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adrinktostopyourthirst · 9 months ago

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Bucky Barnes | Series | Loose

Part two of the Rebellion Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You and Bucky have no idea whether you can trust each other. There is an understanding, but you're not sure of what that understanding is and why it seems to run so deep.

Warning: Angst, violence and fluff (?)

Words: 4,1OO

It is hard enough already for Bucky to fall asleep at night. Yes, it has gotten better in recent years, but there will always be that part of him – awake and aware – that registers every sound and movement, even when he should be knocked out. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that part of him sat more alert ever since you had joined the building. Perhaps because Bucky still wasn’t so confident in your allegiance.

He can’t stop overthinking it. He has seen what you’re capable of. Would you be capable of even more if people cornered you? If you felt like you had no other choice but to manipulate and kill your way out? After all, wasn’t it possible that you felt like you had moved from one prison to the next?

You’d been a delight at dinner two nights ago, but Bucky can’t turn off his brain. This is the part that made you win people over. The way you’d gotten along with Natasha like a house on fire, the way you’d shared stories like you and his team had been friends all along… Yet you had no trouble letting a side of yours slip through the cracks that tantalised Bucky beyond belief. The way you had looked at him, teased him–

The faintest rustle has Bucky shooting back to his current place in time. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He holds his breath in an effort to hear better.

Nothing.

However, something doesn’t sit right. Something is off. He’d learned that hypervigilance was a side effect of his trauma, but he had a hard time believing his intuition would betray him like that. Not when he had relied on it so successfully for years.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he whispers to the dark ceiling.

“Yes, sergeant Barnes?”

“Is everyone in their respectable rooms?” he tries.

“I cannot divulge that information,” the voice sounds and Bucky sighs. He musters up some strength and swings off his duvet before climbing out of bed.

Yeah, he doesn’t trust you for a second.

…

Your heart is pounding in your throat. This isn’t part of your skillset – the escape and combat. Though perhaps if you do the former correctly, you won’t have to resort to the latter. Escaping the compound had been surprisingly easy, which strangely made your chest hurt. It was way too easy to escape. But it made sense. Steve had told you that you weren’t being held captive and you being here was all in good faith.

Faith you just broke by making your escape.

You probably should have been more patient. Winning their trust a bit more and then making an escape, make sure they really don’t see it coming. But the dinner had made you antsy and impatient. You had to get out.

If you’re entirely honest with yourself, you know that getting attached to a new group of people and deciding to escape then – or worse, leading them into their demise later – would be worse than getting away now that no one has attached themselves to you. Or you to them…

Breaching the edge of the surrounding forest, you finally let go of the breath you’ve been holding. You did it. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re free. No more captivity, no more expectations. All you need to do now is leave the country, change your name and possibly dye your hair. Sounds easy enough. A bit dramatic, but not impossible.

That is, until you get dragged backwards by a hand over your mouth and you lose your footing. The hard body behind you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the muddy forest grounds. Your breathing is ragged as your hands both fly to grab the forearm attached to the hand covering your yelp.

The metal forearm.

“Rule number one of making your escape: never assume you’re in the clear,” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the night air, his mouth so very close to your ear. “Shouldn’t have dropped your guard when you reached the edge of the forest.”

His gloved hand removes itself from your mouth, but you know better than to make a run for it, or to scream. He twists you by your shoulders and you muster some playful guilt to your face, masking your disappointment. Disappointment… but you feel strangely relieved. Maybe the largeness of finally being free felt somewhat overwhelming. Move to another country and change your name? It’s ridiculous. And that, when the people here have been so patient and kind to you…

You let out a soft laugh, “Worth a shot, no?”

Bucky studies you intently and something in your gut stirs at it. Not even Natasha seems to have as good of a read on you as Bucky does. It makes you feel naked. Makes you feel like all of your carefully crafted plans are flimsy and no good. Makes you feel like you have to stay far, far away from Bucky. Like you need to run. Now.

And how the hell did he manage to figure out you were making your escape?

You wait for him to tell you off, preach against your indolence and call in backup to shove you into something more similar to a prison cell. But Bucky sighs, disappointed and tired.

He seems so, so tired.

“Let’s go back inside,” he says and you furrow your brows at him.

His defeat has your chest clenching tightly. You want him to punish you, scold you. At least show that he cares. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe you need to know that the relief you felt from being caught is somewhat mutual in a sense. That the people here don’t just see you as a weapon, despite the burden, but that you’re someone worth saving. Worth keeping around.

Worth healing.

“That’s it?” you ask. “No scolding or punishment?”

Bucky scoffs humourlessly. “You get a kick out of punishment, darling?”

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.”

“I’m not your fucking baby sitter,” he mutters and starts walking back to the building, rightfully assuming you’ll follow. “If you want, I can ask Steve to tell you off in the morning. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.”

Some pathetic part of you wants to sulk at his response like an ill-tempered child. “Then why come after me?”

It stays quiet for a second as you cross the field towards the compound. “I couldn’t let a poor escape plan be successful.”

