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solarhysm · 3 months ago

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DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed.

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

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WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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bitchface24-7 · 1 month ago

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COYOTE UGLY - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: When you’re not at the lab researching and developing Hextech, you’re in Zaun at the BDSM club Coyote Ugly as the bartender. Having this job ensures your team has enough money to continue working without any headaches. Well you’re in for a massive migraine since the man you’ve been in love with since you were kids is gonna find out about your dirty little secret.

warnings: secrets, bdsm etiquette, dom!viktor, love confessions, abelist comments (Viktor refers to himself in a negative light twice, referencing what others have called him) traffic light system, spanking, afab terms used for the smut section, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, squirting, I’m gonna write this as a 5 + 1 kinda deal. Ok? Ok. Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. This fic very obviously references Coyote Ugly (2000), and I know it is a bar in the movie but I didn't want to do a whole plotline on The Last Drop vs Coyote Ugly; and I didn't have the energy to write and characterize Silco LMAO. So I hope none of y'all are mad I tweaked it to be a BDSM club/bar instead. I've loved this movie ever since I was a kid. Now I'm tempted to do a Practical Magic (1998) fic too 😭😭

The Five Times Viktor Gets a Clue About You, and the One Time His Suspicions are Confirmed

One.

Viktor’s known you for almost two decades by this point. You’re well into your twenties and can do whatever you please. But Viktor’s got suspicions regarding you. Your excuses, your secrets. He knows you better than he knows himself.

So when you walk into the lab one day with a stack of cash, both Jayce and Viktor can’t help but look at you as if you were a project they were working on. You’ve peaked their curiosity and suspicion.

“So,” Viktor starts as you give the money to Jayce, and walk back to your desk, “Where did that money come from?”

You lightly scoff, “Don’t worry about it, V.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about it! That’s a lot of money miláček! Please tell me you got it legally.”

You whip around with a snort, “Don’t worry Viktor, it’s all legal. I just got paid from my second job. I already took a cut for myself; the rest I’m donating to the lab for our research.”

Viktor’s lips thin at that. You already took a cut for yourself and still had that much money to just… give away?

“Whatever you say, miláček.”

You’re gonna regret that. You’ve just peaked Viktor’s curiosity; and what’s the saying?

Curiosity killed the cat… but satisfaction brought it back.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Two.

Viktor’s curiosity is peaked once more when he sees a glimmer of sparkle at your navel as your shirt rises, as you try to get something off the shelf for him.

Viktor hums as he puts his pen on the hem of your shirt to lift it a bit more. You gasp as a fresh breeze brushes against your abdomen.

“Whats this, hmm?”

You sputter a bit before dropping your arms and tugging your shirt down quickly, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Your belly button is magical and shimmers on its own?”

You sarcastically hum, “How’d you know?” you add a dramatic gasp, just because you can. Viktor quirks an eyebrow at you, “You can just admit you got a piercing. Its quite common down in Zaun.”

“Whats the fun in that.” You pout, “I got it forever ago, a bit before we left for the Academy actually.”

“You got your navel pierced when you were seventeen, and I never found out about it until you were twenty-six and I was twenty-eight?”

You playfully shrug, “Guess you aren't as observant as you think you are.”

Viktor clenches his jaw, “Don’t tease me miláček. You won't like where you end up.”

“Try me.”

With that, you walk away with a sway to your hips as Viktor's grip on his pen tightens to the point he thinks it's going to snap in half.

You're going to regret that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Three.

“What is that?!” Jayce exclaims as you lounge on the couch, taking a small nap. “What? What! What're you screeching about Jayce?”

“That!” he squeaks, “On your lower back! Is that a…”

Viktor finishes the thought, “A tattoo?”

You twist your torso and look down. There's the perpetrator, a small tramp stamp that kind of looks like the Hexcores magic, and in the centre is a heart.

“Yeah.” you casually state as you go back to nap.

“Why does it look like the Hexcore?”

You take a quick peek over to Viktor before muttering, “Why not? I care about you guys and decided to get a tattoo to commemorate it.”

Jayce awes a bit but Viktor just narrows his eyes at you. There's more to it than just that. Because if not, then why did you put it in such a… risque place? Unless you wear low-rise pants or extremely cropped shirts; no one would ever see it.

Unless you're completely naked.

Viktor rubs his nose as you reposition yourself, your hip jutting out as your top rises even farther.

Viktor casually stands up and walks over to where you're resting on the labs couch. Lightly touching your lower back, he feels you flinch as he presses his hand harder onto the fully healed tattoo, “You must be cold, here. Let me fix that.”

And with that, Viktor pulls up the fleece blanket to cover your torso.

You look to Viktor and your eyes have darkened, your lids slightly narrowed. Your lips are lightly pursed as you examine Viktor. Viktor just smirks at you.

The longer this goes on, the more clues Viktor gets.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Four.

Jayce keeps pacing in the lab. Back and forth, back and forth. Viktor is worried Jayce is going to wear the floor down to the baseboards.

“Are you okay?” Viktor quietly asks, looking at Jayce in concern. He's never seen him so… frazzled before.

“No. There's a small gathering happening later today with the council members and high-level individuals. There was supposed to be a bartender to make the meeting not as mind numbing but the one Mel booked previously is sick. Now we need to find a replacement for…”

Jayce looks at his watch and runs a hand through his hair, “Three hours from now.”

Before Viktor can put his two cents in, you pipe in, “I can do it.”

Jayce whips around to look at you, a manic gleam in his eyes, “You’re not joking, right? You can actually bartend.”

You nod once, “I can actually bartend.”

“Shes not lying Jayce. She was a part-time bartender at the Last Drop when… when Vander was the owner.

Both you and Viktor look down, Vander was a good man. He took care of everyone as if they were his own kids.

Jayce clears his throat, trying to dissipate the mournful aura in the lab, “Wow, you're like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Many hidden talents.”

You snort, “More like a coyote prowling in the forest. Challenge brings mastery, dear Jayce.”

Viktor quirks an eyebrow at you. That's an… odd choice of words. No one ever refers to themselves as a coyote unless they frequent…

Oh.

Everything is slowly piecing together, he just needs one more piece of proof before he pounces. Viktor almost feels like he's insane; he's a frequent member of the well-established BDSM club down in Zaun; Coyote Ugly. He's sure he would’ve seen you before. But there's the off chance you work when he's not there. He only goes on Saturdays, on a bi-weekly schedule.

Maybe you knew that and planned your schedule around Viktor's desires.

For this last bit of proof, Viktor’s gonna bring his attitude from Coyote Ugly to the lab. Hopefully, he doesn't traumatize Jayce (or you if he's wrong.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Five.

Viktor is good at what he does. Many people look at him and assume he's a virgin due to his disabilities. They think he's submissive due to the fact he's more lean and lithe as a man.

He's not.

He can get anyone down to their knees. He can get anyone to listen to him. He doesn't typically use this power in his day-to-day life, but he's going to bring it to the lab today. Luckily for him, Jayce had a mandated meeting to go to and couldn't weasel his way out of it.

He sees his target in the corner of his eye.

You.

You're standing by the blackboard, wobbling in place. Viktor isn't sure how well you've slept, if you've eaten anything today, or if you've even taken a break.

Viktor gets up from his own spot, and makes his way to the small kitchenette in the lab and prepares a basic sandwich and sweet milk for you. He places the items onto your desk and you're none the wiser.

Its not until Viktor clears his throat do you look away from the blackboard.

“You can barely stand straight. Here, come take a small break. Eat something.”

You smile lightly at the care, “Oh Viktor, I’d love to but I can't. I'm on the verge of a breakthrough; I can feel it! If I stop now, I wont ever complete this runic sequence!”

“I insist.”

“No, I really can't—”

“Sit.”

With that, you sat down at your desk immediately. You've never heard Viktor's voice go like that. So dark, so commanding, so… sensual.

You feel almost ashamed. Here Viktor is, making you food, a drink, and worrying about your health. And you were too much of a brat to see it.

You take half the sandwich and bite into it as your stomach growls at you. Shit, he's right. You haven't eaten in several hours and now your body’s catching up to you.

Viktor tilts his head, observing you.

“You were right, thank you.”

Viktor puts his hand on the nape of your neck and squeezes. You shiver and lean into the touch.

“You’re welcome. Don't make me have to do that again.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and glossy. Your lips pouted lightly. Viktor's grip tightens on your nape and you somewhat successfully suppress a whine.

That's the final puzzle piece.

“I wont.”

“Good girl.”

And with that, Viktor can see you blue screen.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Plus One.

Viktor's changing up his routine, visiting Coyote Ugly on a Friday rather than his usual Saturday. The trek down to Zaun wasn't too bad, but the difference is air quality was highly noticeable.

Slowly but surely, Viktor makes his way to the club. He's in his usual outfit for this scene, an all-black ensemble with the buttons of his shirt undone almost dangerously low. He can feel the looks of desire shot his way. He's always on the top of the submissive’s lists at Coyote Ugly. And every coyote he's taken has been incredibly satisfied.

But ever since this theory of his sprouted, he's been hyper-focusing on it. On you. So he hasn't been able to take any of the coyotes to bed. They're desperate.

But there's a certain coyote that's already caught his eye.

He sees you working the bar as if it were second nature. Mixing drinks, pouring shots, opening beers, and chatting up the patrons. You seem so at home here.

Viktor gets a lovely eyeful of your outfit when you hope up on the bar with a megaphone, “Same shit, new day! We follow the rules and—”

All the patrons echo your words back to you, “We don't touch your girls!”

You smirk, “And with that, let the party begin!” a bell is heard ringing in the background but all Viktor can do is appreciate your sexiness.

You're in an all-black outfit as well, but its all leather. Your top is closed by a single button, so Viktor damn near gets an eyeful of your breasts. He can see your abdomen down to the top of your navel, your belly button piercing glittering in the club's lights.

Your leather pants are skin tight and low enough that Viktor's worried you can't bend over in them without flashing someone. He sees you turn around to hop off the bar and there it is. Your hexcore inspired tattoo.

Viktor feels his pants tighten at that. Its almost like a branding in his mind. Look at that. She's mine.

A few girls get up onto the bar and dance to the songs playing on the jukebox. With a distraction in place, he makes his way to the bar to order a drink.

Your back is to the bar as you clean some glasses, “What can I getcha?”

Viktor ensures his voice is loud enough so that you can hear him, “A whiskey sour, miláček.”

The sounds of cups almost breaking puts a smile on Viktor’s face. He's got you just where he wants you. You whip around with a deer-in-the-headlights look, “Vi—Viktor! What're you doing here?! You usually come on—”

“Saturdays. Yes, I know. But I've heard wonderful things about a certain bartender and wanted to see her for myself. The only bartender I've ever met is Thomas.”

You inhale sharply, “What gave me away?”

“Little things. The money, your body modifications, referring to yourself as a coyote.”

You hit your forehead with the palm of your hand, “I'm an idiot.”

Viktor shakes his head, “No, you just got too comfortable. Besides how you reacted a few days ago when given an order sealed the deal.”

Your face feels hot, almost unbearably so. Goddamn it.

“Does this… ruin anything between us?”

Viktor scoffs, “Absolutely not! Do you know how long I've fantasized about a scenario like this happening?”

“I have an idea…” your tone is breathless as your eyes are as wide as saucers. No way is this happening. No way are your dreams coming true.

Before anything else can happen, you do a special knock on the bar. Thomas whips his head over to look at you and seems shocked.

“This is officially a Code V. I need you to man the bar tonight.”

Thomas just smiles and takes over no problem, you hop over the bar and stand next to Viktor, a beaming smile on your face.

“A Code V?”

“When I officially get the man of my dreams, I get to have a shift off. No ifs, ands, or buts!”

Viktor smiles sweetly at that.

“So…” you add before your confidence dissipates, “Wanna go upstairs?”

Viktor knows that private rooms are located upstairs if you want to… have some fun. He just nods, a sly smirk on his face, “Lead the way, miláček.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You and Viktor rush up as best you can to one of the private rooms. Before anything happens, Viktor enquires if you know about the stoplight system. You do. And with that, you two touch each other in a way you’ve been dreaming about since you both started puberty.

A bit of kissing here, a bit of groping there. Before you know it, Viktor’s fingering open your pussy as you whine and pant at the pleasure Viktor is presenting your body with.

It’s wet, slick, and so hot. Viktor’s hand is slapping against your clit, causing a loud schlick sound that makes your ears burn in embarrassment. Viktor just revels in the sounds and faces you make; he never thought you could get any prettier. Looks like he was wrong.

“Please… Please… Put it in.” You beg, your eyes watery at the constant assault Viktor is giving your g-spot. Viktor kisses his teeth, “Put what in?” He cockily asks.

