#my favorite suits are gonna be another post

[nonovyabuisness]

WINTER SYGMA SUITS !

[theharddeck]

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 

But. 

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 

Why did guys in real life never moan? 

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl. 

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 

Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it). 

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before?? 

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 

A knock on your door startled you. 

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused. 

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 

He looked the same. 

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills. 

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again. 

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob. 

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 

Of course he did. 

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 

Objectively, Bob was the best. 

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 

He pushed himself off the bed. 

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 

You kissed him. 

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 

He was so soft. 

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 

“Can I show you?” you asked. 

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 

It was better with him. 

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good. 

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 

You felt like you were floating. 

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 

He wasn’t done, either. 

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man. 

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 

You loved the feeling of his skin. 

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 

Fuck. 

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

Holy. Shit. 

He looked like a work of art. 

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you. 

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 

Fuck, he felt so good. 

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything. 

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying. 

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 

He knew, somehow. 

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips. 

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 

And then. 

And then he got close. 

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 

When you came back, you were on your side. 

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

//

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

[messrmoonyy]

Keeping warm in colter ( drabble )

Inspired by this post by @noxspluto because I saw it and immediately had to get this little like 500 ish word vomit out

Also. Here’s my masterlist if you’re so inclined

“ the hell you doin out here? Back inside it’s freezin” Arthur used as a greeting, grumbling but with no real malice in his words, as you appeared by his side at the campfire. You were used to his grumpy tone, but he always had a soft spot for you.

“ makin’ sure you ain’t froze to death “ you said softly, rubbing at your arms as you joined him by the fire. It was Arthur’s turn on watch and he’d been out there a good couple of hours now “ and I can’t listen to Abigail and John argue for a second longer “ you sighed. At least in their old camps you could get away from their squabbles. But with everyone all squished into one cabin it was impossible now.

You’d rather take the cold outside with Arthur. You pulled your thick shawl tighter around yourself and held your hands out to the flames, you’d only been out there a few minutes and already you felt like ice. And he’d been out there hours. So you’d suck it up.

“ c’mere “ he grumbled and unbuttoned his coat, a gentle hand on your arm tugging you into the welcoming warmth of the thick material. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your head to his chest, a soft sigh leaving your chapped lips. He wrapped the coat tightly around you, his arms following suit and holding you close. He was like a walking oven, his body heat seeping through the thick wool of your shawl and chasing the chill away. “ better?”

“ mhm. Thank you sugar “ you sighed and let yourself relax a little more in his hold, taking in his familiar scent. The comforting feel of his sturdy body in your embrace. Always strong for you. Always a rock when things got rough “ we’re gonna be alright. Ain’t we Arthur?” You asked softly after a few moments. The last few days had been hellish. You’d liked Blackwater. You’d liked the camp. The town. And it wasn’t covered in inches of snow which really made it a favorite at the current moment.

“ course we are. Dutch has a plan “ Dutch always had a plan. But you don’t want to get into that conversation right now. So you simply nodded and let out another shaky exhale, a puff of fog as you did “ and y’know I always keep you safe darlin’ I won’t let nothin’ bad happen to ya. Ever “

He did. Always. You’d been the first person he grabbed at the Blackwater camp after everything went crazy, not letting you out of his sight for a second like he was scared you’d get left behind somehow. He’d never allow that. He’d move heaven and earth to keep you safe. Set the dark world ablaze to keep you warm. Nothing would ever get in the way of Arthur keeping you safe.

“ I know “ you tipped your head to look up at him with a soft smile and he leant down pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your turned away as he did with a small laugh

“ what’s got you giggling’ now?”

“ you got lips like damn ice Arthur!” He chuckled at that and simply did it again, pressing his cold chapped lips against your forehead.

“ oh I do? I do?” He asked as he held you tightly and kept pressing his frozen lips to your forehead, your nose, your cheek. Wherever he could reach as you giggled and squirmed in his embrace

“ Arthur!” Your cheeks ached from smiling for the first time since leaving Blackwater, and Arthur’s chuckles alone were enough to ease your worries. Because as long you had him maybe everything would be okay.

[leclercmode]

written on the books ☁️ charles leclerc

summary: charles being your biggest fan.

couple: f1 driver! charles x singer! you

face claim: sabrina carpenter

ynusername

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ynusername see you soon, los angeles!! feeling so grateful for the memories <3

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selenagomez so proud of you 🤍

bellahadid my angel baby bestie

arianagrande you look so great!!!!!!!!!! can’t wait to see you again 🤍🫧🫧

dualipa LOVE U!!!!!

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ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande, and 9.762.917 others

ynusername love you guys 🌟

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madisonbeer u r unbelievable superstar

madelyncline wow wow wow yes yes yes 👼🏻🧚🏻‍♀️✨

gigihadid amazing 😍

arianagrande WHAT THE EFFFFF I LOVE YOU

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charles_leclerc

Liked by ynusername, carlossainz55, and 608.013 others

charles_leclerc back on pooooooole babyyyy. really happy with that. but before sunday’s race, we’ve got another qualifying and the sprint race this afternoon. let’s go!

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user1 YN LIKED WTF

user2 congrats baby we love you and we’re so proud of you (WHAT THE F YN IS DOING HERE)

user3 let’s go for moreeeee

user4 am i the only one who does not like yn’s songs

user5 @user4 yes you are

user6 @user4 yes

user7 @user4 yup

user8 congrats and good luck for today’s race

user9 c’mon charles it’s written in the stars you’ll win today

NOW: F1 2023 US GP Charles Leclerc Post Sprint Race Interview

comments ⬇️

user1 WAIT THIS IS ACTUALLY THE CUTEST THING EVER

user2 my favorite era of yn is definitely this one because she looks the happiest omg

user3 i want someone to look at me like charles to yn 🥹 like the pureness in his eyes omg im actually gonna faint

user4 finally she gets a matured man

user5 charles found his dream girl

user6 i absolutely love this, charles needs someone like yn and yn needs someone like charles!!!!!

user7 im a yn fan and a reader this is my girl dinner

user8 this actually made me feel so happy for them and teared up a bit.

user9 the thing that gives me goosebumps is the songs she will possibly write about these moments!!!

ynupdates

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ynupdates Charles Leclerc at The Eras Tour.

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user10 OMG THEY ARE SO CUTE IM GONNA PASS OUT

user11 why is dude wearing a ferrari shirt

user12 @user11 dude lives for ferrari

user13 i love how charles isn’t afraid to let yn shine because he knows what she’s worth and is one of her biggest fans, im so happy for her.

user14 @user13 exactly!!!!

user15 @user13 this is why this is her FOREVER!

user16 her next album is gonna be SO LOVELY

user17 i want to be them

user18 OMG!!!! this. she looks so happy and he’s batshit smitten by her.

user19 @user18 they suit each other perfectly

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc what a day ❤️

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ynusername love you 🌟 so proud of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

❤️ by author

arthur_leclerc 😍😍

user20 THIS PIC OMG IM SHAKING

user21 marry this man

user22 that’s so hot of him

user23 he’s like fck the podium im gonna kiss my girl

user24 that’s a true man

ynusername

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ynusername thank you for the flowers 🥹🤍🌟🫧 @charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc i love you.

arianagrande i love you guys so much 🫧🫧🫧🫧

bellahadid 😍

selenagomez happy for you 🥰

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[cyberlsk]

happy new year, leon!

leon s. kennedy/fem!reader (fluff <3) warnings: leon is an affectionate drunk (he's so sappy i love him), he’s so so cute a/n: first fic, hi guys!! wc: 1k (short and sweet)

It’s half past twelve and there’s no movement downstairs, no poorly concealed footfalls as Leon skitters inside.

Strange. Your eyes shoot open at an incoming message from your boyfriend: Heading home. I love you, followed by an excess of emojis that Claire had taught him to use (no, Leon, you shouldn’t comment that red sweating emoji under Chris’s gym post–no, it doesn’t mean that, he’s gonna think you’re hitting on him). 

Fifteen minutes pass and you hear the front door crack open. Someone grunts, followed by the sound of low muttering and Leon’s characteristic groans. You patter down the stairs.

“Leon?” you ask softly. Two pairs of eyes meet yours–Chris, hauling Leon’s clearly drunk ass inside, and Leon, giving you the dopiest grin. 

“Baby…” he nearly whines, pouting.  Slightly damp hair sticking to his forehead and curling at the nape of his neck, big blue eyes begging for your attention.