You can’t help but snort at that answer and decide that fine, you’d play along for now. But you wonder if the curious Bucky you’d seen a few days ago had completely vanished since that dinner.

…

The next morning, Bucky gets cornered by you after breakfast. He looks down his nose at your defiant face.

“You didn’t tell anyone about last night?” you ask him and he raises his brows, unimpressed.

It had surprised you that no one at breakfast mentioned anything or gave you even so much as a dirty look. Clearly, none of them are aware that you tried to make your escape last night. And you cannot for the life of you figure out why Bucky is taking it easy on you. Is he smart enough to assume that your own guilt will do more damage than he ever could? Is this part of some bigger scheme of his? Perhaps he is actually as tired and unbothered as he looked when you saw him in those woods.

“What happened last night?” he asks with a telling smirk. The current look on your face is worth the lack of sleep he had tonight. It’s too easy to rattle you. You roll your eyes and Bucky smirks even wider at that. Is he… flirting?

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you try again.

Bucky remains quiet and fights to keep a straight face. He did expect your question, but why didn’t he tell anyone? Because he thought you and him would get along after those tiny moments during that first dinner? Because the team would have let you walk away? Because Bucky doesn’t want you to go… Because he thinks he can help. Help the world. Help you. He thinks he can help you. And you can help him. And–

“Want me to tell them now?” he says instead.

He barely notices the flash of panic in your eyes before you cover it with an annoyed scoff and turn on your heel to walk away. He watches you. Every step until you are out of sight.

“You said she trusts you,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind him and Bucky schools his face back to bland interest before he turns to Steve. “That doesn’t look like she trusts you.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

Steve frowns pensively. “Well, speed up the process. We have an important mission and we need her for it.”

“What?” Bucky almost loses his restraint, his body flaring in alarm. “Steve, she hasn’t had any training. She was locked up for months. It’s too big of a risk–”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Buck,” Steve tells him regretfully, but instantly notices that Bucky isn’t buying it. “This is the thing we needed her for.”

“She isn’t some kind of weapon!” Bucky exclaims and he notices Natasha turning away from her conversation in the nearest common room to see what the commotion is about. He gives her a warning look, then lowers his voice. “Steve. This could’ve been me,” Bucky breathes. And there it is. Recognition flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We can’t use her like this. She’s all alone.”

Steve looks past Bucky’s shoulder as if you’re still walking away from him. Angry frown, uptilted chin and swaying hips– Bucky almost looks. Then Steve sighs and looks back at his friend. “Take all the time you need. If she’s ready, I’ll explain the mission to her. I think she might want to help.”

…

Bucky reads over the file until his eyes turn bleary. Steve was right, you will want to help.

He thinks you can handle it, but… what if you encounter a trigger on the way? What if it all becomes too much? Bucky realises he isn’t nearly close enough to care this much, and he doesn’t, but who else but him is going to care whether you live or die? Sometimes Bucky wonders if even you care whether you live or die. What would have happened to Bucky if everyone had given up on him? He knows damn well that he’d be long dead if not so many people found him useful.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bucky never had a choice. So he finds himself knocking at your door at 10pm with the file in hand.

After opening the door, you barely manage to get a word out before Bucky extends the folder towards you. “Steve needs your help on this. It should be fine, but the choice is up to you.”

Quick. Brief. He’s just the messenger and the decision is all yours. Bucky turns and makes to walk away – before you can spot all of the thoughts crossing his mind – but your voice stops him.

“Will you be there?”

The question takes him by surprise. Turning back towards you and slowly walking to the doorframe you’re standing under, he creases his brows together. “You need me to come along?”

You shrug abashedly. “Will you?”

Bucky studies your face intently. “Yes,” he lies. He’ll figure something out with Steve.

“What if I can’t do what you need me to do?” There it is again. He doesn’t get why this vulnerable side of you keeps surprising him so much.

“You’ll be useful,” are his terrible words of comfort. He wants to palm himself in the face.

The suppressed smile you give him heats his face and he’s sure you’ll call him out on his horrible people skills, but you stay quiet. The silence grows and grows and Bucky starts to shift nonchalantly, wondering if he should walk off and let you read the file in private.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“You’re coming?”

“Yes,” you affirm and look up at him, handing the file back. “Do you not want me to go?”

“It’s your choice,” he tells you and gently takes the folder.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Some wall snaps up inside of him at that tone – at that hopeful look in your eyes. “You could use the mission to make your escape,” he says with a shrug and makes to turn away from you again. “I won’t stop you this time.”

He walks away, leaving you to gape at his retreating form.

…

The mission was simple enough.

Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you would be attending a gala. Supposedly, there is a certain divide between the guests in attendance. Your job is mainly to feel out just who will be willing to join your cause. What goes unsaid is that you’re also required to butter them up to spring into action when your team would deem it necessary.

The party is in full swing and everyone is finally losing their mask of formality and enjoying their evening. You just hit the sweet spot of their susceptibility and you sweep into casual conversation about politics. Seeing who keeps quiet, who isn’t scared to speak up, whose faces harden at the prospect of change, etcetera. All of your antennas are on and when you know people have stopped paying attention to you, that’s when you dare a glance across the room where you know Bucky is standing.