“Y-your cock. I want your cock in me. I want to fuck you into the bed. Please Viktor, please? I want it so bad… I need it…” You beg, your voice wobbly in your desire. Viktor growls low in his chest as removes his fingers from your pussy. “You're such a good girl, begging for me. C'mon sweetheart, I'm all yours.” With that, you ensure Viktor is comfortable as he sits up against the headboard, you saddle him and slowly sink onto his wonderful cock.

You gasp out a long drown out moan at the feeling. Viktor’s pushed right up against your g-spot, he’s stretching you out. Your pussy is moulding itself to Viktors cock, nothing else in this world will satisfy you now. One hand holds your waist as the other rubs your back.

“C’mon.” In a low, throaty voice, you moan. As if you had to use additional effort to get the words past your parted lips. Your voice is whiney and breathy. As if putting Viktors cock in you knocked all the air out of your lungs. When you lower yourself more, Viktor, who is rubbing your back with his free hand, feels something deep inside his gut tighten up a little more as you persistently try to fit the final few inches of his cock inside. You feel dizzy at that, you're so stuffed… and there’s a few inches more.

Needy. You're so fucking needy; and Viktor loves it.

He squeezes, quickly prickling your flesh beneath his fingertips into a supple hue. Viktor wishes he could mark you like that for good, wishes that squeezing hard enough would leave bruises and indents to last a lifetime. Last several lifetimes. Even if you aren't aware of it, you still attract admiring looks from other people, which irritates Viktor. Ever since you two were teens, people would look lecherously at you. And you never noticed. But at the mere thought of everyone seeing you so marked up, something wild, primal, and almost startlingly possessive gets hold of him. Even though Viktor would know who did it, they wouldn't.

They would question who defiled you so throughly; and not once in their tiny minds would they think Viktor “The Cripple” “The Weirdo” fucked you so good you're bow-legged for days. With a trail of hickeys down your neck and chest, red marks on your wrists and a glazed look in your eyes. Viktor needs to calm down, he’s getting ahead of himself.

Before he can stop himself, Viktor tangles his fingers into your sweaty, untidy hair. You shiver at the feeling. His hands are so strong, so beautiful to look at.

“Viktor! Please! Please let me move! I need it…”You beg. You've needed this since you were fifteen and you noticed how handsome Viktor was becoming.

You lean closer to Viktor, your tits close enough to his face he can easily suck a nipple into mouth. This small shift caused his cock to press even harder into your g-spot; making a long whine and a few tears to slip out of you. Seeing that causes Viktor to freeze a bit before asking, “Colour?” At that you desperately cry out a pathetic, “Green! Please!”

If Viktor had shown even a tiny bit less restraint, the pitiful little "please" that slips from your mouth might have killed him right there.

You start to bounce, a nipple still firmly in Viktor's mouth. One hand stays on your hip as the other tweaks your other nipple. You use the headboard as support to ride Viktor to your heart's content. Fuck his cock is huge, you swear you feel it in your lungs. You could've been doing this for ages. You pitifully whine at that thought; so much time wasted.

“You look so pretty like this, you know,” Viktor mumbles appraisingly as he lets your nipple go, rocking back and forth at an almost painfully slow pace, trying to give you even more pleasure. Your thighs are trembling, splattered with lube, sweat, and an unprecedented amount of wetness from your arousal. You make a tiny, barely there noise in response, pushing weakly back against him. Viktor holds you still. “So fucked out, just for me. So cock-drunk aren’t you? My little fucktoy. My good girl. My prettiest girl” Viktor showers praise on you, who just groans at the sweet attack.

You pull up as far as you can against Viktor’s strength, the head of his cock catching on the entrance to your pussy, before dropping back down aggressively and picking up a steady rhythm. Viktor lets out an appreciative moan at that. Fuck you feel so good. He's gonna become obsessed with your pussy after this. Viktor's head tilts back to rest against the headboard as he moans, you pepper hickeys all across his pale neck. He's not the only one with possessive tendencies.

You go faster and faster, rougher and harder with each bounce, but you still take into account Viktors weaker leg. You're both moaning, yours goes up a pitch when Viktor starts to rub your clit.

Viktor whispers into your ear as he ravages your pussy, “You like that? You slut. Do you like having my big cock stretch you out? Do you like me abusing your g-spot, moulding your pussy into the shape of my dick? Nothing else will ever satisfy you again, will it Pretty Girl? No. It won’t. You’ll be desperate to have my dick rearranging your guts again.”

You just moan and starts to cry at the whispered words alongside the pounding your pussy is getting. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter, you instinctively know you can’t cum without permission. So you ask,

“Viktor… Can I cum? Please? Can I cum?

Viktor just snarls at that, nipping your ear and slapping your ass with a heavy groan, “Oh fuck… you’re such a good girl aren’t you? Asking for permission to cum without me even having to telling you. Cum. Cum right fucking now.”

And you do. With a gush of liquid, you cum hard. Your body jerking, eyes rolling into the back of your head, with your mouth ajar in a silent moan that trickles down to a pleased whine. Viktor starts to fuck into you, wanting to cum too. You start to overstimulate yourself, desperate to feel Viktor cum.

Little “Uhs.” are punched out of you at each thrust due to the painful pleasure. In no time, Viktor cums too. His hips pressed flush against yours; his sharp hipbones causing a nice bruise to form. You both simultaneously moan at the feeling of Viktor pumping you full of his cum. The two lose their strength and flop down onto the bed.

You're cuddled up, now efficiently cockwarming Viktor. You're both our of breath, and immensely pleased.

“We should clean up.” Viktor pants, you giggle breathlessly, “I don't think I can move.”

The silence is comfortable, enjoyable. You’ve almost fallen asleep when Viktor casually states, “I love you. I've loved you since I was sixteen.”

You look up at him and give him a sweet smile, before pressing your lips together in a loving, passionate kiss, “and I've loved you since I was thirteen. Looks like I've got you beat.”

Viktor just chuckles as he runs a hand through your hair, “I'm exhausted. We’ll get cleaned up when we wake up.”

“I couldn't agree more. But I want a round two before that.”

“Seriously?!”

You slap Viktor's chest playfully, “We could've been doing this for a little over a decade. I'm making up for lost time!”

Viktor kisses your forehead and contently sighs, “Can’t argue with that miláček. Can't argue with that.”

With how vigorously you two went, it’s no surprise you fell asleep in a few minutes. Wrapped up together, as content as can be.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That's a wrap! Please be nice to me, I haven't written smut since like 2022-2023. Hope y'all liked it!

For the tattoo, search up “cybersigilism heart tramp stamp tattoo” on pinterest to see what kind of tramp stamp you got LMAO

#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane imagine #arcane smut #viktor imagine #viktor smut #viktor x reader #viktor x reader smut #fem!reader #banners by cafekitsune

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bunniehrtz · 4 months ago

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you almost instantly regret taking abby with you when you step into the store, the orange and purple decorations almost slapping you in the face. your hands slip behind your back as you cross your fingers, hoping and praying that abby just looks straight past it. hoping and praying that she doesn’t grab your arm, pulling you into the halloween section, cooing at the baby costumes, grimacing at the ugly little demon babies on tricycles that they call “decorations”.

“oh my god.”

your heart drops, your eyes close and you feel a hand on your arm.

“abigail. we really don’t have time to look through this right now. we have to pick up ivy in half an hour,” you sigh, biting back a smile at the way abby’s face lights up at all the spooky lights.

“baby, please. it won’t take long.”

who are you to say no to that face?

“oh my god. imagine vee in this!” abby picks up a small pumpkin outfit, shoving it in your face. you pout, taking it in your hands.

“oh, she’d look adorable. she does have the preschool party next week. we haven’t gotten her an outfit yet,” you can almost feel the grin on abby’s face as she realises that she’s getting her way. you roll your eyes playfully and throw it into the basket.

“baby, look. look at this. she needs more than one outfit! she has the party, and she needs more for trick or treating on halloween!” you can’t argue with abby. you find it hard to say no to her, anyways. abby picks up the small witch hat, her hands together in front of her chest, pleading, begging to put her daughter in a little witch costume. you nod, watching abby throw it into the basket.

“we still need to decide our costumes,” you sigh, looking through the endless amount of plastic skulls.

“oh, don’t you worry, sweet thing. i’ve got that covered,” abby sends you a wink, and gasps as she takes a cat costume for ivy off the rack. you’re going to be here for hours.

taglist @queenofmistresses @abigails-gf @abbysprettygiiirl @bambishaven @aouiaa

#she’s baaaaack #mama!abby #the last of us #abby anderson #tlou #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #the last of us abby

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ellieslob · 1 year ago

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★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop66

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

#ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou #the last of us

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jiminomenon · 9 days ago

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model! karina cheers assistant! reader up

pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader

word count: 1k+

summary: y/n was having an absolutely miserable morning, and everyone—including jimin—felt the effects of her foul mood. snapping at people left and right, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but of course, jimin had other plans. unwilling to deal with a sulky assistant all day, the spoiled model took it upon herself to fix y/n’s mood—whether she wanted her to or not.

from my series: the devil wears prada

y/n knew it was going to be a bad day the moment she woke up. her alarm didn’t go off, meaning she had to rush through her morning routine. her coffee machine—her lifeline—refused to work. then, as if the universe was out to get her, she stepped outside only to be met with pouring rain and no umbrella. by the time she arrived at jimin’s penthouse, drenched, exhausted, and running purely on frustration, she was already dangerously close to losing her patience.

“you’re late,” jimin commented, lounging on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee in her perfectly manicured hands. she didn’t even need coffee that morning; she just liked the aesthetic of holding it.

y/n shot her a sharp glare as she squeezed water out of her sleeves. “gee, thanks for the observation, sherlock.”

jimin raised an eyebrow at the attitude but didn’t say anything. yet.

the day only got worse from there. y/n had back-to-back calls, urgent emails, and a schedule to fix because someone (cough jimin cough) decided she didn’t feel like attending a certain shoot last minute. every little inconvenience grated on her nerves, and soon, she found herself snapping at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way.

even the model herself.

“ugh, can you stop hovering?” y/n snapped when jimin followed her into the kitchen, watching her struggle to open a stubborn bottle of water.

jimin, who usually had a snarky comeback for everything, simply tilted her head. “you’re in a bad mood.”

“no shit.”

instead of getting annoyed like usual, jimin just hummed. “hmm. i don’t like this.”

y/n scoffed. “well, i don’t like today, but here we are.”

jimin didn’t leave her alone after that. in fact, she made it her mission to pester y/n. during meetings, she’d text her ridiculous things like ‘what if i got bangs? do u think i’d look hotter?’ or ‘i saw a dog today. it was ugly. reminded me of you.’ ‘go get princess that new limited edition cat dress from givenchy’

when that didn’t work, she started physically annoying her—poking her arm, pulling on the sleeve of her blazer, even stealing her pen when she was trying to write something down.

“jimin, i swear to god—”

“oh, look at that. you’re saying my name now instead of ‘ms. yu.’ progress!” jimin smirked.

y/n groaned, rubbing her temples. “what do you want?”

“you, but less grumpy.”

“not happening.”

jimin gasped dramatically. “so mean. what happened to my lovely assistant?”

“she’s dead. may she rest in peace.”

but of course, jimin never knew how to give up. later in the afternoon, she disappeared for a while, only to return holding—of all things—y/n’s favorite pastry from that overpriced bakery she always talked about.

y/n blinked. “where did you get that?”

“doesn’t matter.” jimin placed it in front of her. “eat it.”

y/n frowned. “why are you being nice?”

jimin rolled her eyes. “i’m always nice.”

y/n snorted. “you’re never nice.”

“and yet, here i am, doing charity work by cheering up my grumpy little assistant.”

y/n stared at her, then at the pastry, then back at her. ugh. she hated to admit it, but… it was kind of sweet. with a sigh, she finally took a bite.

jimin watched her expectantly. “better?”

y/n chewed, pretending to think. “eh. a little.”

jimin smirked. “knew it.”

y/n shook her head but couldn’t fight the small smile forming on her lips. maybe today wasn’t completely terrible. as much as y/n hated to admit it, jimin’s efforts were helping. just a little. but she wasn’t about to give the bratty model that satisfaction so easily.

jimin, however, was relentless.

“so,” jimin started as she plopped down onto the couch beside y/n, far too close for comfort. “what else do i have to do to make you stop sulking? want me to book you a vacation? buy you a new car? oh, wait—maybe you want me to drive you around in said car. imagine that, ms. assistant, getting chauffeured by me.”

y/n shot her a deadpan look. “why do you sound like a rich old man trying to solve his problems with money?”

jimin gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in fake offense. “how dare you? i am far from an old man.”