“We played a drinking game and this dumbass” – he smacks Leon on the shoulder– “had way too many drinks. It’s unbelievable. How can one person be that bad at a game?”

“M’ not bad,” Leon slurs. Then, leaving wet tracks all over the floors (you were so gonna kill him later), he stumbles forward. “Baby, missed you. Missed you so much.” He doesn’t even bother to take his boots off, much to you and Chris’s chagrin. 

“Hey,” you chide. “No shoes in the house, babe.” A few minutes later, following many apologies toward Chris and many more complaints from Leon, your boyfriend’s in his work suit and Chris heads out. 

Leon buries his face into your neck the second that the front door shuts. “Baby, I missed you. You’re so warm. So nice, and so–” he leans back, placing his cool palms on your face. “So, so pretty. How’d I get so lucky?” You don’t realize your cheeks hurt with how much you’re smiling until he imitates you, sticking his tongue out when you try to scold him. His eyes light up. “I got you a gift!”

After much effort in his inebriated state, he fishes out a thin, velvet box, clasps your hands, and gently places it in your palms. “Open.”

You eye him curiously as you unlatch it and gasp. It was an exquisite necklace, laden with jewels of your favorite colors and twinkling brightly in the sliver of moonlight that beamed through the windows. Simply put, it was gorgeous. “Leon, I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

You don’t notice that Leon has slipped to his knees until he gently tugs you toward him. “Anything for you.” He’s looking up at you with those adorably big blues again.  “Anything for my baby, my pretty baby. Let’s get married,” he babbles, teeth shining. “Don’t have a ring, but lemme–lemme practice. Wanna marry you. Please?”

“Leon, let’s get you to bed–”

“Please,” he says, with those damn puppy eyes again. This man was going to be the death of you. “Let me practice.” Then, with as much coordination as a drunk man can summon, he gets on one knee. “Be my wife?”

You’re stuck to the spot. You can’t tear your eyes away from Leon, the necklace, his flushed cheeks, his hopeful smile. You’re hyperaware of the fact that your hair is awry, you’re fighting sleep behind every blink, and you’re wearing a stained RPD shirt, yet he’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

You kiss the backs of his outstretched hands. “Of course, baby.” And, before you can get another word in, he throws his full body weight on you, wrapping you so tightly in his arms that you fear you’ll suffocate. You reciprocate, tracing small circles into his back while your other hand ruffles his hair. The soft, blond tresses are almost a pale brown in the low lighting. “Of course.”

He continues babbling about how much he loves you as you lead him to the shower, waiting outside the door as a healthy compromise (he initially wanted to hold your hand while he scrubbed himself). The water shuts off; you wait for a minute while he dries himself off. Then another. Then it’s been a good, what, ten minutes, and you crack the door open to make sure he’s doing alright. And he certainly’s a sight.

The first thing you notice is that his lower half is bare, despite the fact that his hair is wrapped in a towel (microfiber, he insisted, to protect his hair). The second thing you notice is that he’s muttering to himself, bent on one leg, standing, then bending on the other. “What are you doing?”

Leon shoots you a lazy smile. “Nothing,” he says. “Just practicing how I’m gonna propose to my wife.” He emphasizes the last word with bravado, running a hand through his hair. You laugh.

“Alright, husband. Put some pants on.”

And though he would wake up tomorrow, hangover and embarrassment fighting to see which would win, you knew he meant every word he said. You gently place your necklace on the nightstand. The second the lights shut off, Leon hums into your shoulder, pressing soft kisses up your clavicle to your chin to your cheeks, anywhere he can get from this position, where your arms and legs are thrown on each others’. 

And despite the uncertainties of his career, you know one thing for sure–Leon loves you, come hell or highwater. Leon loves you, and he professes it to you in any way he can–even if vehemence was never his strongest suit. Leon loves you so, so much that he’ll do whatever it takes to return to you. Just like this.

[rookienando]

our secret moments pt. ii | 𝓯. 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓸

pairing: fernando alonso x f!actress!reader, socmed!au

synopsis: you and fernando's rumored relationship isn't a rumor at all. pt. i

a/n: honestly have no clue if this is gonna have plot and an ending or i'm just writing blurbs because i can. ALSO, age gap mention, but y/n is in her late 20s

f1

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f1 Some of last night's best dressed, the ladies in the paddock certainly slayed the house down at the Austrian Grand Prix! 🤩

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username the caption i can't—

username admin is definitely gen z

f1 👀

username bro actually replied😭

username el nano once again liking another post with y/n in it

username i am sooo convinced something's going on between them

username you need to touch grass

username alex and yn ate so hard i fear

yourusername feeling honored to be considered best dressed alongside some of the loveliest ladies🥰

carmenmmundt i love you x

yourusername i love you too bbg

georgerussell63 stop flirting with my girlfriend in public??

yourusername no❤️

username y/n is so funny

lilymhe 🥺🫶🫶

yourusername 😘

username women supporting women, we love to see it

yourprivateaccount

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yourprivateaccount just the love of my life being the pookiest man ever❤️

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fernandoalo_official Mi bella, why?

georgerussell63 you're adorable, man

fernandoalo_official 😠

yourprivateaccount he's not wrong, my love is actually the cutest human being

fernandoalo_official ☺️❤️

georgerussell63 i call you cute and get an angry emoji, but she does it and gets a heart? 🙄

fernandoalo_official

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fernandoalo_official Always a joy to be in London 🇬🇧

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username he looks so good in that suit oml

username still one of the hottest guys on the grid

username always love a non-aston fernando update

yourusername

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yourusername always down for a night out 🥂

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yourcostar so glad you tried out my favorite london resto 🥺

yourusername liked this comment

yourusername i am now OBSESSED with their filet mignon, thanks sm for telling me about it 🫶

yourbestfriend my bestie ATE

yourusername liked this comment

f1gossipaccount

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f1gossipaccount SPOTTED: F1 driver Fernando Alonso and actress Y/N last night in London ahead of the British Grand Prix. Guess the rumors weren't rumors at all, no? 👀

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username holy shit

username omygod they really are together

username is it just me or anyone else find it off that he's older than her???

username she's in her late 20s, grow up

username dude it's weird, he's so much older than her

username why are y'all acting like she's in college or smth??? she's literally an adult

username i'm actually obsessed with their hug in the last pic

username who wouldn't be?

fernandoalo_official

Liked by oscarpiastri, aussiegrit, carmenmmundt and others

fernandoalo_official Another year down, many more to go with you, vida mía ❤️

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yourusername 💋💌❤️

fernandoalo_official liked this comment

username OKAY IT'S OFFICIAL THEY REALLY ARE TOGETHER

username i'm actually screaming f1 rumors were right for once

username WAIT what do they mean "another year" ???

username omg wait...

username DOES THIS MEAN THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR LONGER

username ISN'T THAT Y/N'S OSCARS DRESS FROM TWO YEARS AGO IN THE SECOND PIC???

username you're so right like?? how long have they been together actually😭

username it's actually so scary they've managed to hide their relationship for so long considering the paparazzi and gossip sites

username the way they're already my favorite f1 couple

f1

Liked by danielricciardo, yukitsunoda0511, alex_albon and others

f1 Found some of the paddock's lovebirds roaming in the Silverstone circuit ahead of the British Grand Prix!

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username not f1 admin hardlaunching them😭

username admin for sure made this post just to get in on the hype

username obsessed with rebecca's paddock fits

username the fernandoyn ship has sailed. i repeat, THE FERNANDOYN SHIP HAS SAILED

yourusername

Liked by fernandoalo_official, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername congrats on p3, my love! i'm so happy to be able to witness you up on that podium again, and i can't wait to see you up there some more. i love you 💚

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fernandoalo_official mi corazón, te amo ❤️

yourusername liked this comment

yourusername te amo, my nando ❤️

[hugsandchaos]

I’m gonna stick my nose in the whole “Phantom being filmed by fans and bystanders during ghost fights and posted on social media” thing and suggest we combine it with “Good Plasmius/Vlad” to get videos and pictures of them being something of an uncle/nephew or student/teacher duo.

One video shows Phantom sparring with Plasmius. Specifically, Phantom accidentally freezes him in a block of ice and seems stuck between laughing his ass off and genuinely apologizing. Plasmius manages to get out eventually, but seems unhappy about Phantom laughing. It doesn’t faze the ghost boy, though.

Someone snapped and posted a picture of Phantom acting all sneaky and hiding behind Plasmius and under his cape, holding the side of the cape under his head with a mischievous smile while Plasmius seems unbothered.