All dapper and handsome, wearing a very expensive suit.

All of you have taken thorough action to look exceptional and to blend in perfectly with the high class crowd. Being charming is easy enough, looking it was a necessity – yet, all of it does still feel very far removed from yourself. Like a betrayal to the woman who was locked up mere weeks ago. However, being a true professional, you don’t allow your thoughts to linger too much and channel back to the matter at hand.

Then you feel it.

The searing heat that starts at your legs and spreads all the way up to your chest and cheeks. Like a virus burning over your skin. And you know what it is – know who it is. So you look back in the direction of Bucky, if only to catch him in the act.

But he’s unbothered. Brooding and observing from the bar in the shadow of the room, somehow alone and undiscovered by most of the crowd (a skill you assume he has acquired over the years). And his eyes are still on you. They glide down and back up for even more emphasis and you swallow away the dryness in your throat.

Gliding a sensual hand over the arm of the man next to you, you excuse yourself with a warm smile and slowly stride over to the culprit. Bucky waits patiently, and you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you walk over. He hands you a spare glass of champagne and turns his back to the room when you’re close enough to hear him.

“It’s working,” he says and you swear he sounds slightly impressed.

“Did you assume I’d fuck up?” you taunt and lean over the bar, sipping at the glass flute between your fingers. Bucky turns to you and his eyes sweep over the curve of your partly exposed back, the hollow of your spine and the curve of your ass. Then he holds his breath for a moment.

“Wouldn’t be mad if you did,” he tells you and his tone sounds gentle. You know that’s why he’s here, even though neither of you said it out loud, you know he’s here to stick up for you if you can’t get it done yet. If you’re not ready to be that person again.

Just like he probably knows that you’re here because the guilt of trying to escape from your saviours was eating you alive. And you didn’t want to prove Bucky right by escaping. You had glanced at the exits a few times and debated it, yes, but then looked at your team and thought against it. Looked at Bucky and–

“We’ll leave in five minutes,” Bucky murmurs as he finishes his glass. “I noted down all the people you signed as potential allies and who definitely isn’t.”

“There’s a few we can convince to help,” you cut in.

“What? The woman who runs that capitalist shitshow?” Bucky frowns. “Nah, she’s only motivated by money.”

You smile at him knowingly. “Money is a great motivator and our movement could benefit her greatly, so you just have to nudge her in the right direction.”

Bucky studies your face then and you might have found it less penetrating when he looked at your body with that stare. That intrigue. “And you already have a plan to tip her over to our side,” he concludes.

“You chose me for this for a reason, did you not?” you ask.

His eyes drop to your mouth. “I like a woman who takes her job seriously.”

You have no idea where that came from, but decide to go along with it anyway. You smirk and empty your flute, gently setting it down on the bar after. “Here I was, thinking you didn’t like anyone,” you purr and saunter off to find your other teammates and round up today’s mission.

You turn around when you hear Bucky yelling out your name, but then the room spins and debris flies everywhere. You’d cry out if the wind didn’t whoosh from your body and your ears don’t hollow out. You want to voice your discovery, as futile as it is, but the scream dies in your throat.

Someone just blew up the building.

…

It feels like there’s ash in your mouth. And throat. Your body bleats in pain, but nothing too severely. Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe you can’t feel a limb that’s no longer there. Maybe–

The room is dark except for an orange hue that travels over the ceiling and walls every few seconds. You’re slumped in a velvet chair and your fingers pluck softly at the fabric. One by one, your senses weave together and you hear the soft sounds of someone working on something. Paper ruffling, some gentle work, someone who’s trying to be quiet. You rasp in a raw breath and see a shadow at the bottom of your vision. But your body is relaxed. Or… Well, as relaxed as it can be.

There was an explosion.

“Have some water,” Bucky offers from his kneeling position between your legs and nudges his chin to the glass at the small table next to your chair. His voice is soft, raw. And when you squint at him while you blindly reach for the glass, you see soot on his face, dust on his suit.

“Are you alright?” you ask and your voice reminds you to take the drink. The water feels like heaven in your throat and you nearly gulp down the whole glass.

Bucky pauses at your question and surely he didn’t expect that to be your first question. “I’m fine,” he grumbles and focuses on the task at hand. Which, you quickly realise, is cleaning up the wound on your thigh.

Next to him, there’s a small container with small shards of glass in there and a used pair of tweezers. You feel the prickle of the wound at your thigh and observe closely as he presses some gauze to the puncture wounds. His hands are firm and steady as he wraps a bandage around your thigh to secure the gauze. His calluses scrape against your soft skin and you almost swear he takes more time than he should securing the bandage.

You heave a deep sigh and straighten up in the chair. “Natasha and Sam?”

“Natasha was sent to hunt down the ones responsible and needed an aerial patrol, so she took Sam.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you have a feeling it took some convincing to get Bucky to not go after the bastards himself, to let Natasha handle it instead. “There were deaths, lots of wounded.”

