#although i really did not expect this specific thing to work

[sunboki]

⎯ THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING a Christopher Bahng fiction

💣 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. bodyguard au, demon au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors DNI

WORD COUNT. 6.6k words

WARNINGS. chan & han are demons(NO POLY), mentions of lucifer/the devil, eventual smut, descriptive violence, smoking, fighting, cursing, blood, wounds, drinking, reader gets drunk/passes out

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. this started as a random blurb while in the bathroom(tmi i know) but i just HAD to make a longer adaptation!! as usual, if you enjoy the fic please feel free to leave feedback & a reblog!ised ya’ll bodyguard chan would be back.. your wish is my command~

SYNOPSIS. A petty robbery leads to deep debt for Chan, a white-eyed demon occupying Hell. So eventually, he finds himself faced with no choice but to go job hunting. The best offer available? A bodyguard gig in the human realm. Oh, and the worst part? Jisung’s here too.

or alternatively :

When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.

SMUT WARNING. usage of the nickname “bunny” and “good girl”, somewhat hinted size kink, praise, dumbification, barely dubcon (reader gives consent ; nonverbal), creampie, chan cums inside (use protection ya’ll), monsterfucking! basically lmao

There’s an infinite list of reasons why humans shouldn’t associate with demons. But was it really all that important? Maybe the humans wanted it.

Or, maybe the demons did too.

Maybe, the demons didn’t have a choice.

What a funny thought.

Although, for Christopher Bahng, a demon himself, it was reality.

So the real question stood. Is it the humans that shouldn’t associate with demons, or the other way around?

The thought occurred to Chan at some point, but his head, ringing with the sound of silver coins clattering on glass surfaces, drowned out every ounce of sensibility. Blood, flesh, he was a demon. And right now, he had hell to pay as Lucifer’s underling. No pun intended.

Demons were an ideal choice for bodyguards, too obsessed with their own greed to pay any mind to the consequences, dogs to somebody else’s beckon, minds trained like hunting dogs.

Taking care of the dirty work, for a price.

A price that Chan needed, desperately. Because one thing demons, including himself, love doing is tormenting.

That is until he’s the victim of the tormenting, and all of a sudden the experience doesn’t feel too welcoming.

Raiding his home was an understatement considering they had utterly demolished every inch, not leaving a single fragment remaining in one piece. Granted, he didn’t cry about it. Instead, he lived up to his name, his title.

..Let’s just say he doubted the red stains would ever leave that shirt of his, metallic scent strong enough to make your nose burn.

Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t the greatest at forgiving, and he determined rather quickly this was only the start of his problems regardless of how sweetly the demon lord threatened explained he would dissolve Chan into ash if he ever got tired of him.

Alas, two weeks later, he gets a call.

Combing a frustrated hand through raven-colored locks, he holds the phone up to his ear, repeatedly snapping his fingers. The girl kneeled between his legs raises up begrudgingly, wiping her mouth and disappearing into his bathroom.

Well there goes a good blowjob.

Yet, finally, a job was proposed.

Multiple, according to the drone of a fumbling assistant. Jobs comprised of one he’d primarily work and occasional hitman gigs on the side.

Catch? The job was located in the human realm. Not impossible, but not as easy as sleuthing in Hell, where common folk were demons and not big-eyed, nosy, mind-your-damn-business-mortals.

The job in question? Babysitting. Specifically for Lucifer's right-hand man, otherwise known as the Devil’s Plaything. And, despite not being a demon, served Lucifer as if he was one. How cute.

Or as the trauma-induced auditor phrased it, “guarding” some girl.

“Guarding” was something he was mildly familiar with, but never a human. Never in the human realm. So when the suggestion was offered, Chan’s first instinct was to reject—remind Hell’s moderator that he wasn’t just a regular, but a demon of impressive status. A white-eyed demon, who, in fact, ranged most powerful of its kind.

His first instinct was also to punch the man working at the register of this putrid smelling burger joint right in the face, maybe frame his head as a part of a collection while he’s at it. Demons are creative like that.

Because being in this situation, nonetheless currently walking around in the human realm he swore to never step foot in has his stomach jarring.

“Chan, look at this! It’s called K-E-T-C-H-U-P, what a funny name!”

Oh. Yeah. The walking headache, Han Jisung. Forgot he’s here too.

Digging through his pockets for spare change, all he could find was a few meager pennie’s as the obnoxious noise of his demon-companion scarfing down a double cheeseburger had Chan’ jaw progressively tightening.

“Um, sir, that’s not enough to pay for-“ Without hesitation, Chan lifted his upper lip with his index, revealing the sharply pointed canines underneath and effectively silencing the apron-clad employee, frantically printing his receipt without another word.

Yes, apparently there are perks of being a hell-spawn.

Although, the burger still tasted like shit. What a shame.

Heading to the location wasn’t all too difficult, being that it was rather easy locating such an enormous property surrounded by tall, black hinged gates. The passcode… was another story.

Lucifer was likely laughing his ass off watching them try figuring this out.

“Okay, It’s probably like 666 or something- JESUS— you guys scare me sometimes.” Clutching a hand to his erratic heart with panic, a pacing Jisung nearly toppled over as his soon-to-be Boss suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gates slowly opening behind him.

He may not be a Demon, but by how nonchalantly he appeared from thin air, he seemed to gain some attributes over the years.

It didn’t take long for either of them to figure out why the title “Devil’s Plaything” was attached, because the more he toured them around this palace of a house, the more he told of his reasons for hiring them in the first place. Well, more like why Lucifer sent them here.

Easily speaking, his and Jisung’s role would be to protect you at all costs, considering your father’s current predicament (a.k.a coming under investigation for the bodies discovered in Hanuel Park). Not to mention the countless assassins sent on a daily basis, scouring the property for entryways.

Although he’s not surprised by their hesitance. This man, Yoon L/N, was the closest resemblance to the Devil on Earth.

He was terrifying, and coming from a demon, that said a lot.

Chan has to watch his tongue, because he’s not guarding another one of hell’s representatives, a creature of unprecedented rudeness and hatred, he’s guarding a human.

Someone who falls in love and cries, someone who can’t get away with murder when they’re annoyed and go uncharged.

Humans are pitiful. They’re emotional and too trusting and—

You step down the stairs.

They’re pretty and soft and really, really fucking pretty.

The sound of your father clearing his throat rips him from his trance, your trance.

He can practically sense Jisung choking on his laughter.

“Y/n, these are your bodyguards. Bahng, Han, this is Y/n,” He gestures, and Chan notes the gleaming watch on his wrist.

Best guess that thing’s averaging $70,000. Not to mention that this entire house, though naked to the human eye, is laced in traps.

Whether it’s the more hollow wooden plank on the floor that triggers some alarm or the multitude of switches under your kitchen’s island, the security system is certainly intact, and for good reason.

However, you couldn't have made Yoon L/n’s actions look more hypocritical, appearing so opposingly sweet.

“Nice to meet you,” You hold out a hand.

He doesn’t miss the half-smile you give him.

Shit. Don’t look at him like that.

Introducing themselves, you momentarily slip past, and in your stead, your father beckons either of them to the side.

“I’ll only say this once,” Yoon smiles, but it’s a leery smile, one that causes his gums to gradually show, like it’d belong to a murderer, a serial killer of some kind.

Fitting.

“Get her into danger, hurt her, or disobey my orders under any circumstances and I kill you, understood?”

And even though at the snap of a finger Chan could have this man drop dead, he believed him, both simultaneously nodding their heads without complaint.

Meeting eyes with Jisung, a common denominator sits heavy between them, most likely the first thing they’ve whole-heartedly agreed on this entire time.

This is gonna be one hell of a job.

.. .

District 9’s nightclubs are always a bust. If you’re looking for a drink without it being laced you might as well give up, and the only thing that keeps a person from getting swept away in the expansive sea of high heels, go-go boots, and awkward teenagers that miraculously managed to get past the bouncer is a lone, blinking red sign that reads “OUT”.

The first time you ever came here you never thought you’d be so relieved to open a squealing door.

Leaning against the side of the brick building sits the girl responsible for an entourage of drunk-calls and random texts of her location when she sneaks out.

Her moth-eaten sneakers are pulled up to her chest, bleached hair messily arranged into a spiky up-do while she aimlessly scrolls on her phone. Although you know she’s noticed you by now.

“I feel like..” She sighs, black mascara smudged beneath her waterline. “I should’ve taken that Vodka shot.”

You wrinkle your nose, dropping down on her left.

It’s fairly easy conversing with Ha-joon, a girl who didn’t require a reaction or a response, who didn’t talk much but had a whole pocketful of opinions. And you listened.

She swivels her head ever so slightly toward you.

“Do you think drinking a laced shot will make my life more interesting?” Her remark scarily nonchalant, you chuckle, snatching the joint from between her thumb and index and tossing it against the neighboring business’ wall in front of you.

Unfazed, she rises to her feet, pulling a Marlboro pack from her back pocket, palm cupping the lighter’s flickering flame.

“If you count fentanyl as a good time, then sure,” Lifting your chin to cock a sarcastic brow, she rolls her eyes before abruptly snapping her fingers, remembering. The sound ricochets off trash bags stashed at the furthest end of this deserted alleyway.

“You said your Mafia-daddy hired new bodyguards?”

Ah, you forgot you mentioned that.

Don’t mind the “Mafia-daddy” part.

Nodding, there’s a beat of stillness before she lightly nudges your calf with her shoe, Ha-joon’s sign for you to list some sort of detailed description for her to piece together.

This happens every time you meet somebody new. Her little guessing game before the first impression, apparently.

And so you do, spilling information to the best of your capabilities from the fifteen seconds you met them. Their hair, height, eyes (you recall Han’s especially, huge and hypnotizing like black-holes), clothing, and all the details your jumbled brain can pour out to your overly eager, easily bored best friend.

“So this Chan guy..”

One clever glance and you’re already predicting her next words.

“Does he have a big nose?” Smirk growing the darker your cheeks redden, you pathetically groan, burying your face in your hands.

Of course she’s cornered you, because you can’t deny your yes of an answer without evidently lying and digging further into your self-made rabbit hole.

Leave it to Ha-joon to secretly slip the raunchiest sentence you'll hear all night.

Smugness gradually dissipating, the barely-blonde shuffles back down, phone screen displaying countless messages you don't ask about.

Like earlier, Ha-joon doesn’t talk much, but she has a lot to say. Additionally, if she doesn’t bring it up herself, don’t mention it.

Years by her side taught you that.

“They’re only gonna get you in trouble, I have a feeling,” She murmurs prior to taking a long drag of her cigarette, lipstick shade perfectly contrasting with the soaring puff of smoke sifting from her mouth and nose upon exhaling.

She’s always been on the rougher side. Spontaneously rough, the type that would impulsively send you a text she’s going backpacking tomorrow despite an exam scheduled, the type that would continuously run away on a whim.

In essence, everyone on campus has some sort of crush on her (apart from yourself, obviously), whether it comes down to her rumbling persona or how much of a hard-core lesbian she is, you’re not sure.

You click your tongue, glaring at her flippantly.

“And that’s not doing you any better.” Musing in regards to her bad habits, she laughs lowly, low-rise jeans bagging down by her ankles while bending closer.

Your hands brace in anticipation, coughing when she blows a heavy smoke plume right in your face.

You choke a giggle, shoving her senselessly giggling frame.

“The only thing I’m letting do me is that waitress in there,” Painted nails pointing to the entrance while making utterly obscene gestures, you dramatically gag.

Well, until she spins on her heel, fetching a plastic bag holding two bottles of Cass beer from behind a metal trash can.

You tilt your head, the girl wordlessly cracking one open with her teeth and the other using the junction of her shoulder.

‘A Ha-joon thing’, you think as she hands you a glass, chilled exterior sending an unwelcoming wave of shivers throughout your body.

Your initial response is to decline, but her index to your lips shushes your reasons.

“I know you don’t drink often, but just a few sips just this once, please?” Batting invisible puppy-dog eyes, you sigh, gulping down a haphazard swig.

Last time you had genuinely gotten drunk was back in junior year of high school, all the kids swarmed in a rando’s basement, acting appropriately irresponsible for your age.

You recall your fat crush on Hwang Hyunjin (before realizing he was actually in a relationship) being the main component in getting so drunk that you blacked out, though you’re sure the highly unflattering pictures Ha-joon took would jog your memory.

Yet just a few sips was an understatement, something you should’ve known. Because conversation turns into more conversation, funny conversation, deep conversation while your wrist unconsciously lifts to your mouth till your friend transforms into nothing but a blurry figure illuminated by the moon.

And you wonder, as you feel yourself tilt further and further toward the cement below, if Ha-joon will snap unflattering pictures of this moment too, of stupid decisions leading to stupid consequences.

Most likely.

.. .

"Mmm." You mumble, face stuffed into his sleeve as Chan carries you from the alleyway, ushering a loopy Ha-joon into a taxi with a short bow.

Clad in his work attire primarily made up of black elements, he carefully places you in the back seat of the SUV and pulls off his dark coat to wrap around your body, ensuring you're fully swaddled to secure as much warmth as possible from the biting cold.

"We're going home, so hang on just a bit longer for me." The man assures, patting your head lightly before sliding into the driver's seat and pressing his foot to the gas.

Han, who was sitting in the back beside you while Chan drove, took experimental peeks at the pink-hue decorating your cheeks (evidence that you'd be drunk) to your puffy lips pursed in a pout.

He internally squeals, fiddling with his phone in his pocket, unveiled demon tail practically wagging with glee.

"Hyung, can I? Pleasee Hyung- just one photo she looks so cute–“

“No." The older of them responds sternly, one hand clutching the steering wheel.

As much as he normally wouldn’t care, this was his- their first actual order in fulfilling their duties, and Chan wasn’t willing to pay the price of fucking up Yoon’s guidelines.

His companion huffs, deflating by your side as he directs a childish frown at Chan in the mirror, only met with an equally stern gaze reading "no nonsense".

Chan had always been one to take his job seriously, not that Han didn't, he just liked having a little bit of fun jumping from side to side across those permanent marker drawn lines.

In actuality, if it weren't for his friend, Han would've never gotten the job in the first place.

Stark glowing of your houses’ lights lining the driveway ripped away his thought process, quickly intervening when your door opened.

"I can carry her," He claims, arms crossed while the older bodyguard simply cocks a brow, an action that shouldn't have Jisung shying away like he was.

There's an immense staring contest until Chan releases a hefty sigh, gesturing for Jisung to go ahead.

"If you drop her, I kill you, then myself."

This earns a giggle while Han unbuckles your seatbelt, softly cooing with you lying in his arms.

You're cute, very cute in fact.

Very off limits, in fact, he reminds himself, grip tightening the creepier he pictures your father—and it’s the adorable scrunch of your nose in discomfort that reminds him of his strength, immediately relaxing his hold.

Like Chan said, any wrong moves and they're both off the radar in seconds. Business.

The entirety of it all was a bit hilarious considering how things were when you'd first been introduced to the two, not appearing to be the type to get drunk like this, to get drunk at all in a secluded area next to some nightclub.

Chan wasn’t wrong when he said it’s always a surprise with clients.

Well, he was referring to his hitman job then, but it's still applicable in this situation, right?

…Right?

Forget it.

Slowly, oh so slowly your eyes peel open, instantly noticing the familiar smell and interior that definitely wasn't where you'd been five minutes ago with Ha-joon.

Ah. There he is.

Chan.

Peering over where you're tucked in bed, dressed in pajamas.

Hold on, pajamas?

Scrambling up and simultaneously wincing from the throbbing headache settling a dull ring in your ears, you send him an incredulous stare, face incessantly warming the longer you think about it.

Hangovers provide another of the many reasons why you don’t drink anymore, because this hellish predicament led to a single hellish explanation you certainly didn’t want to face.

"You... My clothes.." Stumbling over how to phrase it, you suppress a scowl watching the ghost of a grin make its way on his lips. Maybe you're imagining it.

One of his veiny hands reaches up to cover his eyes, leaving you to instead infatuate upon plush lips moving when he speaks.

"My job description, along with the papers you read and signed before I was hired gave me consent, but whatever I see is strictly confidential between you and I."

Gathering your sanity, you scoff, humiliation and embarrassment flooding your system at an alarming rate.

Flopping back onto the bed, you slam a pillow over your face, muttering a "strictly confidential my ass" that he had to have heard from the low laugh uttered in reply.

He stalks over, fingertip tapping the water you hadn’t noticed sitting atop your nightstand.

Cautiously stealing a glimpse out from your pillow to see where he distanced himself across the room, you finish the cup in a swift motion, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.

“You huma- You aren’t good with your alcohol, are you?” He starts, quite entertained witnessing your annoyed gaze, one which very noticeably doesn’t stay focused on his eyes.

Sucking your teeth, you slouch, mirroring his crossed arms.

You’re fine with playing feisty, and by the awfully attractive way he’s cocking his head, he’s also willing to join this biting game.

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because I’m never passed out and in need of someone to call for me when I go drinking.”

At this you practically hiss, grasping any futile chance to retaliate to no avail.

Opposed to his teasing nature, he drags a stool to your bedside, insisting you drink more.

Even more opposing, a gentle hand presses to your forehead, checking that you haven't contracted a fever.

To say your heartbeat pounded didn’t credit the surprise to its full extent, and thank whatever God above the experience only lasted a few more seconds, giving you plenty of time to freshen your haywire sensibility and brush your teeth before any more soul-sucking Chan run-ins continued.

You should’ve known better than to think he’d truly leave you be though, said soul-sucking bodyguard currently propped against the bathroom’s door frame.

“How did you get into this anyway? Y’know, bodyguard stuff..” You begin to ask, voice muffled from the toothbrush deterring any fully audible sentence.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“I have my ways.”

“Your ways?”

Within split seconds he’s right next to you, making rather intentional eye contact through the mirror.

You inhale sharply.

“Look, sweetness, my job as your bodyguard is to keep you safe,” He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “And if I tell you, I can’t guarantee that.”

There are three things you realized in that moment.

One, Chan is so, so close.

Two, he has an unfairly gorgeous face.

And three, your mouth is smeared with toothpaste.

Great.

You’d like to admit the first night of meeting these new bodyguards, more specifically Chan, went as normal and as non-Ha-joon-influenced as possible, but this effect on you causing your bloodstream to erupt in a hormonal frenzy of attraction told you the story had just begun.

.. .

"Jisung. Hold. Still! Keep moving and this wand is going in your eyeball."

Three weeks in and one thing after another has lead you closer and closer with either of them, whether it's convincing Jisung to go on ice cream runs (where Chan always ends up tagging along) or attempting to remain focused while they help you study (more like trying not to laugh at Jisung and averting your eyes off of Chan’s biceps in that muscle-shirt of his), the three of you are practically conjoined at the hip, and not on bodyguard standards.

"Okay okay! I was itchy. Can you move the piece of hair by my eyebrow?" He whines, grasping an apologetic squeeze on your waist while you focus in his lap.

You’re currently brushing mascara through his unfairly long lashes, but if anyone saw this without knowing the situation, chaos would likely unfold.

Although for you and Jisung, it's your average Friday night spent watching the weekly scary movie he’d decided on, Insidious. One he’d been commenting on for the past thirty minutes or so about how the “representation of demon’s was wrong” while you absentmindedly agreed, looping your index around the strand before abruptly stopping.

Residing slightly above his temple lay a scar, a decently sized scar at that.

Strangely enough, it's circular, like some type of horn or something had been there at some point. Maybe a biking incident?

"Ji?”

The boy's eyes drift up to you.

"What's this scar?"

Below you, he freezes, frantically thinking up the best excuse.

Lots of options, not a lot of time to decide.

"Ah.. that? When I was younger, I developed a weird kind of bump there, 'had it removed." And thankfully, you grunt a response, resorting back to applying his makeup.

Truth be told, those scars (another you hadn't seen yet) were his old horns, forced to be removed in order to initially land this job.

It still sends shivers down his spine thinking about when they had first been cut off, the recovery process resembling something out of nightmares.

Trust, the headaches were awful.

Chan, on the other hand, could keep his, considering he had the ability to conceal them on command. For Jisung, an inferior red-eyed demon with a few years beneath him and in such desperate need for income, chose the painful way through. As for his tail, that was luckily simple to hide (much to his pleasure).

Nevertheless, you could confidently say that your test-subject could easily land a modeling career after your makeover, and by the way he kept staring at the mirror, he seemed equally as enamored as you.

Well, that’s before a jumpscare leaps upon the screen and either of you shoot up, your clumsy companion whacking himself in the face with the mirror.

Staving your giggles, you try soothing the boy; you really do, but the uncannily gory scene that decorates the screen has you cringing back, and when you look at Jisung, expecting to find him cowering, your blood runs cold.

His lips are parted, but the only thing your horrified eyes are drawn to are the hooked canines peeking there. Not to mention his eyes.

Ghastly crimson, glowing.

Except when you breathe in an unsteady gasp, his head snaps to you, sudden facade appearing unaltered, like you hadn't seen something borderline terrifying.