Someone got a picture of Phantom stargazing with a telescope unbothered, face full of sheer excitement and wonder, while Plasmius is chasing a ghost hunter off.

Another person posted a video of Phantom flying, but Plasmius comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the back of his suit (or hood, depending how you draw him), and Phantom sort of goes limp like a cat. He smiles at Plasmius, but the older ghost seems unhappy with him. No one knows the story behind it, but it was funny.

The favorite one so far is a video of Phantom being exhausted after a particularly hard ghost fight and Plasmius showing up a bit too late to help, so he ends up carrying him somewhere else, and if you turn the volume up, you can hear Plasmius say “Get some rest, little badger.” right after Phantom seemingly falls asleep.

[hitlikehammers]

regular-guy!Eddie absolutely did not expect the emotional gut-punch of the ✨RED CARPET INTERVIEW✨ from famous!Steve's movie premiere (or: Part Nine)

He kinda already knew that, and sure he feels exactly the same but…

Fuck if hearing it out loud isn’t something else.💛🎥

<<< back to the obligatory dose of lingering insecurity // back to the beginning

It’s a whole eight-and-a-half hours since Steve left, and Eddie’s opening the door to a delivery guy who’s holding a box from Eddie’s favorite bakery. Eddie didn’t even know they did delivery, but like—

He shouldn’t even be fucking surprised anymore. He’s not surprised by how his heart fills, and trips over itself for how clumsy it gets when it’s a giddy-lovedrunk fool like the rest of him, beating Steve-Steve-Steve through his veins, stumbling like it’s never moved before which is true in a way, maybe the biggest way, because this territory of loving his Stevie demands blissfully, and consumes entirely, all that Eddie is in a way he’s never known before, or feltbefore so yeah, yeah his heart can just shiver madly with it as long as it goddamn wants.

(And it wants forever, so.)

And this is apparently who Eddie is, now, what he’s be reshaped into for the love of Steve Harrington. And fuck, but he wouldn’t trade it; wouldn’t change it for anything.

His pulse does an extra little tumble when he unfolds the note waiting for him in the fold of the box:

you are what my heart is for

for always, if you’ll have me

~S <3 <3

He doesn’t fight the way his face stretches into a smile, so soft and just, just…so in love, right, and he laughs with the size of the warmth flooding him when he opens the box to see his favorite donuts—Boston Cream and chocolate glazed—nestled alongside enough varieties of the flakiest, butteriest croissants to feed a small army. He shakes his head and checks the clock: not too late for a coffee, so he goes to the machine and—

Finds it all set up, ready to brew. Cup set next to it and everything, complete with a post-it with another <3 scrawled in the middle, stuck to the handle.

Eddie cannot fight the way his eyes prickle as he switches the machine on and takes the note from the mug, holds it to his chest like it’s precious.

Because it is precious. This feeling, this…this this, is so fucking precious he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t know how he found something this profound, this invaluable and dear to its core, to his core, he’s, he just…

If his fucking coffee gets a couple tears in it, he figures that’s just, like, the taste of true fucking love, so he’s actually really goddamn grateful for it.

Maybe it makes him heartsick a little, for how much it already feels like his home is empty without Steve, just for a few hours now, but…he thinks maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be, how he’s supposed to feel.

He…he’s not going to willingly sign up for this feeling way again, though. He’s gonna get over his bullshit and give in to what it feels like to love this big and complete, fuck his discomfort and his hangups, he’s never letting his world feel this dull and bereft again if he can fucking help it.

Maybe he googles tuxedos, then…maybe he googles ‘what do men wear to the red carpet’ because maybe it’s just really nice tailored suits, he doesn’t fucking know, he just knows he’s going to fucking get one, he’s going to buy it himself and have it ready for the next time Steve asks him to come with him, so he can show his Stevie that he’s in this in every way, no caveats, no heartbreak, even the little temporary going-to-work kind.

Then he looks at the clock, bites at his lip, and decides no, it’s not took early to search for the most unhinged network to have started their coverage of the premiere.

Because seriously. He was always gonna fucking watch his boyfriend be amazing, and beautiful, and just…

Everything.

—

Eddie nearly drops his pain au chocolat when he sees Steve’s perfectly swooped hair peek on-screen in the so-far-kinda-interminable premiere coverage. Like…Eddie knows he’s watching with a deeply single-minded goal, but seriously.

How are these other people taking up time that could just be Steve, instead?

Insanity.

“Steven,” the interviewer greets him in that over-friendly way the press has with celebrities, that Eddie always thought was weird as fuck because it’s not like those vultures were the famous people’s friends.

“I hate to say this because it feels cliche,” the woman smiles that sort of apologetic-but-only-because-people-are-watching smile that’s fucking nauseating; “but you’re looking exceptionally striking tonight,” she nods to his outfit, and ‘striking’ is an understatement but then she once-overs him head-to-toe and…

Fuck.

Fuck, but Eddie did not anticipate the welling of��rage in his limbs, the protectiveness that surges in him laced with a potent possessiveness he should maybe be ashamed of but…no, he’s fucking not, because his Stevie isn’t a pice of meat and he’ll fucking fight anyone who treats him like a paycheck or a prize or a—

But Steve laughs, and it sounds real, so…Eddie can let it slide.

For now.

“Am I?” Steve asks, playful almost, coquettish—he’s got a handle on this, has these bastards eating out the palm of his goddamn hand and if his masterful command of the encounter from the jump, here, isn’t sexy as fuck, leads to something wholly different but just as red-hot as the protective ire in Eddie leaping through his blood all over again? Well.

Fuck him, then, because: dayum.

The interviewer laughs, comfortable, and Eddie gets the impression that maybe they’ve done this dance before; a lot of times, even. There isn’t camaraderie, there, but there’s a…collegiality.

Eddie will table his desire to key the interviewer’s car and…stuff.

For now.

“Is it weird to tell you you’re glowing?”

Steve does what Eddie imagines is the movie star equivalent of the snort that he lets loose so often, so freely, so unguarded in Eddie’s home, next to Eddie and it’s like his smiles that don’t reach his eyes versus the ones that do.

And Eddie’s fucking floored all over again at what a privilege it is, what a gift he’s living, to know the difference. To be able to hold the difference close.

“Maybe,” Steve huffs across the feed, and Eddie watches the little expressive quirks run across his face, framing that blinding smile because fuck, the man is kinda radiant, but then: Eddie knows for a fact that Steve is radiant always, so it’s not a surprise this lady’s pointing it out.

S’just obvious.

“But I don’t mind at all,” Steve adds as the interviewer ducks her head a bit, a little reticent all of a sudden though Eddie can’t tell how much of it’s an act, if it even matters: because Steve’s a master at reading people, at getting the body language and subtler cues just right—the number of times already that he’s picked up something’s off, from a frustrating work call to a headache from a coming storm, before Eddie even processes it for himself is unreal—but Steve always notices, so he leans in kind of conspiratorially as he grins, and invites her to share the energy:

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” and he winks, and she chuckles, and Eddie…

Eddie cannot help but imagine what it could be like to stand next to him. To brush his arm against Steve’s arm as he works the line of cameras. To smile at this woman and all these bloodsuckers and just…watch as they fawn over the man he loves, who loves him and who will go home with Eddie, and trust Eddie with all the intricacies of him that the world isn’t privy to, and Eddie could watch them fall over themselves and just…just know.

He wants that. He wants that…so much.

“Such a compliment,” the interviewer confirms enthusiastically, then tilts her head, her demeanor shifting ever-so-slightly:

“Anything different to credit as the cause? New skin routine?” she asks too innocent, and Eddie’s struck that this must be how the game is played, asking questions without asking the question.

He doesn’t think he could manage that. He’s in awe of Steve all over again if this is what’s demanded of him as a rule, on the regular.

Then he’s in awe of Steve—all over again, again—when Steve’s features soften and then, for the most blink-and-you’ll-miss-it second, Eddie sees the version of Steve that sits next to him on the couch, that strokes Eddie’s hair, that touches him gentle and reverent somehow, that shares his bed.

It’s gone in a second but, the idea that there’s feeling there that, knowing what to look for and how to recognize the known quantity, can leak into the careful public display that Steve allows the world to have of him?

It’s…it’s a heady, powerful thing. It’s fucking intoxicating to witness.