You flinch at that.

Bucky notices it. The glaze over your eyes and the tightening of your fingers into the soft fabric of the chair. He barely allows himself to hesitate and he covers your left hand with his right one, taking your fingers and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “We got out as many as we could, no one saw the explosion coming,” he explains and hopes the information brings you some peace. He’s desperate to take that haunted look off your face, but doesn’t know how.

He gives you time then. Allows you to sort through your memories and shush them. He strokes his thumb gently and squeezes your fingers every once in a while to anchor you to here, to being safe. Your breaths go from shallow to deep as they slow. He hears your heartbeat steady and watches clarity fill your eyes again.

Fuck him. Those eyes.

“Tomorrow, we go over your list and see what we can do. Let’s get some rest for now.” He pushes to a stand and moves to remove his hand from yours, but you hold onto him.

“I’m sorry for trying to escape,” you rasp and Bucky tenses at that. He did not expect that confession. Didn’t expect an apology either – he didn’t think one was warranted.

You slowly push to a stand and Bucky’s heartbeat spikes as you wobble on your legs before you steady yourself. His eyes search your face frantically and he tries not to linger at your lips for too long. You gently stroke a hand down his arm before brushing past him in thanks, and Bucky has to take a deep breath. A flash of you doing the same thing to one of tonight’s guests comes to him and jealousy hits him, a little too viciously. Just like it did when he saw it earlier tonight.

He turns around and watches as you walk up the small bag he packed for an instance like this. You pull out some clothes and Bucky shamelessly stares while you do it. He almost sighs as the sight of that orange hue travelling over your form, most of the sleek dress still intact and definitely still doing its job of making you look good enough to eat.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurts. But he stands still as he watches you freeze. You slowly turn to him and tilt your head at him curiously.

Then, a slow smirk spreads over your face and your brows raise playfully. Bucky frowns as he tries to read the expression on your face, even if the lightness of it makes him want to drop to his knees in relief. This is much, much better than that haunted look that was there mere minutes ago.

Until one of your hands lifts from the bag, a small scrap of lace dangling from your fingers. “I am never letting you pack our getaway bag again.”

Bucky matches your smirk and strides over to you, close enough that you have to tip your chin up to maintain eye contact. “You can choose not to wear it,” he shrugs and the nonchalant gesture makes your legs weak. Slowly, he starts unbuttoning his own pants and shirt, stripping himself of his clothes and tempting you to break that eye contact. “But we’re sharing a bed, so you decide what is less tempting for me to look at.”

It takes everything inside of you not to balk at this… flirtation. But it’s nice – so fucking nice to deflate that balloon of tension after a mission like the one you had tonight. To have banter and humour and perhaps a little friendship.

“I better not catch you looking at all,” you snipe, but have a hard time keeping the smile off your face.

Bucky smiles too then and gives you a wink powerful enough to set your clothes aflame. “Too bad. You can’t ask that of me and look like that.”

That does render you a bit speechless and Bucky takes his win as he strips himself to his boxers. Climbing under the sheets, Bucky’s powerful body shifts and ripples with movement.

This is going to be a long night.

#ok this is NOT worth the wait #but its here which is a HUGE win for me #i hope you like it #not me being way too impatient to write a slow burn #the upcoming smut better be good too #pls tell me what u think i have obviouslty not forgotten about you guys #<3 #rebellion series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #writing #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #oneshot #series

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doetic · 1 year ago

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anything. (TEASER) - dom!experienced!Jschlatt x smaller!sub!inexperienced!F!reader (18+)

Plot: Inexperienced reader finds herself in the bedroom of a man she had only met online that morning in an attempt to be more spontaneous and adventurous following a breakup. Warnings: BDSM (very light hitting and choking but no established safe word), smut, hookup culture, size kink (reader is described as shorter, thin, small and fragile compared to schlatt), female reader with female parts (not many gendered terms besides occasional things like good girl) Word Count (for this snippet): 456 A/n: Based on a Jordan Romano self insert smut I wrote in a notebook during a boring uni lecture

“So fuckin’ tiny,”

Schlatt’s voice came out as a low, near-growl as he looked you up and down with a slow, predatory gaze. His large hands tightly gripped your waist with a possessive firmness to them.

“I could do anything to you, and I’d bet you’d love it all.” He wet his lips. “Wouldn’t you?”

Shyly you let out a hum of confirmation, looking down at his hands on your waist rather than up into his eyes. Sex in general wasn’t something you were clueless of, but definitely not your area of expertise. However, he was handsome, and you were feeling spontaneous following the end of a long term relationship.

“C’mon toots, use your words,” he let out an amused chuckle, moving his left hand from your waist to your cheek. His thumb was placed under your jaw and turned your face up to look him in the eyes. “You’ll love any way I decide to use you, won’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” a warmth filled your cheeks as you spoke “Please use me…”

If you could purr, a low rumble would have filled your chest at the electric feeling of his touch. The intensity of his gaze could almost be physically felt as he searched your eyes for any sign of wanting to back out, but despite the nervous energy wafting off of you, there was none to be found.