Softly pulling your face close to him despite the screaming instinct to flee, he observes your bewildered expression, brows taut with concern.

“Y/n?”

Sweet tone contradicting, you immediately double backward toward your bedroom door, awkwardly honing the “I’m going to bed” excuse in hopes that suffices for the night.

Frenziedly closing the door, you determine rather quickly you don’t plan to go to sleep. Not that you think you could, but because this discovery isn’t normal.

None of this is normal.

How they found your location back at the alley despite Ha-joon never contacting anyone, how you “coincidentally” walked in on Chan “washing” his hands despite the water running red. Oh and you can’t forget about the rag left behind, putrid stench characteristic to a specific substance.

Blood.

You weren’t stupid. No father disappears the majority of the year on so-called “business trips” only to come back with new cuts and scratches he makes a sorry effort denying, and no daughter of his has literal bodyguards (yet you’re not sure they’re even official bodyguards thanks to your suspicions) glued to her side 24/7.

He does something dangerous, you know without doubt. But according to this hunch of yours, your father may not be the only one tied up in illegal madness.

.. .

Slipping into the car unknown to them was far easier than you anticipated.

You didn't plan on sneaking in in the first place, sure, but upon overhearing their hushed conversation regarding some type of “target”, you assumed whatever topic they were discussing may answer a select few of your billions of burning questions.

So, crouched in the floorboard of the backseat, you try muting your breathing, noting the clutter of metal sounding from your left, whatever responsible assumed to be shoved in the trunk.

Weapons. No mistaking it.

Your discovery is short-lived however, and you flatten yourself the best you can as Han twists around in his seat to grab something, already thirty minutes into your nearly secret mission.

Shit.

His shocked scream tells you enough.

Chan is fuming.

"Jisung, you told me she was asleep. So care to explain why the fuck she's in the back of the car?"

Han frantically flails. "For the record I told you she was lying down–”

"I. Don't. Care! She's not supposed to be here and all that matters right now is that she's at home and in bed, understood?"

As Jisung's lips pull into a tight line and Chan cranks the gear shift into drive, you glance around, a sudden–though risky–idea coming to mind.

"Hey, I could always tag along?"

"No!" They both shout in unison, heads jerking back to face you as if you suggested driving off a cliff.

That sounded much better in your head anyway.

Well there goes that.

Or so you thought.

Because unfortunately for them, wherever needed them needed them urgently, and through many clearly vocalized “she is staying in the car”’s, you weren’t driven home after all.

Fluorescent green lights cast an eerie glow across the perimeter, the location gnawing at your gut. An equestrian center by exterior, though there’s something else.

Wrong. You can’t explain it, but this place is wrong.

Discreetly unloading the guns, you skin crawls observing Chan messily stuff bullets into the magazine of a M240, the mere size of the thing setting your nerves ablaze. And as rightful asking questions seems, you can’t.

That feeling from earlier glues your mouth shut, like if you spoke too loudly, someone, something, would find you.

Thick foliage lay highlighted by your headlights, paving depth into sequential darkness.

You squint, zoning in on a small expanse of branches ajar. An ideal hiding spot.

Wait.

Bright flashes of iron spur your legs into motion, the switchblade cleaning slicing your wrist while mid-duck.

It forks into the car’s interior where the trunk had been opened, your cry of pain muffled by Jisung who basically throws himself inside a stall with you, the stomping of horse’s hooves muting your ragged breathing.

Firing belonging to none other than the machine gun Chan had been wielding pierces the air outside as either of you stay pressed to the stable wall, the pad of footsteps drawing nearer, causing your eyes to squeeze shut.

This is it. You’re going to die.

Much to your relief, it’s Chan, tactical holsters slightly torn, sweat beading his forehead.

The two share a look, remaining silent before delivering an eventual, affirming nod.

Short-lived.

An additional attacker sifts from the shadows, facial expression ushering no other logic than to kill.

Manic eyes, estranged eyes.

The older bodyguard spins, successfully blocking the first hit. Supplies are scattered everywhere, horses beginning to shift uncomfortably.

The perpetrator is faster, smaller, and lands a decent punch into his abdomen. However, the attack is futile, and just before he can stake his knife into Chan’s leg does the bigger man utilize his own weapon, ammunition positively bludgeoning every square inch of the assailant in baited seconds.

You understand why machine guns are strictly used for long range now.

Immediately, soft numbness floods your senses due to Han’s hands covering your eyes and ears, and you sit there for a while, blocked from the grotesque view of impalpable violence being enacted right before you.

You’d forgotten you were huddled together on the other side of the wall, too horrifically immersed.

It's strange. So much is strange.

These two men that you've grown effortlessly close to, grown effortlessly friends with, murder. Defensively in this case, yes, but they hadn’t brought those guns by chance, they brought them by intention.

Not just a twisted hobby like dissecting animals or something along those lines, but murder.

You’re sure they have their reasons, but it's difficult even imagining it. People who are extremely gentle when with you, responsible for such doings.

Talk about a duality.

The faint clatter of gun shells rattling against the marble flooring earns a subtle flinch, Jisung's hands cupping closer to your skin.

Then you smell it, what he'd warned you of no matter the cleanliness of the job.

A metallic, burning scent of blood, causing your nose to burn and your throat to grow increasingly dry.

Your stomach churns.

"You don't forget that smell" Chan had said before leaving the vehicle, and you knew what he was referring to now.

Putrid reek of rot and gunpowder beckon your lungs into fight or flight, but you remain still, ignoring the sharp sting of your wrist, bubbling blood dripping down your arm and onto the floor below, right atop your shoe.

Faint falling of bullet shells put an end to the fighting, then you’re blindly directed out the door without so much as a glance behind you. For your own good, you assume.

Hell, you’re not certain they’ll be much left of the bodies after Chan’s wrath.

As for right now, your top priority is your wrist. Swollen, skin tainted a grueling red shade.

Speeding home, you find yourself blurily recalling events, though all the little details simply swirl into strange shapes.

Shock is what it’s called. That state of monotonous wandering, occurrence too unfamiliar to take in, senses turning off. A coping mechanism of some sort.

Blearily you see the two men, talking, stepping out of the room, grabbing medical supplies. Like you’re in a time warp, dreaming. No pain, hurt.

On the other hand, your bodyguards were frantic, spewing curses and scouring the household for proper first aid materials.

Meanwhile, Chan was finally wrapping your wound in the bandages Jisung spotted, blinking madly in hopes his fogging headspace eased up.

Demons and wounds were not a good combination. Especially not human wounds.

Uncontrollable urges instructed him to tear you apart right this minute, do something, anything to quench that inexplicably demanding thirst.

Vulnerable, easy prey. His thoughts chanted, forcing him to step out of the room for a moment to where Jisung perched, close-pin fastened on his nose to block the mouth-watering smell.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” He heaves, carding stressed fingers through matted hair.

“What, a little blood getting to a white-eyed demon?” His companion muses, hastily dodging Chan’s swinging fist. Immune to his threats.

It’s obvious to Jisung that’s only half of the story, but he’ll wait for his superior to admit it himself.

“It’s not just the blood,” He inhales deeply, gratefully accepting the water Han offered. “It’s her.”

Go figure.

To be honest, Jisung wasn’t good at pretending.

Well, in terms of lying he was a natural (a given, after all), but pretending he hadn’t caught onto his friend’s enormous attraction to you was technically impossible.

Quite surprising though, to think such an arrogant demon would’ve ended up like this.

Susceptible, willing. For a human.

Who would’ve thought.

.. .

It’s nothing short of a roller coaster regaining your stable consciousness. Chest wracking, world spinning. You’re situated in bed, injury carefully wrapped(though you can’t recall by who).

The doorknob rattles, and in walks Chan, except, you don’t feel happy, relieved.

Scared. You feel extremely scared.

“What- What are you?” Waver revealing your anxiousness, you curse the subtle tremble.

He smiles.

“Aren’t you a perceptive little one,” His voice dips lower, and as he edges closer, you find yourself pressing further into the pillow behind your head.

“I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions, so I’ll make it easy for you.” He lifts his curls, two perfectly placed horns residing there.

“We’re demons. He and I are different species, but both demons.”

Demons.

Demons.

Instantaneously, a tidal wave or realization crashes salty water into your lungs, expertly piecing your observations together. Red eyes, horn-like scars.

How had you not caught on earlier?

Momentarily, you meet his eyes. Still brown, although you wonder how deep of a red they’d stain, glaze over stunning vermillion or dusky cinnamon tones.

“Species?”

He hums.

“Red-eyed are the best at persuasion, that’s Jisung. I’m a white-eyed demon.”

So neither crimson nor cinnamon, you decide. Perhaps pale, opal color.

“White-eyed demons are usually Satan’s lap dogs, but what lots of people don’t know,” You crane forward to hear his next words, and he leans in as well. “Is that we’re also the most desired species, the most lustful.”

Lustful.

The words don’t truly sink in, and by the time they do, it’s impossible to rip the mischievous look from his eyes.

"What’s that supposed to mean.." You grumble, avoid his darkening stare.

A subtle tap on your thigh has your attention immediately shfiting, your entire body instinctively jolting.

"You want me to show you?" He begins with a laugh, a low, husky laugh that has your stomach tying knots. Not the usual, squeaky laugh, but one that's different, very different. "But if you say yes, I’m sure no one else can satisfy you the way I can."

Your expression pinches with annoyance, a bit offed by his sudden cockiness.

Granted, he looks heaven-sent despite being a demon, and you doubt he'd be any different in bed, but c'mon now, you have a right to be suspicious.

"And how're you so sure of that?" Leaning back on your arms where he sits in front of you, you fixate on the way kinky locks perfectly line the crown of his head, one particularly messy strand tipping over to linger above chocolate pools for eyes.

"Sweetness, Jisung are I are carved out of sin, there's not a particle in our body not built to fuck."

God. Hearing "fuck" come out of his mouth shouldn't have been that attractive. Chan had always been well-mannered, well-spoken, so to hear him say something vulgar for the first time, nonetheless "fuck", effected you more than you'd like to admit.

Slowly, oh so slowly he crawls on the bed, kind tip of his head betraying sinful intent.

“You want this?” He whispers, and your arms immediately wrap around his neck, tugging him into your lips fervently, needily, with a short nod of approval between sighs and stifled groans.

Your wrist aches, but from how heated this kiss is becoming, that matter is the least of your problems.

He feels like fire, tastes like it, nectarine on your tongue.

You waste nimble time undressing, suppressing a high-pitched mewl the longer he sucks deep purple love bites into your neck and down your collarbones, likely to be bruised tomorrow.

He’s careful, learning your body, your sounds. Touch light as a feather, not enough.

He’s big, that’s a given. Head red and angry with thick beads of precum apparent, you can’t possibly think straight, his name the only sensible word falling off your swollen lips.

Chan Chan Chan.

Brows knitting as his fat head bumps your entrance, you murmur pleas, practically delusional on his pleasure, his love.

Most desired, you understand what he meant by that.

“Feel good? Yeah? That's a good girl."

You can feel your entire body keen at the praise, utterly blissful from how amazing he was making you feel.

The stretch of his fat cock has your common-sense threading dangerously thin, head falling back, fingernails raking his back. Delirious.

When he actually started moving? Yeah, you’re convinced you paid a visit to cloud nine, fucked-out brain recognizing only the squelch of your bodies connecting and the squeaky, absolutely desperate sounds he’s pulling from your throat.

Not to mention his voice, accent thickening tremendously the longer he ruined your drooling cunt.

His, his, his.

"Shit- you feel fuckin' divine," He kissed the sweaty skin of your calf hiked over his shoulder, ankle held by a strong hand while the other occupied your hip, squeezing and kneading with each heavy thrust.

Chan wasn't lying about being carved out of sin, fucking like an absolute animal to the point tears began welling in your eyes, overstimulated and euphoric beyond belief as your hands shakily reach upward.

Obediently, he lowers himself, letting you hold his face for some sense of security while feeling so vulnerable.

You pathetically search his eyes, head thrown back after one particular roll of his hips that earns a rumbling moan from the man.

Each time he bottoms out it feels like you're losing it, rubbing that gummy spot that makes your heels dig into his shoulders and your moans transform into high-pitched cries, shuddering.

"Channie- Oh fuck Channie- I can't It's too much-"

Practically gasping for air to ease the buzzing fuzziness blinding you, you cherish the equally mind-numbing kiss he soothes, pressure in your lower tummy building and building at a flying pace.

"Yes you can, bunny. 'Need to cum? C'mon, cum for me, 'atta girl." He tuts, slowing himself down with each squeeze of your cunt signaling your approaching release.

Torturous.

Nothing like this, never in all his life had he felt something like this. So delicate and fragile as you look up at him, glossy dolly eyes far too tempting.

At this point it was an obligation to stuff your pussy full.

Rolling your puffy nub in tight circles, your thighs twitch, gripping the pillow behind your head like a vice as the sharp knot in your stomach finally snaps and a near pornographic sound rips from your throat, back arching off the bed.

The sight of you has his eyes nearly rolling back, so ruined and angel-like. You're a white rose in a field of wilting grasses. Bloomed in his ill-fated fingertips.

His pants stifle, big hands holding the back of your thighs spread for him. His pace stutters, and with a gritted whine of your name he slams his hips, painting your aching cunt white.

The last thing he anticipated visiting the human realm was to find himself in this situation.

And whether he liked to admit it or not, if the Devil had your father wrapped around his finger, you had him tied up without a chance of escape.

So while you both scrambled to clean up your evidence and not fall over your own feet hearing Jisung clumsily drop a clattering frying pan in the kitchen, he thinks, if only for a second, he’d be okay with it.

Being yours, that is.

FIC TAGLIST. @y-ur--i @atinism @darknova2319 @producedbyhanjisung @knightoftime21 @leonswifesstuff

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#stray kids fluff #straykids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #straykids x reader #stray kids smut #straykids smut #skz smut #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

(astarion / acebard!tav)

Astarion never received any gifts before - and if he did, he forgot - but he would have loved for the first giver to be his lover, although they seemed pretty occupied with Gale and an object that suspiciously looked like a present.

(not native in english. so sorry if the wording is clusmy in some parts, i wan't sure how to write this xD)

A/N: I made a few adjustments, but I think I know what you're getting at. Hopefully it still works. Also, this turned out way more than five sentences because I have no self control.

Astarion x AsexualBard!Tav Masterlist

Word Count: 921

Astarion couldn't remember the last time he received a gift. The idea of being gifted anything was down right laughable. Nobody truly gave anything without expecting something in return. Some way, some how a price would be paid. He didn't need that hanging over his head, along with everything else. So why did seeing you hand Gale a wrapped parcel sting so much?

He watched as the wizard pulled apart the paper, his brows furrowed with curiosity clearing into a bright smile.

"Oh this is perfect!" he exclaimed. "How did you get it?"

"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, grinning yourself.

Gale opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped himself with a guilty look. "Perhaps it's best I say thank you and leave it at that."

"What do you know, intelligent and wise," you teased. "Just make sure to pace yourself. Don't read it all in one night."

"I've made a point never to make promises I can't keep."

You laughed, giving Gale a light squeeze on the arm before turning in Astarion's direction.

He schooled his features into a casual expression, trying and failing to ignore the burning in his chest. Admittedly the fond look in your eyes did quell the fires, at least a little.

"Successful day?" he asked.

"More or less," you said, taking a seat beside him. "We've got a map. No way to read it just yet, but it's a start."

Astarion humphed, nodding in Gale's direction. "And that?"

"Just some petty thief," you explained. "Gale expressed an interest in it last time we were in town. Couldn't for the life of me explain why, but the bookseller refused to sell. Terrible way to run a business if you ask me."

This was normally when he would laugh or at least grant you an approving smile. Truly, he did love your casual relationship thievery, but it only made him more frustrated. He'd almost preferred you'd paid for it. If you had, he could dismiss the whole thing as a simple errand and not something more.

You frowned slightly, clearly taking notice of his mood.

"Alright, what's got you pouting?"

"I'm not pouting," he said, indignantly. "I'm brooding. There's a difference."

"My apologizes," you said, dryly. "What's got you brooding, oh mysterious one?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pressing into a hard line.

"I'm just surprised you would go so out of your way for a book. It's not as if you'd be able to understand it anyway."

A flash of hurt struck across your face, but you pushed it down in a way that made him sick to his stomach. What in the hells was wrong with him?

"Well, it's a good thing it wasn't for me then," you said, stiffly. "Now are you done being childish or are you actually going to tell me what's going on?"

Astarion tried to maintain eye contact in some vain attempt to hold onto his pride, but it was no use. He ducked his head down, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"I...I don't see why you think Gale is worth the effort is all," he admitted. "It's just a stupid book. It's not as if it's useful to the rest of us. So...why bother?"

He chanced a glance in your direction. You just stared at him, your lips slightly parted as you took him in.

"Astarion, are you jealous?" you finally asked.

"No," he said, a little too quickly, even to his ears.

"So what else would you call being upset over the fact I stole something specifically for Gale and not you?"

"I'm not upset," Astarion objected. "I'm just..."

"Brooding?"

He very much wanted to say something devastating in that moment, that would shut you up and let him walk away from this with some kind of dignity; but, he couldn't think of a damned thing.

"Fine, I'm jealous," he spat. "Happy?"

"Not really."

He closed his eyes, letting out a short sigh. He deserved that.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "You're right, it's...petty and I shouldn't have said that to you. Gods know if it were anyone else I would have torn their throat out."

He looked to you then, hoping you would see the honest truth in his words.

"I wish I was better at this. I know you care about me and I don't need you to commit robbery to prove it. Although, I wouldn't be opposed to it."

To his relief, a small crack of a smile turned at the corner of your mouth.

"I'll keep that in mind," you said, some of the teasing coming back into your voice.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" he asked.

"Only if you mean it."

He didn't have an answer for that. At least, not right away.

With deliberate care, he slipped his hand into yours, raising it to his lips.

He watched as your eyes widened in surprise, only to soften as he pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers. His eyes never strayed from yours. He needed you to see him too.

"I mean it," he said.

A true smile came to your lips, as you nodded. "Then you are forgiven."

He returned your smile, feeling a lightness in his chest only you seemed to grant him.

Perhaps he was wrong in his assessment. He had been given many gifts since meeting you. You practically showered him with them every single day, and damn him for taking any of them for granted.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #asexual!tav #bard!tav #astarion x evie

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Banchan x F!Reader & Jisung x F!Reader TW : Bangchans : pregnancy ; morning sickness ; general angst ;. Jisungs : menstrual cycles ; really bad period cramps ; Han being an asshole ;. BOTH : FLUFF AT THE END I SWEAR!! Word Count : Bangchan (2.1k) Han (2.2k) TOTAL : 4.3k Request : This is so heavily requested!! I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting!! Chan's specific theme was requested so I'm fulfilling that one right now with this! I will do the other members as well, I'll get to them, I promise!!

Bangchan

Nausea was usually something that you were able to overcome quite quickly, you’d just drink a little bit of water and lay down until the feeling subsided. It wasn’t something that would keep you from doing the chores that you promised Chan that you’d do, it definitely would never stop you from making sure dinner was ready for when he came back from the office. Chan worked hard, and although he always told you that you didn’t have to do all that you did while he was gone, you thought that it was the least you could do. 

Today in particular was by far the worst day, and your attempt at swallowing back the bile in your throat as you normally would when you’d start getting that queasy feeling in your stomach was proven pointless. It was a miracle that you were even able to make it to the bathroom in time to lean over the toilet, your throat burning from the acids that came up from your empty stomach as you heaved over the seat. 

Throwing up was awful, but throwing up literal bile was the worst. Your head was spinning and your stomach felt way too tight from the constant retching, the feeling almost making you throw up again. The taste in your mouth was just as bad, and you pushed yourself up off the floor to drink the water from the faucet out of the palm of your hands. Beads of sweat clung to your forehead and you felt absolutely exhausted just from the physical exertion it took to throw up. A quick nap wouldn’t be bad, you’d wake up before Chan got home and you’d have everything done by the time he got through the door. At least, that’s how you planned on things going this evening. 

Of course he didn’t expect everything to be done for him when he came home from work, he didn’t start dating you so that you could be a maid and a chef for him, he genuinely just loved being with you. That didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate it though, and some nights he’d even look forward to it, especially on nights like tonight. The new song he was working on just didn’t seem to line up right, he couldn’t find any source of motivation, he had been at work for hours but he hadn’t gotten anything done. He was annoyed, he was upset with himself, he was hungry, and he was tired. 

“Babe, I’m home.” He called out, kicking his shoes off after walking through the front door, his eyes finally glancing up and looking around when he realized just how quiet it was. Not just that, but the smell of dinner wasn’t wafting through the house… There was no smell at all, which was strange. Your shoes were still in the doorway, perfectly straight right next to his. Maybe it’s just because he was running a little late and you didn’t want to make dinner too early… You must be in the bathroom or something. 

