a while, before treating him to her singing once more.

~~~~

Days later, with the sun dipped low enough to cast a golden wash across the buildings, traffic was thick, and for once she wasn’t weaving like a maniac.

The music was low, piano versions of recognisable songs. Bucky had his eyes closed, head tilted slightly back against the seat. He wasn’t asleep.

He never really let himself sleep while he was on the move.

“Rough day?” She asked softly.

He didn't answer right away.

“It’s always a rough day.”

“You still showed up. That counts for something.”

He opened his eyes and glanced at her in the mirror.

“I’m bored,” she said suddenly.

He arched an eyebrow.

“Then maybe pay attention to the road,” he muttered.

“I am paying attention. I’m also multitasking.”

He exhaled through his nose. A smirk, barely there.

“You want to pick the next song?” she asked casually.

He frowned. “What?”

“Music. You know? You can be DJ.”

“I don’t… I don’t really know what I like.”

She blinked. “You don’t like music?”

“I didn’t say that.” He looked out the window again. “I just haven’t had a lot of… say. In what I hear.”

There was something in his voice, flat, but not dismissive. It suggested years of noise he hadn’t chosen.

Propaganda. Orders. Guns. Screams. Silence.

She swallowed, nodding slowly.

“Well,” she said after a second. “Let’s fix that.”

She handed him her phone, unlocked and open to her music app. “Pick anything. Go on.”

He held it like it might bite him.

“Not gonna lie to you,” he said dryly. “This feels like a trap.”

She laughed, not mocking, just easy and warm. “Worst case scenario, you pick something awful and I throw us into oncoming traffic.”

“Fair. What classes as awful?”

“Let's find out, shall we?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

He scrolled hesitantly, his thumb moving slowly, like he was trying not to break anything.

Finally, he tapped something.

A slow, smoky jazz guitar slid through the speakers. She looked at him in surprise. “You just… picked that out of nowhere?”

“I didn’t just pick it.” He didn’t look at her. “I have been trying to adjust for the last few years. Sam's thrown a few suggestions my way.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while.

“…Not bad,” she murmured eventually.

His mouth quirked, just barely. “Yeah.”

She stopped the car outside his house.

“Get some rest, Congressman. You look like you need it.”

“Thanks, so I look like shit?”

She laughed sharply. “Yeah, right. As if. Look, it may not feel like it, but you’re making a difference.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He nodded tiredly and stepped out of the car.

At the top of the steps, he turned, noting that she always waited for him to go inside before she left.

It didn't stop him from checking that she was still there.

~~~~

The events, meetings, townhalls, meet and greets were beginning to blur.

He stepped out of the building, tie loosened, shoulders tight. The black Range Rover was already parked across the street, perfectly aligned in a no-standing zone, hazard lights blinking innocently.

She leaned casually against the side of the car, sunglasses perched on her head, sipping an iced coffee with more espresso shots than he dared think about.

“You’re early,” he grunted as he slid into the backseat.

“I’m always early,” she said brightly, climbing into the driver’s seat. “What, you just think I appear like magic?”

He didn’t respond, but she caught the faint twitch of his mouth in the mirror.

Close enough to a smile.

As she pulled into traffic, he noticed they weren’t heading in the usual direction. “You missed the turn.”

“Not going home yet. I’ve got one more stop and then I have instructions to take you to Pepper.”

His jaw tightened. “You have another pickup?”

“Yup.”

“Oh,” he said, trying and failing to sound unaffected. “Didn’t realise you chauffeured other people.”

“Although you're technically my only client, and the most dramatic, I'm doing her a favour,” she said, clearly amused.

He didn’t answer.

Just sat there, seething quietly at the idea of her smiling and chatting with someone else the way she did with him.

Someone younger. Cooler.

Probably not traumatised and 100 years out of place.

The Range Rover coasted to a stop in front of a sleek private school entrance. She unbuckled her seatbelt and twisted to glance at him.

“Back in five. Try not to melt in the leather.”

He grunted, but watched her go.

It wasn’t a man. Not even another client, not in the way he thought.

A moment later, she returned with a kid practically bouncing alongside her. The girl looked up at her with absolute adoration, and she responded with a warmth Bucky hadn’t seen before.

She walked the girl, Morgan, (it clicked a second later) back to the car and opened the rear door.

“You remember the Congressman,” she said by way of introduction.

Morgan clambered in without hesitation, sliding across the backseat until she plopped down beside him like they were old carpool buddies.

“Hi,” she said, pulling her seatbelt across. “You look less mad than last time I saw you.”

Bucky blinked. “Uhh… hi.”

She looked up at him, curious. “You still mad about her?”

He glanced toward the front, where the driver was watching them in the mirror with raised brows.

“...No,” he muttered. “She’s fine.”

“I know,” Morgan said matter-of-factly. “She makes the best lunchbox snacks. Sometimes she lets me drive in the driveway if Mom’s not home.”

“Don’t say that in front of people,” the driver said quickly, tossing her a warning glance.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. “Anyway, Mom said you were mad that she made you get a driver, and I said -”

The driver was hiding a smile now, fiddling with the GPS. “Alright, kiddo, seatbelt on?” She interrupted, “Get on with your homework, stop bothering Congressman Grumpypants.”

As they pulled away from the school, Bucky sat back. The heat of his earlier jealousy had died off, leaving him embarrassed.

He'd been jealous of a kid.

Not just any kid, Morgan Stark.

Morgan rolled her eyes and pulled a tablet out of her backpack, popping in earbuds and disappearing into whatever assignments awaited her.

He didn’t know what the hell was happening between him and the woman in the front seat. But it was starting to get harder to pretend he didn’t care.

At the office, Pepper Potts was exactly where he expected her to be, half-glancing at a screen floating in midair, tapping on her phone, eyes flicking up to meet his with a sharp, calm kind of clarity that always unnerved him.

“You’re early,” she said, without looking at the time. “That’s rare.”

“I wasn’t driving,” Bucky replied dryly.

That got him the faintest smirk. She waved a hand and the screen blinked away.

“She’s good,” he said, casually. Too casually.

Pepper tilted her head. “Morgan?”

“…Your driver.”

“Ah.”

He scratched his jaw, suddenly feeling defensive for even bringing it up.

“I didn’t know you were hiring clowns,” he added, trying to sound annoyed, but the words lacked his usual bite. “She talks a lot. More than Sam, and that's… a lot.”

“She does,” Pepper agreed smoothly.

“Where’d you find her?”

“Hmm?”

“The driver.”

“Why?”

“Just curious.” He tried to sound disinterested. Neutral.

He failed miserably.

Pepper gave him a slow, knowing look.

“You never ask about people, Bucky. Ever.”

“She’s… unusual,” he muttered.

“Unusual how?”

“Drives like she’s in a Fast and Furious movie. Listens to the worst music I’ve ever heard. Talks too much.”

“But you’re still in one piece.”

“Barely.”

Pepper smiled. “You could’ve just said you liked her.”

His eyes flicked up. Sharp. “Didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He scowled. “This isn’t… I just wanted to know where you found her.”

“She interned with us a few years ago. Logistics. She's smart. Too mouthy for upper management though. Too good for it, in all honesty. She freelanced security logistics for a while, specialising in VIP movement, crisis response. Tony would’ve liked her.”

Bucky blinked. “Wait, she’s trained?”

“Extensively. Don’t let the coffee cups and dancing fool you.”

He blinked again.

It clicked. How she always had them out of tight traffic. How she knew exactly when to pull up, when to back off. How she always parked near exits without seeming to think about it.

He felt a little stupid, honestly.

Pepper watched him closely. “She knows what she’s doing. And before you ask, no, I didn’t pick her to annoy you. That's just an added bonus.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She grinned again.

He shifted his weight. “She ever drive for someone else?”

“Not like this. You’re the first.”

That meant more than it should’ve.

Pepper leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “Why don’t you just ask her these things yourself?”

He looked away. Jaw tight. “Not my business.”

She smiled gently. “You’re wrong, Bucky. It is your business. She’s in your life now, whether you like it or not.”

He didn’t answer.

Pepper didn’t push.

“Go home,” she said finally, turning her attention back to her screen. “And don’t fire her. You’d regret it.”

He looked incredulous, then it dawned on him.

“She tells me you threaten to fire her every day.” Pepper arched an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t really going to -” he started, then stopped. “…Whatever.”

He left without saying goodnight.

~~~~

The event had gone better than he’d expected.

A few speeches. Awkward handshakes.

But people had listened. Some had nodded. A few had smiled. He could handle that.

It was easier when they wanted to be there to listen to him. He found it much harder convincing people who'd already made up their minds to dislike him.

What he couldn’t handle was the crowd waiting outside.

Photographers. Reporters. Bright flashes already popping the second the door opened.

His chest tightened immediately. He knew this feeling, It started in his hands - both of them.

Tight, twitchy, like even the coils and springs in his metal arm were tightening.

Then his jaw, clenching so hard his teeth ached. He froze in the doorway, half in shadow, half in the spotlight.

Too many faces. Too many voices, all shouting his name.

Winter Soldier!

Congressman Barnes!

Are the rumors true? Are you stepping down?

Smile for us, sweetheart!

That was a new one - they didn't usually call him sweetheart. He realised why.

That last one wasn’t even aimed at him, it was aimed at her. Parting the boisterous group like the red sea. Appearing before him, still and quiet.

And somehow, that broke the spell.

Before the tension could boil over, before he could even think about turning around and bolting, she stepped forward. Like it was nothing.

She slid into the space beside him, hand lightly brushing his arm, not grabbing, not controlling. Just grounding.

“You ok?” she murmured, almost under her breath.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t flinch either.

“Sorry folks,” she called sweetly. “Congressman Barnes is late for a call with Captain America himself. No time for pictures.”

Someone tried to shout over her. She cut them off without raising her voice.

“And no further questions,” she glared.

He didn’t say a word until they were both back inside the car, the Range Rover felt like a little island of peace in the chaos.

She didn’t turn the music on. Didn’t start the car. Just looked at him.

“Better?”

He nodded stiffly, trying to force his pulse back under control.

“…Thanks,” he muttered eventually.

“Any time. I'm calling Pepper, you need real security. This is getting ridiculous.”

“It's fine, I'm fine.” He insisted.

“No.” she said forcefully through gritted teeth once they were on the road. She sounded angrier than he'd ever heard her. “No. You don’t have to be bulletproof all the time.”

He didn't say anything, but he felt the comment land, however off-the-cuff she made it sound.

“And you actually do need to call Sam back,” she sighed. “That wasn't a lie. Any objections if I get us a little sugar rush?”

She was in the drive-thru for doughnuts before he could reach for his phone.

~~~~

She was unusually quiet when she picked him up the following day.

No radio. No singing. No bouncing in the seat.

Just a distracted hum of energy, like her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He climbed into the back as usual and settled in.

She fumbled slightly with the steering wheel, then sat still for a moment too long before starting the engine.

She didn’t even check the rearview to throw a quip his way. Something was off.

She drove in silence for about ten blocks before he spoke.

“...You good?”

She blinked. Glanced at him in the mirror. “Me? Yeah. Why?”

“You haven’t said a single annoying thing today.”

That made her snort, but there wasn’t much force behind it. “Wow. That worried you?”

He shrugged, looking back down at the folder in his lap. “Not really. Just weird when things are quiet.”

She didn’t answer. They drove another block. Then he cleared his throat.

“I, uhh, got something,” he said awkwardly, reaching into his jacket. “For the… silence.”

He handed her a small, beat-up flash drive.

She frowned. “What’s this?”

“I made you a playlist.”

She blinked, stopped the car at the red light and fully turned to look at him. “You… what?”

“Songs you’ve played. Stuff I caught. Things you like. That dance crap. Some other stuff too.”

“…You made me a mix?”

He shifted, looking suddenly very interested in the pattern of stitching on the car door. “Don’t make it weird.”

She stared at the flash drive like it might spontaneously combust.

The car behind them honked, making her jump. She eased the car into gear and set back off, then carefully, slotted the drive into the dash and started skipping through the tracks.

The car filled with familiar sounds. Her favourites, blended with a few odd choices that had to be his.

Jazz. Old-school rock. One or two that made her laugh. The Supremes, show tunes, K-Pop…

“I can’t believe you did this,” she murmured.

“Don’t make it a thing.”

“It’s definitely a thing,” she whispered, half-dazed.

And for a few miles, she forgot to drive like a maniac. Forgot whatever had been bothering her.

He kept seeing her in the mirror, like she was waiting for him to say something disdainful.

But he didn't. He didn’t look smug. He looked quietly proud. Like it had been worth the effort, just to see her stunned into silence for once.