“you have the attitude of one.”

jimin narrowed her eyes. “you really are in a mood today.”

y/n sighed and leaned back, rubbing her temples. “look, i appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but i just… i need some space, okay?”

jimin frowned. she didn’t like that answer. not one bit. y/n was hers to annoy, to pester, to keep close—space was not part of their arrangement. but instead of voicing her complaints, she stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

then, out of nowhere, she got up and disappeared into the other room. y/n didn’t think much of it at first—jimin was unpredictable like that. but a few minutes later, she returned with something in her hands.

a blanket.

before y/n could ask, jimin tossed it over her, making sure it covered her entire body.

“…what are you doing?” y/n mumbled from under the fabric.

“i’m tucking you in. obviously.”

“tucking me in? i’m not a child.”

jimin scoffed. “well, you’re acting like one.”

y/n huffed, but she was too exhausted to argue. the weight of the blanket was warm and oddly comforting. she peered up at jimin, who was looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

“…why are you being nice?” y/n finally asked.

jimin crossed her arms. “you’re annoying when you’re in a bad mood. and if this is what it takes to make you stop being annoying, then fine. i’ll allow it.”

y/n gave her a look. “wow. you really suck at being genuine.”

“and yet, here i am, taking care of your grumpy ass,” jimin quipped back.

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the tiny smile tugging at her lips. she sighed, finally letting the tension melt from her shoulders. maybe jimin’s ways were unconventional, but at the end of the day, she did make her feel better.

“thanks, i guess,” y/n muttered, barely audible.

jimin smirked. “huh? what was that?”

y/n groaned, pulling the blanket over her face. “don’t push it, yu.”

but the way jimin’s smirk softened into something almost fond did not go unnoticed.

“just rest for now, m’kay? be in a better mood when you wake up.”

#karina x reader #aespa karina #yoo jimin #yu jimin #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #karina #yoo jimin x reader #yu jimin x reader #model! karina #bratty! karina #tdwp

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angel-sweets666 · 9 months ago

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Cast me a spell

barbarian! Bakugo x witch Afab! reader one shot

A barbarian needs a spell to cause the downfall of his enemies, he found just the witch to do it

warnings: smut

chapter two here

a/n bro I just freestyled this 😭😭 btw I made it afab cuz it’s smut and I probs can’t write gay sex rn but everything else is gender neutral trust. Also this is my first time writing smut so please don’t judge 😭

Bakugo is aged up to 20

Bakugo groaned as he walked in forest, dry leaves and twigs snapping under his boot. Bakugo had been sent by his tribe to find a witch, a witch who would rig the war they were in and beat the other tribe. Bakugo didn’t know why he had to go, there were so many barbarian men who would go! Why’d it have to be him! The elders found him the strongest clearly, that’s got to be a good sign. Maybe he’ll inherit the chief title from his father…. Bakugo shook the thoughts away as he looked around for some kind of cabin, some sort of suggestion to show there is a witch out here like the elders say, maybe they’ll see bakugo is strong and worthy if he manages to make the witch come with him back to the tribe. Bakugo whistled while looking around, suddenly a fox came up to his legs and sat by him “what..? What do you want you pest” he tried to kick the fox, but the fox dodged it and used his head to tell bakugo to come with him “I’m not going with a fox forget it.”

bakugo continued walking before the fox yelped out and four more foxes appeared, all different colours. What stood out to him was how one fox seemed to have a light purple almost lavender colour, the sun made it difficult to see however “huh..? No I don’t trust no fo- OUCH!” Bakugo yelped as all 5 foxes bit him and tried to drag him too the other way “fine! Fine! I’ll follow you..” bakugo grumbled, seemingly annoyed. The foxes let go and began to lead bakugo down a pathway, he began to see fruits and vegetables being grown on a sort of farm. Bakugo at first thought that the foxes were leading him to a farmer and this was some sort of advertisement but he was proved wrong when he saw a fairy dust like powder float above the crops and then be placed ontop, making the crops grow almost twice their size and look healthier. Then he noticed the clearly unnatural cloud of rain water the plants, it was so close to the ground that there was no way it was natural. It just hovered over the crops in a neat line. Then the natural sun seemed to do some good. Bakugo noticed that the creatures seemed to look more mythical the further he went, once black birds were now beautiful shades of blue, pink, yellow ect. Cats and bunnies around began to come up in more colourful shades too, bright blue and green eyes watching. Now the flowers had a glow, they were all gold and sparkling. Everything looked unnatural and non normal…mythical, almost fairy tail like… he began to hear the humming of a person he was preparing for a ugly hag.. but no, a beautiful person with a equally as mythical look to them! You! A fox went up the To you and you got on your knees to “hear” what it had to say, then… you looked up at bakugo

“what are you needing…?” You asked him as you raised to your feet “I.. Uhm… I need something, my tribe actually. My tribe needs something” he informed you “needs… needs what?” You began to walk towards bakugo “a bad luck spell.. something like that. We’re at war and…” “you want me to rig it..?make ‘em loose?” You interrupted him “how’d you know…?” Bakugo was shocked “I know this stuff, now.. do you want them to loose..?” You asked softly and he nodded “I think.. I think I have just the thing, come inside” you used your finger to motion him to come inside. You began to mix up a potion, full of that gold flower, the fairy dust like powder, a couple fruits, some other unknown ingredients ect… you put it in a bottle that while it looked small, could fit a whole tribes worth of water. Then you stepped towards a book shelf, looking through the spell books available to you. You made a “ah” sound and then pulled a dusty book, blowing the dust off. “Do you have anything of the uh.. other sides” you asked him “like their hair or some shit?” He asked aggressively “that could work, clothes, arrows they shot, accessories, blood. Anything that come from the other team”

Bakugo thought for a moment, “uh… I have a piece of one of their swords” he pulled a bloodied peice of metal out from one of his pockets, dried blood falling off and onto his fingers “that works!” You grabbed the piece of metal and placed it by an unlit candle, grabbing a match and lighting it. You reached over to light the candle and then sat by the candle and began to whisper something, like a prayer. “What are you doing?” He asked, you ignored him and continued your whispering “answer me” he grumbled, you looked at him then closed your eyes again. Once again continuing your whispering, after a couple of minutes you finished and slowly stood back up “doing a spell, as per you asked.” You grabbed the glass bottle full of the potion “you feed these to your armies, you’ll be strong enough and the war will be over in a day or two” you said quietly to him as you placed the bottle into his hand, and closed his hand for him. “What would it taste like?” He asked “like water, what do you think?” You leaned your weight onto one hip “I don’t know, like shit?” He rolled his eyes “don’t get an attitude with me” you got up into his face “who are you talking to like that?” He grumbled “you obviously” you chuckled then walked off. Grabbing herbs and other stuff, clearly organising stuff “what you just going to stand there?” You asked, wondering if he was going to leave anytime soon, looking over your shoulder at him. “Could you come back with me? To my tribe?” He asked with his typical rough deep voice “why would I do that?” You placed books in a wooden book shelf “we need your help” “I’ve already helped you haven’t I?” “Just do it.” He grumbled at you, grabbing your shoulder “mmmm no” you said

in pure frustration with you bakugo picked you up and threw you over his shoulder “oi! Why’d you do that!” You kicked in an attempt to get away from him “get over it princess” he chuckled as he pushed the door open with his body and then walked you in the forests back to his tribe, holding your body over his shoulder and your legs down with his arms to prevent you from kicking him “out me down put me down!” You screamed as you yanked at his hair, he didn’t notice nor did he care. “Will you be good and not walk off? You’ll follow me?” He asked as his ego got larger and larger “ughhhhhh fine!”you agreed, he leaned down and placed you down onto the ground “you owe me, I rigged a tribal war for you” you said with a obvious attitude “oh yeah? What do I owe you? A animal? Weird ingredients for your freaky potions? A quest? Sex? A man from my tribe once had to sleep with a witch for potions” he listed off his ideas “why would I sleep with you? Your egos probably bigger than your dick.” You crossed your arms in frustration “someone’s got an attitude” bakugo playfully shoved you “don’t even.”

you went back to bakugos tribe, he gave his tribe the potion you gave them, the war just like you said was over in a day. You ended up having to follow bakugo around because you didn’t know anyone else as well, you eventually had gotten used to the change, by the sixth month of living there you were considered one of them. I’ve had atleast 50 people come up to me asking if your my spouse/wife/husband” he said while you two were going for a walk “well lucky I’m not” you chuckled “maybe you should be, I’ll need a wife/spouse/husband when I become chief” you blushed deeply “w-w-what..?”you stuttered “it’s true, they don’t let people who aren’t married be chief. I’m next in line to be chief and I’m not married” he informed you “are you trying to propose to me? You’ve known me a whole of 6 months!” You said in surprise “my parents got married after 3” “is that like a cultural thing?” You asked “yeah… the other tribes get married after a later time, I guess this is what we’ve always done, we done need to love each other, just so I become chief.” He says “so this is a proposal?” Your eyebrows raised “yes I suppose it is.” Bakugo grumbled “I’ll think about it”

you laid in bed that night as you stared at the roof of your hut, thinking about what bakugo said. You slowly rolled out of bed and put some shoes and stumbled out of your wooden hut and looked towards bakugos hut, the light from his windows suggest he was still awake. You slowly walk towards his hut, the sound of grass beneath your feet. Most huts were dark, a way to say the people in them were asleep; not bakugo though. Bakugo stayed up late training. You knocked on bakugos door, you could hear him put something down then walk towards the door; he opened the door and he looked down towards you “oh.. hello” he said in surprise “I Uhm…whatcha doing?” “Working out, your supposed to be asleep” he furrowed his eyebrows “yeah I know but I can’t sleep” you said as you walked into his hut, flopping onto his bed “don’t get too comfy there” he sat down next to you “your beds comfier then mine though….” You whined and got yourself buried into his bed sheets, he sneakily wrapped an arm around you “what are you doing..?” You asked him “nothing..” he said with a smile “your really trying when it comes to this whole getting married thing..” you whispered to him, his hand reached for your hips “maybe I am…. Maybe I’m not” he sighed and rubbed your side. You rolled over to lean on his chest a bit, you used light magic to make fire flies appear, having a sort of light show appear. Bakugo watched it and smiled “have you always been able to do that..?” He asked “since I was around 8 maybe…” you replied, bakugo reached into your shirt, softly rubbing your chest. You whimpered softly, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your neck. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly “no…” you replied.

you slowly wiggled out of your bottoms, he watched you do it from above. He smiled softly at the sight. “Should we just get straight at it?” He asked softly as he unbuckled his belt, an obvious buldge in his pants. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him “just be a good girl him?” He grumbled and managed to pull his pants down and pulled his member out “tell me if it hurts bub” he says softly “okay.. yeah I can do that” you nodded, you felt him slowly push inside of your body. He let out a slight grunt, you bit down on your bottom lip. He eventually bottomed out which didn’t take long due to the size of his length. “C-can I uh… mmph.. m-move now..?” He whined softly “mhm..” you whines and spread your legs a little bit wider for more access to your body. He slowly pulled out almost all the way only for him to push back in, you yelped and wrapped your arms around his neck. Burying your face into his neck while he thrusted into you, stretching you out. It had been a while since either of you had done something like this so it was obvious why he was so needy. He gripped your waist softly and eventually found a pace that both of you found pleasurable. You let out a moan as he began to go a bit faster with you, the tip of him tapping against your cervix, the knot in your belly began to tighten suggesting the fact you were getting close “mmph..” he whimpered as he buried his face into your neck, you reached up to pet his hair. You moaned and whined. Eventually his thrusted became sloppy and more like he was chasing his own climax, the knot in your tummy threatened to burst and eventually… it did. The warmth of his cum going inside you was a comforting feeling

“you know maybe I will marry you…”

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brokenpieces-72 · 3 months ago

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Nightmare Comfort

Note: So when I made the poll for the missing part of the gangster au, I got 20% of people who wanted both, and then the nightmare comfort and normal release were an even split of 40%. So you're getting both.

TW: Violence, interrogation, nightmare, blood, let me know if I miss anything

“Fuck…” you groan.

“You’re a little shit.” Nolan grunts, spitting. “You want me to get ugly?”

“You were being pretty?” You question, trying to hide the amount of pain in your voice.

You hear a gun cock. Your blood goes cold. You go very still. “Tell me where!”

“I swear to fuck I don’t fucking know!”

“Tell me where Makarov’s file is!” He yells.

“I don’t fucking know!!”

