#i watch/read weird things in my free time
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Aw, thanks for the tag!
What’s the origin of your blog name?: It was originally something different, but that name was derived from two specific fandoms. As I started branching out into other fandoms, though, having a very specific name just didn’t seem right, so I changed it to a name that was a little more all-encompassing.
OTP(s) + Shipname: Dang, I have so many. First it was Jaya and Kailor from Ninjago. Then it was Shualt from Beyblade Burst. More recently, I’ve slowly been becoming more and more obsessed with Codywan from Clone Wars. Along with Rexiyo. They’ve kind of been growing on me.
Favorite color: Any shade of blue!
Favorite game: I don’t really play any games, but I do like to watch gameplays. Jacksepticeye and CoryxKenshin are my two current favorite gamers.
Song stuck in your head: Breathe by Olly Alexander.
Weirdest trait/habit: I pick my split ends. I’ve taken to having a pair of scissors next to me when I’m working so that I don’t damage my hair further.
Hobbies: Reading, writing, drawing, and scrolling through social media. Problem is I often can’t decide which one to focus on during my free time, so I more often then not revert to the fourth option.
If you work, what’s your profession?: I’m a kitchen worker. Trust me, it’s a very messy business.
If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?: My dream job is to be a writer/illustrator, who doesn’t necessarily make millions, but certainly makes enough to keep herself comfortable.
Something you’re good at: I’ve been told my drawings and short stories are good.
Something you’re bad at: ANYTHING WITH NUMBERS.
Something you love: My family, hanging out, not a care in the world.
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: THE CLONES OF THE REPUBLIC. I WILL SPEAK AT LENGTH ABOUT HOW THEY DESERVED BETTER.
Something you hate: ANYTHING WITH NUMBERS.
Something you collect: I’m kind of embarrassed to say this, but I take screenshots of fanfics that I like so that I don’t have to scroll through dozens of media just to find it again.
Something you forget: A lot of things. So many things that I forgot how long the list is.
What’s your love language?: I don’t have a partner at the moment, but if I had one, I’d say small moments together and small gifts.
Favorite movie/show: Clue. It was the first true mystery classic that my parents introduced me to and still makes me laugh to this day.
Favorite food: Anything with pasta. Love me a bowl of noodles!
Favorite animal: Dogs. They’re too good for us, even though they (mine in particular) drive us crazy.
What were you like as a child?: Very very weird and naive. I said the weirdest things and thought they were the truth. Probably made my parents very concerned a few times.
Favorite subject at school: English or Art. I loved having an excuse to stare at paper for a while.
Least favorite subject: ANYTHING WITH NUMBERS.
What’s your best character trait?: Connect with me on my fixations, and I will be your friend for life.
What’s your worst character trait?: I hate to admit it, but I’m selfish. When I’m put in a situation, I’ll consider the other party, but I’ll also think about how I play into it.
If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?: I’d be less dependent on others and more dependent on myself.
If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: Amelia Earhart. I’d like to meet the woman paved the way for women everywhere before she, you know, vanished off the face of the Earth.
Tag as many mutuals as you want! (no pressure): @littledudeholland @pixanefan @give-me-your-heart @mellow-lynx and whoever else wants to join!
Get to know your mutuals!
What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!
OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad
Favorite color: Red!
Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!
Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC
Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol
Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!
If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!
If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha
Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.
Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.
Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas
Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.
Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha
Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately
What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service
Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha
Favorite food: Sushi!
Favorite animal: Cats!
What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do
Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class
Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol
What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others
What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that
If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically
If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy
Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!
@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer
ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!
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such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨
#(please forgive this old folk’s rambling for a hot min bc i need to get this off my chest somehow and in some way)#tl;dr: come and get into the hw idol series!!! we have ship discourse; more ship discourse; even more ship discourse#(yes ik people should be free to ship what they do b u t claiming a noncanon ship as canon and forcing it on everyone else is. not cool.)#yes yes friday’s mv was visually cute and ino.rin’s singing was peak b u t i feel like it has caused more harm than good in some way???#i cant b e l i e v e the jp hwtwt beef over friday’s mv is still going on mannnnnnnnn#no less than 3 separate people have made posts along the lines of#‘p l s stop using [official tags] to post about *[unnamed] non-official ships* p l s there’s a time and place for everything’#and n o n e of them even remotely run in the same circles yet they’re all banded together against a *certain* group lmfao never change hwtwt#lhy (esp yhy) shippers are always at the scene of the crime mannnnnnn#i cant see anything on their end of the naval battle (has every single lhy tag+account that i could think of blocked)#b u t it’s still really funny to witness on my twtdash against my will. i think i need to touch grass#‘kyhn isn’t canon either so why do you like it while being such a hater towards lhy—‘#great question!!!!!! it’s bc (disregarding the movie) they actually interact really well together~~~ like the honeypre event y k—#and also bc yukki treats hina really nicely all the time (even when she was being tsun and literally running from her feelings for him)#a n d hina loved him for who he truly was; even before his image change arc. and she also does her best to appeal to him and such~~~~~~~#but lhy. uh. they just bully hiyo 95% of the time and while they do look out for her bc they’re pals#they’re just pals. guys. and lxl have gone ‘uwu it must be u uwu’ to each other one too many times so shoehorning hiyo between them would.#be pretty weird ngl? esp since the ‘widely accepted’ portrayal of lhy as a trio is p much just hiyo x 2 dudes who dont even like each other#and. like. a branch of such portrayals usually seem to have aizo waft away from the ‘r/s triad’ to date mona instead which is. very weird.#some people just pick and choose aizo and mona interactions dont they. all they see is the umbrella scene and go ‘ah yes. canon’#they dont even read further to see how mona doesn’t even use the umbrella after aizo leaves (clear rejection)#a n d how aizo doesn’t even remember giving the umbrella to mona + mona’s entire existence in general after that#and that’s not even counting the grudge mona refuses to let go of even after what looks to be literal months#so for certain shippers to just casually shoo aizo out of the hiyoharem and into mona’s unwilling arms for the sake of yhy is. weird.#and like. shouldn’t he and yujiro have a say in this?? they’re more interested in each other than hiyo so just how are they being commonly#portrayed as hiyosimps in fanon? im so confused… like. wouldn’t they be equally obsessed with each other (as w/ hiyo) if they were a rstrio?#aaaaaa get this off my twtdash plsssssssss pls see this post twtapp pls let this affect your dumb algorithm im tired of the ship discourseee#as funny as the ‘lhy vs the world’ naval warfare is it’s getting. um. very annoying!!!! and now im missing nagisa more than ever s o b s#plsplsplsplsplsplsplsplspls influence the algorithm ragepost; ik big brother is 👀watching👀 so do your thing—#(pls feel free to duke it out with me too if y’all read this i need my birdsite algorithm to le a r n that i dont wanna see stuff like this)
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5, 10, 20, and 25 for fic in review ask thing!!!
5. What ships captured your heart?
I am a gen writer through and through, so it's a very rare thing to see me writing a ship-focused fic. That said, I really enjoyed the pairing of Karlach and Astarion this year, though I wouldn't say I shipped them necessarily in a romantic sense. The fic I wrote that had them together had their relationship tagged '(it's fairly ambigious; is it romantic? queerplatonic? platonic? yes), (the love and devotion is there regardless)' which I think basically sums up how I view them (and also how aromantic I am about shipping 😅).
I also liked Billford, but in a strictly 'oh yeah they're super divorced, they are never getting back together' kind of way. Not sure if that counts as shipping, but hey, it's definitely counts as something.
10. What fic was the most satisfying to write?
I would have to say either 'The Poetics of Space' (Gravity Falls) or 'On Waxen Wings We Soar, In Spite of Inevitable Ends' (Baldur's Gate 3). They were the two fics I was the most happiest with this year, not only regarding the quality of the writing itself and the themes they explored (the constance of change not only in the world but also ourselves, and finding joy in and making peace with the time you have left), but also how they tied everything together in their conclusions. Both of them equally made me feel a 'wow..I did that' feeling of accomplishment when I finished them, so yeah, they both were absolutely the most satisfying to write.
20. Share your funniest line.
Being more of angst-based writer kinda limits my collection of comedic lines (even my more comedic story this year was extremely angsty), but there was one line I wrote this year that got a couple comments about it making the reader laugh, so I'll go with that one (because if two people found it funny, surely it must be, right):
“You try fixing an interdimensional portal for thirty years without learning physics," (Stanley) said. "I know what quarks are now. Do you know how much I hate knowing what quarks are.”
25. How did you recharge between fics?
Usually I'd spend the first few days after finishing a fic trying to figure out the what the heck to do with the spare time I had previously allocated to writing said fic, and then once I figured that out (and had yet to be overcome with the urge to write something else), I'd probably watch a TV show, read a book, play video games, and do some art. I'm boring like that.
Send me a number!
#ask#ask game#writer ask game#writing stuff#fanfic stuff#thanks for the numbers/questions friend!#and sorry for the slight delay in answering! my day was a bit busier than i expected#here's some extra stuff for each question because tags allow for more silly additions:#i'm weird in that my favourite ships are those that don't kiss on the lips/have on-screen sex. and not in a will-they-won't-they kind of wa#just...love expressed in a way that can't be easily catergorised by the oft black-and-white fandom view of romantic-or-platonic#why's it gotta be one or the other. can't it be one AND the other. can't it be neither. can't it be anything you want it to be?#which is to say i'm super hecking aroace and man QPRs are cool aren't they?#my basis for satisfying fic: the themes i myself wrote to be emotional turned on me and made *me* emotional. in a good way#and also if someone loves it enough to make fanart about it which did happen with 'on waxen wings'.#a lot of my comedic lines in my *actually* comedic fic were only funny because of set up in the paragraphs leading up to them#so alas they didn't fit the bill. but shoutout to my socialist ducks. you will always be funny to me#the recharge question is funny because for me my relationship with writing and my free time essentially sums up to this:#me when i'm writing: arggh so much writing. when i finish this I'll have more time to catch up on i want to watch/play/read/listen to#me when i'm not writing: ...i miss writing :( *proceeds to not catch up on most of things i wanted to watch/play/read/listen to*#and that's it! thanks again for the ask! :D
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i think its really fitting that the "this shit........ is so ass :'') " anime girl reaction image is from oshi no ko because that is also what my expression was like the whole time while reading the entire last third of the story
#theres like what. one or two chapters left? we are almost free. we are almost free#i hope they make the adaptations better. its such a weird ass manga#like it started solid albeit full of hashtag anime weirdness so a bit of a hard sell#and then like for a while there it was just like a genuinely good showbiz drama. the best arc was the stageplay arc we know this#although one thing about it that ive always noticed. for a manga with a premise about like. isekai idol revenge thriller. its like#so uninterested in idols? like while the showbiz entertainment industry drama was pretty great at times it like. ignored the idol side#like it did a tiny bit of stuff here and there but by the second half it had completely forgotten about it LOL#im curious if the anime and live drama will expand that more. the anime has lots of like tie in idol songs ive noticed#MY THOUGHTS on how the finale's been going: the character motivations are genuinely incomprehensible to me now like#the antagonists motivations and character and everything got so deflated i couldnt track it anymore#BUT i do think its bold to kill off ur protag like that. was it done well? not really no LOL#BUT it was bold. i think my eyes were so glazed over around then that such a last minute turn like that... it kinda ruled <3#i think theres been leaks about the last chapter or two? which i havent seen yet. but yeah rn thats where my opinion is#still love the music from the anime tho even tho i never watched it. also again even though the character motivations got like#so muddled and deflated by the end that i dont even know what the eye star symbolism is going for anymore -#I STILL think those eye stars rule thats a really great 00s shoujo manga esque character design choice#edit: TURNS OUT THE LAST CHAPTER WAS OUT i read it.... :') this shit. truly was ass
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i think it should be mandatory that everyone watch The Social Dilemma at least once every six months
#dear everyone saying that tumblr doesn't have an algorithm: yes it does oh my GOD.#i see people say this so often irt twitter and reddit migration#just because tumblr has a different feed system to facebook/inta/twitter doesn't mean the only things you see are exactly what you want#free of influence or coercion#simplest example is tumblr suggesting users and tags for u to follow. what do you think is informing its suggestions?#how does it know which blogs are similar? it's not by fucking chance#please i know we all clown on what a mess this website is and how poorly it delivers ads but let's not forget that that's a choice they mak#if tumblr wanted to deliver ads in the way other social media sites do they could. but it's part of the image they've created for themselve#hence why they feel they can offer a paid subscription to remove ads that has an off switch so u can still see their weird crazy zany ads#because they know how much we love to clown on their shit ads. they know users will screenshot and share ads if they're weird enough#and they want you to. they're not so incompetent that they can't get us classy ads lol. this is their brand. let's not forget that!#anyway this is all triggered by me sending someone (hi bunni <3) a post of misha collin's sfx make up in gotham knights that popped up as a#recommended post despite me never having watched it or searched for it etc. what triggered that post appearing was me searching/tagging spn#a couple times recently. and of course misha collins and spn are frequently cross tagged. anyway since then i have been bombarded with that#godforsaken show constantly on my dash#sorry to gotham knights enjoyers i get the appeal and i am a dc simp but it's just not for me ig#if u read all this i love u im kissing you sloppystyle and or giving u a firm and warm handshake and or a friendly nod like we're walking#past each other on a beautiful day <3#my post
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i do acknowledge i need to watch what i say wrt gender women men cis ppl etc just augh.
#its like. im a trans man 100% i want nothing to do w being seen as a women i acknowledge that. i also acknowledge that I am putting#literally zero effort in my irl life to present as a guy at all. partially lack of resources and embarrassment etc stuff like that partiall#the autism i literally look in a mirror and see a guy#and i go to class go to work and until soemone explicitally refers to me as a woman i think of myself as a guy. so like its this weird#disconnect of what i actually do vs what i percieve as expieriencing in my daily life where i am objectively living#as a cis woman who just dresses and acts a bit masc. lol.#and like that doesnt bother me atm until i get to a setting where i am gendered frequently. then i feel nauseas etc but whatever ill deal#so i always hesitate whenever i talk abt women feminism men makeup beauty expectations etc (also i am mixed thai and white which#def plays into everyhting ofc ofc) as i dont know rly what is like. not fine idc if i say smthn uncouth just i dont want to at all#seem like im doing what these other trans guys do and latch onto my femininity and 'girlhood growing up' etc or like#its all dumb to me ofc im a feminist i consider anything i speak abt feminism free the nipple being against gender essiantialism etc etc#as in feminism (not that women arent/cant be femnists just in terms of im not trying to sound like a woman) and#ofc growing up as and my current life experiences have obvi had a large impact on myself how i veiw the world my political beliefs and all.#but like. im always scared it sounds like im idr the phrase someone else used but a i dont want to seem like im latching onto girlhood as#a failsafe or whatever. its just mm ykwim its a weird feeling. cause like im a 21 year old man and read my posts as such el oh el.#idk its all weird and idk if its a specific to me thing or whattttt it just like. i feel silly sometimes and i dont want my points to be#misconstrued :) anyways me posting this after rewatching and posting abt pearl has nothign to do genuinly lmfao just timing its been#on my mind after that dumbass trans guy posting abt the lonelyness he feels abt abandoning womanhood#after watching barbie. lol and then i saw someone in the comments of some ig quote it w like 30 replies all positive like get a lifeee#i understand it can feel isolating being trans and everyones relationship back to womanhood is diff and complecated but by god. shut up#anywayyyyyssss mmm okay im done whateverr#maybe all a fear in my head and literally none of this has every crossed anyones mind however it bothers me :(
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It's a weird fucking feeling realising that you actually have to plan ahead for and schedule in the things you like to do, as well as the things you have to do.