By the time they reached his next appointment, she was singing along again.

~~~~

The evening events were the worst. The events where spouses attended and made him look painfully single.

His driver had delivered him home, shoved a Prada suit bag into his hand and told him she'd wait outside.

“You could just wait in there,” he waved vaguely toward the front door.

“Ha! No, god no that's weird. I'll be here.” She shooed him into the house, “go on, hurry up, you have thirty minutes.”

Forty minutes later he was battling with his bow tie.

“Up and then under,” Sam said, his voice muffled by his hands covering his face. “No that bit goes round -”

“Round where?” Bucky turned to where he'd leaned the phone so Sam could see.

“Man, please go and get in that damn car. Your driver will tie it for you.”

“I need to learn…”

“You don't have time, you gotta get movin’. I'll send you a YouTube video later.”

“YouTube? C'mon, man -”

“Buck, so help me I will kill you if you don't get in that car. If Pepper gets on to me ‘cause you're late, I will throw you under that bus.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too buddy.”

The faint beep of the handset let him know that Sam had hung up. By the time he made it outside, she was pacing by the car.

“Jeez, thought you'd gotten lost! What took you so long? Pepper is blowing up my phone,” she wheeled on him, scowling, but stopped immediately on sight.

“You any good with a bow tie?”

She stepped closer and took it from him. Her hands fluttered nervously but she looped the tie around his neck and used it to drag him a little closer to her height.

“You ok?” He asked. “You were about ready to kill me but you stopped?”

“Fine, totally fine.” She tied the knot carefully and tucked the band under his collar. She stepped back after tying the knot, brushing her fingertips along the edge of his collar like she couldn’t quite stop herself.

He caught the way her hands hovered for a second too long, like she’d forgotten what they were supposed to do.

“There,” she said, voice a little quieter than before. “You’ll do.”

He didn’t move. Just watched her. Her eyes flicked to the side like she was desperate to be anywhere else.

“What?” she asked.

“I told you, you were scowling. Then I walked out, and you just… stopped. Like you forgot to be mad.”

She rolled her eyes, but her voice was softer now. “You're being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he asked, stepping just a little closer.

Her breath hitched, just barely, but he heard it.

“Are you worried?” He asked. “About Pepper being mad?”

“No, of course not.”

“You don't have to be.”

“I'm not.” She looked up at him then, and there was something in her expression he couldn’t place. He squinted at her.

“Then what?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Instead, she turned on her heel and yanked open the car door.

“Bucky, just… just get in before Pepper has both our heads.”

The silence that filled the car was different this time. Not the usual, comfortable quiet they’d eased into over the last few weeks.

This was charged.

He didn’t say anything. He wasn't sure he trusted himself.

When she finally pulled up to the event, she shifted into park and twisted to look at him.

He leaned forward instinctively.

Her eyes dropped to his lips for a split second.

“You never call me Bucky,” he said, voice low.

“I didn’t mean to,” she said, just above a whisper. “It just… slipped.”

“Yeah?”

She didn’t reply, she stayed frozen, eyes on his, like something might snap between them if either of them breathed too hard.

And then…

The rear door opened abruptly, and a polite young valet with the worst timing beamed in at him.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re ready for you inside.”

Bucky stared straight ahead, past the driver, jaw clenched. A breath passed before he looked back at her. She hadn't moved.

“Enjoy the party,” she said, neutralising her expression and making her voice light and even.

He stepped out of the car, bow tie neat, posture perfect. But his hands were still shaking.

He hated these kinds of parties on a good day. There were always too many people pretending not to be watching him.

But tonight was worse. He couldn’t stop replaying that moment in the car. The way she’d looked at him. The quiet inhale. The feel of her fingers at his collar.

He was halfway through a conversation with some city councilman when he realised he hadn’t heard a word of it.

“Earth to Barnes.”

He turned to find Pepper raising a perfectly groomed brow, two champagne flutes in hand.

“You’re a million miles away,” she said, handing him one. “Did I miss a memo?”

He cleared his throat and took the drink. “Just... tired.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying it.

Her eyes flicked toward the entrance. “Your driver peeled out of here like someone was chasing her… know anything about that?”

His grip on the flute tightened so hard he could hear the faintest crack. He downed the contents quickly and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter.

“I think there's a tiny crack in that glass,” he told them before turning back to Pepper. “She did?”

“She did,” Pepper said dryly. “I hope you're not upsetting her.”

He didn’t answer.

PART 2

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greenxgloss · 2 months ago

Note

Im new to Tumblr and took me an eternity to find the freaking ask button! *clears throat* anyway!

Can I please request a fix where you’ve been an solo idol for about 3 to five years now and you really found success so naturelly you buy a new house so you throw a house worming party with your idol friends including your Hybe friends but Yoongi can not keep his hands of you cause of your outfit so you snuck of to somewhere In the house and well you know… no need for smit if you don’t like! And you where teased the rest of the night lol. And maybe during the dinner part of the soirée your friends threatened to leak your embarrassing pictures if you don’t release an album soon. You can be as creative as you’d like if your up for it haha

Side note: you let Yoongi after you debut at a Hybe artist reunion party.

I know this might be alog

Youd be surpised how long it took me to understand how tumblr works and I'm still figuring shit out after being on here for years dw bby. thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy reading xoxo

Summary: At your housewarming party, Yoongi's lingering touches and heated gaze reignite a long-simmering attraction between you, pushing your teasing friendship to its breaking point. With the music and laughter of your friends just outside the door, you surrender to the tension, finally giving in to the desire that had always simmered beneath the surface. Themes: Flirtatious!Yoongi x Clueless!Reader, SoftDom!Yoongi, Smut, F!Reader, F oral receiver, Drunk characters, mention of alcohol, little tiny bit of comedy and slight peer pressure but in a funny way. Word Count: 4k

The bass from the speakers pulsed through the walls, a steady rhythm that matched the excitement buzzing in the air. Your housewarming party was in full swing—idol friends scattered across your new home, drinks in hand, laughter spilling into every corner. The success of your solo career had allowed you to upgrade to a place like this, and tonight was all about celebrating.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting your pearlecent butterfly top and smoothing out the pockets of your low-rise flared jeans. With a spin, you glanced back at the sweet embroidered design on the back pockets and smiled at your reflection.

You had spent weeks planning everything—down to the smallest detail—ensuring the night would be as perfect as your career had been these past few years. But as much as you wanted to enjoy yourself, it was becoming increasingly difficult under Yoongi’s burning gaze.

From the moment you opened the door to welcome your HYBE friends, his eyes had been locked on you. The outfit you’d chosen—The butterfly top in specific was very revealing—It had been a bold choice, but you hadn't expected this level of distraction. Every time you moved, every time you leaned over to refill a glass or turned to laugh at something someone said, you could feel Yoongi’s presence like a magnet, pulling you in. Your back was fully exposed and your cleavage on full display. The glitter sprayed over your chest, complimenting the chrome pearls around your neck and the matching ones hanging from your ears.

You had met him early on, back when you were still just a trainee—wide-eyed, hungry for success, and eager to prove yourself. It was during those long, exhausting practice days that you first crossed paths with Bangtan, their presence in the building a constant reminder of the level of success you were striving toward. They were already established- legends in the making, but despite the difference in status, they treated you kindly. Yoongi, in particular, had always caught your attention.

From the beginning, there was something effortless about the way the two of you interacted. Your conversations were laced with playful teasing, subtle touches, and lingering eye contact that hinted at something more. The attraction was always there, simmering just beneath the surface, but nothing ever came of it. Timing was never in your favor—he was busy with his career, and you were too focused on building your own name to entertain the thought of something serious. So, instead, you settled into a dynamic that felt safe: a flirty friendship that never quite crossed the line.

Until tonight.

It started with the small things—his hand resting a second too long on the small of your back as he passed by, his breath ghosting over your ear when he leaned in to speak, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. You tried to ignore it, pretend like it wasn’t sending heat through your veins, but the knowing smirk on his face told you he could see right through you.

And then, you snapped.

The second you found an opening and everyone was distracted and consumed by the loud music, you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and subtly pulled him away from the main party, slipping down a hallway where the music faded into the background. He barely had time to question it before you were on him, pressing him against the wall with a teasing smirk.

Yoongi’s gaze traveled down from your eyes to your cleavage, and he began smiling, tongue clamped between his teeth.

“Whats with you tonight?” you asked in a whisper, looking over your shoulder, down the hall toward the party.

“You just look so good tonight; you’re making it really hard to be a gentleman.” he gulped, looking back up into your eyes. You scoffed playfully in return. “You’re such a pervert,” you giggled, grabbing his arm and pulling him into your room.

Yoongi chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending shivers down your spine as he bit his lip, eyes dark with want. He reached behind him, blindly pushing the door shut before his hands found their place on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, wrapped around you like a haze.

“You dressed so—fuck," he rasped, his voice low and strained, breath fanning against your ear. "You practically have your tits out, and you expected me to just act normal?”

His words sent heat rushing through you, pooling deep in your stomach as his hands roamed your exposed skin, fingertips skimming over the curve of your hips, down your sides, up your back. His touch was slow, teasing, like he was savoring every inch of you. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, lips brushing against your pulse point before pressing open-mouthed kisses there, sucking lightly, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Shit—Yoongi,” you whined, his name slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Your fingers instinctively tangled into his hair, twisting and pulling, eliciting a low groan from him. His grip on your hips tightened in response, his body pressing even closer to yours as he guided you backward, step by step, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

A delicious shiver shot up your spine, settling in your head like a drug. Your breath hitched as Yoongi pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“Mmh,” he hummed, his voice dripping with need. "I wanna hear you say my name like that again.”

Yoongi kissed your lips with hunger, lowering you down on the bed gently. He pulled away to unbutton his jeans.

A loud noise could be heard from outside causing you and Youngi to snap your attention toward the door. Your stomach sank.

“Fuck sake, kook.” you heard jimin cuss at Jungkook, probably picking his drunk bones off the ground and walk him to the bathroom.

You glanced back up at Yoongi, catching his gaze just as he turned toward you. The moment your eyes met, laughter bubbled up between you, a shared understanding passing between the two of you without a single word.

“God, they’re so annoying,” Yoongi groaned, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. “My heart is pounding.” His chuckle was warm, breathless, as if the weight of the possibility of being walked in on had begun fading away.

Before you could respond, he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Wait, what are you—”

“Doesn’t look like I’ll have time for more than a drink,” he murmured, voice thick with something sinful as his fingers found the button of your jeans.

Your breath hitched as he expertly popped it open, the slow, deliberate way he peeled the denim down your thighs making your skin prickle with anticipation. The cool air of the room kissed your now-exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine. And then, his eyes darkened—his playful smirk faltering for just a second as his gaze fell to the light blue G-string hugging your hips, the darkened patch of fabric giving away just how much you wanted him.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his brows twitching as if he was physically restraining himself. “That’s just amazing,” he breathed out, his voice tinged with an almost reverent chuckle.

Your stomach clenched at his words, the intensity of his stare making you feel bare in ways that had nothing to do with clothing. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core, thighs instinctively pressing together. The whole situation had you weak—your voice caught in your throat, words completely failing you.

“All I did was touch you,” he mused, amusement dancing in his tone. “And you’re already like this?”

Your face burned, and a nervous scoff left your lips as you averted your gaze. “That’s embarrassing,” you muttered, fingers twitching against the bedsheets.

Yoongi, however, was having none of it. His hands slid up your thighs, warm and grounding, his touch sending a new wave of electricity through your veins. “No. What? I love it,” he said, voice still soft but firm. “You need me just as much as I need you.”

The way his words curled around you, the way they soaked into your skin and settled deep inside your chest—it was intoxicating. It wasn’t just what he said but how he said it. His voice, laced with something raw and unfiltered, sent a rush of heat flooding through your body, a warmth that spread like the first shot of tequila you’d taken earlier that night.

“Yoongi,” you whined, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your body acting on pure impulse as your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him up.

He let out a low chuckle, but the moment his lips met yours, the teasing melted into something deeper. He smiled against your mouth, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss was slow, lingering—like he was savoring the taste of you, the moment, the way you trembled in his hands.

Yoongi’s touch was electric, his palm warm as it pressed against your chest, fingers expertly kneading the soft flesh of your breast. A shiver coursed through you, your body responding instantly, a quiet moan slipping past your lips and into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss for just a moment longer before pulling away, his dark eyes flickering with something teasing, something hungry.

“That good?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, yet laced with something deeper—something that made your stomach clench and your legs press together involuntarily. His gaze was locked onto your face, drinking in every twitch of your features, every shallow breath as his hand trailed lower. The tips of his fingers danced over your stomach, feather-light and torturously slow, before reaching the delicate lace of your thong.

You nodded quickly, barely able to breathe, anticipation thick in the air. But Yoongi wasn’t satisfied with just that. His lips curled into a smirk as he bit down gently on his lower lip. “You’ve never had a problem using your words before,” he mused, his voice dropping an octave, a sultry rasp that sent heat shooting through your core.

His fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric, the heat of his touch making your breath hitch as he traced a slow, teasing line down your center. Your body betrayed you, hips jerking slightly at the sensation, your skin prickling with anticipation.

A whimper bubbled in your throat, but you swallowed it, your pride barely keeping you from giving him exactly what he wanted so easily. But he knew. He always knew.

Yoongi’s lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, his breath fanning over your skin as his fingers dipped lower, his teasing touch barely there. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he hummed, his voice smug, filled with satisfaction at the way you were unraveling under him.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, the sound almost deafening in your ears. Every nerve in your body was set ablaze, strung so tight that you thought you might snap at the slightest push. The air between you felt thick, charged, like a live wire sparking with tension. Yoongi was toying with you, reveling in the way your body trembled under his touch, in the way your lips parted but no words came out—only desperate little breaths, whimpers that he drank in like they were the sweetest sound in the world.

He was waiting. Waiting for you to break, to give in, to beg. To say his name in that way that made his self-control slip, in that way that had him coming undone right alongside you.

And God, you were so close.