And then the man he loves speaks:

“I don’t think there’s a product money can buy that makes you glow from the inside,” and he sounds so tender, so genuine and fucking, like, just, luminescent with feeling and Eddie…Eddie cannot handle it.

Eddie needs him so much. Needs to reach for him. Needs to hold him. Needs to hold him to his chest and try to fit him inside, needs to make himself small in Steve’s arms to try and fit inside his chest and make a home there forever, he needs—

“Oh,” the interviewer is fucking, like, cooing; “oh, Steven,” and Eddie’s mouth twists instinctually because…okay. Okay, Eddie gets why Steve uses another version of his name for the masses and Eddie thinks he’s only going to use it for really really serious things, if only just to try and salvage the way he suspects this woman isn’t the first, or the worst, to simper around it like it has something to give, rather than exists as something to like…adulate.

Actively.

“You have to know that now I’m obligated to—” she says the words like she knows she’s required to, and maybe, maybe feels some degree of apology for prodding but…not nearly enough degrees.

Not even close.

But Steve just laughs, cuts into her words:

“Of course I knew,” he waves her prevaricating off with such a deft fucking hand, so hot; “I was counting on it.”

And he sounds sly, not quite like he’d played her but not exactly not, like he was pulling the strings all along and she moved exactly where he’d planned for her to.

More…just more sexy. And Eddie’s just really grateful he’s wearing sweats right now and there’s no one to judge him, basically.

“It’s not something I want to hide,” Steve’s saying all soft again, but burning like candlelight and Eddie melts for it accordingly because Jesus fucking Christ: “but you’re only getting the broad strokes, yeah?”

“Broad strokes, excellent,” the interviewer says, nodding like a bobblehead; “that is perfect,” and she’s clearly excited, and Eddie obviously knew Steve was private where he could be but to get this kind of reaction at the admittedly bare-bones he’s laying out as being willing to share?

It has to…mean something big. Has to be a little unprecedented. Maybe Eddie’s heart’s bouncing in his chest, pin-balling against his ribs more than a little for all the implications in it.

Heady, like he said: and then some.

“I met someone,” and Eddie, like: okay.

Okay, he probably could have guessed that’s where it was going via context clues, like, Steve was talking about something personal. Entertainment “journalism” was always rooted in who was fucking who, and…well.

Steve’s fucking Eddie, so, yeah. Context clues.

But tell that to the way Eddie’s heart damn well stops still, freezing all it’s chaotic momentum in his chest in a fucking second once he realizes what’s happening. What is…

Happening, on cable fucking television. On Al Gore’s internet. Fucking…live.

In front of millions. For posterity.

(If Eddie still trusted himself to follow such things—which for the record, after the no-Steve-in-your-contacts disaster, he absolutely does not, okay?—but if he did, he can only begin to imagine the extent of the gifsets, because Eddie found fuckton of a lot of them for the actor-who-he-definitely-didn’t-think-was-his-Steve, and he always did have a pretty good eye for the kinds of events that a fanbase would eat up and make like five-hundred-thousand versions of the same 10 seconds from, and now-definitely-his-Steve is offering a goldmine here, but—)

But see, even if Eddie trusted himself with that sort of thing still, he couldn’t care about it right now, and that would be because his heart’s still decidedly in limbo, twitching maybe with disbelief, with overwhelm, with the gravity of what’s happening because Steve is, Steve is—

About him and—

“I’m with someone.”

And Steve says it with so much feeling, so much…delight and wonder at the fact of it, the mere prospect of it, that it makes sense that the full weight of it hits Eddie as his heart feels like it gasps for air after being held under water, holding so much more inside it in his moment than Eddie thinks, no: so much more than Eddie knows he’s ever felt before and that’s why the way his heart jumps back to beating again is a whole ass the earth-shattering production, because the force of it could crack his ribs or quake the ground beneath him, definitely rocks him where he sits and shakes through his bones because it’s such a, like, volumetric force that cascades through him, that feels like expanding with the breadth of all things and then slamming closed to expel them into the universe to be caught and held by the only person, the only heart and soul that you want, that you need to have your everything—

“I found this incredible human who is,” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie’s hyper-saturated heart probably shouldn’t be able to beat faster when it’s beating with this kind of unprecedented force but it does, somehow, it can because Eddie is that far in love and maybe that transcends all the probablys in the whole fucking world.

“Like, this is amazing,” Steve pivots, gestures at the spectacle around them; “and it’s a privilege, and you know how much I appreciate it, how grateful I am and how much I would never dare to even think about taking any of it as a given.”

“You’ve always been,” the interviewer considers for a second before deciding on her words, and delivering them wholly-honest, and Eddie tries his damnedest to process what she says over the deafening rush of his blood in his ears: “probably the most gracious of your colleagues that I’ve had the pleasure to speak with,” and she shoots him a little grin as she adds:

“Humble, really, which has never failed to be impressive.”

And Eddie feels this…tingling warmth come over him, bubbly and magical like champagne looks in a sunset: he’s so proud, and he’s so…fucking lucky that this man wants him, that this man loves him, that this man lets Eddie love him back, and is willing to…tell the whole goddamn world.

“That is so sad,” Steve grimaces at being called out for being decent as something other than a bare minimum, which Eddie gets but he also knows for a fact that Steve is so much more than decent, and he deserves to be celebrated for it whether or not his own coworkers fucking suck.

Eddie’s gonna make a point to celebrate him. For all that he is and all that he does, for how he is exceptional in all the ways.

Always.

“But, like, you’ve seen that,” Steve gets back to his point, and perks up, goes back to the blinding brightness that pulls Eddie’s heart wide to do the thing where it’s trying to defy physics, to pump the whole unfathomable depth of this feeling; “so you know what it means when I tell you I met someone who blows all of this out of the water. Who puts everything this town, this industry,” he glances around himself again, takes everything in in this encompassing way then shakes his head and grins so true:

“Everything this job has to offer, even at its very best? This person puts all of it to absolute shame.”

And the interviewer is just staring at him, holding her microphone, looking a little dumbfounded, definitely surprised—Eddie knows Steve doesn’t date much, hasn’t been attached to someone romantically for years since a very high profile breakup with the lead from the those 80s-throwback monster movies that Eddie refuses to name, out of solidarity with the man he’s gonna spend the rest of his life with. But the red carpet lady’s thrown for a loop, maybe largely by the subject itself, but maybe likewise by the feeling Steve’s infusing every word with. Unabashed and brilliant.

“They’re so much…more, than all of this, any of this, that I don’t know the word to describe it,” Steve laughs lightly to himself for a second then tacks on:

“If a word for this even exists.”

The interviewer seems to shake herself out of her baffled kind of stupor to nod a little, smile a little—not reluctant, but more kinda…confused.

“Sounds special,” she says, and it’s like she does mean it, but then she adds; “almost like a fairytale.”

And Eddie doesn’t think it’s just his own insecurities—difficult to hold on to in the waves of what his pulse is doing, how his entire body is reacting to Steve’s every word, to the undeniable revelation of just what lives in Steve’s heart in detail, public now and proud of it, kind of fucking unequivocal—but Eddie doesn’t think it’d just be him who picks up the unspoken implication there:

Almost too good to be true..

“I mean every word,” Steve doesn’t even pause to consider that implication, fucking unfathomable saint of a man that he is; “and I am so grateful, I don’t take a breath spent with them for granted,” and fuck if Eddie’s eyes don’t sting because yeah, he kinda already knew that, and sure he feels exactly the same but…

Fuck if hearing it out loud isn’t something else.

“But I found someone who enjoys my company, like, seriously and genuinely enjoys my company, and doesn’t mind at all that I am kind of obsessed with them and want to be with them always,” and if Eddie mouths at the screen same, Stevie-baby, exactly the same with his heart in his throat, no one could even blame him, and he wouldn’t give a shit if they tried; “someone who supports the fuck out of me, who laughs with me, who lets me be stupid and filled with, like,” and Steve grins so big then and chuckles a little buoyant and it’s clear the interviewer is taken aback, had never seen Steve the way Eddie always sees Steve—

“Just, silly joy at the most random stuff,” and Steve’s gaze goes a little distant, a little starry, and Eddie wonders what he’s thinking about, which stupid thing they’ve giggled over’s filled his head just now and Eddie’s chest hurts for how much he wants to reach out and trace those features, wants to kiss the little space between those brows and feel those impossible lashes brush his skin because he leans so close, because he can be that close.