I don't mean the complicated stuff, that's a given.
If I'm going to the cinema, then I accept I'm going to have to look up film times and buy tickets and figure out when I'm going to leave the house. If I'm going to visit a friend who lives in a different county, then I accept that I'm going to probably be looking up travel times and planning activities and where to eat and what time we'll be doing what, for possibly days beforehand.
But its even the fucking lowkey stuff. If I want to watch a tv show, I have to plan time out of my day to do it, and I don't always get round to it. If I have a whole day free for some reason, and I decide I want to watch a film (at home, on the sofa) and I don't lay out a plan for when I'm going to do that and how long I'm going to take, then it just won't happen.
If I want to go for a walk just around my local area before it gets dark, or eat something with a slightly longer cooking time, or write my diary, or read a book I've been looking forward to reading, or even read fucking fanfiction that is longer than about 8000 words, then I have to set some sort of plan beforehand.
Like, I know intellectually that executive dysfunction affects more than just the things you don't enjoy doing. But fuck it doesn't really hit you until you realise that you haven't sat down to watch an episode of that show you like for over a week, even though you can't really name any activities you've been doing or commitments you have that would make it impossible to do so.
Anyway, this is a reminder to people who struggle with that sort of thing: schedule your days off, lest they be swallowed by the Pit before you get the chance to do anything fun with them.
#executive function#autism#adhd#audhd#(i don't know if i actually have adhd or not#but i finally have an assessment booked for march!)
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twitch streamer reader x yandere! lawyer who watches you in his free time. he didn't expect to get this attached to some streamer who basically plays games for a living but here we are.
"chat you can't call me a loser, i bet you guys don't even touch grass."
oh?
he decides to take this as a chance to finally interact with you outside of his online stalking and numerous donations. perhaps you'll even find him interesting, ask more, your chat ships you both then you and him get married-
okay he's daydreaming again.
"im not a loser."
misosoup has donated $25!
"lies! everyone who watches me is a loser rotting at home!"
misosoup has donated $50!
"yo misosoup guy! thanks so much for the donations dude what the heck?!"
he snickers, shifting on the leather chair of his office. the chair creaks under his weight, his hands flying across his keyboard as he focuses on your response to his words. so cute.
he really hadn't expected to get this attached. not when he had watched numerous other streamers and not feel a single thing for them. in fact, he'd get bored easily within the first... few seconds. he thought his dopamine receptors were fried 💀
nope, it just turns out he hadn't met you.
"actually im a lawyer :)"
..
...
silence washes over you and you immediately tweak out. the lawyer could only watch in amusement as he pulls out his credit card to donate yet another absurd amount of money to someone he hasn't even met in real life. soon though. soon.
"what the balls i have a lawyer in my stream?!"
yes, and this lawyer especially loves you. have fun being spoiled by him! and make sure not to sign any weird contracts without reading everything first too! wouldn't wanna... accidentally sign your life away! haha!
#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere concepts#yandere lawyer#yandere lawyer x reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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How's retirement, Bucky? | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Themes: Funny. Bucky trying to find things to do to kill time, while also being a menace to Y/N and the neighbours. Prequel to 'Ouch, My face.'
Summary: Bucky decides to retire and leave the super hero world behind, but now he doesn't know how to be normal citizen.
A/N: Just another scenario tha rudely popped into my head. . .
Bucky Barnes was retired.
It still felt strange, even after months of settling into a life of quiet mornings and unhurried afternoons. He had fought in wars, spent decades as an agent of chaos, and dedicated years to redemption and healing. Now, here he was—waking up whenever he pleased, making breakfast in a house that didn’t have bullet-proof glass windows or a panic room, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.
Today, like most others, started off simple enough: a run through the neighbourhood, a cup of coffee, and a lazy scan of the news. He’d even managed to fix the leaky faucet that had been bothering you for weeks, earning a soft kiss on the cheek as a reward.
But then… the day stretched on. There were no missions, no tactical planning, no world to save. Just the quiet ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of suburban life around him.
So, Bucky set his sights on something—or rather, someone—far more interesting: annoying you.
And thus began the saga of Bucky Barnes’ Retirement Phases.
Phase 1: The Handyman Hero Phase
Duration: One Month
Bucky started off strong, becoming the ultimate handyman of the household. Everything was fair game for improvement. Leaky faucets, creaky floorboards, wobbly shelves—if there was a screw to tighten, Bucky was on it like a well-oiled machine.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” you asked one morning, sipping your coffee as you watched him carefully measuring the distance between each picture frame on the living room wall.
“Making sure they’re exactly one inch apart,” he said without looking up, his voice deadly serious.
“Why?”
“Because last night, I noticed this one—” he pointed to a frame on the far left “—was slightly off-center, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”
You blinked. “Bucky, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s one and a quarter inch apart. Do you know what happens when things aren’t balanced?” He gave you a haunted look, as if you’d just suggested destabilizing the world order.
“Chaos,” you muttered.
“Exactly.”
Within weeks, Bucky had rebuilt half the house, repainted the walls (twice), and installed a state-of-the-art security system that even Tony Stark would envy. You came home one day to find the couch moved three inches to the left, the coffee table completely gone (“I dismantled it; we don’t need it”), and Bucky seriously contemplating whether the kitchen would look better with marble or granite countertops.
“Bucky,” you said slowly, trying to remain calm, “I’m begging you—stop fixing things.”
He blinked at you. “What do you want me to do then?”
You panicked. “Anything. Just—find a hobby!”
He gave a solemn nod, as if you’d just entrusted him with a new mission. “Okay. A hobby. Got it.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. If only you’d known what was coming next.
Phase 2: The Google Scholar Phase
Duration: Two Weeks
With his newfound free time, Bucky discovered the internet. And when Bucky Barnes discovers the internet, chaos ensues.
It started innocently enough. You’d come home to find him glued to his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“What are you doing?” you asked, setting down your bag.
“Research,” he said ominously, fingers flying over the keys.
“Research on… what?”
He glanced up, his eyes wide. “Did you know sharks have been around longer than trees?”
“Uh—”
“And that banana slugs can grow up to 9 inches long?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a whole website dedicated to weird animal facts. I’ve been reading for hours.”
And so, you were subjected to two weeks of nonstop trivia.
“Hey, Y/N!” he’d shout from the kitchen. “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”
Or: “Did you know cows have best friends?”
And: “Do you want to hear about the deepest point in the ocean?”
“Not really—”
“It’s called the Mariana Trench, and it’s seven miles down!”
You tried banning Wikipedia, but he just switched to obscure forums. You blocked YouTube, and he found a random chicken fact blog. The worst part? He’d share his newfound knowledge with anyone who’d listen.
“I’m calling Sam,” you muttered one evening after hearing Bucky recite the entire history of the humble potato to the mailman. “You need social intervention.”
Phase 3: The Home Décor Perfectionist Phase
Duration: Two Exasperating Weeks
Denied access to his newfound internet pursuits, Bucky turned to interior design. You were caught off guard one Saturday morning when he asked, “What do you think of paisley?”
“What’s a paisley?”
“Pattern. I’m thinking of reupholstering the couch.”
“Bucky, no—”
Too late. Within days, every room was a different colour. You came home to find polka-dotted curtains in the bathroom, and he’d somehow managed to install a chandelier in the laundry room.
“Bucky, why is there a 10-foot mirror in the hallway?”
“It makes the space feel bigger.”
“Bucky, this is a two-bedroom house!”
He paused, squinting at the living room wall. “I think the polka dots need to go.”
You nearly wept with relief when he announced he was moving on to the garden.
Phase 4: The Amateur Detective Phase
Duration: One Overly Suspicious Month
After redecorating the entire house, Bucky set his sights on the neighborhood.
“Y/N, did you see that guy across the street?” he whispered one morning, peering through the blinds with a pair of binoculars.
“That’s Mr. Henderson. He’s eighty-five.”
“Yeah, and he’s up to something. No one goes to the mailbox that often.”
“Maybe he likes getting his mail?”
“I’m telling you, something’s not right.” He tapped the binoculars. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”
And so began Operation: Neighborhood Watch. Every delivery truck was scrutinised. Every dog walker received a full background check. The poor Girl Scouts who came to sell cookies left looking slightly shell-shocked.
The Girl Scout Incident: When Bucky Barnes Met Thin Mints
The Girl Scout incident started out innocent enough—just a kid selling cookies to the neighborhood. But when Bucky Barnes answered the door, things took a turn.
It was a sunny Saturday morning. You were in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you heard the doorbell ring. Before you could even get up to check, Bucky’s voice echoed from the living room.
“I got it!” he called out, already making his way to the front door.
Curious, you peeked around the corner just in time to see him open it. Standing on the porch was a sweet-looking little girl, no more than nine or ten, decked out in her green uniform, clutching a clipboard and flashing a bright, eager smile.
“Hi, mister!” she chirped, clearly undeterred by the stern look on Bucky’s face. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies today?”
You watched as Bucky’s expression softened just a bit, his head tilting to the side in confusion.
“Cookies?” he repeated, as if she’d just offered him nuclear launch codes.
“Yep!” She held up a laminated chart with pictures of the various cookies, pointing to each one with a tiny, rainbow-colored pen. “We have Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas—uh, I mean, Caramel deLites—”
He squinted at the chart, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “Why would you need to sell cookies?”
You nearly face-palmed. Oh no.
The girl’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “It’s a fundraiser! To support our troop activities and trips.”
“Fundraiser?” Bucky’s voice dropped suspiciously. “Who’s your troop leader?”
The girl blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh, Mrs. Patterson?”
“Uh-huh. And how many boxes of these so-called ‘cookies’ are you supposed to sell?”
Her smile wavered just a fraction. “Um, as many as possible?”
Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “And where does all this money go?”
“Bucky—” you tried to interrupt, stepping forward, but he held up a hand without looking back, eyes still locked on the bewildered Girl Scout.
“It goes to our troop!” she answered nervously, glancing down at her clipboard as if for reassurance. “For badges and supplies and—”
“Supplies,” Bucky echoed, his tone suddenly sharp. “What kind of supplies?”
“Uh… arts and crafts…?” she stammered, clearly starting to get uncomfortable.
“Arts and crafts?” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Or something else?”
You saw the poor girl’s eyes widen, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if she was contemplating using it as a shield.
“Bucky, stop,” you hissed, stepping forward to intervene. But he was on a roll now.
“Who gets the money, huh?” He narrowed his eyes, peering down at her like she was an enemy combatant. “Do you get it?
“Or does it go to some mysterious ‘troop leader’ who’s hiding behind a desk somewhere, raking in profits from innocent cookie sales?”
“M-Mister, it’s just cookies,” she squeaked, glancing nervously at the boxes stacked beside her. “We just wanna go camping this summer.”
“Camping?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. “And what kind of ‘camping’ are we talking about here? Deep-woods recon training? SERE training?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.
“Bucky, she’s nine!” you practically shouted, rushing over to save the poor child from what was rapidly escalating into a full-blown interrogation.
“But Y/N, this could be—”
“It’s not a conspiracy, Bucky!” you snapped, turning to the girl and giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sweetie, how much for a box of Thin Mints?”
“Uh… f-five dollars?” she stammered, still eyeing Bucky like he might suddenly sprout fangs.
You reached for your wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, ma’am!” she squeaked, stuffing the money into her pouch with trembling hands.
You shot Bucky a glare. “Apologize.”
He crossed his arms, looking mulish. “But—”
“Bucky.”
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Uh… sorry… for, um… asking about your troop leader and, uh… the money laundering?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly not following.
“Bucky!” you hissed, elbowing him sharply.
“I mean, sorry for… for… being weird,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
The girl gave a hesitant nod, glancing back at her stack of cookies. “Um… would you like another box, mister?”
Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. Which one’s the best?”
“Bucky—” you started, but he was already leaning down, listening intently as the girl launched into a detailed explanation of the flavour profiles of Samoas versus Tagalongs.
Twenty minutes later, Bucky was the proud owner of a dozen boxes of Girl Scout cookies, which the girl somehow managed to upsell him into buying. The look of relief on her face as she walked away was palpable.
You turned to Bucky, hands on your hips. “Really, Buck?”
“What?” he said defensively, clutching his armful of cookies. “I needed to make sure it was legit!”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why we now have enough cookies to feed an army?”
He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I guess I got carried away.”
“Just… try not to scare any more children, okay?”
“Hey, I was just being thorough,” he muttered, glancing down at the boxes. “Besides… these ‘Samoas’ are actually pretty good.”
You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Because only Bucky Barnes could turn a simple cookie sale into a full-scale interrogation—and then end up buying out the entire stock.
“Whatever you say, Bucky. Whatever you say.”
He gave you a sheepish grin, holding up a box of Thin Mints. “Want one?”
“Sure,” you sighed, reaching out to grab a cookie. Because, at the end of the day, this was Bucky Barnes: ex-assassin, super-soldier, and now… terrifyingly dedicated Girl Scout cookie connoisseur.
The Girl Scout incident, unfortunately, didn’t mark the end of Bucky’s neighbourhood watch endeavours.
“Hey, Y/N, that’s the third day in a row Mrs. Higginson has gone jogging past our house,” Bucky muttered a few days later, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
You glanced over from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” you replied absently, already wondering if now would be a good time to text Steve for a little ‘rescue mission.’ “Maybe she likes jogging?”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not natural. It’s a cover for something. Probably espionage.”
“Bucky, she’s seventy.”
“Exactly. No one that age moves like that. She’s gotta be a retired agent.”
“Or she’s trying to stay in shape?”
“Or she’s spying on us.” He narrowed his eyes, peering through the blinds. “Maybe she’s HYDRA.”
“Bucky, she brought us homemade banana bread last week.”
“Which tasted suspiciously good,” he muttered darkly, tapping his pen against his chin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”
It didn’t stop there. He began obsessively tracking patterns—when neighbors took out their trash, when they left for work, who picked up their mail first thing in the morning. His conspiracy board rivaled the one you’d seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, complete with photos, string, and a suspiciously large map of the neighborhood.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”
You blinked, looking up from your book. “What’s up, Buck?”
He leaned in, his voice low and serious. “Did you know Mrs. Patterson’s dog peed on our lawn three times this week?”
“I—what?”
“And Mr. Thompson left his house twice yesterday. Twice.”
“…is that a crime?”
“Yes. Who leaves the house twice in one day? He’s clearly up to something.”
“Like… groceries?”
Bucky frowned. “No. Something bigger. I saw him walking to his car, get this—without any bags.”
“Maybe he forgot something?”
He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “It’s a diversion tactic. I’m keeping a close watch on him.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking the neighbours.”
“Of course not!” He paused. “I’m… observing. For science.”
“For science?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Buck. I’m putting my foot down,” you finally managed. “You need to stop this. The neighbours think we’re crazy. You’re scaring the kids and… the mailman won’t come to the door anymore.”
Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because you interrogated him about his route last week!”
“He was being shady!”
“He’s a mailman!”
There was a long pause as you stared each other down, Bucky looking defiant and you looking exhausted. Finally, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.
“Buck… I know retirement is hard. But you need a new outlet. Maybe something a little less—”
“Paranoid?” he offered, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. And a little less terrifying for the neighbours.”
He sighed deeply, like you’d just asked him to hang up his shield all over again. “I was just… trying to be useful.”
Your heart softened immediately. Because that was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The man who’d spent his life fighting wars and doing battle against his own mind was now left trying to figure out how to fit into a world that no longer needed him to save it.
You walked over, placing your hands on his shoulders and giving him a soft smile. “You’re always useful, Buck. Even if you’re not interrogating the mailman about federal postal regulations or… spying on seventy-year-old retirees.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, huh?”