BANG

You bolt upright in bed, clutching your chest, wincing from the bandage. In the darkness you see the shape of the stray scurrying away from the bed. You're in a cold sweat as you take deep breathes, trying to steady and ground yourself. You toss back the blankets, and hurry out of your room. The living space is barren so you hurry to their rooms, cracking their doors open. Gaz, Soap, Price and Ghost are asleep. Your heart is still beating hard though. A dream... all a dream.

You wish it were only a dream. The truth is Nolan had done a number on you and the marks were there to stay. You were reckless and didn’t take care of yourself. If Alex and Charly hadn’t made it in time you’d be dead. Dead over something that didn’t exist. You could’ve lost everyone who was asleep right now. They wouldn’t be in safe beds, they would be in the water.

You’re not gonna be going back to sleep anytime soon, so you curled up on the couch instead. The cat curls up with you. The pain is still there, the weapons are in your mind despite never seeing them. You can’t help yourself from imagining the others in the same state as you were. Your bruises were still visible, you’d seen them when you’d got to take a shower. Too soon for a pain killer since your last.

You absently pet the cat, as the dark apartment remains still around you. Very slowly your eyes drift close, and you aren’t about to bother moving. Too cozy where you are. If anyone could come through the door you could be ready. But sleep consumes you easily enough.

When Simon woke up he went to the kitchen and saw you on the couch. You were groaning softly, the cat having already hopped away. Ghost noticed you started to toss and turn. Coffee could wait. He went over to you instead as you started to get louder. Simon started to shake you awake.

You awoke and went to attack the random figure that had appeared at your side, seemingly out of nowhere. Ghost was faster, catching your wrists, but his instincts were faster than him. He ended up pushing your wrists and almost getting on top of you. With the darkness you could quite make him out, and are about to call for help. He uses a hand to cover your mouth.

"It's me!" He says, voice low and gravelly. You stop using your free hand to try and shover him off as you start coming back to reality. Your hard breathing starts to slow and soften while your heart pounds in your chest. Ghost stares down at you wait for you to steady yourself. As Ghost's weight on top of you starts to ground you, you also start to wince. Eventually the soreness is hard to bear, so you pull his hand off.

"You're on my bad leg." You whisper. Simon doesn't get off but readjusts himself, so the weight of his knee isn't pressing on anything sensitive. You do a small check around the dark room. God what time is it? Early probably. You can't make out any of the digital clocks from the couch. You don't notice Simon is still staring at you.

"Broken?" He asks after a moment of you two just breathing and waiting.

"No." you answer. Your head was hurting though. Ghost got off of you, letting you sit up. You stretch because the couch, while comfy isn't exactly great on your back.

"What are you doing out here?" Ghost asks, keeping his voice down. You shrug.

"No reason." You say. "Couch is comfy."

Ghost can tell you're lying. He's worried about you. Being a cop couldn't have been easy, he knows you've been fired a gun before. Seeing Makarov point a gun at your already beaten and weakened state nearly set him off. Ghost has to remind himself that you're not a child anymore, not some naive rookie. By now you had a good enough taste of this life to be taken seriously. After everything that has happened, that you caused he also knows you don't want to be a problem. Joining them, you crossed plenty of bridges, but by now you've burned quite a few.

Simon sits next to you on the couch, and you can feel it sink to his weight. He debates talking to you about how you're not alone, and never have to be. Sure he's private but you don't have to be. The whole Nolan thing was this life rearing it's ugly head.

Regardless you need rest. Those injuries aren't gonna heal if you're thrashing around in your sleep. Simon stands and offers his hand to hekp you. "Get up."

You do as he says and he sits down in your spot. He gently tugs you back down on the couch, but you feel him moving you around. You realize he's reclined on the sofa and is laying you on top of him.

"Ghost what ar-"

"Lay down." He orders. You don't argue and do as he says. Why was your face warm? Why was he so warm? "Close your eyes, try to sleep."

You try lifting your head so you can question him, but he pulls your head back down to his chest. You can feel his heart beating, calm and steady. Man, talk about a big step. Ghost went from standing in a corner in the same room as you, to being your comfort pillow.

"Don't you have stuff to do?" You asked.

"Not really. I wake up early out of habit." Ghost said, his voice low. "Used to do it to avoid my father, a run in the mornings, go to school, work, etc."

"Your father?" You asked, rolling over on to your stomach. Ghost sighed and pulled your head back down. Why did he let that out? Guess it was easier to tell you now, otherwise you'd probably go searching for answers on your own. Better to hear the truth from him. By now he'd told Johnny and Price, Laswell had seen the reports, you probably had too. Something about your weight on top of him made him feel he should air out some issues, if only so you understand who you were sleeping with... there was a better way to phrase that.

"Learned I shouldn't call him that. He used bring in wild animals to scare me, an addict, and would encourage my brother to do the same." Ghost listed off. A brother too? You wondered if any of the others had siblings they didn't talk about. "Abused me and my mother."

There was a span of silence as if he'd told you the whole story and was letting you sit with it. You'd seen a few abuse cases, that had resulted in murder, from both sides. Sometimes the victim fought back and other times the abuse got deadly. You felt like there was more than what Ghost was telling you. Ghost was a private man, so maybe he just didn't want to say anything more. You let yourself relax into him. Simon isn't one to act violently without cause.

A hand drifts to your head, calloused fingers playing with your hair. The sound of your hair being played with and Simon's heartbeat filled the otherwise quiet ambience of the room. Did he think you were asleep already? How much time had passed since he finished telling you what his dad was like? You couldn't help but feel the rest of the story was important. Thinking of what he's told you and where Simon was now, there were a few blanks. You couldn't think of the right question to ask next.

"Is that how you met my dad? Calling the cops on him?" You asked quietly. Simon is still quiet.

"No." He said, and the hand that was in your hair, was resting on your neck. His hands are a little cold. Simon's thumb over your soft neck is soothing for both of you. "He's dead. Killed him after he killed my mother."

Now it's your turn to be quiet. Simon killing his father. You could see it. There was motive too. It wasn't something you wanted to pry open further. With how calm Simon was, you assumed it must have gone far deeper, and his mother's death was the final straw. You thought back to when you came to live at the hideout for the first night, and the stray that had practically become the house pet. Simon's comment about black cats being targeted simply for their fur colour. Hated simply for something you can't control. As you lay there you there you felt the urge to say something, the statement lingering in the air awkwardly.

"Thank you." You said. Thank you. Thank you? Wow that's all you can think to say? You don't even know why you said it, whether it was for his comfort, his acceptance of you, or for killing his piece of shit father. It was a mix.

"Go to sleep." Simon grumbled, and his thumb stroked the back of your neck. You stretched as much as you could without hurting Simon or yourself, before shutting your eyes again.

Kyle woke up and came out to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks immediately once he saw you and Ghost on the couch. Kyle debated backtracking to his room, not wanting to disrupt... whatever this was exactly. At least he hadn't turned on the kitchen light yet. Before Kyle could think of a next step though, Simon spotted him. Simon nodded.

"Are they okay?" He asked quietly.

"They are now." Simon answered.

"I'll go pick up breakfast." Kyle said, returning to his room to get a jacket. He wasn't going to interrupt this moment. Kyle left without another word, intending to get the usual.

Price had slept in a bit, needing some extra recovery time himself. There were no plans until everything calmed down, and Makarov played his next hand. Kyle sent him a text saying he was picking up breakfast. Price hoped Kyle at least put the kettle on before he left.

When Price got changed and came out to get something to drink he found you still sleeping on Ghost's chest. Was that what Simon meant when he said you were a cat? Ghost gave his boss the same nod as he did with Kyle, and Price returned it.

"Painkillers or nightmares?" Price asked.

"Bit a' both." Simon said. "Told her about my record a bit."

It was his tale to tell, and Price wasn't about to put any restraints on what Simon could and couldn't say. Price didn't talk about Simon, because there wasn't anything people needed to know about him. Simon was plenty old enough to decide what he wanted people to know about him.

"Much sleep?" He asked. Simon shrugged. He hadn't been keeping track. Price checked the clock and decided to head out for his morning coffee. The kettle would wake you like an alarm clock. You needed more rest.

Of course Johnny came out and saw the scene, the earliest rays of the morning giving a low light to the space. He paused mid step and Simon looked up at him. Like Kyle he debated going back to his room.

"You two want privacy?" He asked.

"We're fine Johnny." Ghost said, rolling his eyes. Then Johnny took his phone out. Before he could take the photo, Simon stared him down. Johnny looked up, and his cheeky grin disappeared.

"They're sleeping. Don't make me get up." Simon warned. Johnny raised his hands and stepped back. Okay. He'll just chill in his room until breakfast comes.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @theotheronedotorg

#cod au #john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod gangster au #gn reader #nightmares #nightmare comfort #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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brunchable · 4 months ago

Text

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆. 《 Chapter 2: Figaro The Sleuth. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: Smelling another cat's scent on his owner, Figaro took it upon himself to investigate. Fourdays later, Y/N found herself back at Sarah's apartment where she unfortunately have to ask Bucky is she could borrow some hot sauce. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. I hope I tagged everyone? Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @ khaer for the divider.

Figaro had a new plan today: track down the intriguing scent he’d picked up on his owner. After his daring escape from the penthouse, he trotted purposefully down the street, trailing the scent until it led him to a familiar building—one he’d noticed you visiting before. He circled around, spotting an open ground-floor window with a fire escape leading up to it. With a practiced leap, he made his way to the windowsill and peered inside.

There, lounging on the other side of the window, was the white cat he’d been tracking. She was pristine, her fur gleaming as she carefully groomed herself, completely unbothered by his presence. Figaro tilted his head, studying her for a moment before he gave a soft, questioning chirp.

Alpine paused mid-groom, her icy blue eyes sliding over to meet his with a hint of disdain. She stared at him for a long moment before slowly stretching, as if to say, And who do you think you are?

Figaro didn’t back down, flicking his tail in a friendly, if smug, greeting. Figaro, he replied, his eyes scanning the cozy room behind her. You must be the reason my human came home smelling like… this place.

Alpine blinked, then raised a delicate paw, resuming her grooming as if he hadn’t even spoken. Oh? she drawled, looking entirely unbothered. And you’ve come all this way to investigate a little scent? How curious.

Figaro’s whiskers twitched with amusement. Let’s just say I have a nose for… mysteries. And last I checked, my human doesn’t usually come home with traces of other cats all over her.

Alpine tilted her head, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, there was no other woman she slept on except you. Your human happens to have a very cozy chest, she said coolly. Can’t blame a cat for taking advantage. She paused, her icy gaze sharp. In fact, you should be grateful.

Grateful? Figaro echoed, tilting his head. Why exactly?

Alpine gave him a level stare, her tail flicking with amusement. If it weren’t for me, your precious human would’ve had the cops called on her. My human doesn’t take too kindly to… unexpected guests.

Figaro’s eyes widened, and he gave an involuntary twitch. Cops? he muttered, momentarily thrown off his cool facade. He quickly recovered, looking her over with renewed respect—and mild suspicion. Alright, maybe I owe you one.

Alpine returned to grooming her paw, feigning indifference. Yes, she replied with a graceful flick of her tail. You do.

Figaro sat, tail curling neatly around his paws, trying to look nonchalant. You don’t exactly seem like the… charitable type.

Alpine finally met his gaze directly, her icy blue eyes narrowing. Maybe I’m just better at making friends than you are. She gave a dainty sniff, her nose twitching. I noticed you took the fire escape. Not exactly… refined, is it?

Figaro let out a soft huff, unimpressed. Refined? I’m practical, Snowball.

Alpine’s ears flicked at the nickname, but she didn’t rise to it. Instead, she leaned forward, her gaze assessing. You can call it whatever you like, Figaro. But from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m running things here.

They stayed like that, locked in a silent stare-down, each refusing to break eye contact first. Finally, Figaro let his shoulders relax, flicking his tail in what almost seemed like an invitation.

Alright, Fancy Paws, he said, stepping back a bit on the ledge, but don’t think I’m letting you off easy. I’ll be around, keeping an eye on you.

Alpine gave a dismissive flick of her tail, already turning her back on him. Suit yourself, Figaro. But if you insist on loitering around my window, at least try not to mess up the view.

Figaro held his ground a moment longer, watching Alpine with an air of suspicion and intrigue before turning to leave. Just as he took a step back, the sound of footsteps approached. Alpine’s ears flicked toward the door, but she stayed still, her eyes narrowing at Figaro with a smug, unbothered gaze. Figaro, sensing a disturbance, glanced sideways, only to freeze as the towering figure of Bucky appeared in the doorway, staring directly at them.

Bucky squinted, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. "Well, well, what do we have here? Alpine, making friends, are we?"