His oh-so-tempting lips parted into a cocky grin, his thumb gently rubbing the skin of your jaw. “So shy… don’t worry, I can be gentle.”

You felt cold as he removed his touch from you and sat down on the bed behind him, gesturing for you to straddle him.

“It’s okay,” you spoke as you obeyed his silent command. “It’s just been a while.”

You ran a hand cautiously and shyly along his chest, looking down at your hand instead of his face again. His hand gently grabbed your wrist and guided it underneath his shirt with the careful patience one would give to a frightened animal.

“I won’t hurt you baby, I promise.” He spoke, leaning into your neck. You almost gasped at the feeling of his breath against your sensitive skin alone, and once his lips pressed against it you felt as if you were dissolving into his touch.

You believed his words, but knew at the same time that the man before you was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The large man before you certainly had the capability to bruise and harm you in the most heavenly ways at his will, and a part of you craved for his gentle touch to become the harsh and animalistic one you knew he was capable of.

“I know,” you replied sincerely. “Please don’t make me wait.”

#alyssia's upcoming #jschlatt smut #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fic #schlatt oneshot #schlatt x reader #schlatt smut

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itwasrealtome · 4 months ago

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THIN ICE is coming by this weekend and I'm super excited for you to read this because it's my first Olivia x reader.

You can find the extract here.

Fill the form to be tagged 🫶🏻

Love you all ❤️

#olivia benson x reader #thin ice #oneshot #upcoming oneshots #law and order svu

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some-pers0n · 7 months ago

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Every once in a while I think about the ship I've been obsessed over for close to two years now and feel like I'm ascending to another plane of reality. Like sometimes you just encounter a ship that hits every single mark and is perfect in every regard and you're left stunned how something like that can even exist

#Anyways I'mma put the actual inane ramblings in the tags #Medic and Engie make me so ill every time I think about them for a while I feel like tearing into things and biting people and throwing up #How something like that can exist completely defies me #I don't know how something that perfect can exist #I'm typically a multi-shipper and while I still kinda am I honest to god don't really care to write other ships #Not cause they ain't good (they are pretty damn good) but because Engiemedic is just on another level #Like dammnnn!! that's why I've spent so long writing a fic about them!#I can't fathom it honestly how characters like that can exist #They're like a slightly warped reflection of themselves #They're both intelligent mentally ill lunatics with no morals whatsoever #The only thing is that Engie is marginally better at hiding it #If you go into headcanon territory than WHOO!! OHH DAMNNN #Like what gets me the most about Engiemedic is how they're so similar #They think and exist on the same wavelength #In tune with each other. Their neurons braided like wires #If I start talking about how the machine and the flesh are not opposites but rather one in the same we gonna be here all day #I just can't...believe the ship exists #Like man how does this happen #You want humour? Goofy wacky experiments and silliness of them violating several conventions #You want angst? Hell yeah they've got plenty of it #Fluff? Buddy I start wailing and sobbing if they accidentally brush hands while working on stuff #I could write about them for ages and not get bored they can fit in every circumstance #They make me SICK they make me CRAZY I love them so so much #They would do anything for each other #I look at what they have and I can feel like I understand what love is #I need to write more oneshots and minifics about them they're so flexiable and fun #Can't wait to do parallels with them in these upcoming chapters #Either way GODDDDD I love these two so much I could go on for hours about them #especially if I'm allowed to talk about headcanons #sp-rambles

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sinclairmaxwellao3 · 8 months ago

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#fanfic #the sun and moon show #fanfiction #fnaf daycare attendant #tsams dazzle #tsams jack #mother's day #oneshot #upcoming releases #quotes #grieving #grief #solar x moon #solarmoon

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atommadly · 27 days ago

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🎄✨ Upcoming Holiday One-Shots! ✨🎄

The holidays are upon us, and I’ve got some special stories lined up for you to enjoy! From heartwarming moments to steamy encounters, there’s something for every kind of reader. Here’s a sneak peek at what’s coming:

✨ A Very Special Gift (Harry Wells x Reader One-Shot) With the team stressed over Zoom's looming threat, you decide to lift their spirits by organizing a Secret Santa for Christmas. But when Iris asks for your help to find the perfect gift for Harry, you’re the one who gets to deliver something truly special. 🎁✨

✨Not Everyone Hates You (Eobard Thawne x Reader Drabble) You invite Eobard for Christmas—an act of kindness he doesn't fully understand, but one he cherishes more than he’s willing to admit. 🌟

✨My Entire World (H.R. Wells x Reader Smutty Drabble) You show H.R. that he is loved, even when he struggles to find his place in the team. A moment of vulnerability, passion, and reassurance. 💕

✨Late Night Comfort (Harry Wells x Reader One-Shot) After a project failure leaves you overwhelmed with guilt, Harry refuses to let you spiral alone. He’s there to remind you that you don’t have to carry it all. 🥰