“A little,” you agreed with a grin. “Maybe you should find something else to watch over.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.
You bit your lip, thinking. “I don’t know… Maybe get a pet? You could… I don’t know, babysit a cat or something.”
Bucky blinked at you. Then his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the Holy Grail of retirement activities.
“A cat,” he murmured slowly, as if testing the word. “A cat.”
“Yes, a cat,” you repeated cautiously, wondering if you’d just unleashed some new kind of havoc on the house. “You could train it to… I don’t know, not scratch the furniture or something.”
“Or… I could train it to keep an eye on the pigeons,” he muttered to himself, looking thoughtful.
“Wait, what?”
But Bucky had already gone inside, the gears in his mind clearly turning. You shook your head, deciding to let him have this one. After all, how much trouble could he really get into with a cat?
Phase 5: The Pet Phase (aka Operation: Find a Feline Friend)
Duration: Ongoing, with Fur Everywhere
You didn’t think he’d take it seriously. Until you came home the next day to find Bucky sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a small, white ball of fluff curled up in his lap.
“This is Alpine,” he announced proudly.
You stared at the kitten, then at Bucky, then back at the kitten. “Bucky, what… why…?”
“You said get a pet,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I did.”
And that’s how Alpine, the grumpy old woman in a cat’s body, became part of your household. Bucky spent weeks trying to train him (“Sit, Alpine! Sit! … Okay, fine, just glare at me, that works too.”), set up elaborate obstacle courses (“Alpine, jump! No, don’t walk away—okay, you know what, just do your thing”), and spoiled her rotten with toys and treats.
With each phase, Bucky’s retirement became a new adventure. And while it drove you absolutely crazy at times, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Bucky lying on the couch, Alpine curled up on his chest, both looking completely content.
“Retirement isn’t so bad, huh?” you teased one evening, curling up beside him.
He hummed thoughtfully, scratching behind Alpine’s ears. “I don’t know… I think I could use a new project.”
You groaned, but your groan turned into a laugh when he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh no,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “No more projects, Barnes. You’ve nearly redecorated us out of house and home, scared the mailman half to death, and—”
“Don’t forget the gourmet cookies,” he interjected with a cheeky smile.
You shot him a playful glare. “I’m trying to forget the cookies, thank you.”
“Aw, come on. I think I finally got the recipe down. I’ll just try one more—”
“No!” you practically shouted, your voice echoing through the living room. Alpine, unbothered, merely lifted her head, gave you both a disinterested look, and went back to napping.
Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No more cookies. No more redecorating. No more… scaring the Girl Scouts.”
“Or spying on the neighbors.”
“Or spying on the neighbors,” he agreed, still looking a little too amused for your liking.
You sighed, leaning back into the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, most people take up hobbies like gardening or painting in retirement.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but those aren’t as exciting.”
“They’re not supposed to be exciting. They’re supposed to be calm. That’s the whole point of retirement, Buck.”
He glanced down at you, his gaze softening. “You really think I’m the ‘calm’ type, doll?”
You snorted. “No, not really. But it would be nice if, just once, I didn’t come home to find you plotting to build a moat around the house.”
“Moats are an excellent defense mechanism,” he said matter-of-factly. “But okay, I get it. I’ll tone it down.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “You promise?”
“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up his right hand. The glint in his eye, however, told you he was already planning something new.
“Bucky…”
“What?” he asked, all innocence. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not for a second.”
He chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Alright, no more projects. I’ll just focus on Alpine. She’s a full-time job anyway.”
You glanced at the cat, who was now sprawled out like she owned the place. “You’ve turned her into a diva, you know.”
“He’s just refined,” Bucky said defensively. “He’s got standards.”
“Uh-huh. Like the way he refuses to eat unless you hand-feed her?”
“Refined,” Bucky insisted.
“And how she sleeps on your side of the bed and shoves you off with her tiny, evil paws?”
“Selective.”
“And how she sits on the counter staring at you like she’s plotting your demise?”
“Observant.”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’ve created a monster, Bucky.”
“Eh,” he said with a shrug, smirking down at you. “I’ve handled worse monsters. She’s a good one. Besides,” he added, scratching Alpine’s head fondly, “she’s family.”
Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Yeah, I guess she is.”
There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, content in the peaceful moment.
Then Bucky cleared his throat, and you glanced up to see him shifting slightly, like he was working up the nerve to say something.
“So… I was thinking…” he began slowly.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, hear me out,” he said quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off your incoming refusal. “What if we… I dunno… made a baby?”
You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”
“A baby,” he repeated, his voice steady, though there was a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “You know, a little human—our human. Someone we can train to take over the world… or at least keep me entertained.”
Your jaw dropped open. “You want to have a baby—because you’re bored?”
Bucky gave you a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was thinking it could be a good project… long-term investment… future troublemaker…”
“Bucky,” you interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders and staring at him, bewildered. “Are you seriously suggesting having a child like it’s another DIY project?”
He shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were soft and serious. “Maybe. But I was also thinking it’d be nice to have something, or someone, that’s just… ours. A mix of you and me. Something that isn’t tied to the past, or fighting, or… all the other stuff.”
You stared at him, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “You really want a baby, Bucky?”
He nodded slowly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong, Alpine’s great and all, but…” He sighed, his smile turning tender. “I just think it’d be amazing to have something more. I’ve spent so much of my life taking orders or fighting ghosts. But starting a family with you? That’s something I get to build. Something that’s ours.”
You bit your lip, heart swelling at his words. Despite the completely unromantic way he’d suggested it, there was sincerity in his gaze, a yearning for something deeper than fixing leaky faucets or buying out the Girl Scouts’ entire cookie stock.
“And you think you’d be a good dad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Please,” he scoffed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d be the best damn dad. I’d teach our kid how to throw a proper punch by age five, dismantle a toaster by six—”
You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you want to raise a tiny super-soldier?”
His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”
“Bucky, we are not turning our child into a mini-Winter Soldier.”
He pouted dramatically. “Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” you affirmed with a chuckle. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “But… maybe we could talk about it. You know, actually talk. Not just… plan a tactical baby mission.”
Bucky’s eyes softened as he brushed his thumb along your cheek. “Yeah. We can talk about it.” He paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “After we practice a little more.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh my God, Bucky.”
“What?” he asked innocently, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, right?”
You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love me for it,” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Yeah,” you whispered when he pulled away, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I do.”
You glanced down at Alpine, who was still sprawled across Bucky’s lap, looking utterly uninterested in the conversation. A baby. You hadn’t really thought about it seriously before, but now that Bucky had put the idea in your head… you couldn’t help but wonder.
There was a brief pause as Bucky gazed at you, his expression growing thoughtful. “You know,” he began quietly, “after that whole Girl Scout cookie fiasco… I kinda started thinking… I’d really like to have a daughter.”
You blinked at him, surprised. “A daughter?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softening. “That kid was just so… brave, you know? Standing there, staring me down even though I was being a total idiot. It reminded me of you—fierce and unafraid. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if we had a daughter like that? Strong, smart, and completely capable of putting me in my place when I get out of line.”
You felt your heart clench at his words, his quiet admission making your chest ache. “You want a little girl because she’d keep you in check?”
“That,” he said, smiling softly, “and I think I’d like the challenge. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with people who only saw me as a weapon. I just… want to prove that I can be something else. That I can be gentle… and kind… and love someone unconditionally. The way I love you.”
You reached up, cupping his face gently. “Bucky, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“I know,” he murmured, his gaze warm and intense. “But I still want to try. And I want to be the kind of dad who isn’t just a protector, but a friend. Someone who’d sit through endless tea parties and help her build pillow forts… and buy all the Girl Scout cookies she wants without scaring anyone.”
You laughed softly, tears stinging your eyes at the picture he painted. “You’d be a great dad, Bucky.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.
“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling up at him.
There was another beat of silence before Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “So… when do we start?”
You felt your cheeks heat, a mix of laughter and surprise bubbling up in your chest. “Bucky!”
“What?” he asked, his smile as innocent as ever. “I’m just asking. I mean, you know I’m a man of action. Gotta have a timeline.”
“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands as Bucky laughed softly, his arms wrapping around you.
“Okay, okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “No rush. We’ll take it one day at a time, sweetheart. But just know… I’m ready whenever you are.”
And somehow, you knew this next phase—whatever it looked like—was going to be the best one yet.
× × × ×
Ten months later
The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the pale blue walls. The room was still, save for the quiet creak of the rocking chair as Bucky swayed back and forth, holding the tiniest bundle of joy in his strong, yet tender arms.
His daughter, barely a week old, was nestled against his chest, her small, delicate breaths in sync with the steady rhythm of his own. Her tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, as if she knew just how safe and loved she was in her daddy's arms.
Bucky hummed quietly, the familiar melody of an old lullaby drifting into the air. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was no older than his sweet little girl was now. The words came softly, almost whispered, as if they were sacred—meant only for his daughter.
“Darling, you're my bloodYou have my heartbeatYou have my heartbeat, beating loud,”
His voice was gruff, yet softened by emotion as he sang, the gentle rocking lulling his daughter further into her peaceful slumber. His fingers brushed through her soft, downy hair as he looked down at her with nothing short of awe. How had he, of all people, gotten so lucky?
He had been through so much darkness in his life—seen and done things he would never be able to forget—but here, in this quiet moment, everything seemed to fade away. The world outside could wait. Right now, his whole universe was cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky Barnes felt at peace.
Unbeknownst to him, you stood at the door, your heart swelling at the sight before you. You had come to check on them both, worried that Bucky might need help with the baby. But when you saw him there, rocking your little girl and singing so sweetly, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the love of your life in this vulnerable, beautiful moment.
Bucky was a natural, even if he didn’t believe it. You had seen the worry in his eyes when you first brought your daughter home—the fear that he wouldn’t be good enough, that he wouldn’t know what to do. But here he was, proving himself wrong in the most heart-melting way possible.
The lullaby continued, each note filled with so much love it made your eyes mist over.
"You are my lighthouseA peak of light from the dark cloudsI've lived under my whole life. . .And there's nothing I won't do for you."
Bucky’s voice cracked just a little on the last line, overcome with emotion as he gazed down at his daughter and carefully wiped his tears away.
She had his eyes—bright and full of wonder, even when they were closed in slumber. He couldn’t help but trace the delicate features of her face with his gaze, committing every tiny detail to memory.
Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw you standing there. His expression softened when he realised you had been watching him.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice low so as not to wake the baby.
“Long enough,” you replied, your smile widening as you walked over to him.
Bucky blushed, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not exactly a professional.”
“I beg to differ, I think you’re the best dad in the world.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple.
Bucky’s heart swelled at your words. He never imagined he would be here—sitting in a nursery, holding his newborn daughter while the love of his life stood beside him, calling him the best dad in the world. It still felt like a dream.
“She’s so small,” he murmured, looking back down at the baby. “So fragile. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I could love someone I barely knew this much.”
Your hand gently rested on his shoulder as you gazed down at your daughter. “You’ve got a big heart, James. I always knew you’d be amazing as a father.”
He glanced up at you, eyes soft and full of affection. “You’re the amazing one.”
You reached out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek, and Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.
“I never thought I’d have this,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family. A reason to feel…whole again.”
You knelt down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve it, Bucky. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Bucky kissed the top of youe head, holding you close as he continued to rock your daughter. The world outside could be chaotic and unforgiving, but in this room, in this moment, everything was perfect.
× × × ×
Baby at six months
The house was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You were out running errands, leaving Bucky home with their now six-month-old daughter, who was currently kicking her chubby little legs and babbling on her playmat. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she reached for her favorite stuffed bear, the one Bucky had given her the day she was born.
Bucky sat beside her, legs crossed, watching her every move like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a playful whisper.
“You know, blossom,” he began, glancing over his shoulder dramatically as if checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t around. “Your mom thinks she’s the boss.”
Their daughter let out a high-pitched squeal, and Bucky grinned.
“Right? Can you believe it?” he continued, keeping his voice low as if sharing the biggest secret in the world. “She thinks she’s in charge around here. But between you and me, we know the truth.”
His little girl giggled again, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if she was agreeing with him.
“See, you and I?” Bucky said, tapping his finger gently on her nose, “We’re a team. We know how to get things done. I mean, just look at us—surviving nap time, figuring out how to stack those weird little ring toys, and we don’t even need to look at the instructions. Meanwhile, your mom still thinks I can’t fold laundry properly.”
He paused for dramatic effect, raising his brows. “Can you believe that? Laundry. I fought in World War II, and she’s worried I’ll mess up the towels.”
His daughter let out a delighted shriek, her little legs kicking excitedly. Bucky reached over and tickled her belly gently, making her burst into even more giggles.
“Oh, yeah, I know you think it’s funny,” Bucky chuckled. “But trust me, your mom’s got some pretty high laundry standards. I tried to fold one towel, just one, and she came over with this look like I’d committed a crime. 'Bucky, that’s not how you fold them!' she said. And I’m standing there like, ‘It’s a towel, not a top-secret mission.’”
He leaned in closer, as if telling her something top-secret. “She doesn’t know this, but I might’ve folded them wrong on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”
His daughter cooed, her tiny hand reaching out to grab his finger, which she promptly brought to her mouth to chew on. Bucky let her, his heart melting at the sight. She was his little sidekick, always hanging on his every word, even if she didn’t fully understand yet.
“And don’t even get me started on the bedtime routine,” Bucky continued, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Your mom’s got this whole plan—bath, story, lights out. Meanwhile, you and me? We’ve got a better plan. We chill, we rock, maybe sing a little. You get all cozy, and bam—out like a light.”
“Bababababa,” His daughter babbled something back at him, her little voice full of enthusiasm, and Bucky nodded seriously.
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ve got this figured out.”
He scooped her up from the mat and held her close, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he walked them over to the couch. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, and continued his lighthearted rant.
“And the thing is, she’s always right, which drives me crazy. Like, the other day, she told me you were gonna try to crawl soon. I thought, ‘Nah, she’s too young.’ But then what happens? Two days later, you’re scooting around like you’ve got places to be. I swear, your mom’s a psychic or something.”
Bucky gazed down at his daughter, who was now looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that never failed to melt his heart. She let out a happy gurgle, and Bucky chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“You know I’m just kidding, right? Your mom’s the best. She takes care of both of us.” He sighed, feeling a rush of affection as he thought about Y/N. “Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty lucky to have her. She keeps me in line.”
Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Bucky’s head shot up in mock panic.
“Uh-oh,” he whispered to his daughter, his eyes wide with exaggerated worry. “The boss is back. Don’t say anything.”
You appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as you saw Bucky and the baby cozied up on the couch. “What are you two up to?” you asked, a knowing smile on your lips.
Bucky gave you his most innocent look, bouncing your daughter gently in his arms. “Oh, nothing. Just hanging out with my best girl here. Right, darling?”
The baby let out a little squeal, clearly delighted by the attention.
“Mmhmm,” You said, stepping closer and giving Bucky a playful look. “You haven’t been filling her head with nonsense, have you?”
“Me? Never,” Bucky replied, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking about how great you are. Isn’t that right, kiddo?”
Bianca, oblivious to the conversation, giggled and reached for you, and took her from Bucky’s arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, if she grows up thinking she’s in charge, I’ll know who to blame,” You teased, casting a glance at Bucky.
He grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Hey, she’s gotta learn from the best.”
You smiled, shaking your head in mock defeat. “You’re lucky she likes you so much.”
Bucky stood and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your little girl, now happily nestled between you. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he murmured softly, kissing the side of your head.
And in that moment, with his two favorite girls in his arms, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better kind of luck.