Your pride clashed violently with your desperation, the last remnants of your restraint slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, your legs twitching as his fingers continued their slow, torturous path. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe through the heat suffocating your body, through the molten ache between your thighs.

"Please." The word barely left your lips, a whisper, a plea, laced with so much raw need that even you barely recognized your own voice.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his smirk deepening. He loved this. Loved seeing you like this—messy, desperate, completely at his mercy. "Please what, hmm?" he teased, voice low, dangerously smooth, yet thick with desire. His fingers slowed just enough to drive you insane, barely brushing against your clit in agonizing circles, the wet sounds filling the air between you. The sensation sent a new wave of heat flooding through you, burning from the inside out, making your thighs tremble around him.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in Yoongi’s chest at the sound, at the way you clenched around nothing, already so worked up just from his teasing. The sight of you—needy, eyes heavy with lust, lips swollen from kissing—had his own restraint hanging by a thread, heat stirring violently in his stomach, in his core, matching yours in intensity.

You let out a soft whimper, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, your own glazed over with want. "I need you. Please." Your voice cracked, your breath hitching as another slow stroke sent a shiver up your spine.

Yoongi’s smirk faltered for just a second, something darker flashing behind his eyes at your words, at the way you were completely unraveling beneath him. He licked his lips, letting his fingers dip lower just to watch you squirm.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice nothing more than a sultry whisper against your flushed skin. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he slowly slicked two fingers into your heat, thrusting them at a steady slow pace. He kept his eyes on your face, licking his lips.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, your body instinctively gripping him tighter with every curl, every slow, deliberate stroke. It was almost unbearable—the way he had you spread open, how his fingers pumped into you with a steady, unrelenting pace, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You were drenched, the wet sounds echoing in the room, mixing with your breathless whimpers and the occasional low groan from Yoongi.

You held onto his shoulder like a lifeline, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, needing something—anything—to ground yourself. Every sensation felt heightened, overwhelming. The heat between your thighs was suffocating, each movement pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew Yoongi could feel it. He could feel how tight you were, how your body clenched and trembled around him, desperate for more.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his voice a mix of restraint and admiration. His eyes flickered between your parted lips, your flushed cheeks, and the way you writhed under him. "Your pussy feels so good, so tight." His words sent another wave of heat washing over you, pooling in your stomach, making you whimper as he quickened his pace.

You could tell he was struggling to keep his composure. The way his jaw clenched, the way his free hand gripped your thigh possessively, the way his breathing had become just as unsteady as yours—it was obvious. His erection was straining against his jeans, pressed so tightly against the fabric that it had to be painful, but still, he made no move to relieve himself.

Because tonight was about you.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, when your body was on the verge of collapsing under the pleasure, Yoongi suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and aching. You whined at the loss, your hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction, but before you could even protest, he was already shifting lower, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he spread you open beneath him.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, glistening, needy, completely at his mercy. "Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making you shiver.

And then, without another word, he dipped his head down and dragged his tongue through your folds, slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of you.

Your breath hitched, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he moaned against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core. Yoongi ate you out like he was starving, like he had been waiting for this all night, his tongue lapping at you, flicking and circling your clit in a way that made you see stars.

You were lost in it, lost in him—your body melting, pleasure building so intensely it was almost unbearable. And judging by the way Yoongi groaned against you, his own frustration mounting with every second, he was just as lost in you.

Yoongi’s swollen lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a slow, deliberate pull. A sharp gasp left your lips, your fingers tangling tighter into his dark hair as heat pooled in your core. He was relentless, tongue working against you in fluid, hungry strokes, savoring every sound that spilled from your mouth.

His grip on your thighs tightened, fingers digging into your skin as if grounding himself, keeping you spread open for him, completely at his mercy. He let out a low, guttural growl against your heat, the vibrations sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your spine. "Fuck," he exhaled, lips wet with evidence of how much you needed him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping at your slick folds before flicking back up to your clit, teasing, tormenting. Your back arched off the mattress, breath hitching as he pushed you further into that delicious, intoxicating edge of pleasure.

“Right there, right there,” you mewled, barely coherent, and he hummed against you in response, sending another wave of pleasure straight to your core. He wanted more. He needed more. The way you writhed, the way you moaned his name like a prayer—he was addicted.

You couldn't quite describe how you felt. It was like an itch deep in your stomach that only Yoongi could reach, your back arching off the bed with a squeaking gasp, your hips rutting against his nose.

“Fuck im gonna cum yoongi.” your jaw slack, eyes glued shut and grasp on his hair tightening with every flick of his tongue. Yoongi trailed his hands up to your hips, spurring you on to grind against his face, fuck yourself on his face. He began slurping down your cunt loudly, the sound planting a sweet itch at your core similar to when youre trying to remember a word and its on the tip of your tongue but you cant quite get it.

The sudden clench of your walls had Yoongi moving instinctively, his hand swiftly covering your mouth before the inevitable moan could escape. His grip was firm but careful, as though he knew exactly how your body would betray you. Your thighs tightened around his head in response, the tension spurring him on as he devoured you through the aftershocks of your climax. His tongue worked tirelessly, determined to savor every drop of you until the overstimulation had you writhing beneath him.

“Too much, Yoongs,” you gasped, voice breathless as your fingers found purchase in his hair, tugging with just enough desperation to make him groan against you. Your body trembled, vision blurred, but he wasn’t finished. The taste of you was intoxicating—his newfound favorite indulgence—and he wasn’t ready to part from it just yet.

Eventually, he relented, emerging from between your legs with a satisfied hum. A thin sheen of sweat glistened along his forehead, his lips swollen and glistening from his efforts. He watched you for a moment, drinking in the sight of your spent body before pressing slow, lingering kisses up your stomach. When his lips finally found yours, the kiss was deep, unhurried—possessive. He made sure to leave them swollen, a reminder of what had just transpired between you.

You could taste yourself on him, the remnants of your arousal mixing with the faint trace of tequila lingering on your own tongue. Yoongi pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning over your lips as he smirked.

“We should get back before someone comes looking for you,” he murmured, voice low, warm. His eyes roamed over your dazed expression, the way your body still trembled slightly in the aftermath. “You look too pretty like this—fucked out and glowing. I think I’d like to keep that to myself.”

Before you could respond, he stole another kiss, this one brief but teasing, before pushing himself to his feet. He disappeared into the washroom, giving himself a once-over in the mirror while you hurried to gather your composure, pulling your bottoms back on.

“That doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you mused, giggling as you ran a brush through your hair, then lightly dusted setting powder across your flushed skin. A spritz of perfume, a quick reapplication of deodorant, and you were ready.

Together, you navigated your way back to the party with careful steps, eyes darting around to ensure no one had noticed your absence. Just before you stepped into view, you reached up, fluffing his hair to make him look a little less disheveled. Yoongi caught your wrist before you could pull away, pressing one final kiss to your palm, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Then, as if nothing had happened, you rejoined the party.

When the two of you finally emerged—slightly disheveled but expertly composed—your friends were already onto you. You cleared your throat as you fixed your hair and readjusted your top, looking over at Yoongi who still has some of your cum on his chin. Your eyes widened in mortification, and you quickly rushed to wipe it off with your thumb. An afterglow ever-present on both your faces though you’d scrambled to touch up your makeup before rushing out and quickly fixing up your hair

"Nice of you to rejoin us," Hoseok teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, red solo cup clutched in his hands. You giggled while Yoongi rolled his eyes.

Jimin grinned. "We were taking bets on how long you'd be gone."

"You’re all insufferable," you groaned, sinking into your armchair and glancing around the room to see if anyone else had noticed. Yoongi gave you a sympathetic smile. Of course, the Bangtan boys had kept track of each other at parties. Of course, they noticed he was gone, and of course, they noticed the host of the party was also missing. Your openly flirtatious relationship with Yoongi being well known enough amongst them, they immediately connected the dots.

"Oh, we’re not done yet," Namjoon smirked, pulling a handful of photocards from his back pocket and waving them in your face. "Drop an album soon, or these go public."

Your stomach dropped at the sight of your most embarrassing pre-debut photos. “What the fuck!” you exclaimed somehow still in a whisper and you tried reaching for the photos but he pulled back. “Joon!” you yelled, dragging out in a whine.

Your hair was an ugly burnt auburn with blonde money pieces, you dressed in the whimsical indie style that had been overused and overdone back when you’d debuted. What you hated the most about your appearance at the time was your acne, which you covered with very, very heavy makeup not doing your skin any favours.

The color drained from your face.

"First of all, you, of all people, should know that writing music isn't that simple," you huffed, exasperation clear in your voice.

Namjoon only chuckled, taking a slow sip of his beer before leveling you with a smirk. "Then get on it," he teased, slipping the photos into his pocket with a deliberate nonchalance.

Jimin, freshly emerged from the guest bathroom, caught the exchange and rolled his eyes. "He won't do anything, don't worry," he muttered, dragging an inebriated Jungkook behind him.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the conversation shifted, the night continuing with the usual banter. Whatever Namjoon had planned, you knew he’d wait—he always did. And for now, you could enjoy the moment and be hopeful for what time held for Yoongi and you.

➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Taglist Form

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holy-puckslibrary · 10 months ago

Text

─ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜.

pairing(s) — fwb!MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader wc — 3.2k synopsis — best not-boyfriend boyfriend ever! (read the request here) note — bestie, your brain? marvelous! this was an absolute joy to write, and i hope this captures your vision!!! thank you for the request <3

main masterlist

content warnings under the cut.

cw — hints of a debut-inspired ensemble; complicated, grossly intimate situationship + emotional constipation; angst (not really) to fluffy fluffy; tswizzle references; suggestive section: "heavy petting" but nothing explicit / fade to black; brief alcohol mention + consumption; brief mention of food (no specifics); and ~emotions~

I. it’s getting so much clearer…

Matthew regrets making you a key.

Majorly.

If he’d known the can of worms he was opening when he unceremoniously dropped them in your lap one night, he would’ve listened to his brother; you don’t give girlfriend privileges to women who aren’t your girlfriend. It only leads to hurt feelings, broken console controllers, and unnecessary trouble.

However, it’s highly unlikely this is the “trouble” to which Brady was referring.

Rooted in the entryway, he surveys the damage.

Beads of all shapes, sizes, and colors sit in a sea of jars. Some have spilled out under the coffee table and couch, others have made it all the way into the kitchen. Knotted balls of elastic are sprinkled throughout the chaos, as are multiple pairs of scissors, skeins of embroidery floss, and shards of construction paper. There are markers everywhere, but for some unknown reason, the crayons and sticker sheets are in nice, neat piles. A white feather boa is draped over the entertainment center and there’s a pink one curled by his feet. And, in the eye of the storm, is an anxious lump frantically stringing together DIY jewelry and muttering along to the megamix blaring through the room; he doubts you even heard him come home.

“Sweetheart, is there a reason it looks like a craft store threw up everywhere?” Matthew shouts as he gingerly braves the hurricane.

Something crunches under his shoe, and from the sound alone, he knows it would’ve been worse than stepping on a Lego if his feet were bare.

He also knows that if the music were even a decibel lower, you would be pissed beyond belief. How dare he move freely through his own home without first checking for rogue pieces of plastic? His ears are ringing, but he’s grateful for it. From many years of mistakes and misadventures, he's learned you won’t get on top if you’re mad, regardless of how much groveling he does. And he's got one foot in the doghouse after last weekend as it is.

“T-minus two days ’til Taylor, Matthew,” you grumble from the floor. “What do you think?”

You’ve been at this for weeks. It gets worse the closer the concert gets. The mess and your mood.

Matthew isn’t stupid, and he knows you better than he lets on. You panic under the weight of your own (often unrealistic) expectations. You need everything to be perfect, or the entire world crumbles. This, Night One of the Florida dates of the Eras Tour, is, understandably, no exception. If anything, the pressure’s dialed up to eleven.

In stressing over every little detail, you’ve made yourself miserable. Watching you unravel makes his chest feel strange.

You won’t ask for help. You don’t want it, either.

But, he can’t let you flounder. For his own sanity, he can’t do it. And he does care about you. Maybe not in the way everyone assumes or hopes, but he does. He’d do almost anything to lighten your load.

Yet, Matthew treads lightly. If he’s too forthcoming, you could get the wrong idea. He doesn’t want to spook you, and he can’t have any wires getting crossed. What’s so good about your situation is how markedly uncomplicated it’s been. He refuses to be the one who fucks it up for everyone.

So, he does what he can, and he does it without making a big deal about it.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he sinks down onto the floor beside you. You’re perched on one of the obnoxious throw pillows you insisted he order to “spruce up” the space and make it look less “bachelor pad-y." As if that’s not exactly what it is. He takes this as rare permission to do the same, placing one under his hips and cuddling another to his chest as he stretches out on his stomach, phone in hand.

Well, as stretched as a person can be in the middle of an obstacle course.

Between the second play of “cowboy like me” and the third of “Tim McGraw,” his various feeds dry up, and he’s spammed his contacts into oblivion. You're still chugging along, like a Sad Girl automaton locked in an endless glittery assembly line.

At one point, you murmur, “Give me your wrist."

And he does.

Matthew’s taken aback when you loop elastic around it to get a measurement.

He’s confused, but not for the reason one might assume. He’s painfully familiar with the friendship bracelet phenomenon and the giddy exchanges, having been force-fed hours' worth of tour content over the past year, but he never thought you’d rope him into it.

The buzz under his skin is oddly auspicious, watching you clip the appropriate length before reaching for the pile laid out near his head.

It’s not long before you make the same request again. However, this time, you slide on a custom creation. You fiddle with it for a moment, then turn back to your station to begin the next one on the list.

“And in which era does she cosplay as a camp counselor?” Matthew teases as he thumbs the letter beads.

They spell out a moniker he’d honestly find offensive if you hadn’t looped the song one too many times. He wonders if you’ve made yourself the matching one.

You emit a sound that haunts his nightmares and side-eye him in a way that would’ve made a lesser man disintegrate.

“If you don’t want it, give it back so I can give it to someone who will appreciate my time and effort,” you bite with your hand outstretched, palm up and open expectantly.

Matthew shoves it away, suddenly defensive. “I never said that.”