✨Learning to Slow Down (Eobard Thawne x Reader Smutty Drabble) After almost losing you, Eobard learns the importance of slowing down and savoring the moments with you. 🖤

✨I’ll Be Home for Christmas (Tom Cavanagh x Reader One-Shot) Plans to spend the holidays together don’t go as expected, and now you’re left wondering: Did Tom make it home in time for Christmas? 🎅🎄

✨ Worship at the Edge of Perfection (Harry Wells x Reader Smutty Drabble) Harry is always so focused on his work, but tonight, your focus is solely on him. You want to worship every inch of his body, showing him how much you love him—especially that perfect v-line. 😏🔥

✨A Cold, Lonely Christmas (Eobard Thawne x Reader One-Shot) Eobard has spent years pretending to be Harrison, always focused on his goals. But even with his single-minded drive, you’ve become a distraction he can’t ignore—especially on Christmas Eve. 🎄💔

✨Flushing Cheeks (Nash Wells x Reader One-Shot) After a heated argument with the team, Nash storms off into the snowy night. Always the loner, he doesn’t expect anyone to follow him. But you’re there, running after him to show that someone cares. ❄️❤️

✨You’re My Oxygen (Tom Cavanagh x Reader One-Shot) Digging out dusty Christmas decorations isn’t ideal for an asthmatic like you. Luckily, Tom is there to take care of you, proving he’s more than just your husband—he’s your lifeline. 💕

✨Underneath the Christmas Lights (Eobard Thawne x Reader One-Shot) When all your plans to visit the Christmas lights fall through, the last person you expect to accompany you is Eobard. But under the twinkling lights, you see a side of him you didn’t know existed. ✨🌟

✨Crush Journal (Harry Wells x Reader Drabble) Your private journal about a certain brilliant scientist wasn’t meant to be read. But when Cisco finds it and shares the secret, you’re left trying to survive the embarrassment in front of the team—and Harry himself. 📓😂

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adamcyzk · 5 months ago

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Had to make a new token for an upcoming one shot :]

#The necklace is a vitrified eye of a displacer beast!#he got it from his gf :)#im so excited for this upcoming oneshot :3 #victor vallakovich #viktor vallakovich #EtM: CoS #EtM: Viktor Vallakovich

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biffhofosho · 6 months ago

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Sneak Peek: Fill Her Up, My Fine Friend

Excerpt from an upcoming Hyungwon oneshot that's been in the works for ages but has finally come to fruition. It was honestly one of the first oneshots I drafted YEARS ago, but the muse takes me where she wants me, and for a long time, I had to follow, but there was just always something about this fic that I've loved, and soon, I'll be able to share it, too. :)

When Freya had moved to Seoul from the American Midwest, everything had felt like a tidal wave of terrifying change. The traffic, the people, the neon, the food carts—it was total sensory overload. The most exciting things to ever happen in middle-of-nowhere Pilot Mound, Iowa, were the thunderstorms across the corn fields and Mrs. Ogden’s rooster waiting to attack her ankles at the end of her driveway.

What did Freya understand about the big world since she’d never seen any of it? She hadn’t been convinced she’d succeed a world apart from everything she’d ever known, but it turned out, she was pretty good at tutoring. She’d built up a healthy side business out of her apartment in addition to the translation work she did for a local tourism firm. She had friends and adventure and a respectable income. She didn’t want for anything.

Except for the untouchable heartthrob sitting across from her.

“You should be proud,” Freya said confidently. “You have made so much progress. By the time you travel to the States, you might pass for an American.”

She wasn’t just stroking his ego either. Hyungwon really had made huge strides, even if she wished he’d pushed a little harder outside their sessions. If his end goal was impressing his girlfriend’s American parents, as he’d hinted in their first session, they would no doubt be singing his praises in a few more weeks. Of course, the realist side of Freya knew that meant he would likely propose while overseas, but at least she could take pride in knowing she’d helped make the world’s most appealing man just a touch more impressive.

“What do you say?” asked Freya. “Do you think you’re ready to graduate to the letter F?”

The stiffness in his neck was unmistakable and very familiar. In the years since she’d started her tutoring business, she’d seen it a hundred times, especially at this point in the curriculum, so she had developed a strategy for just such occasions.

Freya pushed back from the table and sagged back against the foot of the couch as she offered her brightest grin, the one that showcased her cornflower blue eyes and hayseed freckles. Back in Iowa, she was just another country bumpkin; in Seoul, she was exotic, which was perfect for diverting defenses. She skirted around the table so this time she was right in front of Hyungwon, nothing in between them. With a little wiggle and tuck to get comfortable and chaste in her dress, she looked up into the tall boy’s eyes.

They were so brown and clear and full of unexpected character, like seeing to the bottom of a stream on a sunny day. Freya wondered how often his girlfriend got lost in his eyes.

But this wasn’t why he was here…

Lips, Freya! Lips! she chastised herself but regretted it the moment her gaze fell to that freckle studding the ripe pinkness of his mouth, like a forgotten crumb begging to be eaten up…

She cleared her throat and pointed to her own lips. “You do better when you see the difference between the sounds. Let’s practice a word you use every day. Instead of ‘keo-pi,’ try saying ‘cof-fee’.”