#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagines#winter soldier imagines#winter solider x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#the winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier#winter soldier x female reader#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier fic#winter soldier fanfic#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan characters#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan fanfiction#the winter solider x reader#the winter soldier x you#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes x y/n#james barnes
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Don't Move
*Loosely inspired by the new Netflix movie Don’t Move but I haven’t actually watched it and only saw clips and read the synopsis.
I never should have parked so far from the grocery store. I’d stopped to grab a few items for dinner on my way home from work and parked in the last row, wanting to give myself an opportunity to walk a little extra to the store and stretch my legs after sitting at a computer desk all day, especially since today was an uncharacteristically sunny fall day. When I finish shopping and come back out to my car, I vaguely take note of another car parked next to me.
Weird, considering half the lot was empty but who am I to judge, I’m not the parking police. I roll my cart to my car, unload my shopping bags, and return the cart before rounding my car to get in and leave. That’s when I realize that the car next to me parked absurdly close to mine.
I silently judge the distance and decide that maybe I can squeeze myself into my driver side door without dinging his door or mine so I step in the space between the two vehicles. As soon as I pull open my door, I can tell that my plan won’t work. I huff out a little laugh and decide to just crawl in through the passenger side when I hear the car door slam from behind.
“Sorry!” An embarrassed sounding male voice sounds. “I totally misjudged the distance and parked a little too close.”
I turn to see a tall man stride around what I assume is his car that he was sitting in, coming towards me. I smile back at him, “No worries, it happens to the best of us. I can just crawl in through the other side.”
His eyes crinkle in a kind smile and he raises one hand to run through his hair bashfully. I realize that he’s really attractive, the kind of boy-next-door attractive that makes you feel at ease. He’s closed the distance between us and stands near the back bumper of both our cars, his frame filling the space and effectively trapping me in.
“No, don’t, I can move my car, just give me a sec,” he says, giving a wry chuckle. I glance down at his other hand and see him holding an umbrella. I raise an eyebrow, gesturing towards it with my chin, “Expecting rain?”
He looks down as if he’s surprised to see the umbrella in his hand, “Oh! This! Well, you can never be too prepared, right?” He shrugs lightly and takes another step into my space.
“Plus, it’s really useful for times like this,” he says before clicking a button on the handle that makes the tip light up with electricity. His umbrella is a stun gun in disguise. Before I can react, he jabs it into my side and I let out a strangled yelp as sharp pain floods my body and I crumple.
He catches me and the last thing I see before my vision goes black is his handsome face twisted in a dark, menacing smile.
—
The rhythmic jostling of a car wakes me up and I found myself laid out across the backseat of a car with my arms tied behind my back and my legs tied together at my ankles. I let out a soft whine, my body aching as I slowly clear my head.
My eyes dart around the car and I see him driving. He tilts the rearview mirror down so we can see each other and he flashes me a charming smile.
“Good morning. Sleep well?” His voice is teasing, as if we were lovers, waking up in bed together and not a deranged kidnapper and his prey.
“What the fuck? Let me go!” I thrash against my restraints but he’s also strapped me into the seatbelts and made it impossible for me to get free.
He smiles, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”
I feel the car turn and from my limited view out the windows, I see him turn us from a main road onto a smaller path that seems to lead into the forest. Fear starts to overtake my every emotion.
“Where are you taking me? Are you going to kill me?” I say, my voice cracking.
He laughs in response but doesn’t deign to give me a verbal response. Before I can muster up the courage to ask more, the car comes to a stop and he steps out before opening the door by my feet.
With a strong grip, he hauls me out of the car and I stumble out, legs unsteady and uncoordinated from being bound together. “Please, please, let me go!” I beg him, my heart in my throat.
He grins at me, “Let’s play a game. I’ll give you an opportunity to run, and if you out-run me, I’ll let you go.” I gasp, staring at him, waiting for the catch. He reaches behind me and with a swift motion, unties my arms. He leans down and does the same for my ankles and I stare at him in shock.
“You better run, little bird.” His voice is teasing as he takes a step back from me. I don’t hesitate. I spin and take off.
My breath is harsh and my heartbeat wild as I sprint through the woods, ignoring the branches that scratch at my face and arms. I hear his laugh following me and then his voice shouting after me, “Run, little bird, run as fast as you want but you won’t get far!”
I don’t stop to think, just mindlessly crashing through the woods as fast as I can, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I’m not sure how far I’m able to get when suddenly, my leg seems to give out from underneath me and I take a tumble.
I gasp, trying my best not to scream as I trip and find myself landing hard on the ground. Pain shoots through my body and I grit my teeth, not wanting to make any more noise in case he can hear me. Adrenaline is still pumping through me as I scramble to push myself back up from the floor. I manage to stand and take a step before my knees buckle again and I drop to my hands and knees.
What the fuck is going on? Why isn’t my body cooperating? I’m frantic, horror filling my blood as I realize something is very wrong. My legs won’t move and I don’t know why. I try to crawl forward but suddenly, my arms give out and I end up sprawled across my front, branches digging into my body painfully.
I can’t escape like this. My brain is begging my body to just move and keep running but nothing is happening. I use an excruciating amount of effort to roll myself from my front to my back so at least I can have a better vantage point but that’s all that I’m able to accomplish before my body completes shuts down. I’m left splayed out on my back, limbs frozen, mind screaming in panic when I hear footsteps approaching.
And then, I hear his voice. “Little bird, did the drugs kick in?”
My heart drops at his words. He drugged me. That was why I couldn’t move. Tears filled my eyes and I blinked rapidly, the only movement I could still produce.
I see him walk into my view through my tears and I hear him chuckle. “Looks like my little bird can’t fly anymore.” He walks up next to me and looks down at me and waves a syringe mockingly.
“A paralytic. Fast-acting and long-lasting. You’re going to be like this for at least several hours,” he says, a maniacal gleam lighting up his eyes. I try to speak and realize that I can’t even do that.
He crouches down next to me and brushes my hair off my face, then trailing a hand down my cheek, collecting a tear. “We are going to have so much fun together, little bird.”
He hefts me up into his arms and carries me through the forest, retracing the path I’d ran down. I realize with a sinking heart that I did not make it far at all and in a few hundred yards, we end up back at the car. My mind is still screaming at my body to move but nothing obeys.
He carries me into a cabin, the intended destination of our car ride, and I stare listlessly at the space around us. We end up in a bedroom with a large bed and I feel another wave of fear pass over me. He’s going to rape me.
He lays me down gently on the bed like I’m some kind of precious cargo. Then he disappears from view and I hear the sound of running water from what I assume is the connected bathroom. He comes back holding a first aid kit and a wet towel. He starts with the scratches on my face, wiping them down before putting some kind of cream over them, his fingers gentle.
He makes a tsk sound at me, “Look at you, little bird. Covered in scratches, I’m going to need to take good care of you, hm?” He smiles down at me and my stomach curdles. My eyes are wide as I stare back at him, silent.
Then he pulls out a pair of scissors and I want to flinch but I can’t. He starts to cut my shirt off my body and I feel dizzy with terror as my clothes start to fall away in strips. I beg my body to move but just like before, there’s nothing in response.
He moves down to my pants, opting to unbutton them and gently pull them off my legs, taking care to maneuver my body around. Tears are streaming down my face, wetting my temples and my hair as I stare up at the ceiling blankly.
I’m naked now, stripped bare, splayed out on the bed. “Fuck, little bird, you’re beautiful,” he says, his voice low. He runs a hand down my cheek, ghosting over my throat and down between the valley of my breasts, over my stomach, and he comes to rest in between my legs. I close my eyes, trying to escape from this horror.
He nudges my legs further apart, revealing my pussy to his hungry gaze and I feel his finger dance across me. The movement is gentle, teasing, and if I could move, it would have made me tense and jerk away. But instead, I lay still, my body unable to do anything except let him take what he wants.
He trails a gentle finger against my clit and the touch makes electricity dance down my spine. He pulls his hand away for a second and I feel his finger press against my mouth. My eyes fly open to meet his. He smiles at me before gently pushing his finger into my mouth. My lips part with no resistance and when he pulls his hand away, a string of saliva follows.
His spit-wet finger goes back to between my legs and he rubs my clit again. My eyes clench shut as an unwanted wave of pleasure washes over me and if I could moan right now, I know that I would be biting it back. His wet finger moves up and down over me and he knows exactly how hard to rub and where to touch. I feel my breath stutter in my chest and I want nothing more than to push him away, to make him stop.
“Little bird, I can feel you getting wet,” he purrs at me and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. “I’m going to take such good care of this pretty pussy,” he says as he gently slides a finger inside of me. I’m so wet now that there’s no resistance at all, and my relaxed body only helps him breech me.
He adds a second finger and suddenly, I feel the hot touch of a mouth on my clit. It’s unbearable, the forced pleasure permeating every single sense and nerve, the paralytic erasing every possible outlet I could have to soothe the sharp, overwhelming blanket of unwanted bliss. I can’t clench my legs, can’t roll my hips, arch my back, or even make a single sound. It’s torture.
His mouth and fingers work at me relentlessly and I can feel an orgasm building up. Except my body can’t respond to it, my pussy can’t tense and contract, there’s nothing to soften the rush of pleasure that slams into me. Tears are streaming down my face as my orgasm takes my breath away, the unimaginable pleasure shooting through me with no physical outlet. It makes my entire being go hazy, my breathing quickening as much as it could with my body in this state.
He doesn’t stop when I cum. His fingers continue to slide into me, curling upwards to hit my g-spot with painstaking accuracy. He lifts his mouth from my clit and flashes me a devious smile, “I told you I’d take good care of you. And fuck, you taste so fucking good, little bird. I could do this all day.”
His lips seal around my clit again, sucking, flicking, licking. I’m trapped in my body, trapped in this unbearable pleasure, as he wrings another orgasm out of my helpless body. Finally, he pulls back, sliding his fingers out of my dripping pussy. He sits back on his heels and looks down at me, triumph and satisfaction making him look like a king surveying his conquest.
He slides off the bed but stays in my field of vision as he begins to strip, every article of clothing removed revealing his attractive form. When his pants and underwear come off, I see his long, hard cock jut out, tip already dripping with pre-cum. I want to beg him to stop, tell him that I can’t take anymore but I can’t. I can only watch as he stalks toward me, crawling onto the bed and settling between my legs again.
He’s on his knees, towering over me as he strokes his cock languidly. “I’m going to make you fall apart on my cock, and make you take every single inch in that tight fucking cunt of yours. You are going to be mine, little bird.”
He moves my legs from where they’ve been spread wide, moving them to press both against my chest, leaving my pussy exposed and open for him. I feel the head of his cock push against my pussy and I close my eyes, trying to will myself away from this.
He laughs, “You can’t hide from me, you know that.” His body moves as he slides his cock into me. He’s gentle, slowly feeding an inch at a time, giving my lax body time to adjust to his massive size. I want to thrash and writhe, the feeling of his cock filling me so completely takes my breath away and it feels so fucking good I want to crawl out of my skin.
He lets out a low groan, cursing under his breath as he finally sinks all the way into me. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, your cunt was made for me.”
Then, he fucks me. His hips slam into me without remorse, every thrust making my body jolt, his grip on my legs and hips the only things keeping me in place. My eyes roll back into my head as the pleasure overwhelms me.
Every thrust slams into my cervix, the pain-tinged pleasure makes me want to scream, to do anything to relieve this mind-melting, all-encompassing feeling. His movements are relentless, each one punctuated by the sound of his pleasure-filled groans. The sound of my pussy’s wetness fills the room, along with our skin slapping together, creating a cacophony of lewd noise.
“Fuck, little bird, I’m going to cum in your tight cunt. I’m going to mark you as mine from the inside,” he growls, his grip on me tight as his hips speed up. Waves of pleasure crash through me and I want to claw myself out of my physical form. I can’t cope with the pleasure shooting through every nerve with nowhere to go.
His hips stutter against mine and I hear his voice rasp out a drawn-out moan as he cums inside of me. He lets my legs down gently, taking care not to strain me as he leans over me. “Fuck, next time I do this, I want you writhing underneath me in pleasure,” he says, voice breathless. I can only stare back at him in response.
He pulls away from me, the feeling of his cock leaving my pussy sending tingles down my spine. He looks at me, his cum dripping out of my cunt and he smiles. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.” His words push a stab of anguish into me. What more can he do to me? I can’t handle any more.
He climbs off the bed and steps out of my line of sight. When he comes back, he’s holding a horribly mean-looking vibrator. My eyes widen and I blink frantically, my mind screaming at him to please stop. He can’t hear me but he wouldn’t listen to me even if I could verbalize my pleading.
He smiles and spreads my legs apart again, leaving me exposed and I hear the wretched sound of the vibrator fill the room. There’s no gentle touch, no softness that comes to soothe me, just the horrible, nerve-shattering press of the vibrator against my clit.
My mind breaks. The pleasure explodes out of me but every single muscle of my body stays relaxed, amplifying the unimaginable feeling. There’s nothing to dampen it, no clenching of my legs to make it any better, no cries, moans, whimpers, and screams leaving my throat to distract me. Just the vibrator destroying me.
My orgasm rips through me and he doesn’t relent. Moments later, another orgasm makes my every nerve combust and he only grounds the vibrator harder against me. The next one makes my vision go white and my brain shuts down any higher function and leaves me a shell only capable of experiencing the torturous pleasure. The last orgasm rips through me and tears through my consciousness and my world fades to black.
—
I wake up to a darkened room, clearly a few hours since I passed out, judging by the dusky sunset peeking in through the windows. I’m raw, destroyed, shattered. I desperately will my body to move and I feel my heart jump when my fingers twitch against the bed. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the lack of his presence, and for the first time, I feel hope beat in my chest.
And then, I hear footsteps and see him walk into view. My heart sinks. He’s holding another syringe and he smiles at me. “I see you’re awake, I hope you had a good nap.”
I desperately try to force my body to move but all I get is another pathetic twitch of my fingers. His gaze zeros onto it and he smirks. “Looks like you need a second dose, little bird.”
I want to scream, to beg, to do anything to put up a fight but there’s nothing that can be done. He comes up to the bed and with gentle fingers, pushes the syringe into my hip and presses the plunger down. Tears drip out of my eyes as I fight against my paralyzed body, my fingers still twitching desperately.
A few moments later, even that movement leaves me. He brushes my hair off my forehead and leans down to press a long kiss against my head. “You’re mine forever now, little bird.”
--
Note: This concept is so hot to me and when I saw a clip of the movie's premise, I knew I had to write this! Hope y'all enjoy! <3
#nsft concept#overstim kink#dark fantasy#cl1t torture#rap3 fantasy#sex and drugs#tw noncon#tw rap3#rap3fetish#overstim nsft#kidnap fantasy
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This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.
Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)
Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash
Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor
Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!
Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!
Word Count: 447
Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)
Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!
Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo
I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!
“…What?” You ask, bewildered.
“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.
He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.
“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.
Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.
“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.
You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.
“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.
“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.
Jayce stammers harder than before.
“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.
After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.
“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.
“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.
You emit a gentle chuckle.
“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.
“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.
After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.
“I already asked him. He said yes.”
#jayce talis#Viktor arcane#arcane#arcane smut#Jayce x reader smut#Jayce Talis x reader smut#Jayce Talis x Viktor#vikjayce#vikjayce smut#Viktor x reader smut#Viktor x reader smut arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x reader smut
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HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK
♛ ONE ° •
ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH
ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)
idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!
the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.
currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.
“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”
you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.
matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.
“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”
he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.
“i love it.”
the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”
see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.
“nope.”
he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.
the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.
i want to see you after the show.
now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.
you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.
a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”
he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.
“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.
you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”
she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”
you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.
a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.
you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.
pinch me this can’t be real.