“Someone who takes me out, cooks me dinner, writes me songs, treats me randomly for no reason like I just deserve it as a matter of course,” because of course that should be the standard with Steve and fuck everyone who came before and failed to understand that; there won’t be anyone to come after, though, not if Eddie has anything to say about it: and he’s never going to forget what it means to treat Steve Harrington exactly how he deserves.

“And they let me do the same,“ and Steve sounds so grateful for the give-and-take of them, the way they meet and match, and Eddie just…he wants Stevie next to him right now, and he really and truly knows that after he kisses Steve senseless and they fuck about how much they love each other?

He’s going to promise this man every movie release and awards show and random event he wants for the rest of their lives, if he’ll let Eddie have the honor.

“Doesn’t turn it into like a competition on either side, either, it’s just us both doing what we want to do most in the moment, any given day,” and Eddie is struck all over again at how little time it took, especially given Eddie’s laundry list of hangups, for them both to sink into an established status quo of…not a millionaire and his management-grunt sidepiece, or some fucked up accidental sugar baby, but two men who just…love. As a rule. And show it.

Eddie…kinda didn’t process just how much that was, is, until it’s spelled out: never a competition. Eddie never feels bought when Steve sends him his now-routine gifts whenever he’s away. Steve never makes Eddie feels silly when Eddie makes a point to bring him breakfast in bed just because; kinda makes him feel the opposite, makes him feel like a fucking superhero or something, because they’re just—

“Cherishing each other,” Steve continues, and that’s…that’s it, that’s exactly it; “celebrating, y’know, what it means to feel this way.”

And Steve pauses, a soft smile less curling his lips than suffusing his whole body, softening his features and making him so much like a sun, a brighter star than the event can stand and Eddie’d called it: the world can’t handle that shine all the time. Steve can’t smile with his mouth and his heart and the full force of his everything, lest lesser mortals fall in the face of the magnificence of it.

But then he starts speaking again, and Eddie…Eddie, for his part, maybe falls in a wholly different way:

“I found somebody I want to see tomorrow with, but all of them. All the tomorrows, y’know? Somebody who wants to make my coffee in the morning, just so we can watch the sunrise,” and Eddie sees it as it happens on the little balcony he has, where he’s actually started using the chairs that were mostly for show before but now, now he sits with Steve, and they drink coffee and wake up slow and it’s…it’s perfection and Eddie aches at how much he’s in love with it, in love with Steve and what they have, what they’re making and building and keeping together and—

“Knows just how I like it,” and Eddie does, he makes sure Steve’s coffee has just the right amount of milk, is the perfect temperature—it’s muscle memory now: the knowledge of Steve held sacred in Eddie’s head as much as in his heart; “lets me hold their hand, play with their,” and Steve’s fingers twirl a little and Eddie knows: lets him play with Eddie’s hair, because fuck if they don’t both love that so fucking hard and maybe Eddie reaches for a curl and it’s nothing like having Steve play with it but it’s…it’s something.

“Never waited to call, because why wait,” he says wryly, and Eddie chokes on something between a cackle and a sob because Eddie had feared so hard that he’d lost this, but in truth?

He’d had no idea what he was losing, what he’d have gone without, even when he knew deep down he was maybe losing everything.

So yeah: he hadn’t fucking wasted any time that second go-around.

“Why play games when you can, when,” and Steve stops himself, shakes his head ruefully before thinking better of giving more than he wants to the people watching; “and now we, we’re like,” and this time when he trials off he just kinda sits with it, stares off camera kinda unfocused for a second, but looking so content.

Eddie loves him so goddamn much.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, but not in a way that minimizes any of what he’s said, or any of the feeling behind it; “sorry if it disappoints your viewers,” but Steve doesn’t sound one bit sorry, he sounds sly almost and then:

“But I’m not sorry at all that I found them, this,” and Steve smiles to himself, private-like again when he stumbles upon a reason to underscore the the reality that it’s:

“Us.”

Together. Inseparable. A single entity made of equals given wholly to what it means to love, like this.

Fucking magical, is what it is.

By this point, the interviewer looks a little dewy-eyed herself, and her smile really does read as honest. Like she’s…no one could be as happy as Eddie is, in this. And Steve’s feelings seem…comparable, against all odds but undeniable, though Eddie doesn’t think anyone could be quite as overjoyed by where he’s ended up, and with who.

Like: even if Steve were inexpressibly thrilled about it, and he may well be, the look on his face isn’t vague, but then Eddie…well, he’d just have to be so inconceivably giddy it topples empires; parts seas.

“You’ll head home to them?” the woman asks, and oh.

Oh.

Steve’s smile at that…it reaches his eyes.

“Long as I didn’t piss ‘em off too much, with what I’ve said,” and Eddie absolutely does laugh through the heaving sobs of the sort he’s not sure he’s ever experienced before: like the sheer magnitude of feeling in him just has no option but to crest and burst out of him the only way it can, as he giggles at the absolute absurdity of this man, this man, as if Eddie isn’t tempted to sleep in front of the fucking door for however many days between now and Steve coming home—home—so he can leap into those arms and cling and promise him forever, forever, forever in no uncertain terms, making concrete and certain all that they’ve implied in every possible way to now.

“They value their privacy,” Steve sobers a little, serious with it and Eddie loves him, he loves him and he loves so much more and bigger than privacy, than whatever fear lives and breathes in him: it’s nothing compared to the fact of Steve.

“Our privacy.”

“You were impressively discreet, even by your own standards,” the woman reassures him, as if it’s a question, as if Eddie could ever be pissed at Steve for the fucking declarations he’s given, for the care he’s infused in the delivery, just…Steve.

“Even I don’t think I could track this person down,” the lady tacks on and Steve chuckles at that.

“That’s pretty good, then,” he compliments lightly, like maybe he appreciates her actual journalistic skills in a sea of stolen photos and who-wore-it-best.

“Congratulations, Steven,” the woman leans in and seems to think twice before patting his shoulder or something, but definitely looks like she wants to. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve tells her then glances over his shoulder, catches something out of sight and waves before smiling not-quite-apologetically. “Looks like I’m needed elsewhere.”

And then Steve’s off and Eddie…

Eddie starts searching for someone who’s better at technology that he is, and has saved the interview start to finish, so he can watch it again.

💛💛💛

on to THE CONCLUSION // part ten >>>

✨or✨

<<< back to the obligatory insecurity // part eight

for @pearynice 🖤

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divider credit here

[uriekukistan]

i wanna talk about this thing gege said

i’ve seen a lot of people saying that this is a bad way to write a story, and i couldnt disagree more. from a writer’s perspective, there is no reason to kill off a character if it’s not going to have impact.

in any case, i think this reaction points out two things i’ve noticed about the jjk fandom.

i. jjk fans prioritize enjoyment of characters over the plot

which is fine, i guess. i’m not gonna begrudge any readers the space to enjoy their fav characters. however, what i disagree with is the constant trashing of gege and jjk as a story because the narrative doesnt treat the characters as you want it to.

i mostly talk about these things from the perspective of someone who has been writing for a while, so i will take a second to acknowledge from the reader perspective. it’s easy to get attached to characters and see them as real people in your life.

but they arent real people. they only exist for the author’s intentions. every time i see someone complain that “x character only died because plot” i just think “yes?” characters exist for the plot. they exist to serve the narrative. they live and die for the plot, and that isn’t a bad thing. this is a story. that is how stories work.

with characters like gojo or choso, it’s easy to look back and see their character arcs and how their ends fit their purpose in the story, but i think people get so caught up in wanting to fuck the character, or fanon, that they forget their original purpose is to do what gege wants them to do.

this is a war against the most powerful, most evil sorcerer in history. of course characters are going to die, and of course it’s going to be characters we love. it’s honestly unrealistic to expect anything else.

and i think it’s really disrespectful to say so many rude things to gege because he is thinking about the story he wants to tell, and not the story that best suits your favorite character.

ii. few people want to feel anything from what they’re reading anymore

which again, is totally fine, but maybe read something else?

tragic stories have existed and enjoyed immense popularity for millennia. and theres nothing wrong with that. there’s nothing wrong with authors intentionally stirring up their readers’ emotions.

i wanna bring attention to the origins of the words “tragedy” and “catharsis”

“tragedy” is a genre that stems from greek drama based on human suffering and the terrible or sorrowful events that befall the main character. the intention of of tragedy is to invoke “catharsis”

“catharsis” is commonly used to refer to the purification of thoughts and emotions by way of expressing them. in terms of tragedy, this refers to arousing a negative emotion with the intention of expelling it so the audience can walk away feeling relieved.