He continued in through the house, making his way to the bedroom and slowly opening it. Now, deep down he knew that he shouldn’t be mad, you were his girlfriend, not his servant, but something about the sight of you curled up underneath the blanket, surrounded by toppled over laundry piles… It was infuriating. You really just decided halfway through that you didn’t want to do it and you just… took a nap. 

“Must be nice…” He said, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep, your eyes slowly opening before repeatedly blinking to get the sleep out of them. “Look who finally woke up? Did you have a nice nap?” You quickly jolted up, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands before looking around, your mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ when you saw him standing there. “Was one basket of laundry too much for you? Huh?” 

You scanned over the piles of laundry, whispering out a curse before scooting across the bed towards them, trying to refold and situate them as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t feeling well. My stomach’s been acting up lately… I don’t know what’s wrong.” You murmured, grabbing out balls of clothes that were still tangled up in the basket. “I’m thinking… Maybe-” 

“Maybe it’s because you’re lazy?” He cut you off, and your head whipped up fast to look at him wide eyed. “I mean, good god, who falls asleep while folding one basket of laundry?” His head shook as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what, just go back to sleep. Clearly you can’t even do the simplest of things.” 

“N-No, it’s…” Tears were already stinging at your eyes as you rushed to fold the clothes in front of you. “I just don’t feel good… I don’t know what’s going on… I…” The heavy breathing was causing you to get nauseous again, the feeling of being attacked by him for something that both he and you didn’t even understand. He didn’t even know what was going on, he was never home, and now he was coming down on you. 

He yanked the shirt out of your hand, throwing it back into the basket before picking it up off the floor and carrying it to the door. “You think I don’t get sick? I still have to work. You’re just being ridiculous.” He mumbled, dropping the basket on the floor right outside the door. “It’s whatever though, just go do what you do best. I guess I’ll make dinner tonight after working all day too. Fucking fantastic.” He kicked the basket across the hallway before stepping out and slamming the door behind him. 

The sound of kitchen utensils being slammed against the counter and the fridge being opened and shut forcefully could be heard throughout the house, the constant loud noises causing you to jump, and you wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep even if you wanted to. You didn’t want to though, you wanted to talk to him because whatever was going on was starting to scare you. You had never been this sick for this long, and you didn’t have any other symptoms, it was just the random bouts of nausea. 

Suddenly the smell of ramen was filling the air, and you would usually love the smell of it, but right now it had your stomach turning as every single scent of the different spices filled your nose. “Chan…” You groaned, kicking the blankets off of yourself and heading out of the room. The smell hit you harder now and you covered your mouth and your nose, gagging silently as you moved into the kitchen and turned off the burner much to Chans surprise. 

“The hell are you doing?” He muttered, lightly swatting your hand away to turn it back on, and now just the sight of the red broth boiling in the pot had you retching. “What’s your problem?” He grumbled, moving you to the side as he stirred the contents in the pot, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, leaning over the sink and throwing up, the force behind it sending the bile shooting out of your nose. “Hey! Hey what’s… hey!” He shouted, turning off the burner once more and standing behind you, holding your hair away from your face with one hand as he rubbed your back. 

“Fuck…” You sighed, turning on the spicket and washing out your mouth before grabbing a napkin to blow your nose. “I think I’m dying…” You whispered, a shudder running through you as you dropped down to the floor, leaning your forehead against the cold metal of the dishwasher. Your entire face was covered in sweat and you could barely catch your breath, that alone scaring you even more and causing you to breathe even heavier. 

“C-Calm down, it’s going to be okay.” Chan said, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands firmly cupping your cheeks to look at you. “How long have you been sick like this?” He asked frantically, his thumb quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks. Your shoulders shrugged as you mumbled out a soft “a while” in response. “Jesus Christ… okay. We’re going to the hospital.” 

You laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, hating the fact that you were there but thankful for the lack of IVs. The doctor had taken a couple blood samples and those were the only needles that you had needed for the time being. Now you just wanted to relax, and as tired as you felt, the words that Chan had said earlier had you keeping your eyes open. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were feeling this way? Hmm? You told the doctor it’s been going on for a month and a half almost… How could you not tell me?” 

“You’re always at the office… you’re always working…” You muttered, balling up the blanket in your hands. “I don’t like bothering you while you’re working. You’ve got more important things to do than dealing with me.” You sniffled softly, quickly rolling over onto your side to face away from him, tears trickling down from the corner of your eyes. 

“What are you talking about? You’re extremely important to me, babe.” He cooed, not even bothering to try to roll you back over to face him, instead scooting the rolling chair around to the other side of the bed so he could see you. “All you have to do is call and I’ll come to you, I love you…” 

Your lips pulled together into a thin line as you looked past him. “I should have just laid in bed… went back to sleep and died. It’s what I do best…” He sighed heavily, knowing that those words were only in your head because of what hr had said earlier. He already felt awful about saying them, but now seeing you here like this, he felt even worse. 

“I don’t want you to do that… I want you to be here with me forever…” He whispered, reaching out to caress your cheek, his touch feather light against your clammy skin. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way earlier… But once we find out what’s wrong and when you get better, I’ll make it up to you. Okay? I promise.” 

The knock at the door came and the doctor peaked in, a wide smile on her face as she waved to both you and Chan. It was a strange expression considering you literally thought you were on the brink of death, maybe she was just trying to lighten the mood before delivering the news. “So the results came back.” Chan nodded his head, his breaths becoming quicker as he waited for her to continue, clearly impatient. “Congratulations. You’re pregnant.” 

You blinked a few times, your mind struggling to process the information that was just given to you. Chan was also shocked into a state of silence as he stared at the doctor who was still smiling just as bright. “A baby… Is making her feel like this?” He questioned, and she simply nodded, walking closer to the bed and pulling a sheet of paper off the clipboard she was carrying, the words morning sickness printed in bold letters across the top and underneath a lengthy article about it. “Well… how… how far along is she? Why is she throwing up so much?” 

The doctor giggled lightly as she slipped the clipboard under her arm. “She’s about 4 months right now. Morning sickness can come at any time and it can be just nausea, or it can be actually getting ill. It depends on the person. I’d recommend setting up an appointment with your OBGYN as soon as possible though, just to get you in the system.” She nodded her head, backing up towards the door. “Congratulations again. Whenever you’re ready, you can head on out and sign the release forms at the front desk.” 

Once she was gone, Chan swiveled the chair back in your direction, still slack jawed at the unexpected diagnosis. “Well… You’re not dying, so that’s good…” He said softly, and then, as if the news had fully processed in his mind, his lips slowly pulled up at the corners, his hand holding onto yours as his thumb brushed along your knuckles. “I know this is unexpected… But I know we can do this… I love you, I know already that I want to have a family with you… and there’s nothing wrong with starting a little bit early…” He chuckled softly, standing up and helping you to your feet. “We’re going to be fine. Let’s get home and relax though, take a nap, I think you’ve earned one.”  going to be right here with you the whole time.”

Jisung

“Pookie butt!!” Jisung called from the living room while you were in the bathroom, waiting for you to come out before he continued. He was standing in the doorway, pulling on his shoes, waiting for you to come out to say goodbye to him. Once you emerged from the hallway and ran over to him, his arms were immediately around your hips, his face nuzzling into your neck. “I’m gonna be sleeping at the dorms tonight, I’ll be working late and I know you hate when I come in at weird hours, you get all panicky and scared.” 

“I do not!” You retorted, pushing back against his chest lightly as you looked up at him, but the smile he was wearing never failed to soften you up immediately. His laughter had you giggling along with him, burying your face in his chest as his hands lightly squeezed your sides. 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t come at me swinging a baseball bat one night because I came in at 3 in the morning. You almost killed me, pookie poo.” He teased, and you couldn’t even deny it because it was the truth, and while you had apologized profusely for it for an entire month, now you were able to laugh about it with him. “You gonna be okay though? You gonna be able to sleep without the best boyfriend in the world laying beside you? Hmm? Can you do that? Do you need me to come home tonight?” 

“I think I’ll manage.” You said between little fits of laughter, grabbing his jacket from off the hook and handing it to him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, the one thing that would certainly keep him from teasing you for at least the next 30 seconds. “What time do you think you’ll be back home though? I’m gonna run to the grocery store and get some of your favorite snacks, nothing but the best for my hard working man.” 

His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink at your words, and he quickly kissed you again to try to distract you from noticing it. “This is why you’re the best girlfriend, best pookie poo, my one and only schmookem boops.” He nuzzled his nose against yours, clearly procrastinating, he hated having to leave you, especially if it was over night. “I’ll try to be back by the evening. We can eat some ramen and watch movies, hmm?” You nodded your head in agreement as you opened the door for him, giving him one last kiss before saying goodbye. 

That night you had started your period, and you had fallen asleep with your fingers crossed that the cramps wouldn’t be as bad as they usually were when you woke up. Of course, you weren’t that lucky, and when you did wake up in the morning, it was like your cramps were your personal alarm clock. You could barely even roll over to get out of the bed, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone walk through the grocery store. 

You hated getting your period, it was a pain in the ass in every single way, shape, and form. It had completely slipped your mind that you were due for it, and you didn’t have any pain medication to even slightly reduce the pain from your cramps. You were practically bed ridden, curled up in the fetal position under the blankets, your breaths labored as you tried to get through each one that came so frequently that you weren’t even able to get a break. 

Just the simple task of getting up to get a drink of water left you doubled over in the middle of the kitchen, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to breathe your way through it just to get to the couch. Tears pricked your eyes as every minute your stomach would tighten up and your back would ache and you’d try your best to maneuver into a more comfortable position, but it seemed that there was no way that you could lay to rid yourself of the pain. 

You had tried to call Jisung, but his phone went to voicemail each time, clearly busy with work and you didn’t want to keep bothering him. You hoped that at some point he’d just call you back before he got home and you could tell him what was going on and ask him to bring you some ibuprofen. The only thing you could do at this point was try to sleep through the pain. 

When the door unlocked, you slowly opened your eyes, smiling up to Jisung as he walked through the front door, kicking off his shoes and going over to you. “Looks like you’re already ready for movie night. I’ll just get the snacks, you stay comfy.” He made little finger guns as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and closing as he searched, and if he had answered the phone he would know what was going on, but you didn’t expect him to be so upset about the lack of snacks either. “Where are they?” He called from the kitchen, and you slowly sat up on the couch, looking over the back of it to see him. 

“I didn’t get to go to the store today.” You said, the bright fluorescent bulbs that hung in the kitchen burning your eyes as they glowed behind him, so you quickly laid back down, keeping your eyes shut to try to fight off the headache that threatened to come. “I’m sorry… I just… I’ve been cramping and my head hurts so bad… I couldn’t make it to the store.” 

“Really?” He posed the question, and you thought that for a second he would show some sort of concern like he usually would, but instead he came back into the living room, standing over you as you laid curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. “You really didn’t go to the store because of a couple cramps? There’s girl idols that literally do entire dance routines when they have their periods and you couldn’t walk? Boohoo. Come on, get up. Let’s get the snacks.” 

He reached out to grab your hand, but you quickly pulled it away, your eyes opening just enough to glare at him. You weren’t used to him being so insensitive, and maybe he had a bad day at work, maybe he couldn’t sleep well last night, but whatever the reason, he had no right to practically insult you for not feeling well. “No. I’m in pain, and if you want to go get your fucking snacks so bad, then go get them… But you can go right back to the fucking dorms when you’re done shopping.” You snapped, pulling the blanket up around your face and closing your eyes. 

“Fine!” He retorted loudly, his hands flying up in the air with annoyance as he walked away from you. “But I’m getting really fucking tired of you using your period cramps as a reason to get out of doing literally anything. It isn’t even that bad.” It was like he was trying to piss you off, and it was working really well. He didn’t know shit about the way you were feeling, and for him to assume that you were acting just to get out of going grocery shopping was infuriating. 

“Would you just get the fuck out already?!” You shouted, only for your words to be followed by the door slamming shut, your headache only worsened by the sound of it. You hadn’t even gotten your medicine, and now you were alone once again, and the cramps were only getting worse, and now you were in pain and upset. 

“Weren’t you literally just back home?” Bangchan questioned when Jisung walked through the front door, and he could only assume that the oldest was talking about the fact that he hadn’t even been gone for more than an hour, and when he had left he had excitedly announced that he was having movie night with you. “Did you get Y/N the medicine she needed? She sounded really bad over the phone…” 

Jisung stopped in his tracks on his way to his own room, turning to look back at Chan. “What are you talking about? She called you?” He inquired, slowly walking over to the couch where Chan was sitting. “What did she say?” Obviously he was worried about you, and the only reason he didn’t run back into the house and apologize was because he was embarrassed. He felt like shit for going off on you, and he knew that you’d both need a bit to cool down. 

“She called Minho, asked him to bring her some Tylenol or something. She was crying… He felt really bad so he already left.” Chan explained, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jisung. “What did you do?” He could read Hans face clearly, and while he wasn’t one to be nosy, he did want to make sure that nothing too serious had happened. You made Jisung happier than anyone else ever could, and he didn’t want that to be ruined for his friend over something small. 

“M-Minho?” Jisung stammered out the name, his hands running through his hair as he grew even more anxious. “Why would he go? That’s… That’s not his place… H-He can’t do that.” He was becoming frantic as his fingers continued to run across his scalp, becoming tangled in the strands that got knotted. “And she was crying?!” 

Bangchan nodded slowly, knowing that nothing he said or did would be able to calm him down now that Jisung was like this. He was practically spiraling and the only thing he could even attempt to do was tell him that it would be okay, although he was sure he wouldn’t believe him. “Look, if you’re so worried, then just go-“ But he didn’t even get the chance to finish the sentence before Jisung was rushing out the door, his shoes barely even on as he hopped on one foot down the hallway to get to the elevator. 

Although he knew that Minho meant well by going there to help you, it felt like he had crossed a line that no friend should ever cross. Going over to his house with his girlfriend when he wasn’t there. It was uncalled for, and even if you had called Minho to get you some medicine, Minho should have contacted him first. It shouldn’t matter that he walked out the door on bad terms, at the end of the day you were still his girlfriend. 

He rushed through the front door and he didn’t know how to feel, seeing Minho sitting on the couch with you had anger rushing through his veins, but it’s not like the two of you were cuddled up or anything, you were on completely opposite sides of the sofa. “Was waiting for you to come.” Minho teased, turning his head as far as he could to look at Jisung who stood like a statue in the doorway. 

He completely ignored the older member, moving to squat down in front of you, his hands grabbing yours tightly as he looked up at you with glassy eyes and dampened cheeks. “Why wouldn’t you call me? Why did you call him? Are you going to leave me? I’m so sorry, baby… I didn’t mean what I said… Don’t leave me…” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, lifting your intertwined hands to brush the tears from his cheeks. “You were mad… we were mad at each other when you walked out… I didn’t think you’d come rushing back to bring me the medicine. That’s why I called him…” You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched his eyes grow wider, almost like a puppy who was just told they were misbehaving. 

“I was a big dummy… I know how bad your cramps get, I was being an ass. I shouldn’t have compared you to anyone because you’re just… you’re amazing and beautiful and there’s no one else in the world like you.” He kissed along your knuckles before brushing his thumb against them, giving you a sad smile. “Will you ever forgive me pookie schmooks?” 

A sound of disgust came from Minho as he quickly got up from the couch, his face perfectly expressing how he felt. “You two are the cringiest people I’ve ever seen in my life and I’m leaving. Get well, Y/N. Goodbye weirdo.” He said to both you and Jisung, practically running to the door as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. His reaction was just the icebreaker the two of you needed to get over the awkwardness that was felt. 

“Did you… Get your snacks?” You asked nervously, keeping your eyes down, wondering if he’d act out again just from the snacks being brought up, but his head shook in response before it was laid against your lap. “Do you want me to go get them? I think the pill is starting to kick in…” 

“Mm… no.” He hummed, his smile growing wider as he looked up at you. “I just want to cuddle with you and make sure you feel good and stay feeling good.. We can order in tonight… I just want to stay with you.”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines #skz headcanons #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #christopher bang #bangchan #han jisung #jisung #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan headcanons #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bangchan drabbles #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung headcanons #han jisung scenarios #han jisung drabbles

[gummilutt]

250 followers Custom Memory Bonanza

It's finally time! To thank all you lovely people for your support, I have been working hard to get this ready for upload and here we are. Today I am sharing my custom memory object, and my library of a whopping 201 custom memories. Based on the wonderful Tattered Diary by DiLight over on MTS, and the tutorial she shared of how to make your own custom memories.

I've always cared a lot about memories, to me they tell the story of the Sims life. Some of you from MTS may recall when I did the whole several year rebuild of my hood, replicating every last detail of the original. I'm memory crazy, okay? And when DiLight gave me the power to make my own, I may have gone a tad overboard. Or just the right amount, you get to decide :P DiLight taught me most of what I know about making custom memories, and the base BHAVs are from her, but as I've learned more I've added some bells and whistles that I hope you will enjoy. It's a new clone and separate GUID from the original tutorial object set up by DiLight, so if you have your own you can have mine too without issues :) Found in misc/misc, costs 1 simoleon.

Download on simfileshare

Features - Brand new form, created by me. Resized BV photo album with new mapping and new texture (seen above, in game pictures at the end of this post). I wanted something that was uniquely mine, and that you don't necessarily have to hide away in the attic or under the foundation. If you don't like it, you also have some additional model forms you can switch between through the pie menu. - Adaptable dynamic menu. Thanks to a really neat trick from @picknmixsims the menu reflects the memories you put in your downloads. If no file with the correct guid is found, the option for it won't show. Which means that although I am crazy enough to have 201, you can go ahead and only pick your favorite ones and the object will automatically detect and adapt the menu to that selection. - Memories all have a custom icon, that's made from game icons from TS2 or TS3. Some I am quite proud of, some are admittedly not great. Not everything is easy to convey through game icons, but I've tried my best, I hope the effort shows. 5 memories have icons that are not from the game, but I tried to match them to the aesthetic as best I could. - Memory subject menu shows only relevant age groups. For example, if the memory is about having a baby, only baby/toddler Sims will show as options. Goal being to keep menu as concise as possible. If you wish to assign memories retroactively, please see jonasn's excellent Memory Commander object, which has support to add my custom memories without age limitations. As well as a whole lot of other useful memory-related stuff. - Extensive documentation detailing everything you may need to know about the memories (text, icon, background, who can get it, who they can get it about, repeatability, where to find it on the object) to help you select the ones you want for your game, and familiarize yourself with them. - English and Swedish translations of memories, and object menu. If someone wants to add their language, that would be great but it's a lot of work so I don't expect it. You are welcome to share your translated versions directly if you wish, or you can send them to me for me to update files shared here :) If you want to learn how to translate the files directly, Episims has a great tutorial found here.

Examples of types of custom memories included - Extended family members memories (got cousin, got aunt/uncle, got sibling, got twin sibling, got great grandchild, got stepparent, got stepchild) - Birth related memories (pregnancy, becoming parent, late in life parent, had multiples birth, premature baby) - Marriage related memories (divorce, parental divorce, custody things, alimony) - Relationship related memories (fighting, breakups, additional love memories) - Woohoo related (memories for specific woohoo locations, repeatable generic woohoo/public woohoo) - University degree related (declared major memories, got a minor degree memories, got a major degree memories, for remembering having studied multiple things and being able to see what major your Sim chose without looking at their diploma) - Loan related, for remembering taking and paying off loans of different types - Moving memories (first apartment, child moves out, various memories for sims moving in with others) - Kids related (child's first day in school, got their own pet, nursery rhyme, giving up for adoption, living at orphanage)

Mods automating delivery of my CC memories (more to come) Learned nursery rhyme from - Found here, by me Wrote restaurant guide - Found here, part of jonasn "Novel Writing Improvements" mod

Credits: DiLight, @picknmixsims, @morepopcorn, @latmosims, @joplayingthesims, maxon, @keoni-chan. For detailed info on how they all impacted the creation of this, see readme :) Policy: Give credit to DiLight, beyond that, totally open. Enjoy!

#gummiluttmods #ts2 mods #ts2 gameplay #ts2 cc #ts2 custom memories #gummi memories

[rendezvouz-fling]

Astro Observations #21

Moon signs edition part 2!🍂

Having dated a few Leo moons, I’ve noticed they have a thing for acting more vulnerable and caring with their partners in private then acting the complete opposite when their friends are around because they think that vulnerability is only for their partners to see.

I’ve noticed some Taurus/Libra moons tend to have greedy mothers who are keen on good looks and manners or their mothers might gravitate towards friendships with people who have money. 

Let me know if I’m onto something but, I believe Saturnian moons (Cap/Aqua) and their relationship with their mothers often times also depends on their Venus sign. E.g. my sister is a Capricorn moon with a Sagittarius venus and although she has the typical Saturnian moon qualities/issues, her mom still has never really been verbally affectionate and treats her bad. Whereas I’m an Aquarius moon with a Pisces venus and although me and my mom aren’t the closest/on the same page and yes I also carry the typical Saturnian moon qualities/issues, my mom is very caring and affectionate.