“hi,” he says lowly.
“hi,” you repeat back.
he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”
you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.
your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.
you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.
he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.
thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.
you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”
“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”
you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.
you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”
he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.
leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”
your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.
his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.
you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”
he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.
your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”
your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.
he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.
leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.
instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.
it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.
he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.
you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”
you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.
whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.
“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”
you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.
“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.
matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.
it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”
he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.
then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.
shit.
you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”
matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.
“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”
the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”
“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”
“are you okay?” she questions.
with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.
“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.
he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.
“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.
“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”
she sighs through the phone. “okay.”
you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.
he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”
spank.
“leaving your friend out there all alone.”
spank.
“so that you can fuck me.”
spank.
“like a slut.”
spank.
you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.
he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”
he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”
you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.
whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.
“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”
baby. you moan at the nickname.
you’re way past the point of ��omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’
you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.
all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.
your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.
“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.
he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.
“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.
your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.
he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”
blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.
“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”
“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.
“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.
tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.
matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.
you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.
he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.
he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.
after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.
matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.
you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.
once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”
“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.
she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”
“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”
she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.
to my favorite fan,
xxx-xxx-xxxx
text me when you get the chance, gorgeous
- matt :)
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @sturniologirly @hbvfb
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#[ ♛ ] ° • meet & greet
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Aftermath - Chapter 3
When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.
warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering.i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4.9k
(Extra special shout out to @nitaekook for beta reading and holding my hand through this fic 😂❤️)
Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Master List
“Where do you want these plates to go, my dear?” Jade asks from across the kitchen.
You glance up at her from your spot on the brand new couch that was just delivered to the new apartment that morning. You’re sitting cross legged unpacking a box of the few things that you had brought over from the old apartment. In the kitchen, your best friend Jade (who is also Arthur’s girlfriend of about a year thanks to your meddling) stands holding up one of the new plates that you bought with her yesterday.
“Wherever there’s room.” You say with a shrug, not really caring where the plates go because everything feels weird.
The apartment is pristine with its gorgeous hardwood flooring that Charles had refinished before you moved in, floor to ceiling windows that face out towards the water, and that new house smell that is totally unfamiliar and a little unnerving. You should be happy, shouldn’t you? Finally being free of the stifling apartment that you had shared with Lando should fill you with so much optimism and a sense of relief, shouldn’t it? But that’s not the case. Not even close. You’re scared and nervous and just the thought of deciding where those plates should go seems like the heaviest question you've ever been asked.
Simply picking out the plates yesterday with Jade had been an ordeal and you had needed to take several moments to yourself while shopping. You liked your old plates that you had bought with Lando the week you moved in with him but at the same time, the thought of taking those to your new apartment was more painful than leaving them behind.
Jade must notice your anxiety because as soon as she finishes putting the plates and bowls in whatever cabinet that suits her fancy, she comes over to sit next to you on the couch. When she wraps her arm around your shoulders you melt into her in a desperate attempt to stop a fresh flood of tears from falling. It seems as if all you’ve done since leaving the old apartment was cry and if you’re not crying, you’re barely fighting off an incoming panic attack and jumping with every ding of your phone.
“What’s going on, my love?” Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to an injured animal that she doesn’t want to spook. It makes you feel pathetic, helpless, and angry for how much Lando has damaged you when he should have been loving you.
You’ve known Jade for years now and she’s always been one of your closest friends. It was Jade that had been the first of your friend group to pull you aside almost a year ago to ask you if you were truly happy with Lando. She had seen the light dim in your eyes as your relationship with him progressed and watching you lose your spark had scared her. When you had told her the morning after your art show last month that you had finally decided to leave Lando, it had been so hard for her to tamp down her excitement that you had finally worked up the courage to leave him.
“I should be happy, right?” You ask, voice cracking a bit with the heavy weight of what closing the door on the apartment for the very last time had done to you that morning. “I mean, I know I’ve been miserable for…” You scoff, “a really long time so shouldn’t I feel something other than heartbreakingly sad?”
Jade tips her head so it rests on your shoulder, a humming sound playing at the back of her throat. “You’ve been with him for a long time, of course you’re going to be heartbroken. Youu’re doing the right thing though, I promise you. He couldn’t even stop playing that stupid video game long enough to support you last month!”
You nod, memory flickering back to the fight in the hallway in front of Max. You hadn’t heard much from him in the weeks since that night aside from a few texts here and there and you had expected that. He probably was mortified at how you had behaved, embarrassed for you that you had allowed yourself to be treated that way in front him.
You wouldn’t have blamed him if he thought you were a weak little girl who deserved the treatment Lando doled out to you. It was the only way you could rationalize his silence. Seeing how far you’d fallen, how much you’d changed, had obviously had an effect on Max and he had decided he’d seen enough. It didn’t surprise you and you didn’t blame him. Jade was one of your only remaining friends and losing yet another person you trusted and valued in your life was just another thing Lando had taken from you.
“I’m just so glad you finally are taking your power back, love. I know it feels all wrong right now but when you go from the chaos that you’ve been living in for so long, I’m sure the calm of this apartment feels wrong. You’ll get used to it. It might take some time but you’ll get used to it.”
Your head swivels around to look your best friend and you search her face for any sign of her lying to you. You desperately want to believe she’s right, that you’re making the right choice. You know you are, deep down in your soul, but you’ve been with Lando for so long and have spent so many nights listening to him rant and rave about how he’s the only one who could ever deal with your dramatics that you wonder if Jade is wrong and Lando is the one who’s been right all along. You don’t voice the doubts though, knowing that those kinds of things are something that you should probably keep to yourself. So instead of voicing all of the fears that are bouncing around in your chest, making it feel heavy and tight with the pressure of doing something that absolutely terrifies you, you just nod and lean further into Jade’s shoulder.
“I know.” You whisper, staring out over the open living room that is littered with small boxes and suitcases.
With the help of your brothers and Jade, you had started moving your things out slowly while Lando had been otherwise distracted. Just a small box of clothes and trinkets here and there, over the last month while Charles had the apartment renovated and cleaned. When it was finally ready last week, you had begun looking for furniture and making final plans.
The timing had worked out perfectly, with the apartment finally being finished perfectly aligning with a weeklong trip Lando had planned to go to Woking to spend time in the sim at the MTC. He rarely bothered you during these working trips, hell he barely bothered you during any of this trips, but his work trips were different, so you knew you’d have a solid week to get everything that mattered to you out of the apartment before he would be any wiser.
“He’s going to be so mad when he comes home and my things are gone.” You murmur, staring down at your phone which hadn’t received so much as a text message from him in almost 48 hours.
You hadn’t bothered telling Lando you were leaving, that you were done with him. You shied away form confrontation on even the best of days so telling the man that you’d spent the last three years building a life together that you were leaving him was terrifying. When you had started moving small boxes out while Lando was still in town, you had half expected him to notice but that had never been a problem. He hadn’t even noticed you leaving on several occasions with boxes of your books or suitcases of clothes.
A larger part of you had another reason for not telling him, though. You knew that if you told him before you were fully moved out he’d try to get you to stay. He’d try to convince you that things would get better, that this time would be different. All the things that he’s said before when you spent the night crying over his neglect. And you knew you’d fall for it. You knew you’d go running back to him if you didn’t get out before he found out. Lando was persistent and an expert manipulator, you knew that and you still fell for it over and over again so this time you were trying to give yourself the chance to put yourself first and not fall back into his trap.
“He’s going to learn his lesson when he comes home and finds that you’re finally moving on.” Jade says, tone firm but still gentle. She knows what it’s like to be in a relationship like you have with Lando and when you had called her that morning last month to tell her you were finally leaving him, she had decided she was going to make sure she’d do everything in her power to keep you from going back to him. Getting you unpacked and settled in your new apartment was a huge step forward, one Jade hadn’t been sure you would end up following through with.
You nod, hoping she’s right but you have a feeling deep in your gut that when Lando gets back into town tomorrow morning he’s not going to see it that way. He’s going to be angry and he’s going to try to get you to come back home to him.
Looking around your new apartment though, you feel something settle in your bones that you haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s a feeling of attachment to this place. Like if you’re careful and thoughtful, this little apartment tucked away in one of the most exclusive buildings in Monaco could be the best opportunity you have for getting your life back on track. You could heal here, you can feel that in the way the sunlight spills through the windows in the living room, in the way your anxiety allows you to breathe when you stand in the kitchen surrounded by things that you bought yourself, and in in the way you feel when you settle yourself on your brand new bed that will have never shared an intimate moment between you and Lando. Those memories have all been left behind and this new apartment seems like the perfect place for a new beginning.
As Jade comforts you on your couch, your brother is across town arriving at the Monaco Sports Club where he has a game of padel scheduled with Max that afternoon. He had offered to cancel on him this morning when you spoke to him on the phone, saying that your first full day in the apartment was more important than any padel game, but you had insisted that he keep his game. You had wanted a bit of space to breathe from your brothers, who you knew meant very well and you were very grateful for but sometimes, the three men got to be a little suffocating. So, against his better judgement, Charles had skipped coming over that afternoon in favor of hanging out with Max.
Max hasn’t stopped thinking about that night last month when he witnessed Lando being needlessly cruel to you. He had every intention of calling Charles that night, had every intention of telling him how the British driver was actually treating you but something had stopped him. He had needed a little more time to process everything that he saw. Max knew that Lando could be an asshole but he never could have guessed that he would have treated you the way he did that night he brought you back to the apartment. It had shaken him and it had taken him a bit to figure out exactly how to approach it with Charles because he knew if Charles really knew how Lando had been treating you, Lando might not make it to the next race alive. Because while everyone knew the relationship was toxic and Lando wasn’t a good boyfriend, no one really realized just how bad it had gotten until Max saw behind the curtain that night of the art show.
When Max had invited Charles to play padel today, he had finally decided to tell him what had gone down that night. It had taken so long because Max kept waffling between ‘this is none of my business’ and ‘she’s everything’ but when he spotted Charles walking through the padel courts towards him, Max was surprised at how happy Charles looked.
“You look happy.” Max observes before giving his friend a hug.
“Oh, it is a very good day, mon ami.” Charles is practically glowing as he smiles over at his long time friend.
Max lifts a brow, it’s been a while since he’s seen Charles look this optimistic and he wonders if it has something to do with you.
As if Charles reads his mind, he continues, “We finally got the apartment finished and as of this morning, she’s fully left that piece of garbage.” A smug smile plays at the corner of the Ferrari driver’s mouth.
The relief that washes over Max is surprising. He hadn’t realized how truly worried he was for your well being until that moment. The guilt that sets in though has his chest aching. How could he have gone so long without saying something to someone about what he had seen that night? Max carefully weighs his decision that he had been so set on just moments before. If you’ve already left Lando and are settling into your apartment, does Charles really need to know what happened that night? It would only cause more drama and Max knew that more drama and anxiety was the last thing you needed.
In a split second decision that he knows could come back to haunt him, Max decides to keep quiet for now.
“That is the best thing I’ve heard all day.” With a genuine grin, Max bounces the padel ball against the floor.
Charles beams back at him and Max can almost see the stress that his friend has been carrying around recently melting away from his features. He had known that your brother was worried about you, had known your entire circle, or what was left of it, was worried but now that this was really happening, Max could practically feel the relief rolling off of Charles in waves.
“You’re telling me.” Charles mutters before walking to the other side of the court to get the game started.
Max hadn’t meant to end up in your old neighborhood, truly he hadn’t. He had been on a run the morning after playing padel for a few hours with Charles when he passed the bakery that was a few blocks from your old apartment. He hadn’t meant to come this far but the pressures of the season were starting to get to him as they usually did around this time of year and he had needed extra time to clear his head. The fact that he couldn’t seem to get you off his mind either plagued him the entire run too. The way you had felt pressed against his side as he walked you home that night last month, the way your cheeks flamed with humiliation as Lando had laid into you in front of him when he walked you to your door, everything about you seemed to be invading his thoughts and it worried him.
It worried him because he couldn’t let you get under his skin like this. He knew it was a dangerous game he was playing, knowing what you’ve been through and allowing himself to wander down that road. He was just happy you were safe now and hopefully you would start to get that spark back that he knew you still had in you. Everything else would have to wait.
So when he passed the bakery you had pointed out as your favorite the night he had walked you home, he couldn’t help but follow his feet inside. The smells of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries washed over his senses as the bell above the wooden door jingled, announcing his arrival. He knew exactly what he was looking for before the woman behind the counter even asked and before he was able to second guess his decision, Max was walking out of the bakery moments later with half a dozen of what he knew were your favorite almond croissants.
A housewarming gift, he told himself. Because what other way should Max welcome his newest neighbor to the building where he had lived for the last two years? He knew these were your favorites and if he had to guess, wandering back into your old neighborhood just for some carbs was probably at the bottom of your ‘to do’ list right now, even if they were heavenly pieces of baked bread and sweet almond filling.
While Max made his way back across town, laden down with a large pink bakery box, you were just getting out of bed and starting your day. Anxiety, a feeling that seemed to be your constant companion lately, sits heavy on your shoulders as you move around the new apartment. The quiet hush that blankets the small space is different than the stifling silence you're used to in your apartment with Lando. It was unnerving to say the least but if you allowed yourself to pause for even just a moment, you could almost feel your soul breathing a sigh of relief.
That wash of contentment is short lived though when a knock at your front door sends your heart rate spiking through the roof. You know that Lando was going to be home today but didn't know what time. It didn’t even cross your mind that there was no way it was him outside your door because he simply didn’t know where you had moved to but just the thought of someone who you weren’t expecting waiting for you and the possibility that it could be your now ex-boyfriend had you spiraling.
Reaching for your phone, you pull up the security system app that Charles had insisted you get installed, despite the fact that this was a very well secured building with its own doorman downstairs 24/7. The person standing outside your door has confusion knitting your brow together.
Pancake ingredients forgotten, you pad towards the door shuffling through various emotions: relief that it isn’t Lando waiting for you on the other side, apprehension about seeing the person that was patiently waiting in the hallway for you, and a bit of relief that you hadn’t lost this person like you thought you might have.
“Max, what a pleasant surprise.” You murmur when you swing the door open.
In front of you, the Dutch driver is dressed for a workout in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, his blond hair covered in a backwards baseball cap. You’re surprised at the shimmer of pleasure that works its way up your spine when he smiles at you but quickly squash the feeling, remembering the pity on his face as Lando had yelled at you that night he walked you home.
“I was on a run this morning and remembered you saying this bakery was your favorite. I thought I’d bring you some almond croissants as a sort of ‘welcome to the building’ present.”
Warmth spreads through your belly at the gesture and you hold the door open to welcome Max into the apartment. “Welcome to the building?” You ask, confused.
Max grins back at you, rubbing at the back of his neck as he follows you to the kitchen. “I live up in the penthouse. I moved in about two years ago.”
Surprise flickers across your face. When you started dating Lando, your friendship with Max had grown distant so it shouldn’t shock you that you didn’t even know where your friend lived. “Oh, I didn’t realize.” You whisper, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach.
Max watches you bustle around the kitchen, decidedly avoiding eye contact with him. For a few moments he just observes you, trying to decide if he should leave or push. Charles had mentioned yesterday that you were nervous about living alone and Max wanted to make sure that you were okay. He knew he should probably leave you alone to continue to settle it, with it being only your second day in the apartment alone, but there was something keeping him rooted to the spot where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“Are the almond ones still your favorite?” He asks, shattering the silence that had settled over the room. He knows you’re easily spooked now and Max desperately wants you to be comfortable about him. Maybe if he distracts you from whatever storm is brewing in your head, you’ll open up a bit.