for all intents and purposes, jjk is a tragedy. it’s meant to make you feel sad. that’s gege’s intention. yet every time people feel upset by a specific event, they call “bad writing.” if anything, according to what jjk is, it’s good writing if you feel sad.

i have seen some people say that jjk wasn’t set up this way, and i disagree so strongly that it’s hard to comprehend.

jjk0 ends with gojo having to kill his best friend, his one and only. tragedy. yuuta’s story is tragic too, having cursed rika and accidentally isolated himself just because he didn’t want her to die.

jjk starts with yuuji faced with execution just because because he wanted to honor his grandfather’s dying wishes. within a handful of chapters, there’s yuuji’s “death” and junpei, and there’s a clear set up of tragedy and repeated loss, despite characters giving their best effort.

i could get into how this relates to my interpretation of the themes of jjk, and sharing burden/responsibility to be stronger together, but that’s another point.

tldr; the point of this post is to say that gege killing characters and making readers feel sad is not bad writing or a bad narrative choice. it’s true to his intentions and the essence of jjk. if you don’t like that, then don’t read. but there’s no reason to disrespect gege and his hard work just because it’s not your cup of tea

[theglamorousferal]

Tony keeps in touch with Harley post IM3.

Tony hacks into Harley's school to see what his grades are and it not clocking that he could literally just ask about it.

Tony keeping up with the Keener’s via twice monthly phone calls that turn into weekly ones that turn into Tony and Mrs. Keener texting back and forth.

Tony invites the kid to visit during a school break where they both just tinker with things. Harley is nervous at first until they meet up again and they start snarking back and forth.

At least one minor fire or explosion happens. If asked, neither know what started it. (Tony was wiring a gauntlet and Harley jokingly called him Dad when Tony told him he had to do his homework.)

The Keener’s visit for a week in the summertime, Tony has bought the lake house earlier to have a place away from people. Mrs. Keener and Pepper get along pretty well and both the kids like Pepper, so Tony counts it as a win.

Tony offers to pay for Harley and his sister's education and Mrs. Keener took him up on it because there was no way she’d be able to afford to send both her kids to college unless one of them got a free ride and Tony shows he cares by spending money and making sure those he cares about are safe and comfortable.

Harley spends the summer before his freshman year of high school with Tony. Tony finds a used classic car and they spend the summer rebuilding it and upgrading the engine to run clean.

Tony finds Spider-Man and finds out he’s a year older than Harley. Tony panics because here’s another kid genius but this one's in way over his head and will stay in over his head regardless of if he has support or proper equipment. Tony decides that no one else is gonna help this kid and give him as much protection as he could if he built him a suit, so he does just that.

Tony finds out about Midtown through Peter and approaches Mrs. Keener with an opportunity for Harley. (It's a genius school and it's practically a feeder to MIT, it'll be great.) Harley moves into the tower that Tony has kept here because he has reason to stay in the city.

Tony is a lot better at dealing with a kid because he's been hanging out with Harley so long, so he invites Peter over to meet Harley and have lab time. 

Harley just quips “so you’re my replacement?” to Peter and Peter immediately panicking and stuttering over himself while Harley howls with laughter.

Harley helps Peter learn to be more comfortable around Tony by roasting Tony for twenty straight minutes and after a month of lab days enlists Peter's help in making a program for FRIDAY to blast Barbie Girl when Tony has spent 24 hours or more in the lab.

Peter asks Harley to hang out with Ned outside of lab days. The three of them end up building a LEGO Deathstar and have drawn up the plans to be able to make it hover the next lab day.

Peter and Harley become thick as thieves and get to the point of that weird twin telepathy especially when it comes to being sassy.

One school break the three of them didn't go outside for the first four days, just spending most of the time in the lab so Pepper comes in and orders them to go outside for once my god Tony. Take them to your favorite burger place, I don't care, just be outside.

This leads to the three of them getting Pap'd. ("Yeah, I was out to lunch with my two interns, what's the matter with that?" is the quote above a picture of him laughing as the two boys pretend their straw wrappers are mustaches.)

This leads Tony to realize that he hadn't actually gotten the boys registered as his interns and remedies this immediately. (with backpay into a trust for each of them(Harley already gets an allowance, Tony has no idea how much is the proper amount to give to a 14 year old, and so usually gives him a few of whatever bills are in his wallet.))

Tony decides that now that they're officially employees of SI, that means they get to check out the place and so brings them down to R&D where everybody is immediately charmed by Peter and amused by Harley. The boys end up talking to the interns on the floor while Tony discusses the latest StarkPad.

One lab day both Harley and Peter look exhausted but Peter still showed up for lab time so they make their way there. Tony takes one look at them and asks FRIDAY to scan them, they both have fevers and he herds them into his living room.

Tony orders all the cold remedies he can think of to be brought up to the penthouse. Tony instructs the boys to pick a movie while he gathers blankets and dumps them on the boys.

Tony frantically texting Harley's mom and May asking them what he should do I've never taken care of a sick kid before, there are two of them, what do I do??

May asks Tony if Peter can stay the night because she's working a double that she can't get out of. He says yes if she can tell him what to do for sick kids because Harley's mom hasn't been able to respond.

Tony ends up joining the boys on the couch after forcing each of them to take cold medicine and thrusting a bowl of chicken noodle soup into each of their hands. Tony's in between the boys.

Over the course of WALL-E each boy begins to sag eventually trapping Tony on the couch. He's got one drooling in his shoulder and another drooling on his thigh. He asks FRIDAY to take several pictures before going back to his work on his StarkPad.

This starts Peter staying over whenever May is working night shifts. Then staying over every other weekend. Then Tony invites May and Peter to go on vacation to the lake house for a few days in the summer.

The Keener family is also present and May, Pepper and Mrs. Keener get on like a house on fire. Peter loves playing with Abbie with Harley. Three group chats are made that day. The adults in a co-parenting chat, the ladies in an exasperated with our geniuses chat and the kids in a sass and meme chat.

Just, Tony becomes a dad to two brilliant boys (and maybe one of the boy's baby sisters too depending how you want to write her).

[mamirhodessxox]

One request. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Angry black suit cody. 😍😍😍

That's all.🙃🙃🙃

Ask and you shall recieve shnookum 🤓☝️

Settle Down

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody fires himself up during his Monday Night Raw promo which results into Y/N having to help calm him down backstage.

Contents: Fluff, Cussing, Y/N being a sweetie, angry cody 🤗‼️ (No smut in this one since next oneshot will include smut)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“The Rock, took to instagram last week following up with a very entertaining rock concert, too bad he didn’t wanna be here tonight..” the crowd booed “Rock referred to himself as our favorite heel..?” Cody’s voice echoed throughout the arena talking & saying “The nature boy rick flair was a heel. Rock..I don’t think you’re a heel I think you’re an asshole..” Cody scowled directly into the Camera while standing inside the ring as if you two were making eye contact despite the fact you were backstage watching this all go down on the tv that laid against the wall of his dressing room.

“Haven’t you been crying behind the scenes this whole time? I mean once that hashtag came out once they started chanting something else, you went and CRIED to your buddies on the TKO board ‘HEY HEY! This is gonna be some good pr for the rock I need to save wwe’ god knows look at thise house we sure needed saving right?! He said it’s gonna be this great pr for the rock until it wasn’t..” Cody ranted while circling around staring directly at the live camera & you immediately noticed that he was beginning to fire himself up the more he spoke.

“Rock, the TKO folks said to you oh my gosh yes rock yes put on your gucci shirt your muscles will look so big YES YES YES YES! The reason they said it is because they are YES people they are enablers they don’t tell you like it is, so I’m going to.” Cody scoffed as he went on another tangent on how he could admit many things on the Rock but then he pissed himself off so much to the point where he started becoming more verbally agressive “Rock you are also a terrible Salesman a carny succubus and for those who don’t know what that means..Your a whiney BITCH.” He snapped.

Y/N sat in the dressing room staring directly into the fury of his eyes right through the television screen, all this talk about the rock had genuinely started becoming angering to him & bothersome that he somehow managed to upset himself the more he spoke. “You haven’t been in the ring in real time action in YEARS! And April 6th the BELL is gonna ring! What happens rock when it rings? Are you gonna have all that Big Dwayne Energy or LDS?! Little. DICK. Syndrome!” He shouted while all of the fans within the arena started Chanting, Cheering, Shouting waving around their signs while even the announcers chuckled to themselves.