Pisces moons can be somewhat gullible at times due to their very giving and affectionate nature!

Virgo moons at 3, 15 or 27 degree in the 2H are the biggest over thinkers!! Always constantly worrying or thinking about a comeback to an argument that happened a week ago. They can also have stress eating tendencies.

Gemini moons are those best friends you either talk to everyday or just once while! And when you do talk to them there’ll most likely be something crazy happening in their lives. They just give off an air of being restless and pretty much always on the go.

Yes Sagittarius moons are normally really funny but have you talked to one while they were drunk?😭🤣

Aries moons are the type of friends who are ready to let go of everything and just run away with you to another country meanwhile they haven’t figured out how they’re going to survive over there or anything.💀 Ily guys! 😂

Scorpio moons are very generous, most of them have their guards up and I feel like it’s because they get easily hurt and sometimes their expectations of people turns out to be unrealistic.  

Taurus moons and Aquarius moons aren’t the types to apologize!💀 Taurus moons will just try to offer you some of their food or they might soften up to you a little orrr even try to engage in a conversation with you a few moments after an argument. Whereas Aquarius moons won’t apologize if they don’t feel like they did/said anything wrong and they’ll tell it to your face too then tell you exactly what they said and how they don’t see any wrong in it. 🧍🏽‍♀️

Virgo moons with Cancer risings only really truly apologize if they feel like they’d hurt your feelings.

Also I’ve noticed most Air moons tend to not have parental supervision specifically at a very young age. Or their parents (normally their mom) usually leaves them with their family while they go out and do whatever.

Saturnian moons especially Aquarius moons really be out here having mothers who put their boyfriends on pedestal and they barely pay attention to their kids. Then when the kid (Saturnian moon) confronts their mom about it (wether in the moment or years later) the mother will down right deny it and try to make it seem like all their attention was on their child or make excuses about having to go to work because they needed income, etc…

Some Virgo moons I’ve seen with Air/Earth venuses tend to have aggressive or very critical mothers.

Some Cancer moons I know have emotionally manipulative mothers or moms who do them wrong then gaslight them.

Water moons when underdeveloped can be immature and mean.😭

You know that one friend who’s very artistic or just listen to music a lot, is very playful and can sometimes be unreachable or on the go? They’re probably an Air moon.

That one friend that always validates your feelings and tells/shows you they care about your opinions? They’re probably a Water moon.

That one friend who’s probably the class clown, loud, always cracking jokes to make people laugh and is pretty popular? They’re probably a fire moon.

That one friend who loves exchanging ideas, almost always has strong accurate opinions and has a calming vibe to them? They’re probably an Earth moon.

#astro tumblr #astro community #astro posts #astro placements #astroblr #astro observations #astrology #astro blog #aries moon #taurus moon #gemini moon #cancer moon #leo moon #virgo moon #libra moon #sagittarius moon #capricorn moon #aquarius moon #pisces moon #rendezvous-fling

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Lay all your love (on me)

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get hired to be Elizabeth’s love interest in her new movie and nothing could prepare you to how your life would change upon meeting her

Disclaimer: English is not my first language

MASTERLIST

When you got the call that the part on the upcoming rom-com was yours, you could barely believe it. It took you days and actually signing the contract to fully believe that was about to happen - you finally got an important part in a big movie with some big stars. After struggling with your career for years now, that was very refreshing.

You didn’t know much about the movie plot at first, just a few bits that were enough for you to know you would be the romantic interest for the protagonist, but that was about it. You didn’t know who the protagonist was going to be - you were fairly sure they hadn’t hired anyone yet - but that didn’t stop you from going out with your friends to celebrate. It was a big moment, something that could really change your career, so you held nothing back to party and have a great time.

Weeks later, you were informed your romantic interest had finally been chosen and you almost yelled from the top of your lungs when the name Elizabeth Olsen was announced. Of course you knew who she was and was so, so, so excited to work with her. As soon as her name was announced, the media started giving the movie much more attention as well and you could barely contain your excitement to get the shooting started. You got to work with a Hollywood star who made several Marvel movies and a very successful TV show, not to mention all of her other works that you were a big fan of. Not only that, but you would play a couple and you couldn’t wait until you were finally told the exact day the shooting would start.

You would have to travel to another country, but you weren’t too worried about that. London was a nice place to be for a couple of months until you guys wrapped the movie, even if you would live in a hotel for that time being. You even got to the city a day before she had to just to make sure you weren’t jet-legged before going to the set for the first time. The only thing that slightly worried you a bit was that the director had forego a table reading for the entire cast, which meant you guys would only meet on the first day of working together, something that didn’t always work out the right way.

Even so, on the first day you had to be on the set, you woke up super early to be able to have a nice breakfast and get ready, and then you called for a cab to take you to where the shooting was going to happen. Most people had no idea who you were yet, but an assistant was waiting for you to take you to the director for a quick chat before going to hair and make-up. You knew the director already - since he was obviously there for your audition - although that didn’t make you any less nervous to be standing in front of him while the man talked about what was expected of you. He gave you a brief explanation of your character and how you should behave when the cameras were rolling, then you talked about the first scene you would shoot.

“We’re only going to need you after lunch since we’re shooting a few other things this morning with Ms Olsen and other characters,” he explained. “But be here around two and we’re getting started, okay?”

You could only nod along because you would never be stupid enough to disagree with someone who had been working in the industry since before you were born. “Is there anything specific I need to do for the scene? I read the script that was sent to me, but-”

“Oh, shit,” the director interrupted you with a grunt. “Bella, did we send her the new shooting schedule?” Upon seeing your panicked face and the assistant blank stare, he only sighed and shook his head. “Fine, then we have something for you to work on. We changed the scenes we’re shooting today because one of the actors had a problem with their agenda. My assistant here will give you the new part we’re doing today, so you’ll have new things to memorize.”

And that’s how your nerves got a thousand times worse.

You had been beating yourself up for weeks, putting a lot of pressure on your shoulders to do an impeccable job, to not screw over your big opportunity and, especially, to make a good first impression. You trained your lines in front of mirrors and with a close friend several times, and now suddenly things had changed and you didn’t feel like you had enough time to work on the new scene for it to be as good as you wanted it to be. However, once again, you didn’t try to tell other people how to do their job. You just accepted the new script and locked yourself with the make-up department to study the pages while they did their work.

It took you very little time to realize what scene you were supposed to be doing that day. On your very first day, nonetheless. It was a scene where your character and Elizabeth’s character held a small conversation before kissing. You were going to be kissing Elizabeth Olsen that day and you were not even a little bit prepared for that.

“You seem nervous, honey,” one of the oldest ladies in the room said when her assistant walked off to grab something.

You hadn’t noticed you were bouncing your leg until she pointed it out, but, once you did, you quickly froze and, with wide eyes and blushing cheeks, looked at her. “I’m not.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” she said with a low chuckle, clearly not believing in you.

“Yes, but…” You took a deep breath and let your eyes go through the pages again. “This is big, you know? And I’m not. I can’t screw this over.” After looking up again, you saw the way the woman was looking through her make-up kit to find something and it made you bite your lip as if you were waiting for it to be another failure of your day. “I wish I had bumped into her in the hallways or something.”

Thankfully, the make-up artist found what she was looking for and went back to her work. “Who are you shooting with?”

She was apparently used to having people freaking out on her chair and she was nice enough, kind and gentle, so you had no problem venting out to her a little bit. “Elizabeth.”

“Oh!” A wide smile turned the woman’s lips up. “She was here earlier today, obviously! She’s a gem!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Really nice person, you really have nothing to worry about!”

You hesitated for a second, looked at the scene written on the paper again, and then sighed. “Even if we have to kiss and we never even saw each other before?”

Well, the kind lady didn’t have anything helpful to say about that and you were left with silence once her assistant returned to the room. After your make-up was done, you had an early lunch break, and you ate alone inside a room while glossing over the script like a hawk. The more time went by, the more nervous you got, to the point you were starting to feel the beginning of an anxiety attack coming to bite you in the ass. That would certainly be way worse - way worse - so you decided to take a break for real and take a walk around the studio to think about anything else.

You had half an hour before having to go to the dressing room, so you walked slowly outside, enjoying the not so warm day out while taking calm breaths. You were walking for maybe ten minutes when you saw someone walking over beside an assistant and under an umbrella towards the door. Probably returning from a lunch break herself was Elizabeth Olsen, who didn’t seem to notice you as she walked. That was a perfect opportunity to pick up with her, introduce yourself and make things less weird once you two were standing in front of a camera, but you were too far away and the only way to reach her in time was to run towards her, which was even worse.

So, with a bit of dread in your heart, you watched her going inside and disappearing from your line of sight, and you were once again hit with the thoughts from before. You weren’t actually starstruck or something like that because you were professional and could get your job done, but the fear of somehow ruining things in front of Elizabeth made things worse. She had years of experience in big roles and she was the face of the movie, the protagonist. You couldn’t screw things up on your first scene.

Obsessing over it again, you went to the dressing department while chewing a mint, and popped another two before heading out, both out of nerves and because you were afraid you might have bad breath when you were supposed to be kissing someone. It wasn’t actually kissing, of course, but that would be bad. Very bad.

By the time the director called you for another talk, you had already dried your palms at least five times on the nice pants the wardrobe people gave you. He had a few things to point out, some tips and other requests for you, and you listened attentively. So attentively indeed that you didn’t notice when Elizabeth walked on set as well.

You were shooting inside a room that was supposed to look like a cafe and you had your backs turned to it, entirely missing the other actress walking behind you to talk to someone else. Once your eyes caught her, though, you felt your heart skipping a beat before skyrocketing inside your chest. You didn’t have the opportunity to be that close to her before, but, now that you had, you couldn’t help but take in all the details. From the clothes her character was going to wear, to the light make-up she had on, to the way her hair was falling in soft waves down her back.

Your first thought was that she looked beautiful, but that wasn’t exactly news. You had eyes, you knew who Elizabeth Olsen was before, and you knew she was beautiful. Although, seeing it up close, was certainly a whole new experience. The first thing that crossed your mind was how your imagination really tricked you into thinking she was much shorter than she was, though she was wearing high heels and you weren’t. Your clothes were plainly different since you were wearing jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, while Elizabeth was wearing a ridiculously short skirt and what you assumed was a crop top besides the heels, of course.

You almost rolled your eyes at that because the director was really trying to make it clear that those characters were opposites - just like the cliche that the opposites attract or something similarly cheesy.

Noticing you got distracted by something, the director followed your eyes and quickly spotted Elizabeth, then saying something that made your heart beat even faster than before. “Elizabeth, come here please.”

You barely had the time to prepare yourself. You tried to discreetly run a hand through your hair, although you thought better about it when you remembered you didn’t have time to go back to hair and make-up, and also held yourself higher with a sudden perfect posture. If anyone else noticed it, no one said a thing, for which you were grateful.

“You know each other, right?” The director asked once Elizabeth stopped in front of you two, but he didn’t give you enough time to answer before starting to ramble about where he wanted you to stand, and what you should do, and when to tell certain things.

You kept stealing glances at the blonde woman in front of you, feeling your face getting warmer and warmer, though there wasn’t much you could do about it. The conversation ended with the director saying you had five minutes before the shooting started and then walking away to talk with someone else, and you didn’t have much of a choice but to follow one of his assistant leads to find your place to be on set. Elizabeth seemed more familiar with things and people already, and she easily sat down at one of the chairs to wait for things to get moving.

Before you realize it, someone is making you sit across from her at the table, and your nerves hit you with full force all at once. “H-Hi. So, uh, this is not weird at all, huh?”

And, as usual, you used humor as a defense mechanism.

Luckily, it did the trick because Elizabeth actually smiled at you, even if it was mostly just polite. “Y/N, right?” She asked, though she obviously knew it was you by now. Even so, you nodded to let her know she was right. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet before, but I just got here from where I was shooting my last job. They wanted to do a table reading, but I couldn’t make it and we were already on a tight schedule.”

Well, that explained some of the rush people seemed to be in. You couldn’t blame her for having a busy agenda, of course, even if that certainly didn’t help with your anxiety. You still offered her a gentle smile and waved a hand. “That’s okay. I mean, not ideal, but okay. I suppose there were worse scenes for us to shoot after literally knowing each other for five minutes,” you joked.

Elizabeth understood what you meant and chuckled - a low, deep sound that made your insides twist a bit and you just knew you would have to work extra hard to end up that job without a new crush on someone that was way out of your league.

You didn’t have time to dwell on that for long because the director soon asked everyone to be on their marks and, a couple of minutes later, he was yelling “action!”.

You did the best you could at that moment. Not your best, but the best you could. You were nervous, you were shaking a bit and your mind was running faster thinking about the kiss you would have to give Elizabeth later on the scene. Were the mints you ate enough? You brushed your teeth twice, but maybe you should’ve done it once more just to be sure. And you didn’t even have the time to discuss with Elizabeth how the kiss would play out. You would like to know if she had any boundaries she wouldn’t like you to cross or what to do with your hands. And, oh God, your palms were sweaty again, you couldn’t just put them on her face.

The first takes were a disaster. The director seemed so disappointed that you could barely look at him, but he was also looking pissed the more he had to cut a scene. The problem wasn’t even your lines since you hit them all at the right time, but it was hard to ignore that Elizabeth and you didn’t seem to have any chemistry. You were still weird around each other, albeit you would have to admit Elizabeth was doing most of the job while you were silently freaking out across from her.

It was a very frustrating two hours before the director decided to go for the kiss. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was his last try before giving up completely, something that you were sure once he decided to call it a day after the first and only kiss you shared with Elizabeth on screen. While you were moping on your chair, you noticed that he called Elizabeth into a corner and they were talking at each other in whispers, and you could swear you saw eyes snapping at you every once in a while, which only made things worse.

You felt like you had already ruined everything. The thing you were most afraid of, and you managed to do just that. No more opportunities in your career because you just proved to a very important director and a well-known actress that you couldn’t do your job.

Jesus fuck.

You left the set faster than anyone could stop you. You knew you were the one to blame for the terrible work you did that day and you wanted a few minutes alone to mop and collect yourself before someone knocked on the door to fire you. You didn’t have trailers though and you weren’t sure if there were any free rooms, so you ended up in hair and make-up again, thinking that you could at least remove it all before crying and ruining your mascara.

“How was it, honey?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the make-up artist’s voice coming from a corner of the room since you hadn’t noticed she was there, but you soon relaxed when you saw her kind smile directed at you. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie, not really, and maybe talking with someone would prepare you not to cry when you got fired for real, so that’s what you did.

“It was terrible,” you admitted sadly. “I ruined everything. We don’t have chemistry. Like, none at all. I’m waiting for someone to stop by to fire me right now.”

“Fire you? What for?”

She looked genuinely confused by it. “Well, it’s just, you know… They’re not going to fire her. She’s Elizabeth Olsen. She’s the reason why so many streaming platforms tried to buy this movie. They will realize they can find someone better to be her romantic interest. Maybe Aubrey Plaza, since they already did a movie together. They know each other, it will be easier for them.”

“So you think things could be fixed if you knew her better?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and totally missed the way the woman rolled her eyes at you while you sat down. She was finding it all amusing, even if you were on the verge of crying for ruining your career.

“You met today, didn’t you?” The woman asked and waited for you to nod. “Maybe that’s the problem. You just met.”

You thought about it for a moment, allowing her to start removing your make-up for you even if that wasn’t exactly her job, a frown permanently on your face. “You’re saying I should get to know her better.”

“Of course! Don’t worry too much, honey. It was the first day. They’re not going to fire you on the first day.”

That made sense. Now that someone else pointed it out, you could see that it was very unlikely that they would fire you after one day of shooting. Yes, it wasn’t great and they didn’t have much time to wait for you to catch up, but that only meant you had to be fast to fix things. You didn’t want to lose that gig and you certainly didn’t want to allow people to think you were bad at what you did. You were just nervous. Overly nervous because of your anxiety, that’s all. It was your first big job, you were meeting some important people, the schedule got changed last minute, and you shouldn’t have drank three cups of coffee in the morning, for sure.

You could still fix this.

You just needed to be fast.

“I’m bringing you donuts tomorrow!” You promised as you ran out of the room minutes later, but you didn’t wait for a reply - nor did you add that you would do that if you didn’t get fired.

Your optimism was back and you wasted no time to go find one of the assistants to ask what time you should be there tomorrow - just to be sure you were expected to be there tomorrow - and then you set on your mission to go find Elizabeth. You had no idea what to say or what you needed, but you knew you had to find her to, at the very least, try to change her perception of you.

You were lucky enough to find her alone looking at her phone while she seemingly waited for someone to show up in the hallway where she was standing, so you quickly walked towards Elizabeth and displayed your best smile - now much more relaxed and less nervous. “Hey, good I found you here!”

Green eyes - so damn green, you thought - looked up at you and Elizabeth put her phone away before crossing her arms and waiting for you to stop in front of her. “Hello.”

“I wanted to apologize for today,” you started and gave her no time to interrupt. “I know that was mostly my fault, well, all my fault actually.” You let out a self-deprecating chuckle as you raised a hand to scratch the back of your neck. “I’m sorry, I admit I was a bit nervous. I mean, we met literally minutes before having to shoot together. I’m not used to that.” You dropped your hand and, without realizing it, started to move them around while you talked. “We’re going to shoot that scene again tomorrow and I was thinking that maybe we should get to know each other so things don’t go as weird as they went today.”

Okay, Elizabeth’s eyes were very green. They were so light! And her nose was so cute, slightly turned up. And no one should be allowed to have such perfectly shaped lips like that, it should be a crime, really.

You got lost in your thoughts, you realized, and it made your cheeks go red so fast that you let out an awkward cough just to have an excuse to bring your hand to your face to try to cover it a bit. “Well, I was thinking that maybe you would like to go out with me today.”

That was not what you wanted to say. At all. Oh, fuck.

Elizabeth’s reaction would have been priceless if you weren’t the idiot standing in front of her. Her eyes widened, she took a step back, and her own face went pink. It all happened so fast that it took you a moment to recover as well.

“It's not like a date date,” you quickly said, desperately trying to fix what you did. “I mean, we will have dinner, talk, hang out for a bit, but it doesn't have to be romantic. I mean, it's not romantic!” You corrected, waving your hands around and standing there with your eyes almost falling from your face, and your heart beating way too fast again. Well, so much for trying to save your job. Now you were going to be let down under the accusation of sexual harassment or something like that. You didn’t know if keeping talking was a good or a bad idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop either. “I just thought it might help us lose up a little bit, you know? Get more comfortable around each other. Our first scene together was a very… deep kiss, we didn't have much time to talk before that.”

Elizabeth didn’t say anything at first, but she also didn’t look as surprised as before, so you would count that as a small victory. You waited for her to say something while changing your weight from one leg to the other, hands awkwardly crossed in front of you while also trying not to stare at her for too long. It was the way you were incapable of not being a gay mess that got you in that situation, after all.

“So…” The other woman started eventually and you felt your breath getting stuck in your throat as you waited for the verdict. “Like a dinner?”

“Yes,” you agreed way too fast, just for you then realize it would be better if you acted a bit more like it wasn’t just dinner with a stranger. “And no. If you don’t mind, I think that acting just a little bit like it's a date might help. I could open the doors for example.” Just after you said that, you realized how dumb it sounded. You placed both hands on your waist and took a deep breath. “I will stop talking now before I dig myself a bigger hole,” you mumbled shyly.

Yes, you were now getting fired.

You would have to pray not to have the police knocking on your door either.

God, you really should’ve gone to college like your family wanted you to.

“I don't dislike your idea, but we don’t have much time,” Elizabeth took pity on you, apparently, which you weren’t sure was a good thing. “We have more scenes together to shoot tomorrow.”

Way quicker than you should, you exclaimed: “We can go out tonight!” And, after hearing how eager you sounded, you were fast to add: “If you want.”

Elizabeth didn’t look so certain that it was a good idea indeed, and you pretended not to see when she glanced at you from head to toe because it would only make you blush again - you feared your face would never return to its natural color if you kept blushing like that. “Ok,” the other woman conceded finally.

It was your turn to express how surprised you were by that answer. “Wait, really? Okay! Yeah, great!” You were rambling and, once again, you couldn’t stop. “Just spectacular!” Just spectacular? Really? You had nothing better to say? Could you keep yourself from oversharing things, please? “I will, uh, go now.” And now you were stuttering as well, good. “Just, uh, I will wait for you or I will meet you at the parking lot or…?” You trailed off, now sure you should just stop talking altogether.

“I would like to go back to the place I'm staying to change, if you don't mind,” Elizabeth said.

You wasted no time to nod eagerly at her. “Of course not! That’s perfect.” Yes, because you needed to return the clothes to the dressing department and having a shower also sounded nice. You could back to your hotel and pick something better to wear. It also gave you some time to find out where you could take her. “I can, uh, pick you up if you wish and then we can, hm, go.”

Now Elizabeth grinned at you stumbling over the words and her eyes glanced down for a moment - just enough for you to feel like you could breathe again. “Sounds nice. I have your phone from the group chat they put us in today. I will send you my location when I get there,” she promised.