His patience is rewarded with the first unguarded smile he’s seen from you in a long time. “I can’t believe you remembered.” You laugh, reaching for one of the croissants in the open box.
“You used to put these things away like nobody’s business when we were younger.”
The blush that creeps across your cheeks has Max gripping the edge of the counter. The two of you fall into a comfortable conversation of safe topics, mostly about your new apartment and how Max’s cats are doing. You like this, the way you feel around him but you can almost feel your body bracing for the other shoe to fall. You keep waiting to have something stupid slip out of your mouth, causing Max to berate or make fun of you.
Much to your surprise it never happens though and you spend the next hour talking through memories of when Charles and Max were fighting it out on the karting tracks when you were younger. Max remembered you well from those days, how you would beg to tag along with him and Charles and the older boys.
The sun sits high in the sky when your phone start buzzing loudly on the counter. At first you ignore it, too lost in the conversation you and Max are having, the way he is so attentive to everything you have to say and how he asks you questions like he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. You don’t want the attention he’s giving you to end but when your phone starts buzzing for the fifth time in a row, you get up off the couch to retrieve it. It was probably just Charles checking on you, you hand’t heard from him all day after all.
Your heart sinks and your stomach churns when you see the caller ID though. “Fuck.” The whisper that tumbles off of your lips is broken and harsh, causing Max’s head to snap towards where you’re leaning over the counter, forearms braced on either side of your phone.
“Everything okay?” Max gets up off the couch to join you in the kitchen, concerned over the way you’ve suddenly gone white as a sheet as you stare down at your phone like it’s about to reach up and strangle you right there in the middle of the room.
In the couple of hours that you had spent catching up with Max, you had completely forgot that Lando was due to get home soon. “I guess Lando has discovered I’m gone.” The way your voice shakes has Max’s heart squeezing.
“He doesn’t know you moved out?”
“Well he does now.” You quip, nervous chuckle falling from your lips. The text messages came in first, it looked like. Nearly a dozen of them and as you scroll through the messages, your face heats. Of course this is going to happen with Max here. Why is he always a witness to your humiliation?
Where are you? Why is the closet half empty, where are all your clothes? Baby, why is your treadmill gone? And your Peloton? Where the FUCK are you??? ANSWER ME NOW WHERE ARE YOU??? DID YOU LEAVE ME THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU’RE DOING THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE NOW COWARD
Shortly after the messages stop, the calls start. You stare down at the phone as Max watches as call after call comes through.
“You don’t have to answer him.” Max murmurs, coming to stand right next to you. You have to resist the urge to lean into his warmth, to collapse against the quiet strength that rolls off of him in waves.
“It’s only going to get worse if I don’t.”
“Does he know where you are?”
You shake your head, tears threatening to spill over. Why was this all happening right now? You knew you were safe, that he had no idea where you had moved to but just the thought of being in the same city as him when he was this angry is enough to have the panic threatening to strangle the breath straight out of your lungs.
“Then you’re safe. He wouldn’t ever do anything to put his career in danger, Dovie.”
You have to laugh at the statement because it’s so true. Lando would never do anything to put his career on the line. He’d do whatever it took to keep you in line under his thumb, no matter how mean he had to be to control you but when it came to his career? His first love? He’d never do anything to put his seat in question and you knew that. You had always come second to racing and what Max said was the total truth.
Max watches you shrink into yourself as the calls continue to come in, one after another, and he knows he has to do something. He glances at the time and instantly gets an idea. “I was supposed to go to dinner with Danny in an hour. What if you leave the phone here for the night and come to dinner with me?” He pauses, seeing the panic flicker across your face. “With us. Come to dinner with us.” He corrects quickly. “I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free too? It’s been a while since we’ve all had dinner together.”
Your eyes drop down to the phone, now quiet for the moment, and weigh your options. You know you’re not ready to talk to Lando but the fact that you’re ignoring him makes you feel like a coward. You’re going to have to speak to him sometime but maybe it was okay if you put if off for a few more days. Dinner out with Max, Daniel, and your brother sounds so appealing but you still hesitate.
“Come on, Dovie. You can’t spend the whole night starting at the phone. He’s going to keep calling and it’s not good for you to be alone right now.”
The pain that slices through your heart at the gentle coaxing Max’s tone takes on is almost unbearable. Why is he always the one to see you laid so bare, so vulnerable?
“How did I let this happen, Max?” Your voice breaks, soft and uncertain as you turn into Max’s waiting frame. Without hesitation, Max’s arms circle around you and he pulls you deeper into his chest. Something settles in him then, almost like he’s relieved you’ve allowed him in. The way you shake while he holds you has his chest aching and he’d really like to give the McLaren driver a piece of his fucking mind right about then, but he knows that’s going to have to wait for now. You’re much more important.
“You were in love, schatje and that’s okay. You trusted him and he broke that trust. It’s not a reflection of you, sweet girl, its a reflection of him. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
You sob quietly into his chest, soaking his t-shirt through with your tears as the dam finally breaks. Humiliation threatens to drag you under but you allow Max’s words to resonate through you. They soften the sharp edges of your heartache and regret, knowing that someone like Max, who you respect and have known for nearly your entire life, doesn’t think this entire thing is your fault. You sink into his warmth, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, allowing his steady breath to ground you.
Max just stands there, a quiet pillar of strength that he can feel you desperately need right now. Hr murmurs quiet reassurances to you as you cry against him, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Come on,” Max coos, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Go take a shower and then lets go to dinner. I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free. You haven’t seen Danny in ages, right? It’ll be good to get out.”
Dragging in a deep breath, you hold the air in your lungs until they pinch. “Okay.”
With one last look at your phone, you turn away and walk down the hallway, leaving Max starting at your phone which has finally gone quiet. For several moments, Max just stands at the counter in the kitchen, unable to move. Relief floods his veins when he hears the shower start though and he knows that you’re finally making a small step towards getting out from under Lando’s control.
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Lessons
Length: +7k words
Genre: Smut
IVE Gaeul x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission, and thank you to @msafterhours for beta reading! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, head on over to my ko-fi page!)
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
“Ugh, this is so fucking annoying!” Gaeul groans, slamming her fist against the table, the clattering of silverware echoing throughout the apartment. Wonyoung, used to her sudden bursts of anger, doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I already told that old guy from SBS that I’m not interested, yet he keeps spamming my messages!”
“Why did you give him your number in the first place if you’re not interested?” Wonyoung inquires.
Gaeul’s cheeks turn a bright red, her gaze falling nervously to the side. “...You know why.”
“Because you’re horny?” Wonyoung posits, raising her brow.
The older girl’s face falls into her hands in misery, emitting a deep guttural groan that carries the weight of her dissatisfaction. “This is so unfair, how did you guys find boyfriends and I have to slog through all these gross older men and obnoxious boy group members?” Gaeul glances at her with a pout on her lips. “Am I ugly or something?”
Wonyoung sighs, gently holding her groupmate’s hand from across the table. “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re just… unlucky.” Gaeul faceplants into the table, her muffled whimpers eliciting sympathy from the younger girl. “Look, why don’t you just ask out our manager already? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Gaeul’s face shoots up, tomato red with panic. “W-what are you talking about!? That’s our manager, that’s w-weird!”
Wonyoung scoffs. “And you think touching yourself while moaning his name isn’t weird?”
“H-how did y-”
“These walls are paper thin, just because you play ocean noises in the background doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”
Gaeul sinks into her chair, covering her face in embarrassment. With a sigh, Wonyoung pulls up a website on her phone and slides it across the table. “Here, a bunch of my friends used this website when they were in your position and they all managed to find a boyfriend within a week.”
The older girl scans the phone, immediately grimacing at the shoddy nature of the website. Aside from an embedded video in the middle of the site and a measly drop down menu titled “Lessons”, it’s essentially barebones. All the text is in Comic Sans for some god awful reason, and whatever moron made this sorry excuse for a website decided to use bright orange over pink. It’s like wrapping a terrible gift in even uglier wrapping paper.
“Wonyoung, this is… grim,” she mutters.
Wonyoung shrugs. “The results speak for themselves.” She takes her phone back and walks towards her room at the end of the hallway. “You better watch those videos. You’re already ruining my beauty sleep, I won’t let you ruin beaches for me too,” she calls out, her bedroom door slamming behind her.
Gaeul leans her head against her palm, contemplating her options. She could ignore Wonyoung’s advice and continue to foolishly look around for dick until her standards drop so low that she ends up sleeping with — God forbid — some washed up 2nd gen idol, or she could learn a thing or two from that hideous website and ask out her hot manager, potentially making things awkward between them for the rest of her career.
She barely has to think about it before pulling out her phone, pulling up the website in mere seconds. With a deep breath, she presses play on the first video.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 1: HOW TO GET A MAN
Being the manager of one of the biggest girl groups in the world leaves you with little energy and even less free time. At first, it was fun. When IVE first debuted, they were nervous yet excited about finally achieving the dreams they’ve worked so hard for, and you wanted to help them out anyway you could, becoming a strong pillar that they can rely on.
However, after a couple years of idol experience under their belt combined with their very quick rise to stardom, the job that you once loved turned into a complete nightmare, which only worsened once the girls found partners. Just last week, you had to wrestle a camera away from a Dispatch worker after he took photos of Rei sucking off her boyfriend in the middle of a park—all of this at 3 fucking AM. To add salt to the wound, instead of being commended for preventing a potential PR disaster, you got chewed out by your supervisor for not managing them well enough. Sure, let’s ignore the million other times you’ve warned them about doing stupid things in public that they keep ignoring.
At least not all of them are a handful to deal with since Gaeul doesn’t have a boyfr-
*Ring Ring*
Speak of the devil. You answer your phone.
“Hey Gaeul, what’s up?”
“H-hi, um…” She clears her throat, her nervousness putting you on edge.
“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”
“N-no, it’s nothing like that! It’s just, uh… Are you busy tomorrow?”
You scan your desk, cluttered with a messy pile of paperwork. Even at your most productive, it’ll take you the entire week to get through everything alongside the plethora of meetings you’ll have to attend. “Yeah, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow, why?”
“Oh, um… How about Saturday?”
“Gaeul, what is this about?”
“Just…!” She sighs audibly in frustration. “Yes or no?”
Rolling your eyes, you take a quick glance at your calendar. Aside from a note that says “buy groceries”, it seems like your entire weekend is free. “Yes, I’m free on Saturday. What is this-”
“Great! I’ll text you an address. Be there at 5pm sharp. Bye!”
“Wai-”
Gaeul hangs up before you can utter another word, leaving you to wonder what all of this is about and why she sounded so nervous over the phone. Your mind runs through all the potential scenarios this could be. As far as you know, there aren’t any events Ive are performing at and filming for their YouTube show doesn’t start until next week. Could this be a prank the girls are pulling on you?
Even as you look up the address she sent you, all you're left with is more questions than answers.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 2: HOW TO ACT PROPER ON A DATE
Saturday rolls around after another particularly difficult week of running around protecting IVE’s image. If you’re being honest, you fully expected to pass away from stress alone after Yujin and Liz nearly got caught having a foursome in someone’s pool by Dispatch yet again. At the very least, this photographer didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as the last one.
As you travel to the far side of the city and stroll up to the fancy restaurant Gaeul all but forced you to come to, you silently pray that this isn’t some weird way of her announcing her new relationship to you. You enter the restaurant, almost immediately receiving a glare of disdain from the host as he scans your casual outfit of a T-shirt and jeans, unbefitting of the atmosphere.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a strict dress code and we unfortunately cannot seat you with your current outfit,” he says, flashing a condescending smile.
“Actually, sorry if this is weird, but is a woman named Gaeul here?” you ask, ignoring his poor attitude.
He looks down at his podium, scanning through some papers before his expression suddenly shifts into something more genial. “Ah, of course! Right this way, sir.” He leads you down a side hallway that’s hidden away from the main seating area, and brings you to one of many doors. “Ms. Gaeul is right in this room, sir.”
You open the door, your jaw hitting the floor in awe as you scan the intricate decorations that adorn the room. A golden chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating everything in a warm glow, while beautifully realistic paintings of fruit bowls and flower vases hang on the walls. In the center of the room sits a table, draped with a red silk cloth and topped with lit candles that set a sort of romantic mood. Gaeul sits on one end, sporting a black strapless dress that shows off her milky skin and thin figure.
“Hi!” She says, walking to you with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Hey— o-oh.” You flinch in surprise as she pulls you into a warm embrace, instinctually slotting your arm around her delicate waist. It’s the first hug you’ve shared with one of the members, and your discomfort quickly fades as you sink into her.
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” she says. You sit across from her, your eyes darting around the room, overwhelmed by the ambience. “You like the view?”
“Yeah, this place is pretty cool, but why did you want me to come here?”
“To surprise you of course!”
Just then, a procession of servers files through the door, carrying silver platters full of food. With each dish they place, you salivate more and more, your stomach rumbling intensely. By the time the last dish is set, the entire table is filled with various dishes of different smells, colors, and textures, none of it discernible but all of it delicious. The final cherry on top is the bottle of expensive wine that the server pours into your glass. This is it. This is Heaven.
“Since you work so hard for us, I thought it would be fitting to treat you to a nice meal,” Gaeul explains, smiling at you. “You deserve it.
“W-wow, this is just… thank you so much, Gaeul,” You say, still scanning the food in front of you. “I wish you would’ve told me to wear something nicer though. That guy at the front side-eyed me the second I walked in.”
“It’s okay, I think you look sexy in anything you wear,” she giggles, cutting her laughter short with a bite of her lip. For a split second, you swear your heart skips a beat.
Blush grows on your cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliment. “O-oh, uh, thanks. You look, um, very nice too.”
“Just nice?” She pouts cutely. “I got all dressed up for you and that’s all you’re gonna say?”
The heat in your face deepens as you nervously avert your gaze. You compliment the girls all the time, why do you suddenly feel weird about it now? “You look… very pretty, Gaeul.”
She grins warmly, satisfied by your answer. “Thank you. Now eat up! It’s all for you.”
You spend the next few minutes in pure bliss trying out every single dish, each bite better than the last. Sweet, savory, bitter, earthy, flavor combinations you never even knew existed dance around on your taste buds; pair that with the rich taste of the wine and suddenly, you’re floating on cloud nine.
“How’s the food?” She asks. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Of course I am,” you say, grinning at her. “I’m eating delicious food and drinking expensive wine with a beautiful girl.”
“Oh?” Her brow raises with intrigue, a smirk playing on her glossy lips. “Beautiful? I thought you said I was just pretty?”
“I-I mean yeah, the entire world thinks you’re beautiful,” you stutter, trying to keep your inhibitions in check, a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.
“Okay, but what do you think?” Gaeul leans in like a predator backing up its prey into a corner, her light-hearted tone dropping to reveal something more sultry.
You gulp, beads of sweat forming on your head. “W-well, I think you’re a great performer and-”
“That’s not what I meant,” she states, staring intently at you. “Have you ever thought about me? Imagining what you would do to me if we were all alone with no one to bother us, just me and you?” She brings her spoon to her lips, giving it a slow, sensuous lick without ever breaking eye contact.
You shiver as her tongue dances across the silver, desperately wishing it was you instead of the damn spoon. You shouldn’t be having these impure thoughts—though you’d be lying if you said this is the first time you’ve looked at Gaeul this way. You’re her manager, Starship will toss you out in an instant if they suspect that you took the job just to get with the idols. But it’s so hard to think properly with the alcohol flowing through your system and the tightening in your pants.