Alpine gave Bucky a dismissive flick of her tail, as if to say, You’re interrupting. She turned her head slightly, clearly unimpressed by his sudden interest in her business.

Figaro, meanwhile, stared up at Bucky with wide eyes, frozen mid-step on the windowsill. Who's this guy? he thought, sizing up the new human with a cautious flick of his tail.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking between the two cats, and then down at Figaro. "You lost, buddy? Or are you trying to start some kinda turf war?"

Figaro sat down, trying to look as dignified as possible, though the tip of his tail twitched with irritation. Turf war? he thought indignantly. I don’t fight over territory; I’m above that.

Alpine let out a low, amused mrrr, watching Figaro’s attempt to keep his cool. Bucky noticed and shook his head, chuckling.

“Looks like Alpine’s not too impressed with you, pal,” he muttered, addressing Figaro with a smirk.

Slowly, Bucky crouched down and extended his hand toward Figaro, palm up and open, giving him a chance to sniff. Figaro gave Bucky a wary once-over, then cautiously leaned forward, taking a whiff of the offered hand.

After a moment, he deemed the human acceptable and rubbed his head against Bucky’s fingers, allowing himself to be petted. Bucky grinned, running his fingers along Figaro’s head and scratching just behind his ears.

"Not bad for a visitor, huh?" he murmured, watching as Figaro leaned into the scratch, clearly enjoying the attention.

Once Figaro had gotten his fill, he stepped back, giving Bucky a cool, satisfied look, as if to say, You may continue.

Bucky watched this with mild amusement, shaking his head.

“Alright, tuxedo,” he said, nodding toward Figaro. “Why don’t you head home before Alpine here decides you’re overstaying your welcome?”

Alpine lifted her nose in smug agreement, casting Figaro a sideways glance as if to say, You heard him.

Figaro shot her a pointed look, not backing down. I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, he thought defiantly, but he knew when he was outnumbered. With a haughty flick of his tail, he turned to make his exit, sauntering slowly toward the window as if he had all the time in the world.

Bucky crossed his arms, watching the tuxedo cat make his grand departure.

“Yeah, you walk out of here like you own the place,” he muttered with a smirk, glancing at Alpine. “What is it with you and making new friends?”

Alpine gave him a single blink, cool and unbothered, her gaze following Figaro’s departure as if evaluating his exit strategy.

As Figaro disappeared down the fire escape, Bucky shook his head, half to himself. “This is what I get for leaving the window open. Next thing I know, there’ll be a whole parade of fancy-pants cats lining up for you.”

Alpine sat up, eyes following the retreating Figaro with a glint of satisfaction before she returned to her spot, grooming her paw as though nothing had happened.

Bucky watched her, chuckling softly. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re a real heartbreaker, aren’t you, Alpine?”

Alpine ignored him, flicking her tail just enough to indicate her complete and utter satisfaction with the encounter. She was, after all, a cat with standards.

× × × ×

Three days later, you found yourself sitting in a restaurant so lavish it looked more like a set for a movie than a place to have dinner. Soft candlelight flickered across the polished marble tables, casting a warm glow on the extravagant decor that screamed exclusivity. The maître d' had known Rhys by name, pulling out your chair as if you were royalty. It was the kind of place that made you feel like you needed to hold your breath just to fit in.

Earlier that day, your office had practically turned into a florist’s shop when an oversized bouquet of roses—deep red and fragrant—showed up on your desk. It wasn’t just one bouquet, either; it was a veritable mountain of roses, nestled in some kind of ornate, hand-painted ceramic vase. The card was short and simple: “Dinner tonight? 8 PM.”

Now here you were, seated across from him, watching as he signaled for the sommelier with a single, graceful nod. Rhys didn’t bother looking at you as he ordered a bottle of something with an Italian name, smooth-talking the waiter in a way that made you roll your eyes. He finally turned back to you, offering a soft, knowing smile, like he could sense your doubts and was ready to soothe them.

“Look, I know things got… a little off the other night,” he began, reaching across the table to take your hand. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and he looked at you with that careful sincerity that had always been hard to resist. “I hate it when we’re not on the same page. You mean so much to me, and I wanted tonight to remind you of that. You deserve this, babe.”

You managed a polite smile. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before: a grand gesture, an expensive dinner, and words that, despite their warmth, somehow felt rehearsed. Last time, it had been diamond earrings. The time before that, a weekend getaway to Paris that he’d spent glued to his phone, disappearing to “handle some things” every few hours.

The sommelier arrived with the wine, pouring a small taste for Rhys, who swirled it with the grace of a practiced connoisseur. He took a sip, nodded approvingly, and gestured for the waiter to pour the full glasses.

“Perfect,” he said softly, as though he’d picked it himself, and turned his gaze back to you. “So, what do you say we start fresh?”

You tilted your head, studying him, hoping for something genuine in his expression. But there was nothing new. Just that same easy charm, the kind he wore effortlessly.

“Rhys…” you started, trying to find the right words.

He gently squeezed your hand, tilting his head slightly, his expression one of calm understanding.

“Hey, babe, listen. I know I messed up, alright?” His voice was tender, soothing. “But can’t we just put it behind us? I’m right here, with you, doing everything I can to make it up. Doesn’t that mean something?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back, looking at you with an almost expectant patience, as if waiting for you to see reason. You forced a smile, telling yourself that it was fine, that maybe you were overthinking things. Relationships took work, right? And you loved him… didn’t you?

As your dinner arrived, he launched into a story about his latest business meeting, rattling off names of people he expected you to be impressed by, and you nodded along, offering the occasional polite laugh. But the small alarms in your mind wouldn’t stop ringing. Rhys didn’t really ask about your day, or your work—he never had. And if he did, you knew he’d be glancing at his phone before you finished, acting engaged but never quite listening.

“So, how about a weekend away?” he said suddenly, his eyes sparkling with that warm look he reserved for moments like these. “Just you and me, away from all this work stress.”

You looked at him, nodding, even as a part of you screamed that this wasn’t right. But the lure of another apology, another expensive night out, dulled the doubts, and you pushed the thoughts aside.

It was easier that way.

As the waiter cleared the last of the plates, Rhys stood and held out his hand, offering that practiced smile. "Shall we?"

You nodded, slipping your hand into his as he led you out to the valet station, where you waited for the chauffeur to pull up. The evening air was cool, and you were tempted to lean back and close your eyes, but a movement caught your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Bucky walking by, his stride casual and confident, accompanied by a woman with a striking red braid. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly ducked behind Rhys, hoping to blend into the background.

Rhys, however, turned, confusion in his eyes as he looked down at you. "What are you doing?"

“Stay still!” you hissed, pressing closer to him and peeking over his shoulder.

“Why?” he asked, craning his neck to look at whatever had made you react this way. Before you could stop him, he turned completely, exposing you from behind him.

You let out a panicked whisper. "Rhys, stop moving!"

Thoroughly confused, Rhys spun around again, only to reveal you once more as you scrambled to hide on his other side.

“What are you—? Seriously, just stay put!” you whispered fiercely, holding his arm tightly and ducking behind him again, your cheek pressed against his back.

Rhys, looking even more baffled, twisted once more to try and figure out what on earth had you acting this way. “But why—?”

“Oh my god, just stay still!” you muttered, exasperated, as he finally held himself steady, though his eyes continued darting around, searching for whatever mystery threat you seemed to be hiding from.

As Bucky and Nat walked past, still engrossed in their conversation, you held your breath, ducking even lower and gripping Rhys’s arm like a lifeline. Nat laughed at something Bucky said, and you couldn't help but notice their casual, easy camaraderie as they walked by. You felt your heart pound as you willed yourself to blend into Rhys’ back.

Rhys finally exhaled, rolling his eyes as he watched them move down the street, oblivious to the scene.

“Whoever you’re hiding from is gone,” he remarked, his gaze lingering a bit as he tracked Bucky’s figure down the sidewalk. Then he turned back to you, a bemused smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. "Happy now?”

You straightened, smoothing your dress as if nothing had happened, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Yes, actually," you replied coolly, though your heart still raced. You could feel Rhys’s curious gaze on you, but you ignored it, simply hoping you’d managed to avoid a real meet-awkward.

× × × ×

The elevator doors slid open into your penthouse, and before you could fully step inside, Rhys’s lips were on yours, his hands wrapping gently yet firmly around your waist. He kissed you with tenderness, pulling you closer as he nudged you backward. You found yourself responding out of habit, but as his hands started to roam, a flicker of doubt stirred within you.

Your hand pressed gently against his chest, breaking the kiss. “Rhys… I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He paused, his expression softening as he pulled back, a look of quiet and heavy disappointment in his eyes.

"Oh," he murmured, running a hand down your arm as though trying to be considerate. “It’s okay,” he said softly, offering a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just… I miss you sometimes, you know?”

A twinge of guilt pricked at you as he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I mean," he continued, his voice taking on a gentle tone, “I get that you’re tired. I just thought we’d have some time for each other tonight, that’s all.”

You felt yourself wavering, the familiar tug of guilt making you second-guess yourself. But as his hand reached for yours again, you gently pressed both of your palms to his chest, holding him at a distance.

“It’s been a long day, alright?” you said, almost apologetically. “I’m just… not feeling it.”

Rhys gave a small, understanding nod, though his face betrayed a hint of hurt.

"Yeah, no, I understand," he replied, though there was a faint edge of disappointment in his voice. “You’re probably right. I mean, we just don’t seem to connect like we used to, do we?” He gave a soft, wistful smile, brushing a thumb over your hand. "Maybe it's just me."

Before you could respond, a low growl echoed from across the room. You glanced over to see Figaro, your tuxedo cat, perched on top of the bookshelf, his yellow eyes fixed on Rhys with an intensity that made your heart swell a little. Figaro leapt down gracefully, landing on the floor and taking a protective stance in front of you, tail flicking as he let out another warning growl.

Rhys looked at Figaro and forced a small chuckle, but you caught the faint flash of annoyance in his eyes.

“Well, at least someone’s looking out for you,” he said lightly, though his smile was tight. He took a step back, fixing his shirt with a sigh. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then. Don’t worry about me."

Without waiting for a response, he gave you a small, lingering look before turning and striding out, letting the door click shut behind him. You let out a long breath, glancing down at Figaro, who was still sitting protectively at your feet, a soft meow escaping him as his fierce stance melted, and he looked up at you with wide, inquisitive eyes.

You crouched down to his level, reaching out to scratch behind his ears.

“Thanks for the backup, Fig,” you murmured, smiling as he tilted his head into your hand, clearly relishing the attention. “You’re such a good bodyguard, aren’t you?”

Figaro gave you a quiet chirp in response, almost as if he understood. Then, with an air of determination, he began sniffing at your clothes, his nose twitching as he moved closer, inspecting every inch of fabric. You chuckled, catching on quickly.

“Oh, I get it,” you said, amused. “You’re checking for Alpine’s scent again, aren’t you?”

Figaro paused mid-sniff, blinking up at you as if he’d been caught in the act. Then, with a haughty little flick of his tail, he resumed his mission, sticking his nose right into the sleeve of your blazer.

“It’s been three days, buddy. I haven’t seen Alpine since I… well, you know,” you said, laughing a bit at the memory. Figaro gave a soft meow, clearly still suspicious, and continued his inspection. “Don’t worry, she’s just a friend. I wouldn’t replace you,” you added, scratching under his chin as he leaned into your touch, still purring.

Finally, after a few more sniffs, he seemed satisfied, giving an approving chirp as he headbutted your hand, claiming you for himself. Figaro then climbed into your lap, purring loudly as he nestled himself comfortably, his paws kneading gently as he curled into you, pressing his head against your chest as if to say, You’re mine.

You sighed, leaning back into the couch and smiling down at him. “Alright, alright, it’s just us tonight, then. Think you can keep me company?”

Figaro blinked up at you, eyes half-closed in contentment, letting out a soft purr as if to answer, Always.

As you sat with Figaro purring contentedly in your lap, your phone buzzed with a new message. You picked it up to see a text from Sarah:

Sarah: Hey! How’s the new life as CEO? Keeping everyone in line?

You smiled, typing back a quick response.

You: Barely! But let’s just say I’m becoming best friends with caffeine.

A moment later, your phone buzzed again.

Sarah: Atta girl! Listen, tomorrow night? Chicken and beer, my place?

You grinned, feeling a wave of relief at the idea of a low-key night with your best friend.

You: Sounds perfect. See you then!

Sarah’s reply came almost instantly.

Sarah: Great! And don’t get lost ;)

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at the reminder, scratching Figaro’s ears as he nuzzled into you. “Haha, very funny.”