You sighed in relief, not even trying to hide it. “Sure, sure. Okay.” The rambling was back. “Yes. Perfect.”

“Yes, spectacular,” Elizabeth replied with a slight teasing in her tone that made you relax instantly.

You chuckled mostly at your own awkwardness and then shook your head. “Okay, now I will go.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb and saw the blonde woman smile. “See you later.”

Soon - very soon - you came to the conclusion that you were insane.

There was no other explanation, really, because you really asked Elizabeth Olsen to have dinner with you. And then you proceeded to run over your mouth and say it was kind of like a date, but not a real date. You should also not forget that you not only made a fool of yourself - twice in the same day, you might add - but you also managed to make things worse than they were before.

You were certain you would be fired by the end of the week.

But that was the exact thought that made you find enough courage to keep going with your plan. There was no way you could make things worse, you were at least sure of that. So you could keep up with your initial thoughts to get to know her a little better. You might get out of that with a friend, after all.

Also, the idea of having dinner with Elizabeth was a good one. You loved her work and you could spend some time gushing about how amazing she was - something you were sure you would find no problem in doing.

With your mind set to make it all worth it, you tried to find a nice restaurant on your way to the hotel. You tried to use your phone, but your mind was racing too much and you couldn’t comprehend the several reviews from different restaurants online. You read all of them, but no word actually stuck and you barely even understood the restaurant’s names to start with.

“Hey,” you decided to say, leaning over between the seats to get closer to your driver. He seemed like a nice guy, he hadn’t tried to talk to you yet and he put on a nice playlist, so you considered it was safe to ask him. “Do you know any good restaurants in town?”

“Depends. What do you want to eat? And what’s the occasion?”

You left his car with three options in your mind, which was great because you could call them and ask if they would take your reservation. The driver told you the name of another restaurant just before he took off, having leaned on his window to be heard by you, and you raised your thumbs at him in thanks before entering the hotel. You and Elizabeth didn’t say what time you would pick her up, therefore you decided not to take too long to get ready. You showered pretty quickly and chose your clothes after just a few minutes of debating with yourself, and then you grabbed your phone to make some calls.

Two of the restaurants didn’t even pick up the call and you wondered if they were even working that night, and the third one said they didn’t have any free tables. Luck started to smile at you when you called the fourth place the driver had said and they gladly told you they would be waiting for you at any time you decided to drop by. Relieved, you decided to check their name just to be sure you wouldn’t be taking Elizabeth to a food truck around the block. It seemed like a nice enough place, just a small French bistro that you were sure would do just great.

Elizabeth reached out about two hours after you got into your hotel room and you couldn’t say you weren’t surprised that she was still on board with that. You were half expecting her to either text you saying she couldn’t make it or just disappear all night, but you were glad to see that wasn’t the case. After calling for another cab, you took one last look in the mirror to make sure you were looking somewhat good enough, and then you left to meet her.

The address she sent you wasn’t from a hotel and you soon found yourself in front of a building. You texted her to let her know you were there and, after asking the driver to wait for a minute, you exited the vehicle to wait for Elizabeth outside. She didn’t take too long to appear, opening the door and stepping out distractedly, although she immediately caught your attention.

Elizabeth was wearing a simple dark green shirt that clung to her skin perfectly and a black tiered skirt that went down to her ankles. Around her waist, a black belt complemented the look along with the high heels that you weren’t surprised to see. Her hair was pretty much the same as you had seen earlier that day, but she clearly put on some effort to do her make-up, topping it all with red lipstick that made your brain shut for a while.

You were all of a sudden feeling undressed, though you couldn’t imagine having anything in your wardrobe that would get even close to that.

“Wow,” you breathed out once she spotted you and started walking towards you. “You look… gorgeous.

“Oh, thank you.” You noticed a blush rising from her neck to her cheeks and how she raised a hand to put her hair behind her ear and you just smiled at the cute scene.

Holy crap, you didn’t even know someone could be so beautiful.

Noticing you were staring at her again, you shook your head and pointed to the car waiting for you two. “Right, so, we should, uh, go.”

The drive to the restaurant took a while and you tried to keep the conversation light because the driver could hear you two talking and it would do no good. Elizabeth kept her replies short, but she shot back you a few questions - mostly about your career and how you got into acting. She admitted not knowing much about you before they called her to be the protagonist of the current movie you were working on, but you didn’t mind about that. She seemed interested enough to learn now and that’s all that mattered. Things still felt a bit awkward, but you were going to blame that on the fact that you had to watch your words since you weren’t alone.

“I hope you don’t mind the place,” you told her after stepping out of the car. The bistro behind you was even smaller than you initially thought and it looked mostly empty, which made you start rethinking your decision to take Elizabeth there. “But I was told they have an amazing menu.”

“It looks nice,” Elizabeth replied with a small smile.

You motioned for her to walk first but, before she could open the door of the restaurant, you remembered what you said before and took large steps to beat her to it - which would certainly look ridiculous to someone looking from outside, but there wasn’t much you could do. You opened the door for her and waved your hand dramatically to indicate the way to the other woman. Elizabeth arched one eyebrow before chuckling softly and walking inside the bistro. She paused to wait for you to do the same and you were blessed with a smile when you looked at her again.

Before you could say anything, though, someone approached you to take you both to your table. After you were sitting, you allowed yourself a moment to just look around the bistro, noticing the small details and the cozy environment while Elizabeth looked over the wine charter to pick something. It was a nice place indeed, especially where you were sitting by one of the corners since you asked for privacy, and you almost wished you had tipped the driver better for that only.

“I wanted to apologize,” you said after you placed your order minutes later. Elizabeth looked at you in confusion, so you jumped to explain. “I feel like I might have made you uncomfortable with my rambling earlier. This isn’t a date and I’m sorry if I made it sound like it was. I tend to make jokes when I’m nervous, but they don’t always come out…” you nodded while trying to think about the right way to phrase it, “as I wish they did.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, don’t worry,” Elizabeth told you calmly. “I understood where you were trying to get and what you were trying to say. Like I said, I don’t think this is a horrible idea. It can actually help us out.”

“Yes, that’s another thing I want to apologize for.” You scratched the back of your neck and grimaced. “I kind of ruined the shooting today.”

“You weren’t the only one there, you know?” She offered with a shrug. “Like I said, getting to know each other will help us out. Besides, we’re going to work together for two months, so I guess this is a good start.”

“Even if I put my foot in my mouth?” You wondered, although now you were feeling relaxed enough to feel all your anxiety leave your body at once. It was like you could finally be yourself without the constant fear of doing or saying something wrong.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” Elizabeth joked and you both shared a laugh at that.

Things after that went pretty well.

The wine got there before the food and you both drank while talking about work at first. It was an easy topic, sharing fun stories and anecdotes that made the other laugh, but it soon wandered away from it. You both started talking about family, friends, hobbies, dreams, plans for the future and, before you realized it, you were animatedly chatting, laughing and gesticulating as if you had never once felt nervous around Elizabeth before.

She had a cute laugh that made you want to keep saying silly things to hear it again, and an easy smile that made your heart skip a beat, and green eyes that made you never want to look away, and her voice was so smooth that you wished you could hear her for hours and hours. She was funny, but she was also smart. She talked with passion about her works, about gardening, about her family, about the books she liked to read, and about everything she loved.

Halfway through dinner, you realized you wished it was a date.

It wasn’t surprising because you knew yourself enough to know it might end up happening - Elizabeth was, after all, a very beautiful and interesting woman - but that didn’t mean it made things easier. You were there to forge a friendship with her so you could work together, not to fancy her somehow. Elizabeth was also way out of your league, you couldn’t even bring yourself to dream about anything else happening.

The conversation was happening so smoothly that neither of you realized the restaurant was about to close until one of the waitresses politely told you she would have to collect the plates, but that you could finish off the wine bottle before leaving. That was the second bottle you shared and you were feeling just too happy already, so you declined to drink the rest of it. You were sure you weren’t drunk from the alcohol but from the great time you were having, but it was better safe than sorry. Elizabeth ended up saying she wouldn’t drink it either and you decided to call it a night to allow the employees to go home instead of having to work in a mostly empty restaurant.

You called for a cab once you were outside, thankfully managing to make a car stop in front of you pretty fast, and then you opened up the back door for Elizabeth to enter. You slid behind her, telling her address to the driver, and then you kept talking silently until the car parked in front of her building. You got out first and reached out with one hand to help Elizabeth get out as well before walking her to the door.

“I had a great time,” Elizabeth said as she turned around to face you.

“So did I,” you smiled. “I don’t think I laughed this hard in a long time.”

Her giggle reached your ears, which brought you such a gleeful feeling that you just knew was not a good sign. “Me neither,” she admitted.

When you tell that story years down the road, you would blame the way Elizabeth smiled at you and the way the light made her shine like something from another world for what you said next - though you knew it was just your large mouth speaking before your brain could process the words again. “So, if I wanted to take you out on a date date, would I stand any chance?”

Elizabeth looked at you for a long time before finally replying. “Well, you certainly left a good impression tonight.” She hesitated before talking again. “I would say it made me wish it was a real date. Just a little bit,” she added with a hint of humor, holding her index finger and her thumb just a few inches apart from each other.

You laughed - mostly out of relief - and nodded. “Do you think, well, do you think you have free time later this week? I would love to take you out again.”

“I think we can make that work,” was her answer and, honestly, that’s all you needed to be sure you made the right choice that day.

The director barely recognized you two working together on the screen the next day, so much so that he pulled you both to the side to congratulate you on your performance. You said it was all Elizabeth, but she only rolled her eyes at you and hit your hibs with her elbow before you both shared a laugh. You had your first official date that same Friday at the same bistro, albeit you ordered different dishes this time.

You were officially dating a month later and, by the time you wrapped the movie, there was already some gossip going around about you two. Both Elizabeth and you decided to ignore it and not address it for a while since they were harmless gossip - not to mention that it did wonderful things to the movie’s advertising.

A year later, though, you walked holding hands at the movie premier and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were celebrating your first year together promoting the movie that made you meet the love of your life.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff

[sad-not-glad]

Sharing is Caring

Soft Dom! Steve x Sub! Bucky x Dom! reader

Warnings: smut!!!! Sm smut. Blowjobs. Mommy kink. Captain kink. MMF threesome. Anal. The list goes on.

Word count: 4198

A/N: I’m a slut for sub! Bucky. Always. This is a repost since I was fkn stupid and deleted my old account. Enjoy!

Your little apartment was quiet save for the soft sounds of the city waking up that drifted in from the window. Today was a cleaning day so you had woken up early, opened all the windows, and set to work. You intended to have the place spotless in time for your boyfriend’s return home. He had been called away on a last-second mission that you weren’t allowed to know the details of and he was due to return later that evening, just in time for date night. Knowing how tired he would be, you had planned a simple night in so he could relax and be pampered by your love. You’ve only just started the kitchen when there’s a soft knock at the door that pulls you from your cleaning induced stupor. Setting down the rag and cleaning spray you wiped your hands on your jeans as you made for the door. After a quick peep through the looking hole you clicked the lock and swung open the wood to reveal a face you knew very well.

Steve Rogers stood there, smiling lazily with his hands shoved in his pockets. Although you couldn’t deny how he shifted between his feet anxiously. “Hey Steve, everything okay?” He nodded, glancing past you into the apartment before answering. “Yeah, can we talk?”

“Well, that’s something.” You sit back against your couch as you cross your arms in thought. Steve sat nearby in the armchair you found a few months ago, playing with his fingers to avoid your questioning gaze. “Like I said, (Y/N), I really don’t want this to change anything. I just- I couldn’t keep being friends with you if you didn’t know. It wouldn’t be right.” You hummed, thoughts running wild as he waited anxiously for your response. It was an odd situation admittedly, but not all that surprising. Especially considering the conversations you and Bucky already had about the topic. And knowing Steve the way you did, this should have been expected. He was a good person and you knew that he was being honest with you out of the guilt he carried for deceiving you. At least he thought he had.

“Would you want things to change?” You sit forward, propping your head against your hand as you stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. It was an idea you had been brewing since the first mention of this from Bucky, and now seemed as perfect a time as any to put it into action. “What do you mean?” Steve clearly wasn’t expecting your answer to be that, but you could see the curiosity in his eyes when he shifted forward ever so slightly. “Things are different nowadays, Steve. Relationships are different. And I think we can work something out where all of us can be happy.”

He considered your words for a moment before squinting his eyes suspiciously. Was this some kind of test in his faith? If so, he was going to fail. “Like what?” The grin that spread across your lips was captivating, mischievous as you told him of your idea. The more you explained the harder he could feel himself blushing and by the end there was a considerable strain to his pants. His voice is weak when he finally finds the courage to respond. “That sounds… amazing.” Your eyes sparkle as you bite your lip and giggle at him. “Well I’m glad you think so. But in the meantime you’re going to help me clean, our boy deserves a tidy house to return to.” His face burns when you specifically emphasize the word ‘our.’ This was going to be a long day of waiting.

Bucky was exhausted. His joints ached and there was a sizable gash down his right bicep. All he wanted was to be home, surrounded by your warmth and love as he recovered mentally from his mission. Opening the door he was met with the warm smell of your home cooking and boisterous laughter floating from the kitchen. He let his bags fall with a soft thud as he kicked off his boots before following the sounds of voices. You stood at the stove, cooking something that smelled absolutely divine as Steve reclined against the counter next to you. Both of you were giggling at whatever had been said and it makes his heart warm to see the two people he loved most getting on so well together. Steve notices him first, greeting the man with a smile and a wave. “Heya Buck. How’d it go?” You turn away from the pans, walking over to wrap your arms tightly around his torso. He sighs, burning his face into your hair before responding to his friend. “It went to shit, I’m just happy to be home.” You leaned up on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek before retreating back to your cooking. With a quick glance at the clock and some mental math you deduce that he has enough time for a shower before you finish. “Why don’t you go clean up, baby? Dinner will be done by then.” He nodded softly, disappearing from the kitchen to do just that. A nice hot shower would help him out more than he was willing to admit right now.

When Bucky emerged, clean and in fresh clothes, the table had already been set with dinner. There were two large servings accompanied by your considerably smaller one, something you had grown used to over the years spent with your boyfriend. He could eat your entire kitchen bare and still be hungry, and that was a good day. So you always made sure to pile his plate high with food, doing the same for Steve. There’s little conversation as the three of you eat peacefully. Steve insists on doing the dishes, sending you and Bucky to the living room so you could choose something to watch on the TV. “You wanna watch Harry Potter again?” Bucky asks, sorting through your sizable DVD collection. You sit on the floor beside him, eyes scanning over the titles available as you thought. “Hm, you’ve seen that like three times now. Oh! What about this one, it’s about three sisters who are witches.” You pull Charmed from the stack, passing it over so he can look at the case. After a moment Bucky nods, handing it back to you with a smile. “Sounds like fun, dollface. Wanna go get some snacks while I set up?” That was one thing you thought was absolutely adorable when it came to Bucky. He had such a passion for learning about new technology and the internet. At first it was surprising but after hearing the stories of his fascination with sci-fi before the war it made more sense to you. With a soft peck to his stubble cheek you disappear back into the kitchen.

Steve is drying his hands, sink empty and dishes placed out on the rack to dry. You carefully step around him, grabbing out a bag of popcorn to microwave while you flitted around gathering other various things for your boys to munch on. Steve catches your eye and gives a curious nod of his head towards the door leading to the living room. You step forward and speak in a low voice so Bucky couldn’t overhear. “Second episode.” He nods in understanding, vanishing out to join your boyfriend while they wait for you to finish your own task. After dumping the bag of hot kernels into a bowl and gathering everything else in your arms you make your way back out to the two men. You unceremoniously drop everything onto the coffee table before plopping down on the sofa next to Bucky. His arm automatically comes to rest around your shoulders as he hits play and the DVD begins. The first episode passes normally, it’s about halfway through the second that Steve shifting on the other side of Bucky catches your attention. His gaze locks on to yours for just a moment and you smirk, tilting your head up to kiss along your lover’s jaw.

Bucky sighs, his hold around your shoulders tightening in warning as you nip softly below his ear. He was more than happy to kiss you stupid, but Steve was right there. He couldn’t do that to him. Not with the tension still running so high between the two men. It just wouldn’t be fair. You raise your hand, placing it gently over his chest as you slowly trail your lips over his neck. Your treading into dangerous territory right now and he can’t help the small whimper that tears from his lips when you latch onto the one sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder. There’s a pause where his heart drops as Steve sits forward, shame and guilt coursing through his veins. This wasn’t fair-

All of Bucky’s thoughts short circuit as the other man turns, bending down to copy your actions and smothering his best friend’s neck with soft kisses and bites. His whole body is vibrating, torn between confusion and absolute arousal. Your fingers trace a pace slowly down his abs and brush over the bulge in his sweatpants as Steve’s hand takes the place where yours just was. His breath is coming out in short pants as he fights to understand just what was happening. You give a soft chuckle, hand cupping over his dick and giving a soft squeeze as he groans out. “You gonna let us take care of you honey? Treat you nice the way you deserve?”

He stutters, unable to form a response as you tut softly in his ear. Steve had moved on to sucking deep marks against his skin, pulling back and lavishing his work with tender licks before moving to the next spot. And god, Bucky feels like he could explode. His wide eyes jump back and forth from you, his girlfriend, to Steve, the man he still loves. This had to be a dream, or some kind of sick joke the both of you were playing, right? Bucky’s eyes fought to stay open as you gently slipped your hand down past the elastic of his pants and boxers to finally grab ahold of his cock. You give him a few slow tugs before coming to a stop. When you speak your voice is clear and firm. “Bucky, baby, you want this?”

His eyes slide open as he turns to you in question. You answer him, already knowing what was going through his mind. “You wanna let me n’ Stevie love on you? You deserve it baby boy, and you can have anything you want.” Your soft prodding brings his mind back to reality as the situation crashes over him. He twitches painfully in your hand as he considers his options while Steve continues his journey down Bucky’s neck. After a few moments he gives a soft nod and you grin, tightening your grip around his cock. “Words, use them sweet boy.” He struggles for a moment before finally finding his voice. “Yes, mommy. Want it bad.” The moan Steve lets out against his skin is absolutely sinful. Neither of you were strangers to the kinkier side of the bedroom, it was something Bucky took in stride. He had spent so long being in power, even if someone was telling him what to do he was still fighting and killing. And being able to completely let go and lose himself in your safety and warmth was a welcome release from his chaotic and sometimes gruesome life.

“Okay my boy, we’re gonna treat you so good honey. You know your words?” He nods, head already clouding over as he lets himself go into that state of mind where the only thing that mattered was the pleasure you could bring him. And now Steve too.

“Yes ma’am. Platypus ma’am.” The blonde snorts and you can’t help but chuckle too as he raises a curious brow at you. “It works really well. It’s not something either of us would say normally so it’s very easy to tell something is wrong. But we’ve never had to use it, have we, my sweet boy?” He shakes his head lightly as you hum in approval. Being Bucky’s dom was not something you took lightly, and from your earlier conversations Steve understood the importance of the role as well. Of course he didn’t know the modern terms for everything but he understood the basics, revealing to you that neither of the men were new to the roles you had assumed so easily. You make eye contact with Steve and nod your head down to where your hand is stuffed down Bucky’s pants. “Wanna help out, Captain?” He eagerly reaches down, hand covering your own as Bucky gasps and throws his head against the back of the couch. It had been years for him so Steve let’s you guide him on what to do as he slowly re-acquaints himself with the other man’s glorious cock. Only a few moments later he's taking the lead and you move your hand down to fondle Bucky’s balls. He moans and whines as his hips jut up uncontrollable against your combined hands and their efforts.

Your other hand moves up to gently rest against the back of his neck, turning and guiding his head towards Steve’s awaiting lips. The kiss begins soft and slow but quickly grows heated. Your panties are quickly growing moist as you watch the two make out. It’s sloppy and all tongues and teeth as Bucky lets out little whimpers into Steve’s mouth, who happily swallows them down. You increase your efforts, fingers slowly slipping back to softly rub against the furl of his tight hole. Bucky comes with a sharp cry as you gently press down, hips jerking into Steve’s hand as he sprays ropes of this hot cum against the fabric of his boxers. You both slow to give him a moment to catch his breath, Steve keeping him locked in a now softer kiss as you resumed your ministrations across his neck. Once Bucky has recovered you slide from the couch to stand before the two men.