The sun slips behind the fence an hour later, and the sky bathes the house in purple-pink hues. As he gathers ingredients in the kitchen, Matthew watches the slow-moving clouds absentmindedly. He hasn't felt this content in a while.

Arms full, he wades through the arts and crafts on the way to the backyard.

You’re still in the den, still hunched over in the same place he found you in. He shakes his head when he passes you, knowing he’s got an hour (at least) moonlighting as a masseuse in his future.

You don’t startle or acknowledge him until the grill set you bought for his birthday clatters to the floor.

“Why’re there two cowboy hats getting glitter all over my patio?” he asks, despite knowing the answer. And hating it. Vehemently.

You fix him with an unamused glare. Your brow quirks, and your hands still. Then, you blink at him very slowly. Like he’s an idiot. Like he just asked a stupid question—because he did.

Matthew’s head wags so intensely that his neck cracks.

“Oh, hell no.”

II. it’s coming undone…

Matthew scowls at his reflection.

“—looks so fucking stupid.”

He can’t tell if he looks worse with or without the fur-trimmed, shimmery cowboy hat. And, honestly, it's a little distressing. After temporarily ditching it, he tugs at his curls. Then, the hem of the jersey.

Resigned, he reaches across the bed for the homemade accessory. Wearing it will make you smile—and it gives his dignity something to hide behind.

Twitter’s going to have a fucking field day.

Your panicked voice spills out from the hotel bathroom, “Really?”

“Of course, it fucking do—”

His tirade of vanity grinds to a screeching halt at the sight of you, backlit and wilting.

“That’s not—ah, fuck.” Matthew digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “What I meant was—me, it looks stupid on me. Not you. On you, it looks… It looks…”

“It looks, what?”

It looks like he’s glad none of your friends were available because he won’t have to pretend you’re less than you are.

No lectures, no goading, no scrutiny. Just you.

“Right.” That’s the word he settles for. “It looks right.”

The emphasis chips away at what little believability the underwhelming affirmation had. That much is evident from the insecurity bleeding through your makeup.

“Right,” you parrot. Skeptically, you drag out the vowel long enough that it disappears into the bathroom with you.

Before the door clicks shut, Matthew’s already berating himself for whatever just happened. For acting like a complete doofus with a foot shoved down his throat.

His mind is as quick as his tongue is sharp. He’s got confidence for days and a cocky demeanor primed and on-call, one that most women find endearing. Yourself included. He’s never had an issue dishing out pretty words or flirting before, especially not with you.

With you, banter came easy. Sweet or salacious, it didn’t matter. The bob and weave, from platonic chatter to something charged and suggestive, is effortless. And it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. It's innate. He should be able to uphold his reputation in his sleep.

What’s gotten into him?

(You’d say the power of Taylor Swift, or some shit. Which is why he doesn’t open the floor for discussion. Among other reasons.)

Matthew makes the executive decision to put things right. To redeem himself, to feel more like himself.

His palms are hot and tingling as he sets off to do what he does best. Something fool-proof. Something that’ll erase the past ten minutes from the collective consciousness. Something to scratch an itch...

He won't make it through three and a half hours without catching a public indecency charge.

Not with you looking like that.

“I was thinking,” Matthew trails off as he comes up behind you in the en suite bathroom. His hands land on the counter, one on either side of you. “We should fool around a little bit before we leave.”

With his chest flush to your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, he blatantly checks you out.

You, albeit begrudgingly, find it flattering. On principle, you roll your eyes.

You snort. “Funny."

Sarcasm pinches his face as he unintelligibly mocks you.

Whatever witty retort he had died on his tongue when you lean forward to put some eyeliner in your waterline, inadvertently pushing the curve of your backside right into his growing bulge.

Matthew turns you to face him without warning.

The kohl pencil goes flying, dotting the pristine space as it tumbles to the floor. Its final resting place is unknown; you’ll follow the smudge-crumbs later.

Later, when he doesn’t have you pressed tight between the harsh edge of the counter and his chest.

Later, when the dull ache in your arched back dissipates.

Later, when his attraction isn’t so painfully tangible.

Later, when he isn’t looking at you the way he is now.

You’re sinking in a shade of blue you don’t recognize. It’s stormy, vast and disquieting. Like any collision, you’re unable to tear your eyes away even though you know you should. It betrays an aura of foreboding, yet somehow, Matthew’s charged gaze carries a soothing effect. It's hypnotic in an stomach-twisting way.

“I’m not laughing, sweetheart.” He breathes the words through the slight part in your lips, his voice rich and thick like honey.

“W-We need to be quick—”

Matthew buries his face in the sweet-smelling crook of your neck. Intent on shutting you up, he succeeds with infuriating ease once he’s latched onto your throat. He nips and sucks whenever you protest, and soon, you don’t even bother trying anymore.

Why lie and deny when what you want feels this fucking good?

When your nails dig impatient little half-moons into his forearms, Matthew bares his teeth with a triumphant hiss.

He grins against your skin, humming atop your erratic pulse.

“Better hurry up and spread ‘em, then.”

Matthew’s between your dangling boots as soon as you’ve hoisted yourself onto the counter. Kneading the soft skin of your thighs, inching up and in with eager hands, he doesn’t slow or stop until the white Self-Titled sundress is bunched up in the hinge of your hips.

“That’s my girl.”

III. it’s delicate…

“All Tequila, No Crime” isn’t as diabolical of a cocktail as it sounds.

Spending $100+ to taste test it and three other signature mixed drinks is.

A robbery, if you ask him.

What's downright criminal, though, is your inability to finish a single one. A “Last Great American G&T” with a few sips missing, a half-finished “Midnight Mule,” and a watered-down “Blue Debut” sit abandoned amongst an assortment of sweet treats and small bites.

As he waits for what he ordered, Matthew picks at the vibrant fruit salad. He’s about to pluck a honeydew star from the pile stacked high in a bowl fashioned from a watermelon rind when the back of his neck prickles.

“Knock it off.”

You blink, bemused.

Matthew, having watched your reaction in a reflection, rolls his eyes.

Back still to you, he clarifies. “You promised you wouldn’t make this a whole thing.”

“I'm not.”

“You've never been a good liar.”

“Isn't that a good thing?” you deflect.

You turn your attention back to the lively stadium, watching as it fills with laughter and anticipation. You're hoping he'll take the hint and drop it, that he won't pull the night apart at the seams.

He abandons the sprawling buffet table in favor of the plush recliner beside yours. Once settled, Matthew slides a plate of your favorites across the small table between you.

“Don't change the subject.”

The cement under your boots makes for a captive audience as you sail into dicey weather. “I know—I know what I said, and I'm really trying my best, but can you blame me? I mean, c’mon, Matty. Look where we are.”

“A Taylor Swift concert?” Matthew does what he does best.

You know his tells and his tricks. You indulge neither.

“My first Taylor Swift concert. Ever. I came out of The Queue From Hell empty-handed and shit out of luck, yet here we are. The Eras Tour. And not way up the nosebleeds or side-stage with an obstructed view. A suite. A private, fifteen-person suite—for just us. You did that.”

Matthew shifts uncomfortably. He scratches the shadow clinging to his jaw. He looks everywhere, at everything. Everything except you.

“So?”

The probe is firm yet reluctant but not inherently dismissive.

“So,” you heave a labored sigh of unease. “—so, how could I not? This ‘whole thing’ is the kindest, most thoughtful gesture anyone’s ever done for me. It means the absolute world, and I know you know that.”

A thick, paralyzing quiet descends on the balcony.

He does know that, which is what makes it so terrible. He knows, he knows, he knows. Matthew knows; he wishes he didn’t. For years, he successfully kept it at bay because… because you can’t just un-know something like that. Even entertaining the thought felt too big a risk. It jeopardizes the delicate peace only willful ignorance can safeguard.

“Alright, alright. Jesus, sweetheart. Can't have you emptying the tank before the show even starts,” Matthew teases as he thumbs the tears away. “How d’ya know I didn’t pull some strings just to put an end to your perpetual pity party?”

He’s trying to lighten the mood. Hoping to inch away from the emotionally dense zone of uncharted territory, hoping you’ll have mercy—or take pity—on him and his plight of avoidance.

And you do.

Ever the benevolent people-pleaser.

You take your foot off the gas. You retreat to the status quo. You yield, but for a good cause.

Good and right aren’t synonymous. And we can’t will them to be. So, instead, we choose our battles and bide our time.

There’s no reason to rain on tonight’s parade.

“Thank you,” you acquiesce.

Mathew smiles.

This ceasefire, this tacit truce, is as fragile as rice paper. It feels as though, if someone pushed too hard from either side, they'd go right through it unchallenged. But, for now, it's enough.

He takes your hand and squeezes. “And for the hundredth time, you’re welcome.”

IV. it’s been a long time coming…

He gets it now.

Truthfully, he understood after the very first bridge of the night. There’s just something about the intimacy of the spectacle; it's… indescribable. With thousands from all walks of life gathered in a single stadium to celebrate nearly two decades of singing, crying, and growing up together, it wasn't difficult to get swept up in the magic.

For someone who’d consider themselves fan-adjacent at best, he wasn’t expecting to feel much of anything, let alone goosebumps, misty-eyed.

He can’t even imagine how extraordinarily special it must’ve been for you, a lifelong fan, to partake in the world’s most cinematic sing-along. To luck out with your opener of choice, to be surprised with your favorite song during the acoustic set—you could probably die happy. Matthew can still feel your tear-streaked cheek against his shoulder and your shakey hand clasped in his. And he’ll remember the warmth of your joy for the rest of his life.

He, however, doesn't have to imagine how much the experience took out of you.

“Hey, hey. Don’t pass out on me yet, sweetheart.”

You’re one minute into a five-minute Uber ride, and he’s already had to nudge you twice.

Curled against the cool window like a cat, you groggily protest, “I’m not. My mind is alive, promise.”

He snorts. “Then why’re your eyes shut?”

“They aren’t!”

They absolutely are.

Matthew tugs you across his lap with a smile pulling at his cheeks.

“Sounds like you need to get yours checked, Matthew Brendan,” you quip into his chest before drowning the backseat in delirious giggles.

In the golden glow of the streetlamps, his smirk rests against your temple.

Here is the moment. There have been hundreds like it in the years since you met. Lighthearted banter and late night laughter spill over into the early morning hours, all of it utter nonsense he wouldn’t trade for anything. It should be perfectly ordinary, but it's music to his ears.

The cowboy boots he swore he wouldn’t carry home rest against his similarly sore calves. The ziplock bag, once bursting at the seams with bracelets, is empty and folded in his back pocket, and his arm is full from elbow to wrist. The glitter he contested clings to him like a second skin, there to stay.

And he doesn’t hate it.

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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thegnomelord · 11 months ago

Note

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.

#⨂anon #gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #trinckets of the hoard #vladimir makarov x reader #makarov x reader #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #vladimir makarov #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #cod mlm #vladimir makarov x male reader

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seeker-ophelia · 6 months ago

Text

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan

So there’s lots of discussion about Mythal and Solas, and we need to talk about it.

I too, at first, was mad that Lavellan wasn’t enough for Solas.

And then I started thinking about it.

Not only was Mythal his mother, his creator, she coaxed him into being. Into changing his spirit and his purpose.

Regret Number 1.

He let her use his knowledge and wisdom to do a terrible thing, to kill (tranquil) the titans, changing a whole race of people at a molecular magical level.

Regret Number 2.

When that choice created the worst power known to Thedas (the blight) he was responsible again. And Mythal asked him to step up and fight against it, and he did. And a lot of people died.

Regret 3.

Mythal DIED. (IMO The gods blighted her because she stood against them for wanting to use the blight but that’s not important here). And Solas blames himself.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her puppy. Her Emerald Knight. Her General. Her Protector. Her Wisdom. Her servant, her SLAVE. He is BOUND TO HER. And he caused her downfall.

And you’re all like, GEAS! GEAS!

But wait.

From HIS perspective.

Rook says something somewhere along the lines of like, by abstainsing from being the good guy (oh wait maybe it was Varric in the fade…)

By choosing to be the villain instead of the hero is he absolving himself of the guilt (regret) that comes from having to have made those choices.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her slave.

LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE.

He is a worm in the dirt in front of her. He is a scolded child, a puppy with his tail between his legs.

But in the eyes of Mythal, he was always her friend. The one person who had always stood by her. She did not literally entrap him, or bind him. It was all in Solas’ own head.

He refused to take accountability for his actions, only able to survive through the crushing weight of his own guilt by blaming it on servitude to Mythal.

That’s why Rook escaped the prison. Because she faced her own choices, choices with terrible consequences, and accepted them. Took responsibility for them, and promised to do better.

Remember, after the Temple of Mythal…

Solas…

You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elvhen god!

What does that mean exactly?

You are Mythal’s creature now, everything you do whether you know it or not will be for her. *** You have given up a part of yourself.

***THIS WAS NEVER TRUE. IT WAS NOT TRUE FOR FLEMYTHAL & MORRIGAN, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR ABELAS, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR SOLAS. HE JUST WANTED TO BELIVE THAT IT WAS.

…I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question… What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. **Lavellan is talking about the mage/templar conflict, but Solas is putting her in his own shoes. Solas reached for power he could not control and fucked the whole world up.

You would risk everything you have with the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was? **

**This is literally him asking her what she would do in his shoes. He woke up and the world was in chaos OF HIS MAKING. To prevent an evil HE CAUSED from spreading, he orchestrated the downfall of the people he loved and swore to protect.

I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.

Just like that?

*He is in shock that she can be so cavalier about the guilt that has rocked him for (4?) millennia.

If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.

*And this is the only thing that calms him down.

You’re right. Thank You.

For what?

You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor, you have… impressed me.

You have offered hope that is one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better.

Then, of course, he takes this to mean that he needs to try to put The Evanuris in a different prison and take down the veil which isn’t at all what we meant sweetie but that’s okay get up and try again.

This is a classic case of a person in power not understanding the terrible, horrible consequences of unfettered power imbalances. Because Solas was always Friend to Mythal (Im not going into Freudian sex shit with you weirdos right now).

Solas was Mythals FRIEND.

Mythal was Solas’ EVERYTHING.

co·de·pend·en·cy

/ˌkōdəˈpend(ə)nsē/

noun

excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner,

His Mother, General, Creator, Protector, Queen, Goddess.

And he loved her so fiercely with every fiber of his new, physical being.

And he hated it.

And when Lavellan fell for him, and he for her, he was afraid.

Because he would never force a spirit against her purpose, and in his eyes the only way to love is the sick and twisted way he loved Mythal.

But again, from Mythal’s perspective, it wasn’t twisted. Solas was just Solas. And once again the powerful care not for the thoughts and opinions of those beneath them.

And that sin is on Mythal.

And that’s why she comes out and talks to Solas. Both aspects of her. To release him from the bonds that never existed. Be free, friend. You always were, but if you need me to say it I will because I love you.

“I pulled you from the fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.”

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Be free.

“The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you to bear alone, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

And he COWERS before her. Shaking and shuddering. FNALLY being absolved of the guilt he’s carried since his inception.

“I release you from my service.”

And he SOBBS. At the RELIEF.

And Lavellan kneels before him (wrong, IMO because they should be equals but its fine)