× × × ×

You clutched an empty hot sauce bottle close to your chest, heart racing from more than just the unfortunate loss at rock-paper-scissors with Sarah. She had grinned wickedly, all too delighted that you’d be the one asking Bucky for a favor. And now, here you were, standing outside his door, staring at the peephole like it was some sort of intimidating abyss.

Why am I so nervous? It’s just hot sauce, for crying out loud. You chewed on your thumbnail, whispering to yourself as you rehearsed what you’d say when he opened the door. “Hey, Bucky, I, uh… ran out of hot sauce. Well, technically Sarah ran out of hot sauce, and now here I am…”

Taking a deep breath, you gathered what little courage you had, then knocked softly.

Almost immediately, you heard his voice through the door. “Hold on a sec.”

Your pulse spiked, and you scrambled to fix yourself up, smoothing your hair, adjusting your shirt, and trying to look as casual as possible—despite the butterflies in your stomach. It’s just hot sauce. Just. Hot. Sauce.

The door swung open, and there he was, looking every bit as annoyed as someone whose night had just been interrupted. Bucky was dressed down in a gray hoodie and sweatpants, with reading glasses perched on his nose, as if he’d been in the middle of something far more important than your quest for condiment rescue. He took one look at the bottle in your hand and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Seriously?” he muttered, voice low and gruff. “Can’t stay away?”

You forced a grin, trying to seem unfazed by his tone, though your heart was doing a wild dance in your chest.

“Couldn’t stay away,” you managed, waggling the empty bottle in the air. “Actually, I’m here on behalf of Sarah, who—shockingly—managed to run out of hot sauce.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you, then down at Alpine, who had already trotted over to you, purring as she wove around your legs. He sighed, the tiniest bit of a smile tugging at his mouth, though his expression stayed mostly unimpressed.

“You two really are a piece of work,” he grumbled, almost to himself and referring to you and Alpine. With a low huff, he turned and disappeared into the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder, “Fine, hold on.”

You watched him go, unable to suppress a laugh as you crouched down to pet Alpine.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you cooed, scratching behind her ears. “At least someone’s happy to see me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky’s voice echoed from the kitchen, the same grumpy tone as before. A moment later, he returned, holding out a nearly full bottle of hot sauce. “Here,” he said, handing it over like he was reluctantly offering his most prized possession.

“Thanks, grumpy,” you teased, flashing him a bright smile. “I promise I’ll bring it back—maybe with some cookies to make up for the trouble.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, though you noticed he didn’t seem in a hurry to close the door.

“I’m not in it for cookies,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. But the faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes, like he was trying not to smile. “But whatever keeps you from raiding my kitchen in the future.”

“Duly noted,” you replied, giving him a playful wink. “And I’ll remember that next time I need a ‘neighborly favor.’”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back, catching the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips—a small victory in cracking the grumpy facade of the guy with the hoodie, reading glasses, and a talent for perfecting the art of being reluctantly charming.

Just as you took a step into the hallway, you felt a soft brush against your leg. You looked down to see Alpine, trotting along beside you as if she’d decided to join you for the rest of your night. She meowed up at you, purring as she rubbed against your leg, clearly delighted by the idea. Long time no see~ Can I join you?

“Oh no, you’re coming back with me,” Bucky called from the doorway, his voice filled with an exasperated fondness. He stepped out, crouching down and reaching to scoop Alpine up.

But Alpine had other plans. With a playful flick of her tail, she darted down the hallway, paws tapping lightly on the floor as she glanced back at you both, clearly treating this as a game. You let out a laugh, glancing at Bucky, who rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright, let’s go,” he muttered, already jogging down the hall after her. You quickly followed, trying to keep up as Alpine zig-zagged down the corridor, occasionally pausing just to watch the two of you stumble over each other in pursuit.

You lunged, reaching out just as Bucky did, your fingers brushing against his hand, warm and rough against your skin. You both froze for a heartbeat, your hands lingering on each other, fingers almost intertwining. His blue eyes flicked to yours, a faint, surprised softness in his expression.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice suddenly low, as he reluctantly pulled his hand away. His cheeks had a faint tinge of color, and he glanced down, avoiding your gaze.

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, feeling your own face heat up as the lingering warmth of his touch pulsed through your hand.

A soft meow drew your attention back to Alpine, who had trotted a few steps farther down the hall and was now looking back, her tail swishing impatiently, as if to say, Come on, don’t stop now.

You shared a glance with Bucky, both of you chuckling before you took off again, nearly colliding as Alpine darted between you, then back down the hall. You tried to cut her off, reaching for her just as Bucky leaned down, and your shoulder brushed his chest, your arm catching briefly against his as you both reached for the cat at the same time.

“Gotcha!” he breathed as he finally managed to scoop Alpine up, holding her securely in his arms. She gave a little huff of protest but settled quickly, casting a satisfied look at the two of you as if she’d planned this entire chase.

Bucky looked down at you, his expression softened as he adjusted Alpine in his arms. “She’s got a mind of her own,” he murmured, giving the cat a gentle scratch behind the ears. “If I let her, she’d probably invite half the building over.”

You chuckled, shrugging as you met his gaze, still feeling the warmth of his hand and the accidental brushes that had left your skin tingling.

“Well, who could say no to her?” You paused, catching Alpine’s approving stare, and added with a grin, “She has good taste.”

With a final smile, you turned to go, the warmth of his touch lingering as you walked back to Sarah’s, already looking forward to the next time fate—and perhaps a certain cat—might bring you and Bucky together again.

× × × ×

Bucky set Alpine down on the floor, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at her. The lights cast a soft glow, shadows stretching as Alpine blinked up at him innocently before promptly starting to groom herself, as if she hadn’t just led him on a wild chase. Just doing my job here. Somebody has to give you a nudge.

“Oh, play it cool now, huh?” he muttered, watching her with a raised brow. “Got me running all over the place, and now you’re acting like you didn’t just make me look like a fool.”

Alpine paused mid-lick, giving him a blank, unbothered stare, then went right back to her grooming. Honestly, you wouldn’t need me if you’d get a clue. Ever thought of actually talking to her instead of grumbling? She flicked her tail with a touch of sass. Or maybe asking her name?

Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face. “You know, normal cats just sit still, Alpine. They don’t pull stunts like this.”

Alpine stretched out her front paws, yawned theatrically, and trotted over to her favorite spot by the window, where a perfect patch of moonlight poured in. She plopped down with a little huff, giving him a look that practically screamed Mission accomplished. Settling into the moonlight, she gave him a long, slow blink. Face it, you’re helpless without me.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, watching her settle in, already giving up on him. “Oh, so that’s it? You run me all over the hallway, leave me looking like a fool, and now it’s straight to bed?”

Alpine stretched luxuriously, flicking her tail, her eyes half-lidded as if she were already drifting off. Exactly. All done here.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he muttered, unable to help the reluctant chuckle escaping him. “I’m starting to think you live to drive me nuts.”

Alpine’s only response was to give him a slow, deliberate blink, followed by a little yawn as she curled herself up into a neat ball. Trust me, I have better things to do. But if you need help with her, I’ll keep doing what it takes. She tucked her paws under her chest, purring softly as she settled comfortably into her moonlit spot.

Bucky let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head as he watched her drift contentedly into her nap, completely unbothered. “Nice, just real nice, Alpine.”

Alpine barely twitched an ear, her purrs steady as she nestled deeper, looking more self-satisfied by the second. If you’d stop being so dense, maybe I could finally get some rest. But nooo, someone’s gotta step in to make things happen.

With a chuckle, Bucky finally turned to leave, muttering as he walked away, “Yeah, alright, enjoy your victory. But one day, I’m gonna get the last word.”

She let out a long, dramatic sigh behind him, curling her tail neatly around her paws as she watched him go. Good luck with that.

× × × ×

You returned to Sarah’s place with the hot sauce in hand, still feeling the faint warmth of that brief touch with Bucky lingering on your skin. As soon as you walked in, Sarah’s eyes zeroed in on you, her mouth quirking up with barely-contained curiosity.

“Well?” she asked, leaning over the kitchen counter, an amused gleam in her eyes. “Did the hot sauce handoff go smoothly, or did you manage to embarrass yourself?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your grin. “Oh, you know, just the usual ‘I tried to borrow hot sauce and his cat made a break for it’ kind of thing.”

Sarah let out a cackle, grabbing a piece of chicken and waving it at you. “Oh, I can just picture it! Poor Bucky, trying to wrangle you and Alpine at the same time. Man’s got patience, that’s for sure.”

You snorted, sitting down across from her. “Honestly, if that cat has a loyalty bone in her body, I sure didn’t see it. She trotted right after me, looking like she was about to pack her bags and move in with me.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Well, maybe she just knows who has the better vibe.” She paused, then leaned in closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “And speaking of vibes… you still think Bucky’s kind of… hot, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard but unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “Sarah! I have a boyfriend, and you’re the one who’s supposed to be his neighborly buddy, not me.”

Sarah shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just saying what we’re all thinking! I mean, that man is like a brooding mystery novel come to life—hoodies, reading glasses, and a cat? It’s like the universe took every mysterious loner trope and gave him an apartment across the hall.”

“It’s true. And he has this way of looking at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re worth his time or if he should just ignore you forever.” You snickered, leaning back in your chair.

Sarah burst out laughing. “Right? It’s like he’s thinking, ‘Should I be annoyed by you, or should I give you a chance?’”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes playfully. “And then there’s Alpine. She’s practically his little accomplice, just trotting around, inspecting people. I swear she judges everyone who walks through that door.”

Sarah nodded solemnly. “It’s like she’s screening potential friends for him. I bet you passed her inspection with flying colors, which probably drives Bucky insane.”

You grinned, reaching for the hot sauce and holding it up victoriously. “Well, in any case, mission accomplished. Hot sauce acquired.”

Sarah took it from you, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “Good job, hot sauce hero. And, you know, if you ever need another excuse to go over there… just let me know.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and you swatted her with a laugh.

“Calm down,” you said, grinning despite yourself. “I’ll leave the neighborly mingling to you.”

But as you settled back, that faint memory of Bucky’s hand brushing against yours slipped into your mind again, leaving you with a hint of a smile you couldn’t quite shake.

Sarah took the hot sauce from you with a grin, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Honestly, though? As much as I get why you’re fangirling over Bucky, I think I’ll stick with you know… Captain America? Steve Rogers?” She wiggled her eyebrows, smirking as if she’d just revealed the world’s biggest secret.

Your jaw dropped as you laughed. “Wait, wait—you have a crush on Captain America? Sarah, since when?”

“Oh, since forever, love,” she replied, completely unfazed. “I mean, come on. Bucky’s hot and all, with the mysterious, brooding vibe—total cat dad energy. But Steve? He’s, like, America’s sweetheart. Have you seen that jawline? And don’t even get me started on those shoulders…”

You rolled your eyes. “Alright, but what does any of this have to do with Bucky?”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, deadpanning, “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re not that clueless.”

“Clueless about what?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know, girl. Figure it out yourself.”

× × × ×

You stepped out of Sarah’s apartment in a fluffy bathrobe, hair piled in a chaotic bun, and wearing one of those ridiculous panda face masks. Sarah had bossed you into taking out the recycling, claiming you were “faster and had better balance,” even though you were pretty sure she just wanted to keep watching her favorite Korean drama on the couch.

Armed with a wobbly tower of recycling in one arm and a half-empty mug of coffee in the other, you shuffled down the hall, muttering about how unfair this was—considering you were the guest. Just as you reached Bucky’s door, the inevitable happened: an empty can teetered from the top of the stack, then clattered loudly against Bucky’s door before rolling down the hall.

“Oh, for the love of—” you grumbled, watching as a few more items tumbled out of your grip, scattering in all directions like rebellious escapees.

Grumbling under your breath, you set down the rest of the recycling and dropped to your hands and knees, crawling around to collect the runaway trash. One by one, you reached for a stray plastic bottle, an empty cereal box, and a rogue pickle jar lid, grumbling the entire time. Just as you stretched out to grab the can in front of Bucky’s door, the door swung open.

You froze, one hand outstretched, still on all fours as you looked up to find Bucky staring down at you, his face set in that trademark grumpy expression, one eyebrow raised in exasperation. There you were, kneeling on the floor in a panda face mask, coffee mug abandoned on the floor beside you, and a look of pure horror in your wide, panda-eyed gaze.

He looked at you, deadpan. “Uh… good evening?” His voice held a hint of a grumble, as if you were the hundredth person to knock on his door that night.

“Evening,” you squeaked, voice muffled by the mask. Slowly, you grabbed the can you’d been reaching for and straightened, still clutching the recycling like a raccoon caught in headlights.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a sigh, like he’d been forced into this position. “Taking the recycling out, huh? Looks… intense. Is the panda look part of the routine?”