“Sweet boy, how are you feeling?” His eyes are glossy and his lips are swollen, the front of his sweats stained with his cum. A second passes before he answers. “So good, mommy.” You smile, leaning down to gently brush your hand through his hair. “Do you wanna keep going baby? Or are you too tired?” He shakes his head, face heating up with humiliation as he struggles for words. “Want it, mommy.” You hum, gently tugging on his hair as he gasps and moans. “What do you want, baby? I told you to use your words.” He stutters and his skin is quickly darling into a beautiful scarlet color. “I want… both of you? Both of you, I want you both.” He stumbles over his words, shame burning through his veins as you smile reassuringly at him. “Oh sweet boy, you think you can take it?” He nods insistently and Steve’s chuckle rumbles across his skin. “Alright then. You know what to do, go make yourself look pretty for us on the bed.” Bucky shoots up from the couch and rushes away to do as told. Steve casually raises from the couch and you both take the moment to discuss your next plans. “I know you guys have been pretty intense in the past but you remember what I told you earlier?” He nods, running over your conversation in his mind. You had explained to him the formalities of domination and submissives, gone into detail about how Bucky responded to subspace and how to care for him. Steve straightened up confidently before responding. “Of course. I only want him to feel good.” You smile warmly, gently petting his shoulder with an understanding nod. “I know you do Stevie. You’ll do an amazing job. Ready to go take care of our boy?”

“Lead the way, mommy.” He’s teasing you, in a friendly way of course. You roll your eyes and smirk. “Behave, Captain. We don’t wanna overwhelm Bucky just yet.” He hums in understanding as you lead the way back to the bedroom. Bucky is sitting on his knees in the middle of the bed, stripped nude with his hands clasped patiently behind his back. He truly is a sight to behold. You make your way over to the bed casually, reaching down to trace his jaw. “How do you wanna do this, honey? We wanna take it at your pace.” His eyes flick between the two of you as he tries desperately to find the words needed in the moment. “Want… can I have Steve, mommy? Please?” You tut once again, gripping his soft hair and tugging his hair back harshly. “What did you call him?” You can hear Steve swallow thickly as he watches Bucky’s breath pick up and his cock twitch softly against his abs where it’s straining. Bucky rushes to correct himself. “Captain! I wan’ captain.” You let up on your hold in his hair and softly smooth your hand over his neck. “Good job. Where do you want him, sweet boy?” He’s shaking with humiliation but you know he loves it, loves when you force him to explain exactly what he wants. The burn of shame was delicious, cutting into the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. “I want… can I have his cock, mommy? I wanna feel him inside me, been so long.” Glancing over your shoulder at Steve you take note of his wide pupils and prominent bulge. “I dunno baby. Why don’t you ask your Captain yourself?” The blonde licks his lips, eyes watching Bucky intensely as he steps forward while tugging down the button and fly of his pants. Bucky gently raises his eyes to meet his gaze, face burning as he asks for what he so desperately needed.

“I want your cock, Captain. Can I have it, please?” You watch Steve nod, pulling himself out of his jeans as Bucky practically drooled. “Where do you want it?” He whimpers, too enamored by the arousal thrumming through his veins to reply. You chuckle, coming behind Bucky on the bed so you can wrap your arms around his chest from the back. “You want it in your mouth sweet boy? Or do you want him to fuck that pretty little ass?” They both moan out at your filthy words, Steve slowly jerking himself as Bucky fights for an answer. Both options sounded absolutely heavenly, but he knew he could only have one at a time. So-

“My ass, want it in my ass, Captain.” You coo softly, guiding your boy to gently lean back against your chest as you reach down to spread his legs. Steve places one knee on the bed, leaning down and swallowing Bucky’s soft gasps and moans into his mouth. While the two settled into another sloppy make out session you quickly reached back to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside stand. A short moment later your fingers are covered in slick and pressing softly against the ring of muscle hidden between Bucky’s full cheeks. His moan is absolutely broken as you gently push your finger in, only up to the first knuckle. Slowly you begin to work him open while sucking dark hickeys over the back of his neck. Steve pulls back to shift his weight fully onto the bed, eyes trailing down to watch as Bucky greedily swallowed your fingers. The sight was enough to make him throb painfully. With gently pushes you gradually work your entire finger past his hole before adding a second gently. Tears begin to fall from Bucky’s pretty eyes and Steve makes quick work of licking the salty treat away. You sigh softly, enjoying the show so much that for a moment you almost forgot that you were the one calling the shots. You had a fleeting thought of a super soldier sandwich and happily tucked it away in your mind for later. Tonight was about your baby boy, after all.

“Are you ready honey? Think you’re nice and stretched for Captain’s dick?” He nods feverishly, head tipping back against your shoulder as he grinds down against your fingers. There’s a soft squish as you pull your hand away, wiping your fingers off on his thigh. Steve shuffled closer with cock in hand but doesn’t seem to be in any kind of rush. He takes his time, tracing the fat tip from Bucky’s balls down over his quivering hole. Ever so gently he pushes forward and groans lowly as his tip is accepted easily. You gently skim your hands across your boyfriend’s chest as he quivers, eyes squeezed shut and lip caught tightly between his teeth. He’s whining and rocking down, trying so hard to chase the delicious burn of his Captain’s heavy prick forcing him open. It takes a decent amount of time but finally Steve is able to bottom out, holding himself tightly against Bucky’s hips as he fights to resist the urge to absolutely ruin the man underneath him. He gives a soft thrust and you grin and Bucky’s debauched moan of pure pleasure. “Oh! Please, Captain!” He was always so cute when he got needy and whiny like this. Making eye contact with the other man you reach out to pull him forward by his shirt. Spurred on by the heat of the moment your lips meet and Bucky feels tears burn his eyes at the sight as his cock grows impossibly harder. He had never seen something so sexy before. Steve sets up a slow, deep pace as he continues to keep you locked in a lazy kiss. Your attention is pulled away by the soft cries of your boyfriend as you both look over to his face. He’s absolutely ruined already, tears streaming his face as he writhes against the pleasure. Steve seems to get off on the sight as he picks up his pace which only serves to push Bucky even further into his pleasure filled haze.

“Does that feel good, baby boy? Huh?” You can tell that Bucky is drawing close to his release. His eyes are unfocused as he gasps and moans while his face shines with fat tears. Slipping your hand down between their bodies you grab ahold of him and within three sharing tugs he’s cumming with a loud sob, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Steve’s pace continues for a few more moments before he pulls back with a strangled groan as he begins to fist his cock rapidly. After another moment he also manages to reach his climax, releasing thick spurts over your boyfriend with a soft hiss. A heavy silence fills the room as both men fight to catch their breath while you slyly raise your hand up to your mouth, sucking down the now combined taste of them both. Gently you shift to the side and guide Bucky down onto his back so he can recover before slipping from the bed in search of a wet cloth. When you return from the bathroom the two have curled against each other while Steve peppers small kisses all over the brunette’s face as he mumbles soft confirmations of his love. Bucky is clearly still floating on air as you make quick work of cleaning them both with a gentle hand. Cleaned and thuroughly fucked through you leave them one last time to flick off the light before joining them both in bed. Together in a mess of limbs and warm kisses the three of you fall asleep.

When Bucky wakes up it takes him several long seconds to remember what had happened the night before. The bed is empty but still warm. Carefully he plays his feet on the floor, hissing softly when he stands as a stab of pain cuts through his backside. It all comes crashing down on him then, the memories of being pressed between the two people he loved the most. He pulls on a pair of clean pajamas for the dresser before padding out into the hallway.

There’s soft music playing from your record player, something old that he remembers hearing before the war. He catches sight of you and Steve in the kitchen, giggling and talking quietly as you both made breakfast. He watched as you leant up, kissing the blonde’s cheek before returning to the pancakes you had to flip. He enters the kitchen quietly as he steps behind you to peek over your shoulder. Steve notices and shoots him a smile that makes his stomach flutter.

“Morning Buck. Sleep well?”

He blinks, thinking for a moment before he nods.

“Yeah, the best sleep I’ve had in seventy years.”

He didn’t need to explain why, you both knew. And that was probably the best part of this entire thing, the silent understanding shared between the three of you. You press a soft kiss to his lips and when you pull away Steve takes your place, claiming Bucky’s lips as his own for another sweet peck. Yeah, Bucky though absentmindedly, he could get used to this.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #steve x bucky #bucky smut #bucky x steve #stucky #bottom bucky barnes #top steve rogers #sub bucky barnes #dom steve rogers #stucky x y/n #marvel #marvel smut #the avengers #avengers smut

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Secret Sweetheart - Ana-Maria Crnogorčević x Reader

A/n: Because who doesn't love AMC? Also I've basically been dangling this fic in front of @lostinwoso for a while now but I finally finished it and started working on the sequel before the final yesterday... enjoy!

///

No more dating teammates. That was what Ana decided after her last break-up.

Walking towards the door that opened out onto the path to the training pitch, Ana was not expecting to catch one of her teammates in her arms as they stumbled backwards. Her hands on your hips to steady you, Ana couldn’t help but smell a sweet citrus scent as you twisted in her arms, your hands on her shoulders momentarily before you gave the Swiss woman a sweet smile. 

Your sweet smile was contradicted by the mischievousness in your eyes however, as you headed away, secretly plotting how to get back at Patri later.

The citrus scent soon faded as Ana was snapped out of her haze by the door opening behind her, revealing a confused Leila who was wondering why Ana was blocking the door.

“What are you doing?” Leila enquired, but you were long gone, so Ana looked like she was just blocking the door for no reason, the Swiss woman shrugging at Leila before the Spaniard hooked an arm around her shoulders, heading towards the training pitch together.

She might sound ridiculous but there was something about the way you smelled like baked goods that had Ana intrigued. Did you live near a bakery? You didn’t, but you kept your secret to yourself.

Even when sweet treats started appearing in the canteen, these specific treats had been cleared by the dietary staff. Your teammates adored the banana bread that was left one day, then a few weeks later, somehow brownies had gotten approved by the staff (they had beetroot in, although nobody could tell).

Then one training after a UWCL group stage game, muffins appeared. Teammates none the wiser, they didn’t even notice how you never tried any of the healthy treats, but the pieces were slowly falling into place for the Swiss national player.

You smelt like ground spices one morning as you arrived at morning training. The aroma immediately catching Ana’s attention, she didn’t mean to let her eyes linger as you went to change into your training gear, but the playfully confused look as you glanced up from tying your laces didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“See something you like?”

“You smell nice today.” Ana could feel the heat on her face, you had caught her.

“Only today? I’m kidding, but you should probably get one of those protein ball things someone brought to the canteen this morning. That hungry look in your eye is quite noticeable.” You teased, grinning at how Ana's face went through several emotions quickly.

“Oh, really?” Ana let out a breath of laughter, her hand reaching out to your arm as you made to walk out to training.

“You might need the energy,” you took a step closer to the Swiss international player, biting your lip for a moment, “I think we’ve got a gym session today.” 

Ana’s jaw hung open as you walked away, catching up with Patri to attempt to swipe the speaker from her, the aim being to try to play something other than reggaeton. 

Your comment about ‘protein ball things’ as you put it, crept up again in Ana’s mind between training sessions for the day, the team heading inside when a shout from Pere down the corridor caught everyone’s attention.

“These things taste so good!”

You hid your smirk in a very fake sneeze, eventually turning it into a light cough, hiding the truth of the protein balls, and every other baked healthy treat that had appeared the last few months in the canteen.

Ana paused in chewing, the spices eliciting a hum as she enjoyed the taste of the protein ball, before familiarity hit her. She’d smelt these ground spices before somewhere…

///

“Are you going to dinner tonight?” Leila enquired, approaching you after training but you shook your head.

“I’m at a charity conference ball, I don’t know- Ale, what’s the mental health charity thing we’re at tonight supposed to be again?” You replied, turning to try to find your captain, who was talking to Ana and Irene.

“Gala.” Alexia filled in the blanks in your memory.

“Ah, yeah, smart clothes event. Smarter than smart clothes for team dinner anyway…” Your nose crinkled up, wondering if you could wear cleaned up trainers or if you needed to polish your smart shoes that you hadn’t worn since you were in school but still somehow fit.

“You say that like you do not dress up nicely for team dinners.” Ana pointed out, feeling heat in her cheeks as you smirked, making Alexia and Irene smile in amusement.

“Just team dinners?”

“No, no, not just-” Ana scrambled to fix her words, but you had already disappeared across the room to dance with Leila, leaving a smile on the Swiss international’s lips.

“Cheeky little-”

“You two would be good together.” Irene pointed out, whilst Alexia nodded in agreement, her eyes following where you were dancing and how Ana’s eyes still lingered on you.

///

The photos from the gala surfaced on the internet quickly, the photos of you and Alexia attending the charity gala on behalf of Barcelona, and on behalf of the mental health charity you had been involved with even in the early days of your career. Back when you volunteered and participated in bake sales to help raise money. Something you kept doing, anonymously though, even now.

Ana hadn’t meant to be so distracted by Instagram, but the photos of you dressed up for the gala were stuck in her mind, and on her phone as she looked at the smile on your face, the fight in your eyes.

Your work for the mental health charity dated back before you joined Barcelona, having spent two years in the WSL after moving from the Damallsvenskan. You were younger than Rolfö, who had gone from the Damallsvenskan in Sweden to the Frauen-Bundesliga, but you knew Rolfö from the Swedish national team… 

“Ey!” Jenni laughed, turning around to find Ana had walked into the back of her. Ana hadn’t even realised she was daydreaming about you until she walked into the back of Jenni, who raised an eyebrow, grinning at her friend and teammate.

Whatever Jenni was saying went unheard as Ana spotted Rolfö with her arm around your shoulder, the two of you talking about something in Swedish but you smiled when you met Ana’s gaze.

“Hey, did you two hear? Someone brought Scandinavian foods in, they look homemade!”

“I think we will be the judges of that.” You whispered to Rolfö, stealing a wink at Ana before the two of you hurried away to find your fellow Scandinavian teammates on the team and get their opinions on your baking. But none of them knew it was your baking…

“Hmm, could be better.” You murmured but Rolfö elbowed you, a knowing look on her face. She’d had this treat once before, but it tasted even better than when you brought some to your first Swedish national camp years ago.

“You have gotten even better at making these.” Your national teammate whispered in Swedish to you, smiling as you bashfully looked down, trying to ignore the weird moans some of your teammates were making to emphasise how much they liked the anonymously donated baked treats.

“I try my best. Plus, better looking and better tasting, more money for charity.” You replied, your use of Swedish getting the attention of more than just Rolfö, but Caro and Ingrid shrugged it off, choosing to chat to Marta and Mapi, respectively, about the baked treats.

Ana watched from the corner of her eye, holding one of the baked goods in her hands, away from Leila who was about to swipe it.

“What do you think? Do you feel tempted by Scandinavian sweet treats now?” You teased Ana later on after practice, not expecting to see her smirk.

“I was feeling tempted by a Scandinavian sweet treat before now.” Ana’s boldness made your spine tingle with goosebumps, her hand drifting up to remove an eyelash from your cheek.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Biting your lip nervously, you waited for Ana’s answer, but her smile was enough.

“What do you have in mind?”

///

What you had in mind was Ana coming around to your place, especially when the restaurant you wanted to originally go to was closed for the evening for a deep clean or something. Or that’s what your friend (who had attended one of the bake sales you gave baked goods to in order to raise money for charity) said anyway.

One of which was coming up and you wanted to make something for it. The sweet aroma in the air had you cracking open a window, but you kept an eye on the timer, then the clock to check when Ana was arriving.

Glancing through the window of your oven, you observed the rising muffins carefully, taking another glance at the timer before hearing the buzzer go off.

Hurrying over to press the button to let whoever it was into the building, you checked through the peephole as Ana arrived at the door, opening it after taking another glance at the timer in your kitchen.

“Hey. I hope it’s okay we eat in…” chewing your lip, you were glad you requested a quiet but cosy and fun night instead of something fancy. The gala wiped out your motivation for fancy fancy right now.

“Well, this place smells amazing, what are you making?” Ana enquired, tilting her head to the side as she heard a timer go off.

“Muffins.”

“A lot of muffins?” Ana raised an eyebrow, but you didn’t see how her face lit up with realisation, and intrigue, because you were throwing on your oven gloves and removing the trays of muffins from the oven.

“These can’t be for the team…” Ana trailed off, having not figured out everything as you smirked slightly.

“Nope. My dear Sherlock, you have only figured out half of the puzzle. These are not for the team, these are for a charity bake sale. The team is only allowed the super healthy stuff that has to be approved by the dietitians.” You explained, amused by the look on Ana’s face.

“You act all tough on the pitch, but you are secretly a sweetheart.”

“Secretly? I mean… I keep the baking a secret, I used to volunteer for bake sales for charity before football. When football took off, I changed to doanting the baking anonymously. It means more than just being a face at a gala to me, dressed up in fancy clothing that you’re terrified you’ll somehow stain… plus my baking doesn’t entirely suck. Parents let their children get something from the bake sale… and the staff let the team eat what I anonymously donate to the canteen too. My baking isn’t poisonous.”

“Did you just compare the team to children?”

“Leila tried to steal your snack out of your hand because you were taking too long to eat it.” You deadpanned, making Ana grin at you in a way that left your cheeks feeling warm.

“So, what did you have planned for this evening? Besides revealing you’re a sweetheart who likes to bake for charity bake sales in your off time.” 

“Um… order some takeaway, watch a movie and enjoy the evening with my favourite Swiss national player?” You chewed your lip, draping clean tea towels over the muffins for them to cool down undisturbed.

“Wow. Your favourite Swiss national player?” Ana replied, watching you squirm on the spot for a minute, “so what did you want to order? I don’t think there are any places that do Swedish desserts though.”

“Wow, let’s have dinner first, you have to take me out on a date before you get any Swedish dessert from me…” You murmured, not seeing how Ana’s cheeks were now aflame, as you turned to grab the local takeaway menus you had gathered from your time living in Barcelona.

///

It wasn’t much for a first date but Ana liked it enough that she decided to take you out next time for the second one. Especially after the two of you ended up snuggling on your couch, watching a movie and enjoying each other’s company a little too much.

You had been too nervous to kiss Ana, your confidence in your kissing ability having taken a nosedive. Lingering in the doorway when Ana went to head off for the night, how you chewed nervously at your lip but your gaze kept drifting from her eyes to hers? Ana figured it out. One hand on your hip and the other under your chin, taking a moment for you to nod. Yes you wanted this. Her lips met yours.

///

“What is that lovestruck smile for?” Rolfö teased as she found you staring into space, the lovestruck smile that she was referring to painted across your lips.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you smiled at your national teammate and best friend at the club.

“I had a good time last night.” You replied, spotting Ana arriving at the training pitch with the drinks cooler.

“With Ana? Finally, you two were taking forever!”

“Nobody else knows, we’ve only had two dates, and kissed once… but…” You trailed off, watching Ana in your periphery.

“But I’ve never seen you like this about anyone.” Rolfö teased, pulling you into a celebratory hug before everyone was called over to listen to what the coaches had to say for this training session.

///

Nobody else but Rolfö knew, at first anyway. The two of you were taking it slow after spending the Euros away from each other in England, Ana with the Swiss national team and you with the Swedish team. The two of you were keeping it to yourselves, but with a sprinkle of Rolfö teasing you with knowing looks and smiles when you and Ana stood within metres of each other upon reuniting in pre-season at Barcelona.

It wasn’t until everyone was eating together in the canteen that someone else noticed how close you and Ana had gotten, as Caro went to pick up her fork from the floor.

Climbing under the table to grab it, the Norwegian’s eyes landed on how Ana’s hand rested on your thigh. Obscured by the table from above, you both thought none of your teammates could see, but Caro had already seen enough.

The last member of the Nordics at Barcelona to find out was Ingrid, but it didn’t take long for her to find out either, trying to ask you a question about the movie that you, her, Caro and Rolfö had watched together last night. A question that went entirely unheard by you, because you were completely entranced by Ana, across the room.

“Do you see something you like? You are not subtle.” Ingrid asked, pointing out the obvious as you turned to look at her, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Instead you were caught ogling your girlfriend but nobody else on the team knew you two were dating, besides each other, and Rolfö.

“I- I’m thirsty.” You stammered over your words, hurrying away to find your drinks bottle somewhere.

“Not for water.” Ingrid murmured under her breath, rolling her eyes playfully as Mapi approached, missing the context completely as she smiled in confusion at her girlfriend’s statement.

///

None of your other teammates had questioned the closeness between you and Ana, even when you were holding pinkies in the most obvious of moments around the team.

“Surprised you did not invite Ana to tonight.” Caro broke the quiet as the two of you prepped the snacks for movie night for the Nordic Barcelona teammates.

“She’s busy, and Switzerland and Croatia aren’t classed as Northern Europe?” You frowned in confusion, ignoring how you froze and almost dropped the bag of freshly popped popcorn everywhere but the bowl. You hoped your excuse was enough, because technically significant others were not here anyway.

“Her nationality doesn’t stop her from having her hand on your thigh at each team meal.” Caro chuckled, but you pretended like you didn’t hear her comment, mouthful of the popcorn you took through into the living room.

///

It wasn’t until El Clásico arrived that feelings came to a head. Real Madrid had never been close to a win, their determination, or desperation was showing.

Rolfö had Athenea in her pocket, the younger girl frustrated and almost turning the game into a wrestling match as she struggled.

Your love had managed to get the first goal of the match, not seeing how much her sliding on her knees in celebration had flustered you as Pina had beaten you in the race of being the first to hug her. (You got the photo printed after the match.)