“Keopi,” Hyungwon said immediately, and at once, he knew he’d failed. The corner of his lips wobbled down toward a frown, but Freya smiled at him.

“Just listen to the sound carefully, watch my lips, and repeat.”

Her teeth grazed her bottom lip as she puffed out a long f sound. A moment later, Hyungwon mirrored her, but Freya could tell right away his lips were too pursed, almost as though he were waiting for a kiss, and before she could think better of it, her hand reached toward him. She caught it at the last possible second, her thumb frozen just above his bottom lip while her hand hovered a millimeter from his cheek.

“Sorry,” she stammered. “Um, try moving your lips a different way. The p sound is all lips but the f sound uses your teeth a bit so the air can blow around them like steam from a kettle.”

Hyungwon nodded though his eyes still rested on the hand that had almost touched his mouth. He tried again, but the p sound stubbornly clung to those skilled and sculpted oral muscles.

Focus on the lesson, Freya…

This time, she had the presence of mind to think before she acted. She glanced down to his hand resting on his knee and asked, “May I?”

Hyungwon followed her gaze and nodded slowly. The moment her fingers closed around his wrist, a swarm of butterflies alighted in her stomach. Freya did her best to rip their wings off before they got the better of her, and she flattened his palm, holding it a reasonable distance from her mouth.

“Okay, so, um…” Great, now the English tutor could hear what a stumbling, unprofessional mess she was, but his skin was just so soft and warm. Thank God for his hoodie or her hand might have wandered against her will up his forearm. “Just hold this here so you can feel the difference in the sounds, and then you can try on yourself, too.”

Freya took a deep breath and then made both the p and the f sound. The first sound hit his palm like a missile of air while the second barely grazed it in a sustained hiss.

“You feel that, right?” she asked, reminding herself strenuously that she meant the sounds and not the energy zipping up her fingertips from his wrist. “One is over with quickly, and the other can last as long as you want.”

Hyungwon’s eyes widened as though he’d just unlocked some great secret, and as soon as Freya released him, he immediately tried both sounds a few times until she could finally hear that telltale flow of breath the sound required.

“You’re a fast learner,” she praised. “Now you can try it in a word like ‘coffee.’”

This time when Hyungwon tried the word, it sounded more like an h than a p, but Freya rejoiced at his progress. Over the next several minutes, they practiced words with f’s until he really familiarized himself the sound. Sentences followed, simple at first, with some building on the sounds from the previous lesson to ease him into the rhythm and reinforce his pronunciation. She would be well and truly proud if it weren’t for the grating fact that he was doing this all to impress his girlfriend’s parents.

“Find the frog fast,” Hyungwon finished for the third time.

“Wow, okay. Now, you’re really showing up all my other students,” she said.

His grin was so broad, it showcased a glint of a silver tooth way in the back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Freya could feel the pink in her cheeks, so she grabbed her lesson plan and focused on that instead. They were nearing the end of the day’s exercises, and just like she knew he would curse her for the monstrous Siri sentence she’d lobbed at him earlier, she braced for the next impact.

“Ready for the next challenge?” she asked as she handed him another note. “This one will work on both the f sound and an American idiom, which will add to your fluency.”

Hyungwon’s brow furrowed as he read the paper. When he looked back at her, his gaze was scolding, and electricity charged down Freya’s spine.

“Do you know what that means?” she asked.

There was a flare in his eyes before they tempered, and he shook his head.

“It’s something you might say to someone who works at a gas station or even at a cafe. Pretend you just finished your cup of coffee and would like a refill. Go ahead, try it. I’ll get us started. Will there be anything else, sir?”

For a long moment, Hyungwon stared at her. There was so much more to be found in eyes, so much more to misinterpret. It was easier to see things she wanted to see, and right now, Freya wanted to see desire in them.

Her breath quickened, and because it was so quiet in her apartment, she heard it.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” she repeated.

At last, Hyungwon looked back at the sheet. If she thought he would just read it like he had the last sentence, she was sorely mistaken. This time, he memorized it, and when he looked back up, it was straight into her eyes.

“Fill her up, my fine friend.”

#monsta x smut #hyungwon smut #oneshot #upcoming fic

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astralnymphh · 1 year ago

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so.. there was a certain request.. and now.. ౨ৎ

(screenshot)

AESTRA GAMER ELLIE DEBUT AESTRA GAMER ELLIE DEBUT ALERT ALERT ALERT ALARMS GOING OFF EXPLOSIONS IN THE DISTANCE FIREWORKS IN THE SKIES PHONES ARE SUBMERGED IN RICE VIBRATOR BATTERIES USED UP ALERT ALERT ALERT

#ellie williams #⋆' upcoming #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #gamer!ellie #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams fanfic

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thevoidstaredback · 7 months ago

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So....I think I just accidentally made the best outfit that I can't even wear because I don't have the money to make it

Starts with a black bodysuit, turtleneck and long sleeves; Iridescent blue scale mail/chainmail; Black cigarette pants with an overskirt, but the inside of the overskirt is lined with black glitter fabric; Black, knee high combat boots with assassin's pockets and star charms hanging from the chains; A silver circlet with opalite moonstone; A black sandstone wedding band; blue planet earrings; Sparkly highlighter, white face gems, white glitter, black puppy eyeliner, nude lip

Do you see it? If not, I pulled pictures to envision it:

Here's the actual pieces:

Here's the colour of the scalemail:

(it won't let me add an 11th picture for the black glitter fabric)

Do you see what I mean?????