Tell her no. Stop her advances immediately before things get out of hand. Yet, you don’t object as Gaeul takes your hand, leading you out of the restaurant. The words start to meld together like goo, all you can make out is an utterance of a “good time” and how you’ve been such a “good boy”. You say a lot of things to her, probably—it’s hard to talk with her tongue shoved in your mouth—but as the taxi takes you to the familiar route towards her apartment, the only clear thought running through your head is how impossible it is to tell this girl “no”.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 3: HOW TO PLEASURE A MAN
Gaeul tosses her phone on her bed, scoffing in disgust. After her conversation with Wonyoung last night, she binge watched the first two lessons, even jotting down notes to remember for later. As much as she would hate to admit it, the questionable looking website is an information goldmine for a desperate soul like hers, it’s a wonder how she hasn’t stumbled upon it before. However, her view of it immediately soured again after watching the third lesson.
“Act submissive? Let him do whatever he wants?” Gaeul questions, reiterating the points made in the video. “What kind of bullshit advice is this? If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I’m not trying to be their little fuck doll or whatever!”
She paces around her room, hands running through her hair over and over again as the thoughts bounce around her frustrated mind. What’s the point in doing all this work trying to get a boyfriend if it only amounts to his pleasure? What about her needs? Is she supposed to be happy being reduced to a glorified cum rag?
Fuck no. A sudden realization hits her like a bolt from the blue — She’s Gaeul from IVE. An icon in one of if not the most popular girl group in the world. Any man should feel lucky that she even gave them the time of day.
With a newfound determination, Gaeul picks up her phone, her finger hovering tentatively over the “Call” button on her manager’s contract. She’ll use what she learned in the first two videos for sure; she’s not dumb enough to completely disregard their teachings. But if—no, when things get to the bedroom, she’ll do things her own way.
______________________________________________________________
You and Gaeul stumble through the door of the dorm, lips, limbs, and fingers intertwined in a needy ball of lust. Don’t even bother making it to her room, half of your clothes are already off by the time you reach the living room. Palm her toned stomach, savor the taste of her lewd moans dancing off her tongue and onto yours, shiver as her nails graze against your skin. Do all the dirty things you’ve kept hidden in the back of your mind.
Gaeul breaks away, sitting back on the couch as she strips away the rest of her dress, leaving her in a matching set of black undergarments. She spreads her legs, inviting you to fill the space in between.
“Eat me out,” she commands, words unwavering even as the sheen of arousal coating her thighs tells you exactly how badly she needs this. You quickly oblige, practically diving face first into her sweet heat. Discard her soaked panties; to you, they’re just another obstacle keeping you from what you really want.
“Good boy~,” Gaeul moans as you attack her slit with your tongue. You alternate between long, slow licks to flicking your tongue furiously against her clit. She yanks at your hair, forcing you to take a whiff of her sex. Her scent is intoxicating. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, all you can think about is about pleasuring her gorgeous pussy.
“F-fuck yes, lick my pussy, you fucking perv!” she goads you on and you follow her every command like the dog that you are. Her slim thighs wrap around your head, forcing you deeper and deeper into her until it’s physically impossible for you to get any closer. Forget the alcohol, you’re getting drunker on the sweet nectar dripping from her hole.
Fuck her with your fingers as you lap at her clit with a hunger you’ve never felt before. Her guttural moans are like a siren song, drawing you into her. The way her face contorts with pleasure is so alluring. You thought she was attractive already, but fuck this is the kind of beauty that only you are lucky enough to see. No hounding fans, no Dispatch, just you and Gaeul.
She grabs your hair, pulling you away from her heat, much to your dismay. “Take your fucking cock out,” she commands before pushing you back onto the floor. You make quick work of your boxers, but before you can ask for a condom, Gaeul’s already climbing all over you, lining up your painfully erect cock with her slit.
“W-wait, Gaeul-”
She clasps her hand over your mouth, leering at you with a ravenous glare. “I’ve waited too long for this to use a damn condom. You’re just gonna have to pull out or I’m kicking your ass out into the streets, got it?”
You nod, both terrified and turned on by this new side of Gaeul. With her hand still covering your mouth, she slowly impales herself on your rod, her face silently contorting with each inch of you she takes. You move to grab her hips, but she swats your hand away.
“Absolutely fucking not, we’re doing this my way,” she growls at you. All you can do is submit as she fucks herself onto you at a selfishly slow pace like you’re nothing more than her personal dildo. Your hot breath flows through the miniscule gaps in between her fingers, not even giving you the luxury of a deep breath. You want to get angry, you want to show her who’s boss, but each time she slams her hips down onto you, it’s like she sucks away your will to fight little by little until you're completely left at her mercy.
“Fuck, this is so much better than using my fingers,” she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “I bet you’ve imagined this before, huh? Filling my pussy with your disgusting cock?”
You nod sheepishly. Her words aren’t entirely false; you’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with some of the girls, but never did you think you would actually get the chance to. Gaeul rocks her hips back and forth, relishing in the way your breath quickens and your eyes twitch with each slam of her petite hips. You feel yourself begin to reach the apex of your climax and urgently tap her thighs to warn her, but all she does is laugh in your face.
“You wanna dump your cum deep into my cunt, don’t you? Impregnate me with your disgusting seed?” she teases. “I’m not on the pill. What are you gonna do?”
Your eyes clamp shut, trying desperately to ignore the building sensation in the pit of your stomach. But with her warm walls making you lose all sense of control, it’s only a matter of time before you inevitably burst inside of her. Right at the last second, you grab Gaeul’s hips and lift her off of you, shooting your cum onto your stomach. Gaeul’s body shakes violently as she reaches her own orgasm, furiously rubbing at her clit as her juices spray all over your torso. Once her messy climax subsides, she scoops a dollop of your semen off of your stomach and licks it, swirling your combined juices in her mouth with a smirk.
“Mmm, tasty,” she says, cupping your chin while her other hand strokes your semi-hard shaft. “You better get it up soon, I’m not done using you.”
“Y-yes…” you mutter, still basking in the high of your orgasm.
Her grip on your face deepens, digging her nails into your cheek. “Yes, who?”
“Yes… mistress,” you utter like the word is commonplace on your tongue. With an amused smirk, Gaeul plants a kiss on your lips, much gentler than you had anticipated.
“You learn quickly. Good boy~” Hearing her say that makes your skin shiver in delight, craving the sensual lilt in her voice. You want her approval. You need her approval. With her, you’re not her manager anymore, you’re her plaything that lives to serve her.
Gaeul bites her lip as she looks down at your cock, already at full mast once again. “Carry me to my room.”
“Yes, mistress,” you answer promptly, scooping her up into your arms. Gaeul nips at your ear as you carry her to her room, trapping yourself inside with the little beast that you’ve worked with for years. The line of morality blurs to the point of disappearing, almost as if it was never there in the first place. It doesn’t matter anymore. All you care about is serving your mistress until she’s completely satisfied.
______________________________________________________________
Your eyes blink open to sunlight peeking through the window. The mattress feels oddly soft, more so than usual. Maybe it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get a new mattress. A blinding headache keeps you glued to your back, unable to make any sudden movements. Your ceiling fan looks odd too. Has it always been this big?
The door clicks open followed by a few light footsteps. “Good morning!” That’s Gaeul’s voice. Why is that Gaeul’s voice?
Panic begins to ensue as you finally look around the room. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your mattress. That’s not your ceiling fan. And where the hell are your clothes?
“W-what the-”
“Here.” Gaeul hands you a water bottle. “I bet your hangover is killing you right now.”
You quickly cover yourself with a blanket, blushing sheepishly. “G-Gaeul… Why am I here? A-and where are my cloth-” Your jaw drops in shock as you scan her outfit — She’s wearing your t-shirt paired with nothing but black panties.
“W-why are you wearing my shirt!?”
She pouts at you, placing the water bottle on her nightstand. “Do you not remember what happened last night?” She leans in with a smirk. “Because I definitely do.”
Her warmth tickles your ear. It’s an oddly… pleasant feeling, but that’s not important right now. “D-did we…?”
“Have sex?” Gaeul finishes your sentence, sitting down next to you. “Yes, we did. And it was amazing.”
Your face falls into your hands. You could lose your job for this. Hell, you could get blacklisted from the entire industry. No one’s going to want to hire a manager that fucked an idol they were supposed to be managing. This is it. You’re gonna have to flee the country, maybe even change your name. You’ll become a beet farmer on some remote island where your only friend is a seagull and-
“Hey,” Gaeul soothes you, rubbing your back. “You look worried. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I-I should’ve never let this happen, I could lose my job, my apartment, my-”
“You’re not gonna lose your job,” she assures you. “If they fire you, I’ll threaten to leave the group.” You turn to her, confused. “W-what, why?”
“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “I like you. And you made me feel sooo good last night.”
“U-um…”
“Do you still not remember what happened?” she sighs. You shake your head no. “Hmm… maybe this will help jog your memory.”
With a smirk, Gaeul cups your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her hair is still messy and her face is barren without makeup, yet she still looks so beautiful in front of you. She leans in, giving you that same pleasant feeling as her breath dances on your earlobe.
“Good boy.”
Like a movie, the scenes of last night’s misdeeds play vividly in your mind, reminding you exactly what transpired: The dinner. The taxi ride. The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. You’ve dated submissive girls before, but the way Gaeul dominated you was a whole different experience, nothing you’ve ever felt before. She took away your ability to breathe properly, completely leaving you at her mercy, and you enjoyed it. It felt dirty, but it felt good.
Gaeul chuckles as she notices your erection poking through the blanket. “Did that turn you on?”
“N-no, uh…”
“You’re really gonna be shy about it now? It looked like you were enjoying yourself more than I was last night,” she teases.
The blush on your cheeks deepen. “L-look, I… I’ve never done that kind of thing before. Hell, I’ve never had sex with an idol before. This is all kinda new to me,” you admit.
Gaeul sighs, gazing at the wall in contemplation. “I’ve never done anything like that before either. But I liked it.” She turns to you. “Did you like it?”
“Uh… Yeah. I did.”
“Would you want to keep doing it?”
The threat of losing your job still lingers in your mind. This is all new and potentially dangerous territory, and you have no idea what the future could possibly hold for either of you. But you would be the biggest idiot in the world if you lied to yourself and declined her offer.
“Yeah. I want to keep doing this with you,” you say. With a smile, Gaeul tears away the blanket and excitedly jumps into your lap, her crotch resting on your exposed erection. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing keeping you separated from her sweet pussy.
“So does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” She asks, now grinding her hips against you. Your breath gets thinner as the heat of ecstasy fills up your entire body.
“Y-yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.”
Gaeul grabs your chin, her nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks. “Yes, who?”
A moan escapes your lips as the pleasure mixes with the pain, leaving you in a state of bliss. “Yes, mistress.”
She smirks at you before taking off your shirt, revealing her perky tits and her petite waist to you. “Good boy. I can’t wait to play with you some more~”
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 4: HOW TO MAKE IT LAST
The last few weeks have been the most exciting weeks of your life. All the previous stress of working as IVE’s manager practically disappeared now that you were with Gaeul. No more wrestling with Dispatch after one of the members gets caught anymore, all she has to do is assert her dominance as the oldest and the rest of the members will listen to her. If you knew that a cheat sheet was underneath your nose this whole time, you would’ve dated her sooner.
Of course, to avoid any controversy and damage to the group, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone, including the members. However, that didn’t stop her from constantly calling you to fulfill her needs. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how many people are around, if she’s in need of release, you’re on your knees, lapping at her pussy like it’s your last meal. Gaeul is absolutely crazy, but you would be downright insane to tell your mistress “no”.
After a couple of close calls, both of you decided that it would be best to come clean to her members about your relationship. It’s already hard enough trying to keep your hands off of each other; you wouldn't want any of them to walk in on the two of you while your tongue is deep inside your girlfriend. At first, you assumed that Gaeul would simply send a quick text to the girls to alert them, but it seems like she has some other plans in mind as the two of you wait for them in one of Starship’s meeting rooms.
Gaeul moans in delight as you suck on her neck while she grinds against your leg. “Fuck, that feels good, baby,” she coos.
“Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you think it’ll be awkward if they walk in on us like this?” You ask, nipping at her ear.
“I locked the door, so they’ll have to knock before they can come in.” Of course she accounted for that. God, you fucking love her. “Now shut up and get back to sucking.”
“Yes, mistress,” you oblige, sinking your fingers into her ass as you ravage her neck. However, your playtime is cut short as a knock at the door signals the presence of the other girls.
“God dammit,” you groan. “Can we make this quick, babe? I need you so badly.”
Gaeul flashes you a mischievous smirk, giving you a soft parting kiss before climbing out of your lap. “Don’t worry, cutie, we’ll get to have some fun sooner than you think.” You ogle at her hips as she sashays over to the door, unlocking it and smiling brightly at Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, and Rei as they file through. You try to offer a similar smile, but with the aching in your jeans, you’re barely coherent enough to breathe properly.
“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Gaeul exclaims, locking the door behind them.
“Of course!” Yujin replies. “You said you had an important announcement, so that means it’s important to us too!”
“Couldn’t you just text us though? And why is our manager here?” Rei asks, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. You nervously avert your gaze, looking towards Gaeul for support.
“Because he’s part of this and I wanted to show you guys something in person,” Gaeul explains. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’re all aware of how much I’ve been complaining about not having a boyfriend, and-”
“Wah! You got a boyfriend!?” Liz exclaims, connecting the dots fairly quickly. “Who is it? Is it that one rookie that was staring at you during recording last week?”
“Ew, no,” she grimaces. “It’s actually someone all of you know very well.” Gaeul suddenly climbs onto your lap, planting a delicate kiss on your cheek. Normally, you would feel pretty nervous about doing something this vulgar in front of others, but her body heat combined with your raging hormones from your interrupted makeout session makes you completely forget about everyone else. A billion people could be watching and you would still let this gorgeous beauty do anything she wants to your body.
The girls applaud at Gaeul’s announcement, except for Wonyoung, who overdramatically rolls her eyes at the news. “You called us in to tell us this? It was so obvious you two were dating, you were practically attached at the hip for the past couple weeks.”
Gaeul chuckles, eyes darkening as she captures you with her gaze. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you guys too.” Much to your dismay, she gets off of you and drags a chair some distance away from you, sitting down. “You see, our manager here is actually a bit of a freak.”
The girls stifle their laughter as they glance at you, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment and confusion. “U-um, babe? W-what are you-”
“I could’ve acted like some ‘ditzy little fuck doll’ and let him have his way with me,” Gaeul scoffs, disdain dripping in her tone. “But then I thought ‘Why should I let him have all the fun? Our dear manager is always bossing us around, so why don’t I take charge for once?’ Granted, it was a gamble, but it paid off sooo fucking well. Don’t you agree, baby?”
Your cheeks grow redder by the second as they all look at you expectantly. “I-I mean, yeah, I-I liked it-” Suddenly, a piece of fabric hits you in the face. You examine it in your hands, your eyes growing wide with shock as you realize what it is — Gaeul’s shirt.
The rest of her members cheer at her boldness while your heart pounds against your chest, tracing her silhouette with your hungry gaze. “Crawl,” she commands.
Your eyes dart nervously between her and the rest of the girls, desire and judgment warring in your mind. “B-b-but-”
“I didn’t say you could speak,” she spits, her eyes narrowing. “Now, be a good boy and fucking crawl.”
A flip switches in your brain as desire wins the war by a landslide. Any hint of embarrassment you once held is now gone, replaced by an overwhelming amount of lust. You fall to your hands and knees, ignoring the hollering from the other girls. To you, they don’t exist anymore. All that matters is satisfying your mistress in any way you can.
Gaeul harshly grips your hair once you reach her, forcing you to stare into her eyes. The heat from her breath hits your face, driving you mad with want. You swear a glob of drool falls from your lip at the thought of getting to taste her sweet pussy again.