Ana scored 4 minutes in, but the match was dragging out. Real Madrid’s desperation was beginning to irritate you as you had your jersey tugged more than once, hands trying to throw you off of balance but it wasn’t enough to bring you to your knees, (only Ana could do that) let alone take you down to the ground.

Rolfö crossed the ball in, but one of Real Madrid’s defenders got involved, leading to another corner for Barcelona and Mapi to take. It was a scramble as the ball fell down, reaching Patri’s feet but it was caught on a Real Madrid player, whose attempt to get the ball away led the ball to reach you, sending the ball flying in.

You barely had time to react as Ana sweeped you up into her arms, your fingers clinging to her jersey out of instinct as you rested your forehead against hers. Luckily Rolfö managed to reach the two of you in time to break the little moment, Irene moments later pulling you into a hug. But Irene’s hug didn’t have the same meaning that Ana’s did.

Your first goal came at the 43rd minute, but nothing else significant happened before half-time. You could almost taste the intensity of the match, especially the frustration from the Real Madrid team after their centre back, Rocío Gálvez caught the ball on the back of her heel, resulting in an own goal.

The grabbing and pushing was getting worse after that, looking back on it, you would call the battle you had with your marker more like a deadly tango of sorts, deadly because you were far more bruised than you had been when playing against Levante Las Planas three days prior.

Zornoza’s left footed attempt hit the post in the 58th minute, with the game turning to rough and tumble quickly after. It was during the chaos leading up to Rolfö’s goal in the 81st minute that you saw red.

Rocío Gálvez had sent Ana tumbling to the ground within the penalty area, the referee acting as the whistle was blown, but you took the whistle as one to lunge at Gálvez, only stopping in your tracks as Ana caught you, pulling you into her arms. Holding you close, the referee took time to declare a penalty to Barcelona would be given, the team looking between them for who would be the one to take it.

“Take the penalty for me?” Ana’s voice was all you heard through the ringing in your ears, pulling away from where you had buried your face in Ana’s jersey to look at her and nod. Her fingers reached up to wipe gently under your eyes, cupping your face as you met her gaze. Nodding with determination in your eyes, the two of you had to hurry before you were accused of time wasting.

You didn’t see Lucy trying to throw Misa off by doing the same warm-up as the goalkeeper usually did for penalties, standing in wait with a glare on your face.

The memory of you actually kicking the ball was blurry, but you remembered the ball in the net, Misa diving the wrong way and the look of despair on her face before Ana was spinning you around in celebration of your goal.

The memory of the 5-0 victory against Real Madrid was lodged in your mind, but your teammates recalled the game slightly differently compared to you and Ana. Because up until that match, your teammates (minus Rolfö, Caro and Ingrid) had no idea you and Ana were together.

“Since when have you two been a thing?”

“Finally!”

“You two can’t keep secrets from us!”

“They don’t know all our secrets.” You whispered to Ana, gesturing to the mystery that had resulted in you and Ana getting together in the first place. Your baking hobby that had inadvertently led to you catching Ana’s attention after she swore off dating teammates.

Your secret baking hobby had led to you becoming Ana’s sweetheart in all aspects of life. Whilst for you, in addition to all of that, Ana had become your partner in crime helping you prepare for the bake sales you donated your baking to, and becoming your plus one for some of the events you attended as you worked to support mental health charities.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ana-maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana-maria crnogorcevic imagine #AMC x reader #AMC imagine #ana-maria crnogorcevic imagines #woso imagines #barcelona femeni imagines #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic imagines

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi~ can I request "committed relationship with lookism boys" headcannons (such as samuel, jake, gun, eli)? Sorry if it's too much and thank you in advance! 💙

Hi anon, thanks for the ask and sorry for the delay! Of course you can but how dare you leave off our Goofy and also Viiiin. I've got quite a few hc floating around (latest one here for almost everyone). Let's do committed committed though.

Do I have to mention that I hc most of the Lookism guys as romantics in their own way?

Lookism Boys in committed relationships (longer term etc.)

The usual - Sammy, Jake, Gun, Eli, Goo, Vin

Samuel Seo

Being in a committed relationship, or really a relationship at all isn't something he has thought much about but with the right person it can work.

He wants the whole thing - engagement, marriage, kids.

Proposal would be something more traditional and romantic than you would expect.

Likely booking out the fanciest restaurant, enjoying a candlelit dinner followed shortly with Sammy down on one knee with a diamond ring the size of your fist.

Honestly, everything would be a little bit of a spectacle. Used as much to express his love to you as well as his power and status so it's not going to be quiet or chill.

Wants someone that will stay by his side and wants all the formalities to go with it.

The piece of paper saying you're legally married, in sickness and in health, for better or worse would mean a lot to him, though he would never express it.

As always with this guy, fingers crossed he's had a buttload of therapy especially before any kids come along.

Jake Kim

Hmm, let's leave anything longer term until after he retires from Big Deal.

Obviously a romantic, though he does not want a repeat of his dad, where he leaves you at home and he's off gallivanting doing gangster shit.

It goes without saying but to clarify: Jake is a one woman man. If he's in a relationship with you, nothing will ever make him turn his head.

Like Sammy, wants to experience everything with you by his side. The marriage, the kids, the growing old together.

As the head of Big Deal though, he knows that he would not be able to give you the attention you deserve.

Doesn't ask you to wait for him, he could never get in the way of your happiness though he desperately wishes that you would.

And of course you do, it's Jake!

Meeting his mother, that force of a woman, wife of Gapryong Kim, might be the most intimidating experience of your life. You leave in awe and a little in love with her yourself.

Gun Park

Actually did think marriage would be on the cards, although one of convenience rather than love.

(It would come as a very pleasant and welcome surprise that his life turns out that way.)

If it was an arranged/convenient marriage then you'll barely see him tbh. And he would expect an open marriage.

If Gun loves you, then this guy is traditional as hell in a committed relationship, and a romantic too.

Will get you a gifts sent to your work, bouquet of roses, or just buy you something because it reminds him of you. Remembers anniversaries and make sure there is something special prepared.

That antique necklace you said you liked in passing? It's on your pillow the next day. That place you said you wanted to see? You're going that weekend.

Yes to engagement, yes to marriage, yes to kids.

The proposal would be something very specific and sentimental to you both. The wedding, less so. He has a lot of customs he would need to follow being head of the Yamazaki Clan and Gun being who he is.

With kids, doesn't matter what gender, Gun would mould them to be his masterpiece.

Eli Jang

Quite honestly didn't expect a long term or committed relationship to be on the cards. (He should really be focusing on Yenna instead of gallivanting around playing loan shark with 5A - ahem).

Most responsible parents would take a while before introducing you to their kid, but with Eli - has the vibe that oh shit something has come up with 5A and will dump Yenna on you.

What can I say, it's been obvious that this guy's logic and critical thinking isn't his strong point.

Doesn't really care for all the formalities of long term relationships, the expectation of marriage but isn't opposed to it. Besides, it would be good to have the extra bit of added stability for Yenna.

Would have a small intimate wedding with just the nearest and dearest.

Likely to also get a couples tattoo too (have you seen the H on his FOREHEAD? That guy is BOLD.)

Can't imagine him actually wanting more kids, the first time round was traumatic enough.

However, if you really want more then he will consider it. Especially because it would be pretty cute for Yenna to be the older sis.

Goo Kim

Hard to get this guy to commit to you in the first place. He generally only has one thought: mind on his money and money on his mind.

Will be hard for this guy to admit his feelings for you, and whether he truly misses you or if it's just his clingy nature.

Once in a relationship, expect to be spoiled. What's the point of making all this if you can't enjoy it? And even though the gifts might not be to your taste (and in all honesty, pretty ostentatious), it's the thought that counts.

With long term plans, Goo is pretty easy-going and happy to go with the flow.

If you want to get married, just say the word. A little backyard wedding or hiring the most expensive wedding in Seoul - go for it.

Want a lil sparkle on your ring finger or none at all, also fine too.

Hint: best wedding present for him? Get him some swords.

Fence-sitter with kids, but if you want them then he can be swayed. Let's just enjoy more of our youth and our freedom first.

Vin Jin

Ahhh he's a secret cheeseball. Although maybe it's not so secret. He is SOFT for you, in his own standoffish way. Thinks he's cool about it but it's obvious to everyone.

Doesn't think too much long term and doesn't feel the need to get married. He's committed to you, he shows you, he tells you and feels that that's enough.

More likely for you guys to get hitched with a quickie wedding where you may or may not be drunk.

And then the morning after and nursing a hangover, Vin thinks huh. This is sorta nice.

You guys don't really do the engagement ring or wedding ring thing. There'll be something just as sentimental like a couples necklace.

Besides, who wouldn't be able to tell you're together with your constant couple outfits.

Kids? Ehh. Vin likes the idea of them but not the responsibility. If it'll happen, it'll happen.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism hc #gun park #gun park x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #eli jang #eli jang x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #goo kim #goo kim x reader #vin jin #vin jin x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[fountainofrubies]

The out of control Suneater / Tamaki Amajiki x Fem reader 18+

tags/warnings: Explicit sexual content, orgasms, quirks, tentacles, constriction, pain, genital descriptions, She/Her

🍋 Tamaki has missed you so much that he can’t wait to play with you. You try your quirk on him for the first time, not knowing your own strength. You turn him loose with extreme amounts of arousal thanks to your gaseous quirk. The shy and quiet Tamaki that you know seems to take a backseat. Unable to control himself, he becomes aggressive with you.

————-

Weeks later from the 7 minutes of Heaven game that you two shared, there have been quite a few steamy make out sessions and a good bit of play between you and Tamaki. Every chance he gets to be with you, he’s there, although he is usually uptight and rather nervous. It’s been almost a week since he had been able to be with you intimately though. You missed him a lot during your trip, but you’re glad to be back.

While on Patrol today, Tamaki stood frozen after seeing your approach. We lost some of the progress with Tamaki’s comfortability in you two’s relationship that was gained before your trip. That, coupled with the fact that your appearance was not planned, had Tamaki tense and stressed when he saw you coming. Quickly jumbling in order to come up with something to say, he exhaled in relief when you started talking to him first.

“Tamaki! It’s great to see you! I know that I didn’t tell you that I’d be back today, I wanted it to be a surprise!” you say cheerfully as you hug him.

“It’s good to see you too.. and it worked, it’s definitely a nice surprise.” He mumbles and his smile is a little wobbly, but he really means it. He’s thought about you nonstop while you were away. “Since I’ve got the green light to go home, would you like to come?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to take. So you do.

“I’d love to!” You smile warmly. You pull a candy out of your pocket, unwrapping it. It’s his favorite. He opens up as you reach towards him to put it in his mouth, making him blush as you touch his bottom lip with your thumb. It makes him laugh softly as he starts to chew it.

As you walk, you come to an area that is usually free of people and traffic as you get further away from the bustle of the city. It looks quiet, as expected. As you two keep walking, you pull Tamaki with you when you get to the specific area that you had in mind. You go down the long alley way, and turn down another stretch, pushing him up against the wall softly, you gently kiss him while rubbing his shoulders, eventually reaching his elbows with your fingertips. He wraps his arms around you as he kisses you needily.

His voice low and shaky, but full of needy passion, he tells you, “I’ve missed this so much.” His moans come softly as you kiss his neck. As you pull away, his breathing calms. “How was your trip?”

You reply, “It was great! I learned so much about my quirk and it’s even stronger now! The teach asked me to hit him with it at half speed and it gave him so much nausea that he was useless. Before I went, it would take me giving it my all to affect someone like that!”

Tamaki praises you, “Great job! You really took training seriously then! I’m curious as to what all you could do to a person.”

You blush when he says this because you have been thinking about wanting to try something in particular on him. He notices, raising one of his eyebrows in a questioning way. Feeling pressed to explain, you admit “I’m sorry if I’m acting weird! I have been fantasizing about trying certain things on you.. and I guess that was the first thing that came to mind for me when you said that.”

He started to fiddle with his fingers as he responded. “Well.. what did you have in mind?”

You ask him outright, “Tamaki.. can I try my quirk on you? There’s an aspect of it that I want to test.. but I haven’t really had anyone I could test.. this type of thing on..”

Knowing that your quirk is like a gaseous excretion and that you affect people, and animals in various ways according to your will, he asks you, “This thing you want to try.. it’s naughty isn’t it?” He waits for your answer bashfully.

You smile “Yes.. yes it is.”

He fiddles more with his fingers. “Well.. I’m willing.. I mean, you have full control right? Like if something went wrong?”

You nod, your eyes shining. “I can nullify the effects.. or change what you’re experiencing. Sure.”

“Okay then..” He definitely looks nervous as he watches you curiously. His eyes widen and he looks away quickly after he sees you reach under your skirt and pull your panties down, taking them off.

You lean forward, kissing Tamaki gently. At first his lips are tight and tense. With some effort, his lips soften and cooperate with yours. You inhale slowly, taking a deep breath in and then you dose him with a very large hit of your quirk, giving him everything you’ve got.

After a breath or two, he begins to fill with an intense heavy desire that aggressively overtakes his body. His muscles begin to tense up, as he steps backwards, his heart pounding. His eyes are very wide as he slowly looks over at you, roughly flooding with intense need as he stands up straight, rigid, locked into position. He’s trembling, locked into this position, gritting his teeth. He moans through his gritted teeth, furrowing his brow as he continues to desperately battle for self control. His erection feels massive, throbbing like never before and it is the most blindingly intense, gripping erection that he has ever felt in his life. Seconds pass as he continues to tremble, his breathing quickening. He’s looking at you with an extremely desperate amount of need. As you come closer to him, his eyes follow you, locked onto yours. It takes quite a bit of effort, but he manages to get a sentence out. His entire being feels like it is about to erupt and his voice sounds like it is falling apart at the seams. “I don’t want to hurt you…” he says in a panicked and shaky voice. His entire body is flexing as he holds fast, making him groan as uncontrollable urges come to him in waves, drowning his attempts to control himself. His breaths become very strained and deeply desperate as his body begins to quake.

As impressive as his ability to control himself thus far truly is, you quickly deliver a message to him that you hope will free him from the raging battle he is fighting within himself to forcibly control his body. “If anything goes wrong or gets too dangerous, I’ll use my quirk to control the situation, I promise…” You continue, “Tamaki, let go.” Reaching down, you firmly squeeze his cock throw his tunic, letting go immediately after. With a huge gasp, Tamaki’s moves come reflexively and automatically, the intensity dizzying. In the split second that it takes for all 5 of the thick tentacles that are zooming towards you to wrap around you, coiling up all around your entire being, encasing you, a loud sound rips out of Tamaki’s throat. He’s half screaming, half growling as he whips you into the wall behind you. The tentacles take the impact as they protect your body from any damage. The sudden impact does surprise you though, making you gasp as more adrenaline releases into your body. Not even a second passes since your gasp of dark surprise before Tamaki is already on you clutching your arm as he peers at you looking extremely hot and bothered. You’re at his eye level, being held inches above the ground. No time is wasted as tentacles shoot from his other hand, grabbing his clothes, pulling his tunic to the side, twisting it up and securing it so that it will be tucked out of the way. Other tentacles grab ahold of the lower half of his body suit and rip it apart, revealing his skin and his large, throbbing cock. It looks even bigger right now, and it was already big to start with.

As his tentacles shrink back into his free hand, he pulls the slick liquid seeping out of the head of his cock down its length, all the way to the base. Moaning, he repeats the actions rapidly, which coats his cock in the largest amount of precum that he has ever produced at one time ever before. Immediately, he penetrates you. While he is grabbing your shoulder, the first two thrusts are moderately paced but strong, making you bounce as his body makes contact with you. After that, he moves quickly, grabbing your waist with his free hand as he starts fucking you as fast as he can. Whimpering in between his choked, desperate moans, he reaches towards you, unable to think about anything but the pleasure. He grabs the back of your neck with his free hand, pulling himself close to your ear, growling as he holds you roughly, “OH!~ AH! You feel so fucking good!” His voice is aggressive, despite the loud moans, sending a chill down your spine. His pace has become punishing. His moans are spilling out rapidly, turning you on more and more as he rails you.

As for you, you only seem to get wetter and wetter. Your cheeks are becoming red. You gasp for air. Tamaki looks down at your body as he continues to thrust into you roughly, and although it takes him a few seconds to process it, he notices that he is constricting you far too tightly with his tentacles. The parts of your skin that are visible are all glowing varying shades of red. You’re aware that you’re being squeezed tightly, but you’re so caught up in how Tamaki feels inside of you that you ignored the uncomfortable pressure. You’re still gasping though, and Tamaki starts fighting for control of his body again. His thrusts are still coming as he tries to let go of you with his tentacles, but he’s having issues. He feels a fresh wave of panic as he realizes how little control he really has over himself now. He screams out, as he tenses his body with everything he’s got, trying to force control. He goes rigid, his open hand hits the wall beside you just above your shoulder as he tries to lock himself into a steel stance. Unable to stretch his arm all the way out so he can wrench himself away from you, he thrusts into you again greedily, even more quickly, grunting and moaning loudly. He continues to try to pull out of you but it’s just not working for him. He thrusts into you once more and pressed up against you with force, hoping that going forward and freezing would work better than trying to push himself backwards or pulling out, and for a second it does.

As he’s pushed all the way inside of you, his nose is inches away from yours, his breath spilling all over your face in bursts. He looks like a wreck, mouth agape watching you as he fights himself, his body screaming at him. His stance doesn’t budge an inch but you do feel the tentacles around you trembling as he works as hard as he can to loosen his grip on you. But then, suddenly, you feel a crazily dizzying sensation that makes you choke out a heavy, wet, sob of a moan, followed by many more of them. There’s rapid movement happening inside you as his quirk manifests, it feels like your insides are spinning. Tamaki groans as his member contorts, spinning wildly as you're drilled by some sort of tentacly, phallic concoction. There’s no way to know exactly what is happening in there, but you feel extremely full up as whatever it is that keeps thrusting forward wildly, writhes inside of you, only to feel like it retreats back into the original shape of Tamaki’s cock for just a second before it repeats again and again. You choke out another sob as Tamaki looks at you, eyes wide with shock and panic, his breath desperately wild. “Please..”, he pleads, his voice shaking, “Help me.”

Just as soon as those words left his mouth, you sprung into action, blowing a strong, cool stream of air into his face to hit him with enough force to affect him quickly as he gasps and moans. The dose takes effect very quickly as the tentacles wrapped around begin to turn you loose, his tense body slightly hunches toward you as it relaxes. He grabs you with his free hand, holding your shoulder so that you’ll meet the ground without stumbling as you slip out of his hold, all of the tentacles retracting.

Regardless of the dose of calm you just hit him with, he still looks scared as he blurts out the words, “I’m so sorry..” He has a heartbreakingly hurt look on his face that cuts you to the core. “Are you hurt?” He looks distraught.

You shake your head no as you nearly tear up. You respond to him, “No Tamaki, I’m sorry.. That was so selfish of me.. You felt so good that I just let you go at it. I was so lost in how amazing you felt that all I could think about was your every move.. I wasn’t even thinking about how you must have felt..” Now the tears are coming, you feel them freshly rolling down each of your cheeks. “I used my quirk so carelessly.” Your face is so hot as you whimper, “I care for you deeply, Tamaki.. how could I do that to you?” Your lip trembles.

Tamaki strokes your cheek. “Heyyy,” he says, suddenly soft with you, on a mission to comfort you, focusing hard on succeeding at it. “It’s okay, it was an accident right? I just didn’t want to hurt you.. I was terrified that I was going to.. It’s okay.” He wipes your tears away and then holds your cheeks. “I’m okay.. I just panicked when I failed to gain control. I was squeezing you so hard…. I.. I was scared to death that you might pass out or something and that I wouldn’t be able to stop to even help you.. I don’t know, I’m just sorry..”

You sniffle as you let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.. I thought I’d ruined everything.. I thought for sure that you’d want nothing to do with me now after I did that with my stupid quirk. I feel so embarrassed.”

He leans down and kisses your lips, romantically even, as his tongue enters your mouth delicately and then retreats back into his. “Your quirk is amazing. It’s a part of you, it makes you who you are. It’s so powerful and it felt amazing. I just need to have a bit more control, bunny. Hit me with it again, just not full force. I’ll let you know if I want a little more or less as needed. Can you do that?”

You nod, hopeful that the experience will end on a much better note. You reach up and kiss him again, giving him a smaller dose than you did last time.

His eyes roll back for a split second and he looks at you again. “I want you so bad.. So bad.. As if I didn’t already want you enough..”

“What?” you ask, understanding what was said, but craving more information on the subject.

Feeling dizzy with desire, Tamaki isn’t even thinking about his nerves at this moment. He’s breathing slow but deeply, hissing as he inhales here and there, curling his lip a bit as it happens. Now he’s moving slowly to your side as he reaches forward and kisses your neck. He falls into the moment, no longer caring that you'll know the things he’s about to tell you. His hot breath bathes your neck as he whispers to you, “I’ve been thinking about being inside of you ever since you left. When I see you regularly, I have to make myself come multiple times before I even come out to meet you. It’s the only way I can get my body to be less obvious when I stand near you.”