I would die for this outfit. I might kill for it, actually. But I don't have the time or money right now.

#random #this came to me while i was writing down another brain child before i could forget it #this exact outfit may or may not feature in an upcoming oneshot or story #is the space theme on purpose? yes #but that's because i have loved watching the stars for as long as i can remember #can y'all imagine this with loke a longsword or a few daggers?#can yall see my vision

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doetic · 2 years ago

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Baby, it's cold outside (TEASER) - Ex bf!Jschlatt x F!Reader

FINISHED!! FIND IT HERE!! Plot: Y/n had only planned to quickly grab the things she left at her newly-ex-boyfriend's house and leave, but an unforeseen snowstorm leaves her with no choice but to wait it out indoors with a very persistent Schlatt who's determined to piece back together their relationship. Hurt/Comfort with a very rough start that progressively grows fluffy. Warnings: (For this snippet) Prior breakup, heated argument with yelling, characters are trapped inside during a dangerous snowstorm (but are safe), mention of possible death, quite a bit of swearing. Word Count: 704

A/N: Just testing the waters with this snippet to see how high on my priority list the fic should be! Sorry about shitty picture quality. Requests are open and very much appreciated right now!!

The bits of light that managed to make it through the heavy snow and flow through the large front window illuminated the entryway in lieu of the now non-functional lights, allowing Y/n to see what she was doing as she gathered one of the boxes into her arms for her first trip to her car. With the storm getting so bad that the power went out, Y/n knew her window of opportunity to leave was rapidly fading away. Waiting it out with Schlatt was not an option, it would be too painful, a harsh reminder of what they once had. Shifting the box's weight to one arm, Y/n used her other one to open the front door.

"Are you insane?" Schlatt shouted from the doorway into his office. He quickly rushed over, his hand darting out to quickly shut the front door before Y/n could exit through it and head into the thick, opaque wall of white that laid outside. "It's snowing so hard you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face! You'd get killed trying to drive out there!" Despite his angry demeanor, Y/n knew Schlatt well enough to see through it as a cover up for his concern.

She couldn't help but scoff in response to his worry, even though she knew he was right about the danger. Reluctantly relenting, Y/n placed her things down. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't drive." She glanced out of the house's front window. "But don't you dare act like you'd care if I got hurt."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Schlatt's hand darted out to grab Y/n's arm and turn her to face towards him, the softness of his grip a stark contrast to the harsh desperation of his movements. "I'm not the bad guy here. I'm not the one who ended things, I'm the one who's fighting for us!"

"Yeah, I know. You won't stop blowing up my phone and acting like you're such a fucking martyr for it." Y/n pulled her arm out from his grasp, glaring up at the larger man. "Don't act like you're some innocent, blameless party who I oh so greatly wronged. Neither of us were perfect in our relationship, neither of us could give the other what they needed."

Schlatt looked appalled at her statement. "Don't speak for me! You gave me everything I needed, everything I could have possibly wanted!"

"Don't delude yourself Schlatt, I could never be good enough for you. I could never be good enough for your life." Y/n's eyes were full of resentment. "But even if so, what did I get in return? A boyfriend who's always too busy to spend time with me, and when he does find time, he's drunk? A partner I can't even talk about to anyone? A five-fucking-year relationship with a man who refuses to pop the question while he builds his brand by flirting with other people to an audience of millions?" Y/n's face contorted in sorrow as she desperately held back her tears.

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Why did you let this grow until you broke?"

"When could I have sat you down to tell you? You hardly had time in your schedule to eat the meals I made." Y/n snapped. Schlatt stayed silent, unable to refute. She sighed. "Face it Schlatt, you can't love me in the way I need you to without giving up everything you've built."

Tension thickened the air into cement as the two stared silently at each other, daring the other to say something first. Hesitantly, Schlatt opened his mouth to speak. "I would have given it all up for you." His voice was gentle and meek.

Y/n turned away from him to hide the tears that finally overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. Oh how her heart soared at those words, but Y/n knew taking up his offer would mean cruelly ripping his passion and a lifetime of hard work away from him. Y/n couldn't possibly entertain the idea of doing that to someone she loved.

"I'm going to check on Jambo. Just let me go."

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfic #mcyt x reader #chuckle sandwich x reader #jschlatt fic #schlatt fic #schlatt oneshot #jschlatt oneshot #jschlatt angst #jschlatt fluff #alyssia's upcoming

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