You cleared your throat, trying to save what little dignity you had left.

“Sarah’s orders,” you muttered, attempting to sound nonchalant despite the panda face mask covering your face. “She said I’m faster, so… here I am.”

“Right.” He raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Clearly, she picked the right person for the job.” He glanced down at the coffee mug on the floor, lifting his chin with a sarcastic edge. “And the coffee—emergency fuel for… panda-speed?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, trying to sound dignified as you met his grumpy stare with a forced smile. “This is serious business. Not everyone can pull off recycling in full panda regalia.”

He nodded, holding his expression as flat as possible. “Right. Because it takes a real pro to look like a trash panda… while actually handling trash.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, fighting the urge to laugh. “Trash panda? Wow, that’s rich, coming from the guy who looks like he’d growl at Girl Scouts just for ringing his doorbell.”

His mouth twitched, but he stayed in character, leaning against the door. “Hey, at least I don’t terrify the whole building with face masks.”

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “At least I put effort into my skincare routine. What’s your secret—‘scowl until the wrinkles gets intimidated’?”

“Cute.” He kept his tone flat, though you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. “I think the panda eyes bring out your sarcasm. Really… fierce.”

“Pandas are fierce,” you shot back, smirking under your mask. “They’re nature’s gentle-but-deadly combo. Kind of like me.”

“Right, gentle and deadly,” he repeated, barely able to hold back a smirk. “Noted. I’ll remember that next time I see you crawling around my doorstep with a coffee mug and a can of pickles.”

“Look, I was handling it,” you protested, still trying to keep a straight face. “Just because you caught me in the middle of a… tactical maneuver doesn’t mean I don’t have it under control.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” he replied, maintaining his unimpressed stare. “I’m sure that’s what it was. You were practically radiating grace.”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you gathered the rest of the stray recycling. “Alright, laugh it up, Mr. Permanently-Annoyed.”

“Hey, I’d offer to help, but it looks like you’ve got it,” he replied, making no move to lend a hand, arms still folded as he watched you with that unimpressed look.

You stood up, giving him a playful glare. “Yeah, I do. Just don’t go stealing my panda-recycling techniques. They’re patented.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he replied, his tone dry. “I’ll leave that look to the professionals.”

You turned to head down the hall, tossing back, “Good choice. It takes real skill to pull off ‘panda chic.’”

“Goodnight, trash panda,” he called after you with a lazy smirk, watching you attempt to saunter off with some semblance of dignity, though the effect was slightly ruined by your still-panda-masked face.

As you disappeared around the corner, you could hear his quiet, begrudging chuckle echoing down the hallway. You couldn’t help but smile, already thinking up a new comeback for the next time you’d cross paths with Mr. Grumpy Neighbor.

× × × ×

The next morning you stepped out of Sarah’s apartment, adjusting the delicate gold earring in your right ear as you locked the door behind you. Dressed in a sleek, tailored blazer and wide-leg trousers, paired with heels that clicked confidently against the hallway floor, you looked every inch the CEO. The polished look was worlds away from the panda-masked recycling chaos of last night, and you felt ready to conquer the day.

As you turned, you found yourself face-to-face with Bucky, who’d just exited his own apartment. He paused, taking you in from head to toe with a carefully neutral expression, his gaze lingering slightly on the structured blazer and the quiet luxury of your outfit.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, and then, almost in sync, you both broke the silence with a slightly awkward, “Good morning.”

Bucky’s eyes met yours, but his expression remained unreadable, and you couldn’t tell if he was surprised by your transformation. Maybe he was, or maybe he just couldn’t resist an opportunity to tease you.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just a bit as he gave you a slow once-over. “Well, look who cleaned up nice. Didn’t recognize you without the whole… ‘trash panda’ ensemble.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as you shot him a sidelong glance. “Ah, the ‘trash panda’ look. You must be so disappointed I don’t wear it more often.”

With huff and a shrug, Bucky stepped aside, allowing you to pass, his eyes lingering briefly as you walked down the hallway, his blank expression still firmly in place.

You both stepped toward the elevator, waiting in silence as the numbers slowly descended to your floor. As you stood there, you found your gaze drifting toward Bucky every now and then, stealing quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. Was it wrong to find another guy attractive? Maybe it was just because you knew next to nothing about him—his name, his apartment, the fact that he had a cat named Alpine who seemed to have adopted you.

Another glance. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a natural ease in the way he stood there, casual yet composed. 183 centimeters? you guessed, then reconsidered, 187? Wait, you were wearing heels, and he was still a good bit taller than you. 190, maybe?

The elevator doors opened, and you both stepped in, standing side by side in silence as the doors closed. Suddenly, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, and Rhys’s name flashed across the screen. Stifling a sigh, you answered in a hushed tone, trying not to disturb the quiet.

“What is it, Rhys? I’m on my way to a meeting.”

His voice was casual. “Thought I’d just check in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“I’ve been busy,” you replied flatly, your tone holding an edge.

“Busy with what?” he asked, sounding as though he couldn’t imagine what you’d be up to that didn’t involve him.

“Work, Rhys. You know, that thing I do for a living?” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm, feeling Bucky glance at you from the side, probably picking up every word despite your attempt at discretion.

Rhys scoffed on the other end. “Alright, no need to bite my head off.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll call you back when I’m free. Bye, Rhys.” You ended the call, slipping your phone back into your bag with a sigh.

Beside you, Bucky’s gaze flickered your way, a slight furrow forming between his brows. The last time you’d been stuck together in this elevator, you’d been all sarcasm and snapping at him for noticing your impatience. Now, here you were, practically glowing, looking like the kind of person who actually enjoyed mornings. He seemed to be weighing this change, his expression unreadable as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

You slipped your phone back into your bag, trying to shake off the lingering frustration from the call. Clearing your throat, you glanced over at him, forcing yourself to sound casual.

“So… what’s got you out so early this morning?”

Bucky turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze with a flicker of surprise, his brows lifting as if he hadn’t expected the question. He shrugged, his mouth tugging into a faint, almost amused line.

“Just some errands,” he replied, his hands still tucked in his pockets.

You nodded, raising an eyebrow as if trying to read more into his response. “Errands. Very mysterious,” you said, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, a low chuckle slipping past his lips as he watched you.

“Mysterious?” he echoed, that faint smirk softening his usual gruffness. “What’s so mysterious about errands?”

“Oh, I don’t know… just something about the quiet guy, up early, hands in his pockets, looking like he’s got secrets.” You shrugged, casting him a mischievous glance.

He huffed, shaking his head, though his eyes held a flicker of humor as he glanced away.

“Trust me,” he muttered, a trace of a smirk lingering, “it’s nothing exciting.”

You tilted your head, giving him an exaggerated once-over. “No, seriously,” you said, folding your arms with a mock-critical expression. “You don’t exactly give off ‘morning person’ vibes.”

He raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Oh yeah? And what’s that supposed to mean?”

You held back a grin, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Well, you’ve got that whole ‘leave me alone or I’ll bite’ face going on,” you teased. “Figured mornings would be your natural enemy. You know, like sunlight to a vampire.”

A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.

“Careful, now,” he said, eyes twinkling with mock offense. “Are you discriminating against morning people with a resting bitch face?”

You snorted, barely holding back laughter. “I don’t know, maybe! But you’ve got a chronic case of it,” you teased. “It’s tragic, really.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, real tragic. Guess I’m just doomed to terrify cheerful people like you.”

“Well, you’re definitely succeeding,” you replied with a grin, giving him a playful nudge as the elevator doors finally opened.

You let out a small sigh, looking up at him with a sweet smile. “Alright, well… I’ll see you later, Bucky,” you said, giving him a little wave as you stepped out, turning to head down the hall.

The moment you turned your back, Bucky’s hand started to lift, returning the wave as if on autopilot. Realization hit a second later, and he froze, staring at his own hand with a look of utter horror. He quickly dropped it, scowling at his own reflex as if his hand had betrayed him.

The elevator doors closed, leaving him alone, still side-eyeing his hand with a mix of disbelief and mild annoyance.

tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @infqnitysblog

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@almosttoopizza @hextech-bros

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creepyclothdoll · 3 months ago

Text

I set Angel Free

All of this is gonna sound pretty mean but let me preface this by saying that this girl, Angel, thought she was God’s gift. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Like she’d literally introduce herself by saying,

“My name is Angel, because I’m a gift from Heaven.”

She’d say it with this smile that was so fake and sickly-sweet you could taste your teeth rotting just looking at it. All her mannerisms were stolen from disney movies, like how she’d talk in this high-pitched little girl voice that she thought made her seem so cute. Like, yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to be nice to people like that, but it was so hard to tolerate her.

So we messed with her. It wasn’t because she was in a wheelchair, I wanna make that clear. I don’t have a problem with people in wheelchairs. Just Angel. You’d feel the same way if you knew her. Honestly everyone did.

She literally didn’t know where babies came from. Like one time my friends were joking about having Nick Jonas’s babies and Angel was like “how would you make the baby his?” And we had to literally explain to her where babies come from and ask where she thought they came from. She said, and I quote,

“When a mommy makes a very special wish, and gives it a special kiss and sends it to God, God cuts a piece of Heaven in the shape of a baby and wraps it in the wish and sends it back to the mommy, to grow up and be loved and kept safe on the earth forever.”

This was, by far, the stupidest thing I ever heard in my entire life. So of course I responded by telling her her mommy was lying to her, most likely because she was a whore.

This made everyone at lunch laugh really hard because her mom, Ms CJ, was the school’s frumpiest old cat lady, and she literally had those 80’s coke-bottle glasses like that guy from Trailer Park Boys and the idea of her getting sexed up for dollar bills was enough to make you piss yourself laughing.

Angel started crying and doing that annoying pouting thing. Frankly I doubt she even knew what a whore was, just that it was bad. I think she wanted to storm off, but it’s not like she could go very far. Which I pointed out as well, to uproarious laughter.

Okay again, I don’t have an issue with people in wheelchairs. It was just really easy to mess with her. But this was the incident that, for some reason, made everyone think of me as the Designated Angel Watchman. Like, any time Angel did anything weird and cringey, everyone would look at me like they were Jim from the Office and I was the camera. And then if I didn’t say something funny about it, they’d get all disappointed. But when I did say something funny, it became the new Angel Thing Of The Week that everyone would be saying in the halls between classes, and I’d feel like a genius. Did it go too far sometimes? Sure. But that’s not my fault. All Angel ever had to do was act like a normal person for once and it all would have stopped.

Angel was homeschooled her whole life until seventh grade, which is probably why she was so weird.

I wanna be clear– she wasn’t like, mentally disabled or anything like that. That would make me look pretty bad. She was just weird. She was always singing by herself– pop songs, disney princess songs, sometimes songs in japanese from anime. She was convinced she had the best voice in the class, and flaunted it all the time like she thought we were gonna be impressed. She wore these huge ugly cat sweaters with glitter and frills every single day.

And any time we watched a movie in class, she’d laugh this awful snickering long laugh at ANY joke and then bawl her goddamn eyes out if there was even a little bit of a sad part. It was so annoying!

She refused to do anything outside her comfort zone– no scary stories, no new foods, no games she’d never played before. She turned her nose up at anything unfamiliar.

So let me be clear: Angel deserved most of what we did to her.

But she didn’t deserve what I did that last day.

Before I met Angel, I thought Ms CJ was okay. After, though, I realized she was batshit. She only let Angel come to our school for seventh grade because she knew she’d be Angel’s homeroom teacher and that she’d be able to flit in and coddle her throughout the day. Ms CJ was Angel’s constant guardian, which should be humiliating for anyone who has shame, but Angel loved the attention. She’d beg Ms CJ to stay with her longer every time she popped in during class. And that sucked, because I couldn’t say shit about anything cringe Angel did when Ms CJ was around, so I missed a lot of really good opportunities to mess with her.

Ms CJ always sat with her daughter at lunch, which was honestly bad parenting because there was no way Angel would ever be able to make any friends like that. Ms CJ never let Angel join the rest of us for recess. Or for field trips. Once during a group project in French class, as a joke, I invited Angel to a made-up party in the woods. Angel replied by saying,

“I can’t go if it’s in the woods, silly! My mommy doesn’t let me outside!”

She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world for her, so I asked some clarifying questions. She explained, in her girly sing-song voice, that she’s not ever allowed to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time, and only when her mommy is there to hold her hand.

“My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost,” she said.

“It’s not like you can run away,” I joked.

“I can run,” Angel replied, pouting. “Look.” She kicked her legs slightly. I heard the clack of chains.

That was the first time I ever noticed that Angel was shackled around her ankles.