And he can go back to his original purpose.

Not Pride.

Not Knowledge.

Not even Wisdom.

But Protection.

“My life force now sustains the veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

The Shepherds Wolf. Protecting his flock from those who would do them harm.

And Lavellan promises it won’t be terrible, as long as they’re together.

And maybe Solas can try this different kind of love. A love built on respect, and trust, instead of fear, and obedience.

And he can be his purpose, Protection, and also be a man. And love his vhenan.

Because he is free.

#Fuck my life its 3am im going to bed #Veilguard Spoilers #Dragon Age #Solas #Lavellan #Mythal #Solavellan #Guilt #Regret #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #da4 #datv #datv spoilers #Solavellan Hell is Over #The Dread Wolf #Fen'Harel

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slayfics · 1 year ago

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Idk if you do drabble requests but I wanna ask. Katsuki getting resder pads. I can imagine two scenarios for him. Either he was too focused on hero stuff that he gets pads in all sizes, in the brand which reader asked to get. Or, total domestic househusband material. Straught away gets the pad and some snacks and comes home w a proud lil smile saying like how he knows everything about reader 🤩🤩

(Yeah I'm on my period :D)

Katsuki tends to you on your period

500 words~

You scrolled through your phone while watching mindless TV, waiting for Katsuki to return home. He had taken off to the store to grab a few things. Before leaving he had asked you if you needed anything.

To your surprise, he didn’t scrunch his nose up at you or make any snide comments when you asked him to pick up pads. Instead, he just grunted in acknowledgment and made his way out the door.

You half expected a text or call soon from a lost Katsuki in the feminine hygiene aisle completely overwhelmed with which ones to pick out. However- a call never came.

The door creaked open, and you heard the sound of his boots stomping accompanied by the rustling of what sounded to be several grocery bags. Katsuki poked his head into the living room- a devious look on his face.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him apprehensively.

Katsuki made his way to you- grocery bags in hands, “Will this do it for ya’?” he asked, spilling the contents of a few of the bags onto your lap. Multiple packs of pads in all sizes and shapes rained out.

You looked up at his teasing expression and couldn’t help but laugh, “Kats what did you do?!?”

“You didn’t specify so- I got every kind they had,” he explained a harsh laugh escaping him. “Oh wait- I also read some dumb ass article that said to get you snacks too,” he said grabbing another bag and dumping it out once more onto your lap.

Many snacks flopped out, from chocolates, and chips, to sour gummy worms.

“Wait- got these too,” he said emptying another bag on top of you and various stuffed toys flew out. “Need anything else for your period, hm?” He asked and smiled as you proceeded to laugh until your eyes misted.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” You stated.

“Yeah, well- told ya I’m the best at everything. Including this.” He said mockingly before his features turned soft, “Seriously though- do you need anything else?” He asked.

“Just you,” you said motioning for him to sit with you. Katsuki made a scene of pushing the stuffed toys, snacks, and pads to the side to make room for himself.

“I love you,” you said kissing his cheek.

“Course you do,” he replied, causing you to slap his arm playfully. “Kidding brat- you know I love you. Wouldn’t do this dumb shit for anyone else,” he said pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Thanks for the request! I hope this is what you were looking for! Just wanted to let everyone else know too incase you haven’t seen- I’ve opened up my requests again but only for some of the MHA boys. You can read more in my pinned post~

Tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a

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dollfacefantasy · 9 months ago

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help okay i hope this isn't too soon but im back and i have a thirst. So basically ive been thinking about like di leon and where hes been gone on a mission for a week and when he finally comes home he has like paper work or like something on the computer and reader is just like sitting at his feet with her head in his lap while he works and she starts getting super impatient while hes on a work call and starts to act bratty and whine and stuff and then starts to suck him off and so when he hangs up he pulls her over his knee and punishes her and then they fuck. I was hoping you could put like daddy kink cuz you write it so good i love it and you can add whatever else you think fits. Hope this wasn't too much im sorry if it was.

heyyy :) so i have a fic with a kind of similar premise for leon and thirsts are usually just little blurbs to me, so i'm just gonna write part of this but thank you for the ask. i do love the idea of doing it while on the flip phone <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, blowjob, daddy kink, sort of exhibitionism

The entire desk shakes as Leon's phone chimes with the notification that someone is trying to reach him. For such a small device, it sure had a lot of vibration power.

Normally, he'd just reach over and grab it. Flip open the small cellphone, scan the caller ID, and hold it to his ear with his obligatory "Kennedy speaking."

But right now, he hesitates. He hesitates because you're beneath his desk. You'd managed to tug his pants loose and worm your fingers around his length. Your hand strokes him slowly, moving up and down as you look up at him with those alluring eyes of yours.

He'd been away on a mission for a few weeks, and as expected, your ache for him had grown strong. It would be easy to just brush your hands off and send you away till he finished working at his desk, but he had missed you too. He found it sweet, your need to be attached to him after some time apart. The only thing worse than having to leave you for so long would watching those pretty eyes fill with the sting of rejection.

"Be good while daddy's on the phone," he says quietly, as if he already had the other person on the line, "If you get me in trouble, I promise you your ass is gonna get it tenfold."

You nod in a display of your obedience, as if he was a fool to question you at all.

With your small reassurance, he grabs his phone and whips it open. Chris Redfield. Ok, so at least there was a chance it wouldn't be something too serious.

"Hey, man," he says as he brings it to his ear.

From your place on the ground, you can hear the muffled sound of his friend's voice. It's of no concern to you though. You rest your cheek on his thigh while your eyes stay locked on his cock held between your digits. You stroke it up and down, watching the flushed appendage with adoration.

Above you, he mumbles "mhm's" and "oh yeah, for sure's.” You don’t pay much attention beyond those brief affirmations. All you can think is how bad you want it in your mouth. It just looks so good, and it's been too long since you've had it.

But you shouldn't, right? He told you to be good. But this would feel so good for both of you. It seems like a win-win from your perspective.

"Yeah, that's bullshit. I don't blame you I would've done the- fuck," Leon says, getting cut off by his own hissed expletive as your lips engulf the tip of his dick.

You hear a muffled response on the other end, but you don't look up to see your boyfriend's reaction. Instead, you work his shaft deeper into your mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Got a cramp in my leg. I get 'em bad after assignments," he mutters.

His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, so clearly, he wasn't too displeased with what you were doing down there.

You brace yourself on his thighs, pads of your fingers digging into the meat of his legs. Rising and falling, your head bobs. You coat the flushed skin with your saliva, letting it dribble from your mouth down to his balls.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he wrestles with the desire to moan. Poor Chris on the other side of this call. Not a word he said was taking root in Leon's brain. The short responses were even more half-hearted than before.

"I'm listening. Sorry, I was just... preoccupied when you called, y'know?" you hear him mumble.

You swirl your tongue over the ridge and pull off to lap at more of him. Your hand strokes what your mouth can't cover. You know all his favorite tricks, and you're putting each one to use right now.

Leon runs a hand through his hair, a bit of sweat beginning to break out across his forehead. His eyes flutter, and he closes them as if that would make it easier to stave off the impending explosion of ecstasy. A soft grunt comes from him, one he's hoping isn't loud enough to raise suspicion.

"What? Yeah, she's home right now... I don't know where she is. She's... doing something around here," he responds to Chris asking about you.

A laugh rumbles through the phone. Chris says something along the lines of "you're something else."

"What?" Leon defends, "I swear I'm listening I just-"

He has to stop talking then and there. If he kept going, his words would've morphed into one of the most humiliating whines heard by him, you, and Chris. He couldn't have that. When he recovers, his next words come rushing out.

"I just gotta call you back. Give me about an hour," he says, not waiting for a reply before clapping the phone shut.

His hips buck upwards, and both of his hands land on your head, making you take all of it. You gag a little, but he doesn't lighten up.

"No, no, baby. You wanted daddy so bad. You're gonna take all of me now. No whining," he chides through a clenched jaw.

Your eyes water. You tough it out though and let him fuck your throat till you feel that familiar pulse on your tongue. He lets go down your throat, spilling himself into the warmth of your mouth with a groan. His body slumps into the chair as he rides it out. Only when he's done does he finally let you go.

You pull back and recede onto your haunches, catching your breath. As air refills your lungs, things seem clearer. The moment of relief only lasts a short while though. Seconds later your being pulled up and slung across his lap.

A pout graces your lips as you look up at him.

"Ah ah. Don't look at me like that. What'd I tell you?" he says, already rubbing your ass in preparation for the spanking you're about to get.

"But you didn't get in trouble!" you protest.

"You didn't know that when you pulled that stunt though, so you still are," he teases before landing a firm swat on your ass.

The first of many to come.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x you #ch: leon kennedy 💌

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago

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craziest thought: what if arkham knight and redhood are twins?

RH is Jason the older twin, AK is Jayce the younger twin

They both were adopted by Bruce and became Robin and Redstart respectively, Batman's Wonder Twins. The twins met Reader in Gotham Academy, saving them from a bunch of guys asking for your number. From there, the three became a tight knit group.

Then, disaster struck when Robin and Redstart had to seperate for a while because of different missions. Jason stayed in Gotham, Jayce went to a different country.

Jason found a lead about his mother and track it down only to get captured by the Joker.

When Jayce came back, it was to a home with a dead twin. Filled with anger, he tries to get revenge only to be stopped by Batman. Tensions were high, Jayce became even more angry and frustrated at his family. The only good thing in his life now was you, but your presence was not enough to calm his rage. Maybe in another world, if you tried harder, you could prevent Jayce from taking the path of revenge but this world is not that world.

Just like his twin, Jayce got caught by the Joker and went through hell.

"Two birds in one stone! Or should I say crowbar?" Joker laughs, a bloody crowbar in his hand.

Batman's spirit has never been as crushed as this moment, watching the video Joker sent to him of Jayce being tortured with the same crowbar that killed Jason.

You became a ahadow of yourself. Two of your best friends died one after the other. All the naive hope and determination left in you died like a little candle light after hearing about Jayce's death.

End Scene.

i'm fasting right now so all sorts of ideas are cooking in my brain. honestly i just want to see RH and AK duking it out for you but then this happened lol anyways thank you and congrats on your followers milestone!!

ooooooooooohhhhhh, OW! Ugh, this AU is just– wow– I'm so invested. There's so much angst potential here and the way this brain worm has not left my head since you dropped this in my inbox!

Just– you went from having the world, two best friends that you would do anything for (and they would do the same for you) and now you're left with nothing but twin gravestones?? Frothing at the mouth and unwell.

It's almost worse when they do come back, because neither of them are the same. Of course they have similar goals, a desire for revenge, but they aren't the boys you spent every single second of your day with. You think they would work together, but they're angry at everybody, angry at each other, and I would even say they're angry at you.

Jason is angry nothing changed when he died, he's angry that you didn't do enough to save his brother. But he's also angry at AK for leaving you behind, for falling for the same trap he did.

AK is angry that you didn't find him– that no one found him. He blames everyone for not being enough to help when he was mourning his brother. And he's so angry that his older brother– the one who got the mantle of Robin– let himself get killed.

But anger doesn't change the fact that you're still you. You were (are?) their best friend, and that starts to twist you into some sort of prize. If they can get you on their side, doesn't that prove that they're in the right? It's a mockery of how they used to argue over your opinions as children. But none of you are kids anymore, and now there's a war with too many sides in Gotham that you're stuck in the middle of.

And you hate that they expect you to choose, you're angry too. You don't want to choose– wouldn't want to even if they were the same as they were before. Even if you could choose, your options are between a crime lord and the head of a militia, and who knows what would happen to you if you gave into either of them.

But don't get it wrong, you want to help them, you miss them more than anything. And there's really only a handful of people who understand that, so if you go running to Wayne Manor in hopes of finding a better way, well, let's just say it never crossed your mind how that would affect them.

#ugh tysm for sharing this #it has me so unwell in the best way fr #will be thinking about this au for the rest of the day #rae rambles about jason and the reader #twin au #jason todd x reader

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munsonsmixtapes · 1 year ago

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Could you do one where the f reader and Eddie Munson are friends and she’s Henderson’s sister. Plus sized and wearing big glasses. A book worm but with a bunch of ear piercings. They end up playing truth or dare and they end up sleeping together after and a confession of long hidden feelings?

Thank you so much for the request, lovely!!

Eddie x fem!plus size!reader

cw: MDNI 18+ smut, (p in v), brief mention of fatphobia

The sun shone into Eddie’s bedroom, giving you the perfect light to read your book. Your best friend, Eddie was laying on your stomach, playing his Game Boy, the only noise that could be heard throughout the room coming from the thing as a part of whatever game he was playing.

You looked down at him in admiration, loving the way his tongue was sticking out a bit, a cute little thing he did when he was focusing on something. Part of you wanted to tell you how you really felt about him, but you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. You didn’t have many friends and you really couldn’t lose the best one you ever had.

Eddie turned to face you, his game being thrown to the side. You glanced at him, seeing the look of mischief of his face then pushed your glasses further up through bridge of your nose before turning back to your book, not in the mood for his games.

“Y/n,” he whined. “Pay attention to me.” He buried his face into your stomach and you moved your free hand to his hair, giving his head a little scratch, hoping that would help.

“I will once I finish this chapter.” Eddie couldn’t wait that long. He was growing bored of his game and needed something to else to do.

“How good can it be?” He scoffed and you just rolled your eyes.

“Really good.” Sasha and Wren were just about to duel and you had to know if they were going to put their differences aside and finally kiss.

“Let me see that.” He grabbed the book from you and read a few words before taking your bookmark to keep your place then set it aside. “Boring.” He feigned a yawn then snuggled into your shoulder.

“Oh no, you’re not going to interrupt my reading then fall asleep.” You pushed him off of you then sat up. Eddie then moved to sit in front of you, his eyes locking on yours.

“How about we play a game, then?”

“We can go to the arcade.” You didn’t like the idea of going anywhere, but maybe Eddie would win you a prize. That made it seem worth it.

“Or we can play something right here,” he smirked and you didn’t like what he was up to. The mischievous look appeared on his face again and you leaned away, not wanting got get dragged into whatever he was planning.

“We should play truth or dare.” That was worse than what you were expecting. You didn’t actually think that people played that game, that it was something that only happened in movies.

“What are you, twelve?” You scoffed. The game just seemed so juvenile whenever you had seen it play out.

“C’mon, y/n, let’s just play.” You thought for a second and didn’t see what it would hurt. It was just a little game.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Let’s play.”