She drags her thumb over your lips, smirking. “Tell them what you are,” she orders, turning your head towards her members. Wonyoung rests her head against her palm like she’d rather be somewhere else, while Yujin starts recording you with her phone, no doubt to hold it over your head if you inconvenience her later on. Liz stares at you, deeply flustered, yet a hint of jealousy in her eyes, and you notice Rei sneakily trying to touch herself, her face beet red with pent up arousal.
“I am mistress’s plaything. I live to satisfy her and her alone, no matter where or when she asks me to,” you state. Wonyoung mouths an impressed “Oh wow” at Gaeul before glancing at you with a hint of disgust in her eyes.
Your hair is yanked back towards your girlfriend. “Mmm, it’s cute just how pathetic you fucking look. I bet you want your reward now, don’t you?” She teases the hem of her shorts with her other hand, flashing a glimpse of her panties at you. You nod enthusiastically, ignoring the pain in your scalp while you pant like a dog with desperation.
“Y-yes, please. I want you so badly, mistress. I crave the taste of your sweetness,” you beg. She smirks at you before standing up and removing her shorts, leaving just the fabric of her panties to block you from the true prize within like a wrapper on a candy bar. Hastily, you move your hands to the hem of her panties, but she quickly swats them away.
“Use your teeth, you fucking dog,” she spits.
“Yes, mistress.” As you get closer to her heat, her scent wafts through your nose, sending your mind deeper into a frenzy. You bite down onto the hem and jerk your head downwards, quickly uncovering the object of your desire hiding underneath. With her panties hanging from your teeth, you look up at her in search of her approval.
“Damn, I wish my boyfriend was that obedient…” Liz mutters under her breath.
Gaeul gently cups your chin, smiling at you with a palpable desire in her eyes. You love that look. You want her to look at you like that all the time, even if it means humiliating yourself in front of the girl group that you are paid to take care of. You are her pet, her plaything, her good boy that does anything she wants.
“Lick my pussy, baby,” she whispers, commanding yet soft. She bites her lip as she watches your face inch closer and closer to her dripping core, glistening and beautiful. You run your tongue along her slit, gratefully lapping at her juices while your hands caress her slender thighs. Gaeul grinds her hips against your face, pulling at your hair every time you make contact with her clit.
“F-fuck yes!” she moans, forgetting about the audience that she brought along. “J-just like that… Such a good boy… K-keep fucking me with that tongue, oh fuck!”
The sound of her pleasure is your favorite song, but it gets harder to hear as her thighs clamp around your ears. No matter; you’re doing this for her and not for you, after all. Double your efforts to please her, work your fingers into her hole while you flick your tongue against her clit. Don’t worry about the cramping in your tongue or the lack of oxygen in your lungs. All the pain is worth it for your mistress.
You feel her entire body contract as her orgasm overtakes, nearly collapsing on top of you in the process. You do your best to support her body, all while drinking up her nectar like it’s the first drop of rainfall during a long drought. The familiar tanginess hits your tongue, a flavor that you crave more than the fancy dinner she treated you on your first night together.
“H-holy shit…” Gaeul stutters, holding onto your shoulders for support as she catches her breath. “Get on the chair… I-I wanna ride you…”
You notice her legs are still shaking underneath her. “A-are you sur-”
“I said get on the fucking chair!”
You quickly jump to your feet and do as you're told, subtly making sure Gaeul doesn’t fall over before moving from underneath her. She silently scorns you with a furious glare for not immediately following her orders. The rest of the girls watch with bated breath, not used to this side of her.
Gaeul makes quick work of your jeans and your boxers, roughly squeezing your shaft in between her fingers. “Are you gonna keep fucking disobeying me, or are you gonna follow my instructions like a good boy?” she whispers harshly into your ear.
You squirm underneath her grasp, the pain only turning you on even more. “I-I’ll be a good boy, mistress. I s-swear.”
“U-um…” Wonyoung nervously interjects. “Isn’t this a bit much, Gaeul? He looks like he’s in pain.”
Gaeul wraps her other hand around your neck, her palm pushing against your Adam's apple. You moan against her touch, enjoying the lightheadedness. “Don’t you like this, baby? Don’t you love being a good little dog for me?” She teases, slowly stroking your cock.
“Y-yes, I love it so much. I love being my mistress’s dog,” you say, your breath shivering.
Gaeul turns back to Wonyoung. “See? He likes it,” she states simply. Wonyoung concedes and sinks into her chair, continuing to watch the sick and twisted display of affection in front of her with faint but growing interest.
With that out of the way, Gaeul turns back to you and hops into your lap, teasing your tip by dragging it along her wet slit. “Do you want this pussy, baby? Do you want to fill it with your disgusting cock?”
“Y-yes, mistress. I want you so badly.” Your skin crawls as jolts of electricity shoot through you with each slow drag of her lips. Any ounce of sanity you had left has completely turned into mush at this point. Despite your basest desires, you know better than to thrust into her without her permission. She has you right under her thumb, and any mistake could mean getting squashed without warning.
Her grip on your neck tightens. “Beg for it, bitch.”
“P-please… I-I need it… N-need you…” you manage to choke out, writhing under her grasp. She grins at you, shoving a messy kiss on your lips as she slams her hips down onto you. She rips a moan from deep within your chest as you grant her tongue free reign over yours, earning a hum of satisfaction in response. Her velvety walls grip onto your cock, squeezing any remaining energy you had left. You’re nothing more than a glorified dildo to be used by your merciful mistress.
Gaeul suddenly breaks the kiss, slapping you across the face. Blood rushes to your cheek, now marked red by her hand.
“Gaeul…!” Yujin gasps in shock. “Th-that’s-”
“Do it again!” you plead, silencing her concern. “P-please, mistress. Hit me again.”
Your mistress bites her lip at you, intensifying the gyration of her hips while blessing your cheeks with a frenzy of slaps. You grow dizzy with pain and pleasure, higher than any drug could ever take you.
“T-take it, you fucking dog!” she moans, continuing her assault on your face as her second orgasm rapidly approaches. You feel your own quickly following suit and tap her thigh to warn her, but Gaeul instead wraps her arms around you, showing no signs of slowing down her hips.
“I-I’m safe today, b-baby,” she whispers into your ear, much more gentle than she usually is. “Y-you can c-cum in me if you want… I f-fucking love you…”
The walls of her gorgeous pussy squeeze your shaft as she squirts onto your cock. You follow her soon after, covering her insides with your cum for the first time ever, clinging onto Gaeul’s delicate body. Your mind floats around in pure ecstasy, a feeling you never want to let go of. Gaeul lazily kisses on your neck as she recovers from her high.
“I… love you… too,” you breathlessly mutter before falling victim to exhaustion and collapsing against the chair. Gaeul climbs off of your lap and collects her discarded clothing off the ground, stumbling with each step.
“Well… that was interesting to say the least,” Yujin says after a long silence, finishing the recording on her phone.
“Send me that video later, that was really hot…” Rei whispers to her.
“Um, is he gonna be okay?” Liz asks. “I’m pretty sure we have a schedule tomorrow.”
Gaeul looks over to your now sleeping form and smiles with adoration. She kisses your reddened cheek, careful not to wake you. “He’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure,” she assures them.
Wonyoung stands up from her seat. “I’m glad you found a good… boytoy, or whatever you call him,” she says, patting Gaeul’s shoulder before leaving the meeting room. The rest of the girls follow suit, leaving Gaeul alone with you as she waits for you to wake up.
She slides a chair next to you and plants another gentle kiss on your cheek before sitting. “Good boy~” she whispers delicately, resting her head on your shoulder.
#ive#kim gaeul#ive gaeul#kpop fanfic#kpop gg#ive x male reader#ive x male oc#ive gaeul x male reader#ive gaeul x male oc#smut#gaeul smut#ive gaeul smut
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bombshell finds tickets to a russian movie thing sitting in spencer’s desk at work and they’re about to like run out (?) so she presents them to spencer and asks him on a date and pretends that she didn’t just pull them out of spencers desk in that bombshell way
You’re looking for gum. If Spencer were at his desk, you’d politely beg for a stick and he’d give it to you, but he’s not here, so you must search.
You sit in his seat, slinking down as he does with poor posture, your kitten heels hitting the spine of a book kept under the desk. Your dress’ skirt rises up your thighs, the fabric at your neck pulls, but you have bigger problems. You’re feeling the weird franticness of unspent energy and only a stick of gum is gonna fix you.
He has a drawer full of things, neatness traded for space. Blue and pink paper clips in an arrowhead shaped box. Push pins of all colours, their box more ordinary. He has a travel book on indigenous North American birds with stamps held between the pages, a plastic bottle cap, train stubs from Quantico to the station outside of his apartment and a bottle of ibuprofen missing half of its contents.
Your fingers dig around for the familiar shape of a packet of gum, hesitating thoughtfully against the thread of a thicker cardstock.
You pull a cream envelope from the desk and, perhaps wrongfully, unveil the contents: two tickets to see any Russian flick at the foreign language theatre free of charge (if you buy a large drink). They expire tonight.
You press them to your chest and spin in Spencer’s chair without any regard for whoever might see you slouching. Across the office with his hair out of his face and a smile bordering lackadaisical stands your favourite. He even has a pencil in hand. He likes to underline things in the books he reads for your benefit. It’s the pencil that decides your next move.
You stand up, brushing down your nice dress that he seems to like, a black cotton with thin pinstripes settling nicely just above your knees. You check your lipstick in the black reflection of his sleeping monitor, buzzing.
He’s watching you when you turn back. You hide the tickets behind your hip and begin a light walk to his side, the chug of the printer a constant hum you can feel in your shoes.
“What’s up?” he asks.
You tilt your head toward your shoulder ever so slightly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He squints. “You’re acting strange.”
“Suspicious,” you correct.
“That, too.”
“How come you let me hold your hand?”
Spencer doesn’t hide his surprise at your question very well. His eyes turn deer in the headlights, then down to the printer. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“When we first met, you wouldn’t shake my hand. And that’s okay,” —your smile is loving in the hope that he finds your question as the curiosity it is and not an interrogation— “I’m just wondering what changed.”
“I was distracted.” He’s talking about the first time you took his hand, the two of you on the way to the office. “You stopped me from being late.”
“Right, but I should’ve asked and I didn’t. And now we hold hands all the time.” You take a half step back. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just wondering.”
“Nobody’s held my hand in a really long time. And you’re mostly clean.”
“Mostly!” you laugh, giving him a guilty smile. “I’m super clean, I just forget how gross door handles are sometimes.”
You have embarrassed him, in a way. It’s really not what you meant to do, not when you’re about to ask him on a date.
Ever since you started your official position at the BAU, you and Spencer have grown closer, but there’s a difference between flirting because he’s lovely and flirting because you want him to be your boyfriend. (Not that he knows what you want.) You shouldn’t have started with the hand holding thing.
“Spencer.”
“Yeah?”
“Will you go on a date with me?” You present him with the movie tickets. “Got these, they expire tonight…”
“Are those from my desk?” he asks, taking the tickets from you to look over closely.
“I’d love to go with you, unless you’re gonna take someone else, which is fine.” You embarrass yourself a little, even though you’re not, hoping it makes up for the hand-holding investigation. “Yeah, they’re from your desk. Sorry. I really wanted a stick of gum, my– my nervous energy is through the roof today.”
Spencer frowns at you again. “How come?” he asks softly.
“I don’t know. It just happens sometimes.”
And that’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to him. Your perfect mask is broken, and Spencer doesn’t look at you any differently. “Do you actually wanna go to the movies?” he asks.
“Only if I’m not stealing you away from somebody else.”
“There’s no one else.”
Spencer abruptly turns his attention to the printer, where he collects his copies and shuffles them into a straight, neat pile.
You recover quickly, though inside your heart is a stuttering mess. “I should hope not,” you say. “Okay. Awesome. I’ll bring hand sanitiser and you can hold my hand through the previews.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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can you imagine if like. object show characters were active on tumblr . i mean fans on here but his account is dead so. i mean itd be fun
#rocket talk #roc save #Fan come Back we miss you
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💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
OH MY GOD NEW TPOT EPIWODHWND IM GONNA GO INSANE ONE!!! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS ONE!!!!!!
1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow
:)
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
HELLO??
#oh my god HI . THIS IS LIKE IF A CELEBRITY CAME UP TO ME IN PUBLIC. #ARE THE OTHER ALGEBRALIENS ON TUMBLR??? #/WHAT/
(3 notes)
🧪 test-tubular Follow
My best friend is pacing around my lab. I think a new episode's come out on one of his shows...
#I love him (/p) but he's going to become an unskippable cutscene very quickly
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⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow
i love shrimpy but it feels like he rlly doesnt ... get what i mean you know 😔 at least hes trying to cheer me up? i just wish i had someone to really talk to when it comes to these weird things i keep seeing
💼 emotional-baggage Follow
hey, i completely understand how you feel! im going to be busy the next few days with a finale, but ive sent you a dm if you need someone to talk to ^-^
⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow
thanks, ill take you up on that later!
⛔ nowayhuhuh Follow
...suitcase?
#i dont think shes been online since that last post #i hope shes alright...
(5 notes)
💰 goforthegold Follow
Reblogging this every time I miss my co-hosts!
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
🎮 iamnotmrkrabs Follow
Are you Okay
💰 goforthegold Follow
Take a wild guess.
(512 notes)
🥈 5centwonder Follow
why do people keep messaging me about hotel things?? i barely even go in two's hotel!
🥈 5centwonder Follow
yowie, you all need a hug :(!!
#especially you baseball guy!!! #im giving everyone in the comments a nice warm soft cookie
(19 notes)
🆚️ wordswithfriends Follow
Reblog if you think Flower winning BFB was a good choice, you like cheesecake, you hate Steve Cobs, you think Platinum is annoying, you're a fan of Dr. Fizz, you watch Jasonville TV, you think Glowstick's elimination was deserved, or you're gay
#they'll never know which one #i'm gay
(3,724 notes)
🔌 electricalmusical Follow
WHY IS THERE INTERNET IN RJE AFTERLIFE HELLO
👑 kingofeverything Follow
OMG NO WAY
🎡 not-tally-hall Follow
GET OFF OF TUMBLR.
🔌 electricalmusical Follow
YOU HAVE??? A TUMBRL???????
🎡 not-tally-hall Follow
...no.
👑 kingofeverything Follow
reblog if u dont have a tumblr
🎡 not-tally-hall Follow
This is stupid.
(10,734 notes)
🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow
imagine needing to be Consistent to be popular
🖍 magic-crayons Follow
You know it girl!!!
🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow
AYYYEEEE
#idk who u are but we should hang out Now
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🟢 greenyguy Follow
🅱️alls
(42,853 notes)
🎒 liam-plecak Follow
Oh my god I finally got this thing to connect to the internet. Okay.
Hello, Tumblr, my name is Liam Plecak. I'm sorry for the tag spam, but this is an urgent enough matter that I think warrants it.
For the past year and a half, I've been trapped in another universe with little-to-no communication to anyone else. I've been reading a few posts here and there, and I think some of you might be able to help with freeing me and my friends (I think some of you have powers?). Below is an in-depth description of where I am, what happened, and who did this to me. Please, if you can help, send me an ask.
Keep reading
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
oh my god? liam from hfjone is fucking real????
🎒 liam-plecak Follow
I'm sorry what
#unreality#fake dashboard#inanimate insanity#osc#object shows#object show community#bfdi#itft#ppt2 osc#ppt2#malueslots#showvember#greenyguy#hfjone#brawl of the objects#paper puppets take 2#onehfj
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