“I run all the time at home,” Angel bragged. “I run alllll over, over all the rooms. I wish I could run here too, but it’s too dangerous. The windows,” she added, like that would clarify it. I was baffled. So she didn’t even need the wheelchair.

“Um, why are you chained? Are you like, under house arrest or something?” I asked.

“No. My mommy just doesn’t want me to get lost. She’s the only one with the key.”

“Your mommy sounds like a psycho. You should call the cops,” I replied.

The French teacher overheard her crying and she got me sent to the principal’s office again. But I swear this time I wasn’t being smart or anything, I was genuinely freaked out for her. I told my friends, who all agreed with me that it was weird. But I guess I hadn’t been the first one to notice the chains. The others who had assumed it was because Angel was like, prone to fits or something. That made sense for Angel, but it still made me feel weird and didn’t sit right.

My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost.

I started to feel sorry for her. She was still weird and annoying, but she was weird and annoying because her mom was out of her mind and wouldn’t let her be a normal kid. How was she supposed to learn to be normal if she couldn’t even go outside, for god’s sake?

I still messed with Angel when she did weird stuff like quote anime characters in class and bring stuffed animals to school. But if it was ever just her and me, I was nice to her and asked her stuff about her life.

Her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid. No, she had never been to summer camp. Her favorite time of the week was church. She disliked onions and wanted to be a vegetarian except that her mom was very insistent about her getting enough protein in her diet. She loved those Warrior cat books and wanted to be a veterinarian someday. She didn’t have a dad. Ms CJ took the shackles off her ankles only once they were inside their house and all the doors and windows were closed and locked. That was also when Ms CJ took the locked metal bar off of her chair so she could get up. The bar went over her waist and prevented her from standing. She wore those big ugly cat sweaters every day so we wouldn’t see it. Her mom didn’t want people to know about her special condition, which, as far as I could tell, was all made-up. Any time I asked about her “condition,” she’d just say some stuff about being a very special heaven baby or whatever.

“Do you ever think about running away?” I asked finally. “Why don’t you just… leave?”

She looked shocked.

“Of course not!” she said. “I love my mommy. Where would I even go?” She shuddered visibly.

The shudder pissed me off. I blew up at her and called her a whiny scaredy baby until she cried, and I got sent to the principal again.

She didn’t even want to be normal. That’s what pissed me off the most.

It was springtime, and the snow was finally mostly gone. I’d been in Mr Bevends’ science class before, so I knew what to expect that day– first real nice day of spring was always a “class outside” day. We’d go out and look at moss and leaf buds and stuff and he’d talk about natural changes during the season. It was all a big excuse for us to get outside– no one liked it more than Mr Bevends himself. He was so excited to announce we were taking class outside, he didn’t even notice Angel’s face go stark white as he led the rest of the class out the doors.

“I– I can��t–” she stuttered, but I interrupted her.

“It’s the most beautiful day in months,” I said. “It’s a perfect day. You’ll love it.”

“I’m not allowed,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“You wanna be a baby forever?” I said. “Come on. You’ve never broken a single rule in your life. Live a little.”

After a long moment, Angel nodded. She followed me out the back doors of the school, onto the sidewalk. I walked next to her for awhile. She looked scared, but also fascinated by the dripping icicles from the roof gutter above us, and the ice-blue sky above, and the rows of black trees stretching up into the air.

“It’s cold,” she said.

“Yeah, that happens when you’re outside for more than a few seconds.”

“I think… I like the cold.”

We caught up to the rest of the science class, and listened to Mr Bevends talk about leaves and crap. Angel oscilated between this vibrating excitement and a frightened, hunted look, like her mom was gonna show up at any second and punish her for disobeying and doing one normal thing in her life. Angel touched the trees reverently. My friends made fun of her for “fondling the foliage.” I didn’t join in this time. I had bigger things planned.

When we broke off into groups of two, I went with Angel. My friends knew I was up to something great then, so they followed us, chuckling eagerly. I grinned back at them when Angel wasn’t looking.

We were supposed to identify different types of trees in the woods behind the school. I helped push Angel’s chair up the hill– it was insanely heavy. The wheels snagged on the muddy grass, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she actually needed the thing.

“What are you doing?” Angel asked with rising terror as I leaned over her and produced the key.

Everyone knew Mr Bevends always had class outside the first nice day of spring. It was really easy to slip the key from Ms CJ’s lanyard when she always left it out on her desk during homeroom. It was the one with little white wings on the chain.

“I’m setting you free,” I said. I unlocked the shackles around her feet first, then the bar around her waist. She screamed at me to stop the entire time, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Someone had to teach her to be independent. Someone had to throw her out of her comfort zone.

And that’s what I did. I set Angel free.

Angel rose from the chair.

And rose. And rose.

Her shoes went over her head. She kicked her legs wildly as they drifted rapidly upwards. Angel shrieked and tried to grab onto the top of the chair– the handles, even trying to clutch a handful of my hair– desperate to stay anchored to the ground. But it was too late. She was already six feet in the air.

Then twelve.

Then thirty.

I couldn’t do anything other than watch on in shock as Angel shot up into the sky like a helium balloon. She twisted and clawed at the open air.

It happened in seconds. One second, we were watching Angel make frantic grabbing motions at the ground, howling with terror, and the next second all we could see of her was the glint of the sunlight on her glittery pink cat sweater as she disappeared up into the vast emptiness above.

When Mr Bevends came to see what was the matter, all any of us could do was to point up. But by then, she was just a pinprick against the deep, endless blue sky.

Then there was nothing.

#short story #original story #horror story #horror #dark fiction #surreal horror #psychological horror #dark fantasy #horror writing #creative writing #storytelling #Angel #tw: ableism #tw: bullying #tw: murder #Casadastraphobia

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averyfuckingtiredyounglady · 25 days ago

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What kind of crush would SKZ be??

Ot8 x gn reader

This is like what vibe they give off to me/scenarios i can imagine them in

-Finished ver-

(Wow no smut this time)

BANG CHAN

close but not close enough

Chan is someone you always saw around. You lived in the same neighborhood and rode the school bus together. However, he was two years older than you and you never took classes with him or had much reason to talk to him at all but boy did you have a big fat stinking crush on him. You just did. If all he did was look your way or if he GREETED you?? It was the highlight of your day. Once he gave you back a pencil that you dropped.. you had kept it since.. Eventually chan ended up moving away and you never saw him again, you soon forgot about your little crush… until he came back home to visit…

LEE KNOW

classmate crush

Minho sits in front of you in class. He pretty much keeps to himself and he has a small group of friends. He’s known to have a dry personality but you cant help but notice his cute little quirks. His phone case with the pictures of his cats, the ugly face hes always doodling in his notebook and passing in notes to his friends. You dont have any friends in this class so you dont have anything better to do but stare at his back just wanting to reach out and tap him on the shoulder and say hi.. or anything… but something makes you feel like itll be too awkward so you never do. Miraculously, one day in the hall you hear him from behind you whisper yelling your name “hey! Y/n!” But when you turn to face him you notice hes unable to meet your eyes. “Hey umm.. i dont know if anyone else told you, but… you have toilet paper stuck to your shoe.”

CHANGBIN

the already taken

Changbin is your friend’s boyfriend… and you like him a lot… like.. a lot a lot.. Oops. Well… YOU LIKED HIM FIRST.. but he liked her more… at least you’re pretty sure he does. You never told anyone about your little crush so you can’t blame anyone but yourself. So whenever you see them kissing, holding hands, or, lord help you, whenever youre third wheeling while hanging out with them, you want to beat yourself unconscious with the nearest heavy object.

HYUNJIN

Love at first sight, beautiful stranger

On any standard day at work you come across some attractive people of course, but sometimes you see someone and it just… hits different. And you CANT stop staring at this one customer… like what the fuck?? They make em like this??? Holy shit… and you know youre staring but youre like… in shock.. he clearly just came from working out or something because he has a light sheen of sweat.. he just looks kinda wet… all over… but its hot??? You watch him disappear into one aisle after the next while hes doing his shopping and suddenly youre imagining your first date. Youre checking out the customer in front of you but youre still thinking about him… by the time youve married him in your imagination, hes finished shopping and coming toward the registers and youre holding your breath thinking “please dont come to me. Please dont come to me.. pleeeasse dont fucking come to my fucking register!!!” Aaaanndd there he is.

Han

Friendzoned

Han Jisung is so full of shit… he won’t date you because you’re “too good for him”. What a crock of horse shit… You wish you’d never confessed and right now you’re at a restaurant and he’s talking to you about god knows what. You see his mouth moving but you’re consumed with your thoughts, replaying the conversation in your head when he friendzoned you like its a fucking snuff film… and what in god’s name is he yapping on about? “Y/N! Are you listening? Can i have some of your fries?”

FELIX

Childhood friend

Everyone loves Felix.. That’s what you tell yourself. Your feelings are normal. The feeling that you would kill to see him smile… Come oooon. Its Felix. Who wouldnt??? Yeah, you get angry when you see him getting close to other friends and yeah you don’t like sharing his company with anyone else.. You’ve known him practically since birth. Being with Felix is like returning home. If nostalgia was a person. it’s only natural to have an attachment right? You know him better than anyone else and nothing can threaten the bond you two have. Yep. You and Felix are just a couple of BFFs. Nothing less… nothing more.

Seungmin

Dense crush

You and Seungmin are in the same department at work. You started as juniors at the company hired around the same time. He started a little before you, helping you with some of the knowledge that he himself had just learned. You were nervous to start a new job and honestly a bit intimidated by the whole thing but Seungmin made all that so much easier.. he was so respectful and hard working and helped you more than he needed to. The way he buttoned his shirt all the way to the top and hid his smile when he laughed was so cute to you.. and you admired that he was such a perfectionist with his work and before you knew it… you had a work crush. You tried dropping hints. You tried complimenting him on his work which you felt he would especially like. But he kinda just nodded at you. You noticed when he got a haircut and told him it looked nice. You put extra effort in your clothes and hair enough to be noticed but not to be obvious and skipped your lunch break like he usually does a few times just to be in the office alone with him… You really should stop the games and just be more direct but WHAT MORE DOES HE WANT FROM YOU? Youre just a girl for Pete’s sake. When all else fails, you start to put your master plan together when you and Seungmin get put on a work project together.

I.N

Too young for me… but?

🎶 You saaayy it’s because of my age, girl. But, age ain’t nothin but a numbeeerrr. It ain’t nothin but a nuuummbbeerr, babyyyyy 🎶

It’s easy to sing along to these lyrics in a song that have nothing to do with you at all.. and thats what you were doing, quietly singing to yourself when you were out on your early morning walk in the park and happened upon a young gentleman, a rather young gentleman, jogging on the same trail. He gives you a respectful nod as he goes by. You let your eyes linger on him for longer than they should have. Why not? It’s free! He had on some running shorts too…Woo chile! If you were his age…he just don’t know… You shake your head at yourself and huff out a quiet chuckle, picking up your pace. You meet each other again and again as you both make your laps. At one point you see him taking a break, bent over with his hands on his hips, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. You started to get some inappropriate thoughts and you decided you might as well go home. Acting like an old pervert is not how you wanted to start your day. As you’re changing out of your tennis shoes and chucking them in your back seat you feel a tap on your shoulder. You jump a bit because you didn’t know anyone was there and remove your headphones. It’s him. Of course it is. He has a shy smile.

“Sorry ma’am. I didn’t want to bother you earlier while you were, ya know, busy, but… you’re really beautiful and—“

You start to chuckle softly.

“That’s sweet but you just called ma’am. I’m way too old for you, dude.”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s just a habit. I mean, I can tell you’re older but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh? Is that right?” You taunt.

You squint your eyes at him, reading his expression… what is wrong with this young man? Oh, what the hell? What’s the worse that could happen?

#stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #kpop fanfic #lee know x reader #felix x reader #changbin x reader #han x reader #y/n

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itsphoenix0724 · 1 year ago

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Promises (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 2

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3

You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

It’s been a long week.

It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain.

You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from.

“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat.

“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor.

“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful.

You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you.

“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct.

“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body.

“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own.

“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired.

“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented.

“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you.

“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours.

“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs.

“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid.

It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth.

“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning.

“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?” You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you.

“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table.

“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too.

“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body.

“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag.

“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”

“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being.

“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went.

What the fuck had he done?

#acomaf #acotar #acowar #acotar imagine #acosf fanfiction #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand imagine

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fishfooddude · 4 months ago

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Wet

Jake Seresin x Reader

[Part 2 to Panty Stealer from Kinktober 2024] (This got a lot longer than initially planned so it's gonna be a three-parter)

Top Gun Maverick MasterList