For the rest of his promo he continued ranting, shouting & even going as far as making a sudden deal with The Wiseman Paul Heyman, threatening to pull a Homelander & rip out his throat if he didn’t get to the point which left Paul a little shocked. Once his promo for the night was finished You immediately left the dressing room just as he rushed his way backstage huffing and puffing mumbling with Jey & then approaching you hut you held up your hands that lightly knocked against his chest about to speak but you shook your head

“Cody I can tell you’re pissed off, You upset your own self just by talking about Dwayne alone & before You do anything like take off the suit, get comfortable, go to the bus I need you to grab some water & take a breath.” You spoke softly as you noticed his hands were shaking in irritation and inner rage before he took a deep breath & exhaled while nodding.

“Good. Now let’s get you out of that suit & into the bus before Pharaoh looses his mind..” you pat his shoulder while you two went to the dressing room. You helped him get undressed and for a moment he just legit stood there with boxers on ranting his heart out “Had the nerve on him to mention MY mother y/n and complain about me shedding ONE tear ONE SINGULAR TEAR but this entire time he’s bitching and WHINING to TKO” he started shouting a bit while you folded his suit & packed it away. You turned around & started shushing him softly and pat his chest “Baby your yelling, Settle down okay? I know your pissed hell I would be do if someone talked about my parents like that. But I need you to lower your voice, your throats gonna go raw. Like Monday.”

Cody chuckled at the corny joke you had made to help cheer him up while pulling him into a warm hug as you practiced deep breathes with him “Thank you sweetheart I don’t know what i’d do without you.” You smiled shrugging “I don’t know either.” He snorted and pressed a kiss against your lips “alright now pipe down a bit.” You laughed before giving him one more kiss.

Cody was not an easily angered man, until things like his parents or loved ones getting mentioned but when he had You around? He was going to go a long way when you knew how to calm down in the right ways.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[cr33pz-mck3nna]

heyy, i'm glad the poly carnival post s doing so well!! i'm a sucker for them, so i'm back here to ask for them x reader again but this time having a date at a carnival!:3 hope you're having a good day!

Date Headcanons with the Carnival trio

At the fair!

Warnings: Not many this time(except the possible some mentions of blood and death bcs it's creepypasta so-) bcs it's fluff!, Jack being a tsundere bitch-

Ft: Our favorites! My versions of Jason, Jack and Candy!

I was listening to this and this while writing!

Jason the Toymaker

The ringmaster!

• You two had met at the carnival so of course he loves to take you back there! Most of the time Jason cannot leave the carnival, too busy keeping up the performance, so if you decide to show up or go to another carnival on his night off than best bet that all his attention, when he can be with you, is on you

• Jason has always looked so much like a human so it's easy for him to blend in with them if you go to any old carnival

• You had been walking through the crps carnival with your friends when you saw a very interesting man dressed in a casual suit, or as casual as a suit could be- It was the hair that had first caught your attention, a brighter red than the lights, and in your words he was "Fucking awesome!", words he obviously heard, oh he loves remembering your face when it was time for the tent show and the lights cued on him in the center of the rings

• You brought something too heavy? Don't worry, it's nothing to him! You didn't bring money? Really don't worry because oh BOY this man is filthy rich- Absolutely anything you want to do, see or eat, it's always paid for!(and they said chivalry is dead! guess you just needed a serial killer-/j)

• He will never admit it but the rides scare him, they're still his favorite part though because he loves watching you and your divine smile as you have fun, he will hold anything you have on you and encourage you to go have fun

• He doesn't usually eat human food but he makes an exception for carnival food, and I hope you do too because nothing will be a better date experience than devouring half the carnival with him

• And now that the sun has gone down it's time for his favorite part of bringing you here for dates, your hair flowing softly in the cool night wind and the lights shining so perfectly on your face, this is perfection to him, this is the closest he will get to seeing heaven

"You look so perfect under the lights my dearest..please, stay like that for a moment, let me burn this moment into my brain enough that I may keep you with me on the many nights we stay apart.."

Laughing Jack

The Clown

• WHAT IN THE WORLD IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!? Is exactly the thoughts Jack has about you. He is in no way even slightly like a human, usually when his clown act with the others comes out that's the point when the audience starts to get scared, but you...you thought he was hot!? Like actually what is wrong with you!? He just had to know more!

• He doesn't usually leave the carnival, the many nights away from you always nags at him, so whenever you decide to show up to surprise him OH BOY you're gonna have ADHD Jack on your hands- If there was ever a time when Jack was the most like he used to be before Isaac it was whenever you surprised him

• He is immediately pulling you to all the different rides, he's very out of character for himself, usually being a short tempered snarky prick and a MASSIVE tsundere(we shamelessly call out the tsundere, worse than mammon* istg-), but you're truly seeing a glimpse of who he is or more appropriately who he was. He is flying for the haunted house every time, if someone's around he'll still by force of habit act uninterested but when they leave he's straight on to ranting about how they still couldn't get it right and it's not scary enough.

• Expect him to be the best person ever at finding the best places to eat, he's been there so long he's bound to have eaten everything atleast twice, he's a MASSIVE sweet tooth but he also can't help himself when it comes to pizza, something about the soft yet crunchy dough, the rich cheese and the slightly sweet sauce, it's almost as good as candy!

• If you see a prize or item somewhere and so much as give the hint that you might want it, like it, hell even just see it, and Jack will take it upon himself as a personal mission to win/buy that thing for you, you're not going anywhere until he does-

• It's late so he takes you to the carousel, as you spin around on it, the lights and people slowly flashing by, you're falling asleep on him and he smiles

"Did you have fun sweetheart? Good. No, we don't have to get up just yet, rest your head, we have all night."

Candy Pop

The Magician

• Anyone who sees him would assume he's part of the creepy clown act, but no, this brightly colored dream demon is the most skilled in his tricks, magic or not, and you thought his act was the coolest

• Candy loves when you come out to visit, he can't take you places like a normal person would, like he wishes he could, but when you show up at the carnival he makes sure to make it the best time you've ever had!

• Anything you wish to eat? Here you go he already had it! You enjoyed a particular part of the show? Let's go meet the performers in person! Everyone likes Candy so it's pretty much set that everyone likes you too.

• Candy is always performing, he barely knows how to stop performing, it's all he's ever done, but you...you make him feel like a normal person who doesn't have to constantly perform, you make him feel human and he'll always love you for that

• You drag him on to a ride or two, buy about 20 different kinds of food, and unlike the other two he's fine with or without the rides and food, you're all he needs, if you want to do something then so does he, if you don't like something then neither does he even if he loved that thing prior to meeting you

• He's always fidgeting with his playing cards, spinning them in one hand as you drag him around by the other. When you're there he performs like he never has before, great feats of magic all for you, ginormous bubbles, a fake elephant, houdini tricks, you name it and he's doing it to show off

• By the time night fell you're in his personal tent, unwinding and chatting over a cup of cocoa

"Well that was an excellent day! Possibly the most thrilling I've had! But I guess that's how every day with you is gumdrop~"

OMG I STARTED WRITING THIS YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, LOST THE ENTIRE JASON SEGMENT, HAD TO REWRITE IT LAST NIGHT ALONGSIDE JACK'S PART AND THEN JUST GOT WOKEN UP BY MY MOTHER BLASTING CHRISTMAS MUSIC IN MY FACE AND WROTE CANDY'S PART- I go all out on these requests man, speaking of requests WELCOME BACK ANON! You've requested so much I shall now call you "🤡 anon", you've earned a special anon name! Have a lovely day my little gremlins! -Creepz

@sketchist-art

(I'm tagging you sketchist bcs ur bbgs have returned for another fic and you were probably gonna read this eventually so imma just start tagging u on carnival trio posts- XD)

*shameless obey me reference-

[fuck-customers]

Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

[christabelq]

Hot on the heels of my Halloween cosplay post, here's another of my recent Harley Quinn pics 📷 This one's called ♦️♦️SHE AIMS TO TEASE♦️♦️ Its one of my faves, though as you can see, some of the fake tattoos on my thighs were starting to come off by this point. I was a tad peeved about this tbh 🙄 I didn't pay much for them, but I'd have expected them to last more than a few hours. If the makers ever happen to read this, I'm giving you a big 👎. Things I like about the shot are the pose and the way it showcases my costume, which as I've said before is kind of a work in progress. I've used the gun 🔫 for a couple of other characters, but it probably suits Harley best and you're definitely seeing it from a good angle here. As for the location, I was imagining a lair somewhere. You can't really see, but along with the bat and vodka, there's some mocked up plans for a bank heist on the table. Will everyone's favorite clown girl pull the heist off? Who, knows, but anyone who tries to stop her is gonna have their work cut out 🤼‍♂️ (including that holier than thou caped crusader 🦇). Hope y'all are liking these new pics. Lots more to come.