“Okay, you get the first question.” You didn’t like that. It didn’t give you much time to think of anything even though a lot of things were coming to mind. A lot of inappropriate things you shouldn’t have been thinking about when it came to your best friend.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” That caught you off guard. You were expecting him to pick dare since he was always willing to do something crazy.

“Truth?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Just ask me a question, y/n,” he rolled his eyes. Nothing was coming to mind but your feelings for him and how badly you wanted him. You were feeling so pathetic.

“Who was your first kiss?” That seemed like a safe thing to ask even though you already knew the answer.

“Dana Stewart when I was thirteen.” You hated that you were jealous and wished you had a time machine to go back in time and take Dana’s place. Maybe then, you’d be Eddie’s girlfriend instead of being stuck in the friend zone.

Maybe it was because Dustin was your little brother and Eddie thought it would have been weird to date you because they were so close. Or maybe he just had no interest in you romantically whatsoever. That had to be it. If he was interested, he would have asked you out by now. And then you’d be snuggled up in his arms instead of playing this stupid game.

“My turn,” he smirked and this one seemed sweeter than the other one. “Truth or dare, sweetheart?” He let out a sigh as he leaned back onto the mattress.

“Truth,” you replied, curious as to what he was going to ask. Probably something ridiculous.

“Since we’re on the subject of kissing, how would you feel about kissing…me?” Your eyes widened and your brain short circuited at the words that come out of his mouth. You never thought the day would come, that it would only ever happen in your dreams.

Okay, so maybe Eddie had suggested this whole game just so he could kiss you because he had been too afraid to just go for it and plant one on you just because he wanted to. Your silence made him realize just how much of a line had crossed by even asking.

You shook your head, trying to get the words out of your head. You needed him to repeat himself in order to be sure that you were just imagining things.

“Sorry, what?” You asked and Eddie just chuckled, licking his lips before speaking again.

“I asked how you would feel about kissing me,” he repeated, leaning closer to you, his face only inches from yours. He wanted to kiss you? You never thought you’d see the day. You were sure that was only ever going to do that in your dreams.

“I think I’d pretty into it,” you nodded and Eddie fought a smile that was trying to come out on his face. He slowly leaned forward, pressing his hands to your cheeks, leaning forward even more, his lips ghosting over yours.

“This is okay, right? I’m not making you uncomfortable?” He whispered. You were always Eddie’s number one priority and he’d hate himself if he had ever made you feel uncomfortable or hurt you in any way. He loved you and he wanted to protect you, even if it was from himself.

He pushed some hair behind one of your ears, revealing your many piercings, more memories that you had made together. He had been there for you for every single one and he’d be there for you for many more.

“Not at all. Just kiss me, please.” Your words came out desperate and that made Eddie’s dick harder a little.

“Well, since you said please,” he smirked and finally placed his mouth on yours, his lips slotting between yours. They moved together in sync while your hands rested on his chest. The kiss was soft and sweet and nothing like you had imagined, considering the details he had given you about the girls he hooked up with, but you liked that you were getting that side of him.

Eddie pulled away before you were ready and pressed his forehead to yours, his brown doe eyes pouring into yours. His thumbs stroked your cheeks and a smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“Was that good enough for you?” He asked, even though it was very much not good enough for him. He had just a little taste and was already growing addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.

“I’m not sure, I think I need a bit more.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie’s lips were on yours again, this time rougher. This was what you had imagined; him taking whatever he wanted from you while you were there, pliant to his every touch.

His hands moved from your cheeks down to your waist, trying to pull you closer despite the fact that the both of you were sitting with your legs crossed. You pulled away and uncrossed your legs before climbing into Eddie’s lap, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your lips were on his once again and his tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you opened up just enough to let him slide it inside. It swirled around your own tongue and his hands slowly moved to the bottom of your shirt, wanting to move underneath it, but he was unsure.

“God,” he practically moaned. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“You have?” Your eyes widened at his confession.

“Of course I have,” he licked his lips again. “Been wanting to kiss you since I found that you love Lord of the Rings, doll.” That was over a year ago. He had wanted to kiss you that long and you had no idea? You wondered why he hadn’t just gone for it because you definitely would have let him.

“I guess I should tell you that I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time too.”

“Aww, l/n, do you have a crush on me?” He winked and you just blushed. “Oh my god, that’s so cute.” He laughed and you just covered your face with your hands.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Eddie grabbed onto your wrists and pulled your hands away. “Need to see your pretty face, doll. Sorry, I guess I should have told you that I have a crush on you too.” Your brain short circuited at that. All of your fantasies were actually coming true. The man of your dreams could actually be yours.

“You like me?” Your face lit up and Eddie thought it was the cutest thing.

“So much,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Like, you have no idea.” Another one.

“Does that mean you…wanna be my boyfriend.” Eddie just let out a laugh at that and you weren’t sure what that meant.

“Y/n, of course I want to be your boyfriend. In fact, I’d be honored.” His hands moved up and down your hips reassuringly.

“So does that mean that I’m your girlfriend?”

“Sure does,” he winked. “If you want to be.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anything else, Eds.” You threw your arms around him with so much force that he fell back onto the mattress, you landing on top of him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.” You had straddled him without even thinking and were now very aware of what it looked like you were trying to do.

“Oh, I’m planning on finishing,” you smirked before pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss, catching his top lip between your two. You licked into his mouth, swirling your tongue around his as your hands trailed down his stomach and up his shirt, wanting to touch any inch of skin you could find. It was soft and warm and you loved the way it felt underneath your hands.

“Can I remove this?” You asked, moving your hands back to the bottom of his shirt.

“Please do.” Eddie leaned forward and held his arms up so you could take his shirt off with ease and you let it fall to the floor before reaching for the bottom of the hoodie, but hesitated once you realized that Eddie was going to see your body.

The confidence that you had just a few seconds ago immediately disappeared when you thought about the fact that you weren’t skinny. Sure, Eddie knew that you were fat, but it was going to be very different seeing you naked.

You weren’t the usual kind of girl he slept with. You had seen the girls that he had left with at parties and most of them definitely didn’t look like you. There were a slim few that did, but that didn’t exactly make you feel better.

You had been with too many people that saw you as toy that they could use then throw away when they were done. The kind of people who would sleep with you just to make themselves seem inclusive. The kind of people who would only claim you in the bedroom but would swear you to secrecy as soon as you left because they were ashamed to let anyone know that they actually slept with a fat girl. And you were done with that bullshit.

But Eddie wasn’t like that, not in the slightest. He was sweet and caring and you knew he would never judge you for what your body looked like. Even if he didn’t like the way you looked, he would have at least been a gentleman about it.

You closed your eyes and slowly removed your hoodie and set it beside you, hearing nothing but a gasp come from Eddie’s lips as he caught sight of your body.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice low and raspy. Your eyes widened then formed into a glare, putting your hands on your hips.

“Excuse me,” you asked in a confused tone. That was definitely not what you were expecting to hear. You weren’t exactly sure what your reaction should have been considering no one had ever responded that way to seeing your body.

“Fuck,” he repeated, more emphasis this time. Eddie leaned up from the bed then looked you up and down, taking his time to admire every inch of you. He knew that you were beautiful, but seeing you with almost no clothing on made you even more so. He loved your curves and the stretch marks that he so desperately wanted to run his fingers over.

“Doll-” he cut himself off, trying to find the right words, everything he was going to say getting jumbled up in his brain. “You’re a knockout.”

“You’re just saying that.” He was just being nice, you were sure of it. That was just who he was. He was a gentleman and everything he was saying was just because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“No, no. You’re-fuck-you’re amazing.”

“Eddie, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I may be a lot of things, sweetheart, but a liar isn’t one of them. And I’d be happy to show you just how fucking gorgeous I think you are.” As soon as the words left his mouth, you pushed him down on the bed, pinning him there as you pressed a bruising kiss to his lips.

“Then show me.” You pressed your lips to his again and his hand moved down to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down to your thighs. You got them down the rest of the way and they fell to the floor. Eddie’s hands went to your ass as you unbuttoned his pants before moving off of him so he had more ease removing them.

Once he had them off, he reached for a condom and set it aside and removed his underwear then grabbed the condom and removed it from the pocket and rolled it onto his dick.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours, his hands moving to your back as he slowly lowered you to the mattress. His pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin, making his way to your neck. He gave the spot a gentle peck, another one to your jaw.

“Gonna make some pretty sounds for me?” He asked in a whisper, his lips right by your ears.

“Mhm,” you nodded and he pulled back to look at you. He hooked his finger under your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Use your words,” he commanded and you couldn’t help but comply.

“Yes,” you nodded and he moved his lips back to your ear.

“That’s what I like to hear, princess,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth, giving it the gentlest bite, causing you to let out a squeal.

He slowly moved himself down on top of you and took your hands in his and pressed a kiss to your lips before slowly trailing some back down your neck and to your shoulders. He found your first stretch mark and ran one of his fingers over it, hating that such a small mark made her feel so bad about yourself. If Eddie was being honest, he loved seeing them on people. It gave them character. He pressed a few kisses to the mark before moving on to her chest, moving his way to your other arm, pressing even more kisses to the other mark.

His lips moved further down your body until he got to her hips. He looked up at you and could see that your eyes were closed.

“Can I move these,” he asked, referring to your underwear and your eyes shot open as you nodded enthusiastically.

“Please do,” you urged and he moved them down just enough to where he could see the stretch marks across your stomach and at your hips. Those ones were more prominent than the others, more red.

“These are pretty,” he ran the fingers of both of his hands along the marks on your stomach, moving them down to your hips in a feather light touch.

“Really?”

“Beautiful,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to each one. He removed your underwear completely and let out a dramatic gasp at how wet you were.

“Sweetheart, is this all for me?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for me.”

“Well, I’m honored,” he grinned. “How about I reward you for being such a good girl today?” You liked that idea a lot and nodded eagerly.

He lined himself up with your pussy and grabbed onto your hips before pounded into you, causing you to let out a moan. “Oh, making your pretty sounds just like you promised, I see.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned as he continued, his movements rough and hard just like you liked it. “Right there, baby, yeah.”

Eddie kept going, pumping his cock in and out of your cunt as you let out the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard and he made some of his own at the pleasure he was experiencing. You liked the way he sounded and knew that his moans would live in your head forever and maybe if everything went well, you’d be able to hear them whenever you wanted.

“Look at you,” he continued to pound into you. “Taking my cock so well, baby girl.” He leaned down and pressed a filthy kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he did so, the thing roaming around as if he was looking for something as his hand moved to your tit, giving it a squeeze. He then began to massage your nipple with the pad of his thumb, just enough to make it hard, eliciting another moan from you. Once he got what he wanted, he leaned back up and pumped his dick in and out of you, the fastest and hardest he could.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, gripping at his sheets. “Shit, so good.” He took that as an invitation to continue to fuck you the same way he had been, loving how wild it was driving you.

“Got one more in you, sweetheart?” He asked, pausing to see what your response was.

“One more, baby. And make it your best.”

After one more big thrust and your loudest moan yet, Eddie pulled out and got rid of the condom before helping you clean yourself up, being nothing but complimentary to you the entire time, telling you how good you did and how beautiful you were. It made you feel nothing but warm inside, making you feel special for once.

The two of you got under the covers, not even bothering to change into pajamas and Eddie pulling you to him, one hand resting on your back and the other smoothing the hair at the back of your head. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead then pulled back to look at you, your eyes meeting his.

“I love you.” The words came out so suddenly, but he meant every single one of them. He really did love you and had for a long time. He felt it anytime he was around you, his heart filling up with warmth. Now that he had actually said it, he really believed it, finally accepting that that was what he had been feeling for you all along.

You froze at his words, your eyes widening once again. He loved you? Not only did he want to be your boyfriend, but he also loved you? Your dreams really had come true.

And you loved him too. You loved him with every single part of you and had wanted to tell him for so long, but the words always got stuck in your throat. Now that he had said them first, you definitely didn’t think it was hard anymore.

“I love you too, Eds,” you replied and he pulled you into a kiss, this one deeper and sweeter than the others, as if he was pouring all the love he had for into it. Once he pulled away, you buried your face into his neck, letting sleep claim you, wondering what you were going to dream about now since you finally had everything you could have ever wished for right there in your arms.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader

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blarshwritezz · 1 year ago

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Hey, could you write me a Yandere JUICY gay enemies to loves story? Male yandere enemy x male reader. For example, yandere is such a tsundere when it comes to his love for the reader and his way of showing his love comes out as insults, bullying, etc. and the reader just so hates Yandere but is unaware how much his mean insults, that sometimes come out as hella flirty and gay, turn on the Yandere or how they get incredibly flustered when reader corners them. Just make it hella obviously gay and perhaps with a one-sided sexual tension from the yanderes perceptive if you write NSFW that is, thanks! (You can ignore this request if you want, it's okay :))

Heck yeah I can! But be warned, I've never written nsfw, so it may be bad- but I'll try just for you, anon!

Yandere Enemy x Reader

M yan x M reader (slight context: y'all in college)

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon, slight degration

Another day, another fight between you and Enemy!Yan. The people around you had pretty much become totally numb to your constant bickering.

But to be fair, they wouldn't have to put up with this if he wasn't such a massive prick. You never even did anything! He was the one who kept taunting you.

He shouldn't do that. Nearly every time you retaliate, he ends up fumbling to speak. He's such an idiot, can't take what he dishes out. Absolutely pathetic...

And so here you were. Today's little fight had you pinning him against a wall, trying to keep your voice relatively calm. You caught him taking pictures of you in the damn hall! He was definitely planning to do something with those.

"Don't act so special, I would never ruin my phone with pictures of you!" Lies. He was covering up for the fact that he absolutely was taking pictures of you.

But how could he not? It was your fault you were sexy! You were just infuriating to him. What gave you the right to make him so fucking turned on all the time?!