Sayonara, Christabel ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

ko-fi.com/christabelq instagram.com/christabel.simpson/ deviantart.com/christabelq

[yandereforme]

Damian wayne? nah, Damian AL GHUL.

(in my perspective his al ghul blood is where he gets his yandare shii from cause yk..the al ghuls..it just fits right..)

(imagine if damian stayed in Nanda parbat)

so imagine damian going on an assasin mission in gotham and crosses paths with vigilante!reader(Female if possible xx) on the gotham rooftops where they get into a fight and for the first time, Damian loses, to a girl/woman and now he's obsessed interested in her, now I see him purposely taking missions that's from gotham just to see reader then just one night he plans a kidnapping, think several other assasins on standby so the kidnapping will be perfect and..idk anymore, I ran out of brain juice.(I'm gonna be honest this was my dream last night, and I woke up 💔)

ALSO IM SORRY IM JUST YAPPING I JUST WANTS TO TELL YOU THIS CAUSE MAYBE YOU CAN DO SOMETHING WITH IT CAUSE CAUSE I JUST LOVE YOUR WRITING 💔💔💔

also, me personally, Damian al ghul>damian wayne

I wanna ask without anon but I'm EMBARRASSED CAUSE IDK WHAT I TYPED SOUNDS LIKE WHEN SOMEBODY READS IT!! (and ik my grammar suckz ass cause English ain't my first language. far from that💔💔)

oh no I'm yapping again I'm so sorry

You are not a bother at all! I love this idea, and you don’t need to be embarrassed, that’s how I write most things lol.

Damian Al Ghul x Vigilante! Reader

I’m thinking he went to Gotham to scout out his father and his subordinates (they aren’t a focus in the post)

He completely forgets about them after he meets (and gets his butt kicked by you)

You are an independent vigilante, and you have always been that way. You avoid Batman and his birds, preferring to take care of things like human traffickers, muggings, abusers, etc.

That being said, you knew enough about the big stuff that the boy in ninja gear set off alarm bells. You were prepared for his attacks, and had your weapons at the ready

You were a badass, and wiped the floor with Damian, even pinning him down before other ninjas came out of the darkness, hellbent on you.

He yells at the others in Arabic and you take your chance to slip away. This was above your pay grade, and the Bat could deal with them. You needed to continue your patrol.

Damian was expecting an easy fight, but you surprised him. When you glared down at this boy, blood streaked across your face, eyes alight with hatred as you held him down, Damian fell hard.(I headcanon that Al Ghuls fall for/become yandere for strong fighters or general badasses, while Wayne’s tends to become yandere/protective over kindness/innocence due to their trauma)

Those idiots who interrupted his fight with his beloved were killed immediately, and he immediately set his sights on finding you again.

He found your vigilante work a worthy endeavor, but your civilian life was not up to par. You worked two jobs, both of which were meant to be taken on by peasants, not by important people like you. He admired and hated the fact you survived on your own, admiring your strength but despising what you had to do to survive.

This man will fight tooth and nail to get to go to Gotham at every opportunity. He prefers to watch you on patrol, and privately dispose of the simpletons you were surrounded by

After a while, when your room and all the supplies were prepared, only then did he set up your kidnapping. He approached you late at night, outside of your suit. You gave him another worthy fight, but this time he wasn’t going to let you get away, and knocked you out quickly.

When you wake, it will be to Damian sitting across from your bed, reading one of your favorite novels (he doesn’t like this kind of book, but as his beloved enjoys it, he will be learned on the subject).

Be prepared to have a life of being Damian’s Queen, Y/n Al Ghul. By the time you wake up, he will have already removed all traces of your past from the rest of the world, making sure you had nothing to go back to, if you were ever able to escape, so your best bet is to stay as his queen, and hopefully figure out a way out(you won’t escape.)

[ateez-himari]

[241113] GANGSTER OFF-DUTY

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[AM 1:09] Ice on my teeth on my, white teeth ✨ Atiny, are you ready for the comeback ? It's one of my favorite concepts

[AM 1:09] I like the pink hair too! 🩰My hair was already bleached grey for the concept photos so I figures that I might as well try another color

[AM 1:10] Omg yeah! My outfit was so cool...I felt like an actual crime boss when I put it on for the first time. I mean a lace bustier and Versace suit jacket ? Come on

[AM 1:10] I actually made the lariat necklace myself because I thought it would go well with the deep v-neckline, the rings were mostly gifts from Donatella

[AM 1:11] Ahh you guys noticed ? It's true, for the first time since our debut I'm the main producer on all tracks and I'm so glad our team trusted me so much

[AM 1:12] I know, I cried too when Sannie oppa sang 'Enough' on Leemujin Service (I went with him to the recording)

[AM 1:12] It's a very personal track because the lyrics are speaking to the version of myself that was in pain, so it's practically raw, kind of like my lines in 'Mist'

[AM 1:12] When I was recording the demo for the members, the 'God Damn' wasn't written into the song, it just came out naturally because of how I felt and I kept it in

[AM 1:13] I watched Arcane too, Yunho oppa and I binged it last night! I can't believe they let me make the song 'Paint The Town Blue' for them...

[AM 1:13] Yeah, singing in English was challenging but I think it turned out well! You can't really hear my accent that much since I practiced for a long time

[AM 1:13] You're right there's a lot of side projects that Tiny didn't know about ㅎㅎ But they'll stop for a bit, since I work in the music industry it's not always good for my hearing to be around noise constantly, so most of what's going to come out has been recorded before my hiatus

[AM 1:14] My instagram caption...? 🤔It's just a random sentence I don't know why you guys are looking into it so much

[AM 1:14] Ohhh! I didn't know that was part of G-Dragon sunbaenim's hidden tracklist now I get why everyone's been so suspicious of me lately

[AM 1:14] It would be nice to work with him...Too Bad I'm on external work break 🐉

[AM 1:15] Right now ? I was just reading a book that RM oppa sent me before I decided to talk to Tiny, then I'm making dinner for our dorm

[AM 1:16] I was originally supposed to room with Jongho oppa and Wooyoung oppa, but then they realized no one in the third dorm could cook so they moved me there

[AM 1:17] ㅎㅎI just saw someone say that they made Viktor attractive in the new season, you're right...the emo phase hit him well

[AM 1:17] Of course my boyfriend is way more attractive, there's no comparison 🤧But a girl can have her fictional crushes you know...

[AM 1:18] I'm so happy someone noticed! They put small grills on my canines because they look like little fangs, so it made them even cooler

[AM 1:18] Nuh uh I didn't steal the lip chain accessory from the MV set, I just borrowed it to take some pictures afterwards

[AM 1:18] I wasn't trying to tease you guys with it 🥺Just make a spoiler that no one would think twice about until the video came out I'M SORRYYYY

[AM 1:19] I sooo wasn't naked in that instagram post...I just wasn't wearing pants, there's a difference. But the members never wear shirts anyway!

[AM 1:19] Did my brother tell you guys to reprimand me about this ? Well for the record tell him to stop showing his tits off on my feed 🤧

[AM 1:20] Well...no I'm not wearing any pants right now...but it's my sleeping outfit! My underwear is really cute though it has a little ribbon! I got them yesterday with Mingi...Seonghwa oppa wanted to come until I told him what I was shopping for

[AM 1:20] Of course I'm not drunk! The boys talk about their underwear all the time so I'm gonna talk about mine 😤

[AM 1:20] One second, I'll show you guys where he is...I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago and found him like this, I'll have to wake him up to eat soon

[AM 1:20] Oh, this is Kyo. He's a stray I brought home not too long ago and he usually sleeps in my bed, even when Mingi's here

[AM 1:21] I didn't do much today, I just went to see a few industry friends, got some painting and sketching done...even with dance practice it's one of the most peaceful days I've had in a while

[AM 1:21] You're right, not working feels great ㅎㅎ Anyway, I need to get started on dinner now Tiny, I'll talk to you guys very soon!

[AM 1:21] I'll do my best during our promotion schedules so be ready ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

Translated from Korean by Google