"Shut up before I make you. Delete those damn pictures." You pressed your body up against him further. You were so close that every breath he took filled his lungs with your scent. You really expected him to not get hard?

Please make him shut up. Please gag him with your cock. Please.

"I don't have pictures of your atrocious face. How thick is your damn skull?" Of course he didn't have pics of your face! Mostly- not from last night at least. He was more focused on your ass other things.

You grabbed his jaw, making him use every fiber of his being to not moan. You gave him a warning, making sure he knew bad things awaited him if you saw some dumbass pictures of you around campus. Oh to know what punishment you would give him...

"You want them gone so damn bad? Delete them yourself!" He wormed his way out from between you and the wall, running off with his phone held above his head.

And of course, you chased after him.

He ran, all the way to his dorm. He threw his phone on his bed, and of course, you went after it. That gave him the perfect chance to lock the door.

You found his phone already unlocked, and when you opened it...

"How do you have all these pictures of m-" He clamped his hand over your mouth before you could finish asking about the photos seemingly taken when you swore you were completely alone in your dorm.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" His other hand slowly slid down your torso, working its way back up from under your shirt. "Always threatening me in ways you know will get me all hot and bothered, then not helping me out. How can you be so mean?"

He pushed you down further on the bed, starting to slowly grind against your thigh. His hand that was under your shirt, gliding over your chest, lowered further and further. All the way to your cock, grasping it through your pants.

You bit his hand as hard as you could, hoping it might help, but the action only elicited a pleasures whimper from him.

"Keep doing that, and make sure to lick it too. You'll need it for what I'm planning."

You squirmed as he lowered your pants and underwear in one swift motion, letting your cock spring free. Embarrassingly enough, you were already hard from all this.

"It's even better up close..."

He could help but give you a hand job. Slow and steady, savoring every second of this. He ran his fingers across each and every vein, keeping his thumb over your tip to stop you from cumming too soon.

Every now and then he'd surprise you; tightening his grip, increasing his speed, stopping for a brief moment just to get right back at it. He was turning you into a whimpering, pathetic mess.

"Fuck, you're so pathetic..." He let go of your mouth in order to hold your thighs apart slightly.

He moved his head between them, taking a nice long lick up your shaft before engulfing you with his mouth. He bobbed his head up and down, swirling his tongue around your tip and making you moan.

"Sto- ngh!~ Fuck..."

He chuckled at your attempt to tell him to stop, the sound vibrating around your dick.

You couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed his hair tightly, forcing yourself all the way down his throat as you came.

He eagerly swallowed your load, choking on it before releasing you from his mouth with a wet pop.

"Fuck, you taste damn good..." He groaned, wiping a few drops of your cum from his chin.

He mixed it with his own spit in his hand, using it to lube up his aching member before flipping you on your stomach and thrusting into you suddenly.

He could've cum right then and there just from feeling your tight asshole squeezing around him, but he held back. Well, not enough to keep himself from pounding into you, regardless of how ready you were or how much you wanted it.

His pace was brutal, every thrust seeming harder and harder. The only way he was able to keep (somewhat) silent was by trailing hickeys down your neck and shoulders, holding your head up by your hair.

"Such a good boy...you my bitch now?" Through grunts and moans he whispered in your ear. "This is what you get for being a damn tease. Fuck...yeah, you're my fucking bitch now. My little bitch boy..."

He started jerking you off again as he rearranged your guts, driving you closer to another climax.

"Now be a good whore and cum for me."

Yet again, as if your body just naturally wanted to do what he said, you bust a nut. And with a few more deep thrusts, so did he, painting your insides white.

He didn't pull out of you for a good few minutes, just laying there and holding you, until finally he whispered: "You didn't think I was done, did you?~"

I think this is the longest one I've done so far! I hope it was satisfactory!

#x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #blarsh writes #male x reader #male yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere x male darling #x male reader #male reader #yandere enemy #enemy yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling

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anashins · 1 year ago

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Hiii maybe you can write smth about a date that goes wrong with Jaehyun? You’ve been dating for a little more than a year and he accidentally takes you to a butterfly garden thinking you’re gonna love it cos you two often go hiking together but he doesn’t know you’re terrified of butterflies and moths.

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Jaehyun always makes sure to take you on special dates. The one he planned for your first anniversary will turn out to be the most memorable though - for all the wrong reasons.

A/N: Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it! :)

“Where will you take me?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jaehyun took you by your hand. “Come!”

When a week ago, he had asked you to dress up cutely and be ready by 11am for celebrating your first anniversary together, you had already wondered what he was planning for your special day.

Out of all common date ideas, you had possibly run through all of them already since it was very important for your boyfriend to take you out to do something extraordinarily nice at least once a week.

From visiting different cinemas to watch a movie you had been anticipating for the longest time, to going hiking together at various places as a hobby you both shared, to the last date being a cooking course where you learned a dish from another country together - Jaehyun was always very creative and would make sure you had a once in a lifetime experience.

So for your first year anniversary, you didn’t expect anything less.

Though, truth to be told, you would also be content with just staying at home, cuddling on the couch and eating delivery pizza every now and then. But whenever you saw your boyfriend already planning a date and looking forward to seeing your happy face, you couldn’t break this truth down to him anymore. You didn’t want to spoil all of his excitement - just like today.

A few metro stations later that still required five minutes of walking, you arrived at your destination.

“We’re here!” Jaehyun exclaimed proudly, having exceeded himself once again.

There was a glass dome stretching out in front of your vision and you could blurrily recognize different trees and plants inside the apparent greenhouse. Nice, you thought, you were going to a botanical garden! You had never been to one and hadn’t visited a country in which a different kind of landscape grew.

But your anticipation was instantly crushed as Jaehyun added,

“It’s a butterfly garden!”

Oh dear god, you silently thought to yourself, this can’t be real.

There were many, many things Jaehyun knew about you after more than a year of dating. But the fact that you were scared of butterflies wasn’t one of them. You had always thought this was kind of ridiculous and childish. After all, butterflies were perceived as something beautiful and nice to look at - not as monsters from hell that you needed to run away from.

But that was how you indeed viewed butterflies. You hated worms and spiders, just anything that didn’t have legs or too many legs, and your boyfriend knew about this, but butterflies were never in anyone’s book’s when you talked about phobias.

Looking at these apparent beautiful creatures, did it fall off everyone’s mind that they had once been caterpillars too? No matter how bright and colorful they were, you could never get past this fact, and that was what made you still scared of them.

“Oh…” It then dawned on Jaehyun. “You hate it.”

“What?” you feigned surprise. You just couldn’t bear looking at his disappointed face after having put so much effort into coming up with such a unique idea. “I love it! Let’s go!”

Flying worms everywhere in a glass prison cell - that was how you saw the entire setup once you stepped foot into the glass dome.

Your hands were cold and sweaty despite Jaehyun’s warm one holding yours. Other people were playfully trying to catch or touch them, some even stood there with butterflies resting on their shoulders, stretched out arms or even faces.

You got this, you were trying to convince yourself. As long as you didn’t move or stayed where there were as few butterflies as possible. Or if you could even noticeably wield them off when they flew too close to you… you would be fine. There was no reason to run away from these pretty creatures, right?

“Let’s go where the most are!” Jaehyun prompted solemnly, and you were actually relieved that he was too excited to notice the mask on your face dropping the further he led you into the garden.

You then stood there among trees, flowers and other plants, petrified, with hundreds of butterflies swirling around you. And then… one landed on your shoulder. You completely lost it.

“I’m so sorry!” you apologized and dashed to the exit, arms flying into every direction, touching god knows what to wield out of your vision.

You let out a suppressed scream when something landed on your face and thus started protecting your head with your hands instead. It was a whole nightmare for you that didn’t stop even when you were outside again, breathing heavily from the panic that had been sitting in your chest all along.

It didn’t take your boyfriend much longer to follow you to the outside, even though in your perception, you had run at the speed of light. In the end, you might have just looked like an idiot who eventually also ruined the precious date Jaehyun had carefully planned for you to enjoy and not flee from.

“Are you okay? What happened back there?” The way he checked up on you and sounded so concerned like something might have truly happened to you, let your bad conscience kick in. “Did something bite you? Should we go to the hospital?”

You suddenly felt so ridiculous.

“No, nothing happened. It’s just…” You inhaled deeply. There was no room to conceal or lie anymore. “I’m scared.”

He was confused. Fair enough. “...of what? There were only plants and butterflies, no?”

“Exactly,” you reluctantly admitted. “...the butterflies.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t understand…”

“I’m afraid of the butterflies!” you finally blurted. “They scare me!”

Jaehyun frowned for a moment, but then his features softened almost instantly. “That’s fine.”

“So…” Your brows skeptically drew together. “You’re not going to say anything about it?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “What am I supposed to say about it?”

“Like… how it’s weird and childish and they won’t attack me anyway as they’re only little insects. How can I, as an adult, be scared of something so small and pretty?”

Your boyfriend stretched out his hand and placed it on your cheek. He looked at you with a warm gaze. “I would never judge you for your fears. You don’t need to justify your feelings to me. Even if you’re scared of cats, without question, I would swoop you up from the ground when we see one and carry you away so that it won’t even approach you.”

How did you ever deserve someone like him? You shifted your head and kissed the back of his hand that made him a bit shy as his cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Thank you.”

“But…” Jaehyun let out a long sigh now, suddenly looking really troubled. “I now have to look for an alternative to celebrate our first anniversary. What could that be? Maybe we can postpone it until next week…”

He had planned so hard and thoroughly for today, he deserved to rest and be treated well too. So you took the burden of deciding off of his shoulders by suggesting, “How about we go to your place, order pizza and watch a movie?”

“... and that’s all?”

“And that’s all. Would you mind doing only that?” you questioned carefully. “I mean… you always plan all these extraordinary dates and my alternative suggestion is probably the most boring one that wouldn’t even cross your mind, but truth to be told… Sometimes, I just like to do that.”

“You do?”

You nodded and chuckled as you said, “I wouldn’t mind only rotting away the entire day as long as it’s with you.”

Your boyfriend didn’t need to speak it out, but you visibly perceived how more relaxed he got once you had told him about your true feelings. A special date once in a while was very nice too, but you didn’t always need extraordinary places, flowers, menus and… butterflies. He could take you to the hardware shop to run errands and you would have fun all the same.

As long as you got to do it with him.

Jaehyun smiled and took your hand into his. “Then let’s do that today. Ordering pizza, watching a movie and rotting away for the rest of the day. Without butterflies.”

He didn’t judge you, but he certainly would make funny comments every now and then.

You stretched out your tongue and laughed.

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #requests

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intimidating-fettuccine · 10 months ago

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hi aubrie ^^

hope you're doing good today. as per my mistake in saturday I'm just feeling something hungry for crumbs about Jeff and little habits he does that are unique to him or a day to day with him as a s/o please.

i apologize again for sending the request on saturday. I hope you have a good morning and THANKS A LOT :))

att. number one aubrie fan

I'm glad you got it back in, and I hope you enjoy :) I decided to sort of combine your ideas.

Also to be fair, since I did this specifically for him and his s/o, if you just wanted to send in a question asking about a few habits of just his I'd be fine not considering that a request since it's just about him and not involving a s/o :p I think I've accepted questions for habits the creeps do and not counted them as requests

Living day-to-day with Jeff is probably more normal than one might expect. He tends to try and take things easy with you when he's spending time alone with you because the rest of his life tends to be a bit hectic and chaotic, so you're his nice, wonderful slice of domestic bliss that he can't help but constantly crave. He's developed a few habits with you over time in your relationship living side by side like this with you, some of them so subconscious he won't realize he has them unless you point them out to him directly, and some of which you can definitely tease him for.

One of those said habits is that every single time he has a rough or tiring day and he's on his way home to you he always texts you, "Snuggles? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻" every single time without fail. It doesn't matter what caused him to send it, it's just his codeword for saying he had a bad day and he wants you to cuddle the fuck out of him when he gets home because he's sad and you always make him feel better. If you're both at home and he's feeling a little sad, rather than texting you, he'll wait for you to walk into the room and pout at you with his arms stretched toward you while making grabby hands to get you to snuggle him. Jeff is handsy in general, and so one of his other habits, this one subconscious, is that if you're next to him he's going to fidget with you in some way. If you're sitting next to him, he's gonna be squeezing your thighs or wrapping his arm around you. If you're walking side by side, that arm is back around you or he's holding your hand and squeezing it in random patterns. If he's sitting next to you and bored he tends to pull your hand into his lap and play with it with both of his, rotating your hand around and playing with your fingers, just absentmindedly fidgeting with it, which is quite amusing to watch. The other creeps have also started teasing him for that one, as they always say they know when Jeff wants to leave and is done socializing because he's playing with your hand.

As I've said before, he makes it a habit to make you breakfast as often as he can, and he makes the best fucken pancakes. Another thing he does is that if he's starting to space out if he's standing behind you he'll spread out his legs and sort of bounce back and forth and start poking your back in random places while he does so. When he's spending time with you if the two of you see something even remotely cute he always points at it and very quickly says "That's you!" and if you try to counter him and say it's him instead he'll have a mini sassy argument with you over how it's obviously you, going back and forth with you. Also, absolutely randomly tickles you to try and catch you off guard, although he stops when you ask him to. He also encourages you to randomly tickle him as well to see if you can catch him off guard. When you're going to sleep together sometimes I think he likes to burrito you in the blankets, wrapping you up really tightly, and he'll just pull you between his legs so you're laying on his chest and he'll hold you and nuzzle into the top of your head or your neck and call you his little burrito or his little worm. He's also made it a habit whenever you're both going to bed to every night watch an episode or two of something with you so the two of you can watch new things together and just settle down together. He enjoys doing domestic things like that with you the most because it gives him some sort of semblance of normalcy amidst his very non-normal life, and that's one of the reasons he's so grateful to have you because you do that for him. He loves you so, so incredibly much, and he's so thankful to have you with him.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanon #jeff the killer x reader

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ryuichirou · 8 months ago

Text

Replies

We just got back from an oceanarium where we spent 1.5 hours trying to find moray eels and then half an hour hanging out in front of their tank, so I’m pretty tired and won’t write a lot of replies today… sorry! At least I can show you these doofuses that I drew as we were watching them lol They are so delightfully dorky.

They had a giant octopus there too, but it didn’t want to come out and say hi, so the only thing that we saw was a small part of its tentacle. Azul being misanthropic once again…

Anyways, replies! Related to my Ortho/Idia drawing from yesterday.

characharing asked:

THAT ART WITH BIG ORTHO AND SMOL IDIA, I'M RABID, THANK YOU, I DIDN'T EXPECT TO EAT GOOD TODAY

YOU’RE WELCOME, PLEASE ENJOY!!! I am so happy you liked this one!!

eh-nonnie-mouse asked:

Big Ortho is Big cute. Give Onii-san lots of kisses he deserves them!!!

So I have my notifications turned on for you and when I did a preview I saw Big Ortho and a fuzzy string of blue coming out his nose 😂. I was very confused for half a second. Also Idia's hair looks like one of those felt slinky worm things that my cats used to play with (before they decided eating the long colorful this was a good idea and had that toy quickly revoked) and I was thinking Idia asking Ortho "would you love me if I was a worm?" And it being a fiery furry worm in his hand.

He’s about to kiss him once for every day of their separation! Niichan is about to get a loooot of kisses!

Oh my god, he would absolutely still love Idia if he was a worm… Isn’t Idia already kind of a worm? In a way. A little bit. Philosophically.

I think your cat would love to play with his hair LOL I also hope it’s feeling okay after such sudden dietary changes!

#replies #ryuichirouart

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bryngmemoney · 1 year ago

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✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: death joke, worms (maybe?)

lots of Writing between Messages!!

🪡Chapter Twenty-seven: Fixing him

“Megumi,”

“hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you didn’t notice it , but he tightened his grip on the wheel, his other hand that was by his side he used to pinch the fabric of his pants.

“You just seem quiet, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, but you never told me where we were going.”

“Oh right!” to be honest you had completely forgotten you hadn’t told him, and you did promise you’d say where the morning of. “It’s a little book cafe! My friend recommended it to me, I thought it seemed fitting.”

“So, you’ve been here before with them?” he questioned. “Nope, we can try it out together.” He smiled a little, and you did notice that, happy to at least get a little more emotion out of him.

“Hi! Welcome in,” A girl with a short brown bob looked up to you and Megumi walking in, adjusting herself at the front of the counter next to a bakery display waiting for you to approach.

“Hi,” you greeted back.

“Do you two need help with anything?”

“Not looking for anything particular, thank you though,” you answered, turning to look at Megumi only to see him already looking around the place, specifically staring off towards a shelf of books.

“Ok, well let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded as the girl went back to her previous task. There were only a couple of other people inside the place, probably less than ten. It was larger than you expected it to be from the outside exterior, but still very homey. You had just begun to take a few steps in, only for Megumi to grab your hand and lead the way.

“Look,” he said once stopping in front of a shelf, picking a book out and handing it to you. “One of my favorites.” You were a little taken aback, but just smiled looking at it, front and back, trying to figure out what it was. “How is your eyesight that good you saw this from the entrance?”

“Can you do that again?” You looked up, only to see him pull out a smaller camera from his jacket’s pocket. Smaller than the one you had seen him with before. How did you not notice he was carrying that?

“Uhm, okay,” and you repeated your action, feeling slightly strange, but at least he seemed more alive now.

“Thank you.” His smile at that moment was contagious, seeming genuinely happy.

“Was that just for you or for your project?” you asked, mirroring his expression.

“Do you want your hint for the day?”

“Yes please.” He leaned his camera towards you, showing you the four photos he took, “They are for the project,” he informed.

“What’s wrong with your loaf?”

“What?” Megumi looked up from his page, eyes wide full of confusion.

“The pastry you ordered, you took two bites and haven’t touched it since.” You had been watching Megumi for the past thirty minutes he’s been sitting across from you. Although you both originally started with conversation that had slowly filed down into you guys reading what you had chosen. You thought back to what Nobara had said over text and couldn’t help but think maybe she was right. He’d probably be happy if you had just taken him outside then given him a book.

“Oh,” he looked down next to him, starring at the piece of bread on the small plate, “It’s just.. too sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

He looked back up at you, shrugging before picking up his mug taking a sip of his dark coffee. “I’m not really a fan of sweets.” He placed the cup back down, then went back to reading.

“You’re such an interesting man Megumi.”

“Really?” he questioned looking back up to you.

“You’re interesting to me.” He just looked at you, both of you making eye contact for a few seconds, and he failed to look away on time so you wouldn’t see the pink dusting his face. “Thanks I guess.”

Author’s Note: concrete🎀

um so complications irl, am not able to finish the next chapter today, will post two chapters for tomorrows update promise 😊🤞

hope you guys enjoyed!!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @renemy @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @nishii28 @arguendo @samutoru @hallothankmas @invisible-mori @aiserex @all-in-the-fandoms @milza12 @nyxlai @daintyminho @tokyodarlng @molovs

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fan-fantasies · 2 years ago

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Jealousy and Dreams

A/N: this is definitely a bit out of my comfort zone and not what I usually write, but I’m in love with this woman! This will be the first part in probably a two part mini-series. Also on a side note, tomorrow is the last day at my job before I start a new one next week! Breezy and I both are starting new adventures and I couldn’t be more excited for us.

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: we’re gonna pretend Buddy doesn’t exist, swearing, mentions of a wet dream

Rhea tossed and turned in the uncomfortable hotel bed. No matter how hard she tried, sleep couldn’t find her. You were lucky, however, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow in the bed next to hers. She sighed, staring at your sleeping form.

This wasn’t the first time you had shared a room, far from it. You had grown close with Rhea and the rest of judgement day over the last couple months. You were a new ring announcer and backstage interviewer, and while you were intimidated by them at first, you came to learn just how kind they all were.

Rhea always offered to room with you and you thought it was sweet; and Rhea thought you were sweet- and funny and smart and probably the most gorgeous girl she’s ever seen. But she’d never tell you that- you saw her as a friend and nothing more.

So with that, Rhea began to drift off to sleep with thoughts of you filling her head- until she heard what sounded like a moan falling from your lips. At first, she thought you were hurt, but with each passing moment it sounded more like pleasure than pain.

Her body went rigid, fighting the urge to climb into your bed and calm you. She didn’t want to wake you and risk the embarrassment you might feel so she laid there and listened to the sweet sounds fill the air. You began to rustle around slightly, your whimpers increasing. Rhea was in near physical pain; on one side she had been dreaming of hearing those noises, just in a very different context, and on the other side she felt like a perv for listening. How hadn’t you woken yourself up?!

A few more moments of torture passed before she heard you let out a huff before stilling. She figured your dream hadn’t been enough for you so maybe your brain went in a different direction.

Rhea laid there and stared at the ceiling, now feeling frustrated herself. Sleep would now be impossible.

Morning rolled around and Rhea slept horribly. You seemed to wake up rather cranky but Rhea didn’t mention it.

The guys from JD came by soon after you had woken up with coffee and breakfast.

“You guys are lookin rough,” Finn commented.

“Gee thanks,” you chuckled dryly.

“Slept like shit,” Rhea added.

“Well drink some coffee and perk up, we gotta talk strategy,” Dom said.

You listened to them as they discussed tonight’s show, glancing at Rhea every so often only to find her already looking at you. You could feel the heat rush to your face, and core, every time you made eye contact. You’d never tell her, but your wet dream was about her. You were well aware she only thought of you as a friend so why open that can of worms.

Dom’s phone ringing broke your train of thought.

“It’s my girl, I’ll be right back,” he said with a boyish smile on his face.

“Aww how cute,” Finn teased him. You let out a sigh subconsciously making everyone turn to look at you. Your eyes widened.

“Jealous?” Rhea asked sarcastically.

“It would just be nice to have something like that,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean…you could. How bout you come back to my room after the show later and we can talk about it,” Damian smirked. Rhea shot daggers at him but he just shrugged at her. She knew he had a little crush on you, she just never expected he’d act on it. Selfishly, she hoped you didn’t return his feelings.

“Or! She could come back here with me; we could cuddle and watch a movie,” Rhea offered.

“That does sound nice,” you agreed. Damian scoffed and shot Rhea a disapproving glare.

“It’s a plan then, babe,” Rhea winked. The two of you were no stranger to flirting, but after your dream, her words held more weight.

Dom came back in and they finished discussing the upcoming show. Hair and makeup was shortly after the meeting so you departed with your friends and tried to focus on work.

You loved your job, and you were good at it. You enjoyed everyone in the company and they made it feel like home for you. Being on camera took some getting used to but the WWE universe quickly warmed up to you.

Judgement Day was out first, Finn and Dom having a tag match against Sami and Kevin. Rhea and Damian stayed ringside, heckling the champions and cheering on their boys. Damian ended up on your side of the ring and blew you a kiss. You put on an animated surprised act, deep down knowing he was just joking around. He shot you a wink and Rhea noticed.

She sauntered over to you with her cocky ringside persona and kneeled down next to you. The cameras were on you instead of the guys.

“Enjoying the match, gorgeous?” She asked. You simply nodded, your nerves eating away at you from the attention of the gorgeous woman.

“Good,” she said before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Your stunned look wasn’t for show, you truly were surprised she did that. Your mind was too busy reeling to notice Rhea smirk at Damian.

Sami was eventually thrown from the ring, landing near your feet. Rhea ran over and picked him up, tossing him back toward the ring.

“Get away from her!” She yelled. “I’ve got you, babe.”

“My savior,” you chuckled.

The match eventually ended with some others coming out to help keep Judgement Day at bay while Sami and Kevin secured the win. JD hobbled back up the ramp, looking as angry as ever, but you couldn’t help the smile on your face that was there ever since Rhea had kissed you.

The show continued as normal and you ended up backstage to do an interview. It was with Sonya Deville, who you were friendly with. Rhea was actually supposed to interrupt and challenge Sonya to a match.

Before the cameras came on, you were chatting and laughing with Sonya- not about anything in particular but it caught Rhea’s attention.

The camera’s start rolling as you put on your professional persona but still kept it friendly.

“Sonya, how are you feeling tonight?” You asked.

“Better now that you’re here,” she joked. “I’m feeling good, I feel ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready for me? I don’t think so,” Rhea said, coming into frame. “I don’t think you could handle me.”

“Handle you? I could destroy you. Isn’t that right?” She said, looking to you. You did your best “deer caught in headlights” look as you stood between them.

“Yeah, okay. Prove it- you and me- match, tonight.” Rhea snapped.

“You’re on! Just make sure you’re ringside,” Sonya said, playing with a piece of your hair.

“Hands off!” Rhea said, off-script. She threw her arm around your shoulder and pulled you off camera, leaving Sonya looking frustrated.

The camera’s cut and you let out a deep breath.

“Nice improv,” you complimented.

“Thanks,” she said, flashing you an award winning smile that made your heart stop.

“So I guess I’ll see you out there?”

“Sure will, gorgeous. Don’t forget our movie night later.”

“We room together; I don’t think I could forget if I tried,” you laughed.

You went back to the ring so you could announce the women’s match. It wasn’t a title match, but a contender’s one. Sonya was a great wrestler, but she was chopped liver compared to Rhea.

Rhea saw her take one look in your direction and promptly kicked her ass. One riptide later and any hope Sonya had of a title match was squashed.

You went into the ring and grabbed Rhea’s hand, throwing it in the air as you declared her winner.

“See ya later, sweetheart,” she said as she exited the ring.

The show finished and you made your way to the locker rooms so you could change and take off your makeup. You worked quickly, hoping to get back to the hotel as quick as possible.

“I’m sorry if I fall asleep during the movie, I’m beat,” you said as you and Rhea went back to your room.

“No worries, maybe cuddling will help me sleep better tonight,” she chuckled. You hid your face, knowing you’d give away your nervousness at the thought of being pressed against her.

“I’m gonna change into my pjs and brush my teeth,” you said, heading into the bathroom. You changed and before you could get your toothbrush ready, you heard a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Rhea opened it and came in.

“I have an idea,” she said, holding up her phone. “Just go about your business.”

“Okay?”

You started to brush your teeth, watching her curiously in the mirror. She placed her hand on your hip and took a picture, quickly posting it to her Instagram story captioned “the match isn’t the only thing I won tonight.” tagging both you and Sonya. You couldn’t help but feel electricity where her hand was sitting on your side.

“You couldn’t even have taken one where I look cute?” You said, wiping your mouth.

Rhea looked down at you with an amused look as you pouted.

“Fine, stay like that, it’s cute.”

She stuck her tongue out at you and quickly snapped another one, posting it with “she insisted on a ‘cute’ one 🙄”

“Happy?” She asked.

“Thrilled,” you chuckled. You went to sit in bed while she got changed and did her nightly routine. You scrolled through the movies for a few minutes before laying back and closing your eyes.

“You really aren’t gonna make it through a movie,” she laughed, emerging from the bathroom. She joined you in bed and cuddled close to you.

“I’m just so tired. It feels like I barely slept last night- like I was restless or something,” you sighed. You felt her body stiffen a bit at your words.

“Yeah, I, uh, didn’t sleep well either,” she mumbled. “Better luck tonight then.”

“Hm I hope so.”

Rhea’s mind began to wander. What if you had another dream like you did last night while she was next to you? She felt wrong for even thinking about it but she couldn’t help it.

“Are you okay?” You asked, turning to look at her. She looked down at you and her breath caught in her throat.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about sleep?”

“We can just go to sleep if you want, we don’t have to watch a movie,” you said, turning to grab the remote. She quickly stopped you, tugging you back toward her.

“No! A movie still sounds great,” she rushed out. The two of your stared at each other for a moment and just when you thought she was going to lean in, a knock came from the door.

“Expecting someone?” You asked, getting up to answer it. She just shrugged before you looked through the peephole.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, opening the door.

“I thought it was movie night?” Damian asked, feigning innocence.

“I don’t think you were invited,” Rhea told him sternly.

“Rude. I’m totally down for a movie and cuddles,” he said. He plopped onto the bed next to Rhea and she shoved him aside.

“That’s her spot.”

“Well now it’s mine.”

“It’s literally her bed!”

“So why don’t you go get in your own?”

“I was here first.”

“Guys! I’ll just sit over here, it’s fine,” you said, plopping down onto Rhea’s bed.

“Say cheese!” Damian said, holding up his phone so he could get all three of you. You covered your face and Rhea looked pissed.

“Three’s company!” -he posted on his story. Rhea reposted it with “more like three’s a crowd 😒”

While scrolling on her phone real quick she saw the picture of the two of you in the bathroom had been reposted by a fan page. The caption read “I ship it” but that’s not what caught her attention; in the comments you wrote, “so do I!” in reply.

Rhea looked over at you and smiled, which you easily returned. Damian chose a movie to put on and Rhea got up and joined you in her bed.

He shot her a look that said “really?” to which she just shrugged. Surprisingly, Damian was the first to fall asleep, but you were quick to follow. Rhea pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before dozing off to sleep herself, hoping dreams of you would soon find her.

—————

Part two out now 🖤

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfiction #wwe #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley fluff

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