You swallow, your throat is tight and you feel a little dizzy yourself. “Tamaki? Is that true.”

He nods slowly, up close in your face. His gaze and his movement are both slow and sensual. He licks your parted lips, running his tongue softly across them. “Give me some more.” he says lowly, making your heart beat fast. You blow at him, just a bit, stoking his fire.

He opens his mouth as he places his bottom lip in between your lips, breathing openly as he pauses. As you suck on his lip gently, he moans, the hot air heating up your face. Your hot, wet center is aching for him. You’re starting to tremble yourself, his sex appeal feels so dense and heavy. He moans again, bringing his lips together, initiating a sloppy kiss. He sticks his tongue in your mouth. “How about just a bit more? I think I’m close.”

You shoot a just a bit of air into his slightly opened mouth and he takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and pausing. “Let’s leave it here.. like this.” He groans as he touches your lips with his thumb. “I want you. Are you gonna let me have some more of you now?” His voice is soft but it’s also sexy as hell. “Yeah? Can I fuck you now?” He strokes his cock a couple of times, moaning.

You are a puddle. Putty in his hands. You whine as you moan your “Yes” to him. His cock is long, thick and throbbing. Breathing heavily, he grunts as he pulls his tunic back up, tucking it back in how he had it before. He picks you up, grabbing your leg and placing it on the side of his hip so you will lock them around him.

You’re ready to beg yourself. “And your tentacles? Will you hold me again?”

He blushes a bit as he smiles, his tentacles obedient and gentle, wrap around you, becoming tighter as he lifts you very slightly to hold you in place. He enters into you again, moaning shakily, pushing into you slowly, throbbing repeatedly. After a few soft strokes, he begins to speed up. His heart is racing. He’s full of heat, his hips greedily returning to you every time he pulls away. His grunts, moans and whines are coming constantly now, in a very random order.

You ask him as you whimper, groaning as he thrusts into you. “The last thing you were doing to me.. can you try it? I was very close at the end there..”

He thrusts in a few more times and starts to engage with his quirk similarly to how it felt like it was moving before, starting slowly, not having used it this way ever before. It feels amazing as he repeats the movements, now moving in a consistent pattern. Not even one whole minute later, you feel pressure growing as he continues, moving a bit stronger as time continues. Now you are moaning repeatedly, sounding off alongside him. He grunts and whines with just about every stroke now. You tense up and curl towards him in every way that you can, he begins to shuffle the movements even more firmly and faster. An orgasm ripples through you, as you tremble while he presses his whole body up against you. The sight, the sensations, the sounds you’re making, you bucking as you squeeze his cock repeatedly, all of it only pushes him that much closer to the edge. He returns back to the way he was fucking you before, his cock pulsing as he grinds into you with intensity and deep need. He begins moving a lot faster, and the sounds he is making start spilling out at a pace that matches his speed. “Im about to come. I’m gonna come..” he informs you urgently as his movements start coming in sloppier and sloppier, his grip tighter as he rapidly slaps into you. He wraps his arms around you, still using the tentacles with one hand, grasping you tightly with the other as he plunges into you choppily, moaning loudly, riding out his extremely pleasurable orgasm. He holds you until his breathing begins to settle and he puts you down afterwards. He begins to fix his clothes, sighing at how he ripped his bodysuit earlier in order to shove his cock into you. He fixes his tunic so that the large hole is covered, laughing as he meets your eye. He holds out his hand towards you. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

You take his hand and ask him, “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

He puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk and he kisses you on the side of your head. “Yes. I’d love to.”

#tamaki amakiji #tamaki x you #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x y/n #amajiki x reader #mha amajiki #suneater #suneater x reader #tentacles #mha tamaki #tamaki smut #amajiki smut

[aechawrites]

200mph: part one | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

rating: pg13

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking and smoking, y/n is a little uncomfy but jimin stays with her like a good bff, brief mention of a racing accident

summary: as jungkook begins the new racing season, a face he’s never seen before quickly catches his attention.

series masterlist

next chapter ↻

✏︎

“I don’t understand why you want me to go, you have guy friends that are interested in that kind of stuff, don’t you?”

“That’s not the point, Y/n. If I wanted them to go, I would’ve asked them by now, but I asked you.”

You sighed, slightly shaking your head at the begging boy in front of you while slowly making eye contact with the ground and lowering yourself onto the foot of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around your upper body and you couldn’t help but let out another huff, contemplating whether or not you should give him a bullshit excuse as to not go.

Jimin has been your best friend since you were young kids, meeting for the first time in elementary school. As you grew up, the two of you became inseparable, always spending time together. And on a typical day you would have loved spending your Friday night with him, that is, up until recently.

As the two of you began college back in the fall, you both started to branch out and try new things. You knew Jimin was going to fit right in with the frat boys and it was reassuring to have someone watch your back at their parties; it made them a little more bearable. What you did not expect was for Jimin to gain an interest in motorsports, specifically street racing.

You had heard him saying not too long ago that some of the guys in the frat house raced occasionally. 'Big money,' he said, but if only you knew just exactly how much those winners were getting paid, as well as the spectators who decided to bet on certain drivers.

The two of you had just gotten takeout and were lying in your dorm room while watching (and making fun of) random reality shows. You had gotten up to use the bathroom just to come back out and have Jimin spring onto you that there was a street race tonight and a couple of his frat brothers would be there racing.

And instead of going by himself and making friends like the social butterfly he is, he of course had to invite you.

Now here you were, brain working overtime trying to come up with some lame excuse to seem busy. But Jimin knew you weren't.

"Y/n, I promise you'll have a good time tonight. It's not as boring as you think. We'll only be there for an hour or two and then we can come back to the dorms," he expressed while softly pouting his lips at you.

"What's in it for me?"

Jimin rolled his eyes at you. "I'll finish your damn English paper, okay?"

Although still reluctant, you agreed to go. As long as this doesn't become a regular Friday night occurrence for you, how bad could it be? It also helped that he gave you the biggest eye smile after you said yes.

♥︎⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁♥︎

You thought that maybe four to five people would be here racing, bringing a few friends each, but no. Not at all. In fact, the streets were packed like a full house. There had to have been roughly twenty guys standing alongside their expensive muscle cars, engines roaring loudly and echoing through the streets, wheels shining as camera flashes blinded them. There were also probably two hundred people who got their asses up to come out tonight to see these men race. The atmosphere seemed similar to some of the parties you had been to, so it was to no surprise that it garnered a large viewing.

But putting it simply, you were intimidated. It was very crowded and here you were being dragged behind Jimin as he tried to get the two of you closer to the front where the start/finish line was located. Was it really necessary for these large muscular men to keep giving you side eye as you bumped into them?

Had it not been for the dozens of lights and neon signs hung up everywhere, the streets would have practically looked like a ghost town. There was nothing here, close to abandonment, which made for the perfect place. Old beer cans and ashes scattered the ground, you noted that they must have been racing here for a lot longer than you originally thought.

You brought your gaze up, looking around when you noticed there were cigarettes and blunts everywhere. Almost every guy here was either smoking or drinking, sharing with the girls who had draped themselves overtop of them. They were practically naked as they wore knee-high strappy stilettos and those short, skimpy skirts (the ones that stop just below their ass cheeks), paired with either a very cropped tank top, or a V-neck top that rested so low that their breasts would fall out any minute. It was almost impossible not to catch a glimpse of their lacey thongs as they wrapped their arms around the guys' shoulders. Although you knew those guys were enjoying the attention they got, the views being an added bonus.

But what were you wearing tonight? A t-shirt and jeans.

Did Jimin tell you about the unofficial "dress code" for this kind of event? Nope.

You wouldn't have dressed like them even if he had told you, but you also could've worn something even a slight bit more revealing than this! Even if it was a skirt that went mid-thigh along with a tighter top!

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, breaking your train of thought and gaze away from the crowd and closing back on Jimin. His hand was on your elbow as he pulled you closer, leaning down to your ear and started yelling, but you could still barely hear him over the blasting music. "The race is about to start; my pick is Jeon."

"I guess I'll go with him then, too," you said as you smiled back up at him. The two of them had been good friends for a while, so what better choice?

You had heard of Jeon Jungkook, even seeing him around a few times when partying with Jimin. How could you miss him whenever he wore those tight jeans and white shirts that hugged his muscles so perfectly, complementing his tanned skin. And his tattoos! God those fucking tattoos made you want to drop to your knees right then and there for him. It didn't help that he not only had an eyebrow piercing, but also a lip ring that he just couldn't seem to stop playing with. Jungkook is a very attractive man, and you could agree with that whether you were in a drunken state or not.

But you knew Jungkook hadn't heard of you. There was no way. In fact, he never even spared you a glance at any of those parties. His tongue seemed to be always shoved down someone else's throat. The only mutual friend the two of you had was Jimin, but since you both came from complete opposite sides of his life, you were rarely crossed paths with each other.

Yet again, your thoughts were quickly broken, startling you as everyone began to cheer louder; you noticed the guys were now getting into their respective cars. Engines revved as each of their names were introduced, girls fawning and screaming over them.

As everyone moved out of the street and onto the sidewalks, the announcer walked onto the platform, taking the mic. "I want a clean race gentlemen. You know how this goes; first place takes it all. Ready... Set... GO!"

And with that, they were out of your sight as they sped off and made the first turn. From where Jimin had you standing, there were large screens visible on the side of the buildings that showed them from a drone view as they raced through the city. It was terrifying watching as they weaved around each other, just narrowly avoiding a few obstacles that happened to be in the way.

It was easy for you not to lose sight of Jungkook. He stood out by driving the brightest neon blue Chevrolet Camaro you had ever seen, decorated with white stripes down the middle. He also happened to be leading significantly in front of the other racers, giving him just enough time to makes turns a bit more cautiously.

You turned back to Jimin. "How long are they racing for?"

"Usually about 7 miles. Not too long, but just long enough to get a good race out of these guys."

You nodded your head, eyes focusing back onto the screens.

You winced when some of the girls would let out these high-pitched shrieks whenever they saw two of the guys spin each other around, smoke engulfing their cars, but the racing never stopped. It didn't matter what happened or how badly they would place, the race would go on without them.

A few minutes passed by and you could hear the engines becoming significantly louder as they approached the finish line, back where you all stood. The overhead camera still focused on Jungkook as he led the group, but you could see someone quickly coming up from behind him.

You hear Jimin mumble, "Fuck Y/n, if he blocks he might actually win this."

And that he did.

The guy behind was racing aggressively, but Jungkook was able to perfectly block him each time he made an attempt to get around his car, which made for an extremely close photo finish as he sped past the checkered flag. Obviously, all the girls were now cheering even louder than before, starting to run into the street and up to Jungkook as he climbed his way out.

But that's reasonable because fuck did he look so good. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead as his bangs fell in front of his face. That large, tattooed arm of his just had to push the strands of jet-black hair back while a smirk was displayed across his face. He was winking to the girls all around him, once again playing with that damn lip ring.

Jimin pulled you with him to go congratulate Jungkook as they announced his name, but you kept yourself hidden behind his back. This just wasn't your place; you weren't friends with Jungkook, you didn't even know him. Most of their frat brothers were there, high fives and fist bumps being shared between them all, and you stood awkwardly, like you were invading their space.

"Jungkook holy fuck! You're a fucking monster out there!" Jimin laughed as the two of you had shuffled your way directly in front of Jungkook. You had been attempting to stay hidden behind Jimin, but one glance up and now you were making eye contacting with the winner himself.

God, he looked even better up close, those big brown eyes of his displaying so much joy. Maybe a hint of cockiness, too. Just slightly, though.

You, however, quickly looked away, looking anywhere but at him. But Jungkook didn't, he kept his eyes focused on you. Whatever Jimin had been saying became muffled and was going in one of his ears and out the other.

Jungkook was confused. Were you one of Jimin's friends? How had he never seen you before? He definitely would have noticed and remembered you! Were you usually at these races?

He must have zoned out and before he knew it, you and Jimin had started walking away from him as more people tried coming closer to talk to and congratulate him about the win. The girls you had observed from the beginning of the night were now wrapping their arms around him, posing for pictures to post to social media, but he didn't even bother to pay them any attention.

As the night passed by, Jungkook tried celebrating with the rest of his frat house but just couldn't get the picture of you out of his head. Who were you? He made a note to himself to question Jimin once he came back for the night.

///

a/n; it's finally here!! i'm so excited for this series and i really hope you are too!!!!! please leave feedback🤍🤍

2023; © aechawrites

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #racing #jeon jeongkook #jeongguk #college #kpop #jungkook smut #bangtan #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

[leiflitter]

More

Hello from Blighty thoughts about Saltburn

As a continuation from my reply to @armands-eyefuckery because BRAIN

Aight gang let's have a lil sit down because there is a big ol angle to the film that I think is getting missed by a lot of folks who aren't from the UK because it's a very uh...

British Thing.

IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT OLIVER IS FROM THE NORTH.

Cut because Length.

Now look. I am not going to go into Thatcher and Her Crimes, but it's worth a google. I do bring it up in You're Almost Home because...

Lots of people are saying Oliver is upper middle class, and honestly? That doesn't track for me. At all. Yes, his parents have a detached house in a nice suburb and they went on holidays, but there's a lot of Very British Context to them that I really want to point out. Also remember, it's 2006/2007. That is also important.

First of all- Oliver's parents probably never went to University.

Really listen to them. How gullible they are- they believe that Oliver can study at Oxford, and be on the rowing team, and be in plays, and be top scholar. He's always been so clever. If Oliver was anything near upper middle class, his parents would be educated professionals. Oliver probably has dockworkers not even three generations back- his dad has management vibes, but he probably worked his way up in the 70s when all you needed was a good attitude and not to be an obvious murderer.

Secondly- let's talk about the house.

As someone from Down South who has also lived Up North, Oliver's Parent's house would not have been as expensive as people think. Let's assume they bought it in the 1980s- we ALL know that house prices are through the roof NOW, but even today there is a huge gap between house prices in the south and the north. 200k down South might get you a one bedroom flat, if you're lucky. 200k in Prescot can get you a 4-bed, semi-detached HOUSE. Check rightmove.

It is also important that the house is relatively new-looking, because over here Upper Middle Class people aren't really into new build houses- if Oliver was upper middle class, he'd be living in something Victorian or Edwardian. Probably somewhere with a good link to London, especially in 2007. It also means that Oliver's parents may not have even bought it outright- my parents got on the housing ladder via a shared ownership scheme. Oliver's parents aren't rich.

Now, the holidays. Mykonos. Another fun Brit thing is the package holiday. Here's a pretty interesting article about them;

Two adults and three kids could absolutely have gone to Mykonos every year in the late 80s/90s for far less than you'd expect, especially if they paid in installments each month.

I also mentioned about Ollie being from Merseyside specifically, but again. CONTEXT. Although Oliver isn't Liverpudlian (it's important, he's from NEAR Liverpool but not Liverpool itself) the North of England as a whole has routinely been fucked over by those in power. The government AND the royals and the very wealthy. It's still ongoing today- again, another fun source.

Remember when Mr Eats-Crunchies-Sideways called him a Bootlicker? That's fucking IMPORTANT. To many folks he IS a bootlicker. He is highly unlikely to have been raised to grovel at the feet of those with hereditary titles and wealth, and honestly he doesn't. I've written before about how Oliver Denies Felix Things and how that dynamic is important. Oliver likely hasn't been raised with any real deference to The Rich (except Princess Diana).

It also effects Oliver's response to Felix, because goddamn it THATCHER again- it is HIGHLY likely that Oliver has lived through a lot of homophobia. Internalised a lot of it. Felix's parents do not give a shit, but that was not the norm. Again, tried to hit on it in YAH, because times have changed since the 90s/2000s and people change with them, but no fuckin wonder Oliver never responded to Felix chirpsing him like a maniac. He's fucking REPRESSED when he's in Oxford, pals. It also makes sense with that weird Tumblr Dom shit he pulls; he's still fuckin weird about it, he's just being In Charge so he doesn't need to be vulnerable in any way. He is only vulnerable for Felix, and even then he can't SHOW felix that, that would be gay.

Leiflitter over'n'out

#leiflitter rambles #saltburn spoilers #saltburn thoughts #incoherent as usual pals #can't take the brit outta saltburn #yah!posting

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Sometimes a Bearimy is many moons, and sometimes it's just a couple days! Do not expect this sort of pace to continue though this chapter was most of the way finished when I posted the first one.

Chapter 2 - Familiar and Forgotten

< Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Noncon kissing, Alcohol mentions, Smoking mention, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through.

~5.2k words

You don’t say much for the rest of the journey.

It’s not far, really, only an hour or two from the bridge in the woods, and your anxiety seizes you so completely that you can do little more than smile wanly at Kyle’s jokes and Johnny’s attempts to flirt with you. Ghost stays as quiet as you do, a comforting spectre of familiarity walking by your side.

The city is much like you remember it, but there’s life now, where a grim shadow hung over the people before. Windows are thrown open, laundry hangs on lines spanning between houses, brightly coloured clothes flapping in the breeze like flags. Children play in one of the alley’s you pass by, kicking a ball between them, although they stop to watch you pass, eyes growing big, collecting at the edge of the street so they can stare for longer. People begin to gather at the peripheries everywhere, the gentle roar of many hushed voices drowning out all else. It seems that the people here still recognize you, although you’re not sure if it’s by your face or the company that escorts you along.

The castle looms over the city, tall, imposing walls made a little friendlier with blue and silver banners hung from the parapets, the oppressive air lessened, but not entirely erased. You think that nothing could make the castle look truly welcoming— It never has been to you, not even when you did call it home.

Ghost looks at you as you approach the dark stone walls, and puts a big hand on your thigh. “Olright?” he asks quietly.

You nod, swallowing thickly as Nox’s claws scrape over the wooden drawbridge. It feels like the palace means to devour you whole, the shade of the main courtyard matching your somber mood. It’s greener than you remember, a raised garden bed full of flowers and a few small trees sits in the center of things now, directing traffic coming in around in a circle rather than every which way. There are gardens on the flat roofs of some of the outbuildings too, where they can catch more light despite the looming walls.

Nox stops in front of the stairs up to the main door, and Ghost lifts you down easily. When you look up, you notice there are people gathering around the main courtyard too, a gentle susurrus rising up around you like the wind. A stable hand approaches to take Kyle's horse, stumbling over his feet, too busy staring at you to watch where he's going.

"Standin' around with their gobs open," Johnny grumbles. "S'like they've ne'er seen a princess before."

Kyle thanks the stable hand when he passes the reigns to him, and offers his arm to you. "Are you ready, sweetpea?" His smile strains at the corners when you look at him. Your own face must be grim indeed.

"I'll have to be," you say, curling your hand around his arm, gathering your skirts with your other hand. You feel small and plain as you ascend on Kyle's arm, dressed simply in clothes you sewed yourself, glad you were wearing your second best skirt at least. Why that bothers you now you couldn't say-- Its not as though you're concerned with making a good impression.

Kyle leads you into the hall of judgment, where your father used to take petitions and settle disputes. It's different here too-- There are benches for supplicants to sit while they wait, and a few desks set to one side of the ante chamber, where clerks speak to citizens in hushed voices, helping speed along the process. There aren't very many people there really, it's not the tired crush of hollow eyed people clamoring for attention from a disinterested king now. Its organized, efficient, fair-minded. You can't help but approve.

John Price sits on the dais, listening to the man in front of him, but his stone-faced attention breaks when he looks up and sees you. He stands and hops down the steps, touching the man's arm. "I will send a hunting party to deal with your manticore problem," he promises. "But if you'll excuse me…" his blue eyes lock onto you, sweeping down and back up to your face.

You feel pinned in place by the intensity of those eyes, Kyle's presence by your side not enough to melt the cracking ice that settles around you.

"Princess!" John greets you enthusiastically, arms wide as he strides across the hall, meeting you in the middle. "Welcome home. I trust your journey was a pleasant one? It's a nice day for a ride through the countryside." He looks good, although there's silver in his beard and glittering by his temples that was never there before, and a plain silver circlet on his brow. He dresses the same as you remember, for comfort and practicality rather than for fashion, and he still fills out his clothes in much the same way, his broad, powerful body unchanged despite his new vocation.

"A better day for tending to the garden," you say. "But Sir Garrick rather insisted on the ride."

John smiles at you warmly, and Kyle wordlessly pulls away from you, leaving you standing before John alone. You're pulled into an embrace before you know what's happening, oak-solid arms crushing you to his chest. He pulls back enough to look at you, but he doesn't let you go. The pleasant tobacco and warm spice scent of him engulfs you, caged in his arms while he studies your upturned face. "You're more beautiful than I remember," he says. "It's good to see you."

You open your mouth to respond, but he seizes the opportunity to kiss you. Not a chaste press of lips to your cheeks, which would have been an appropriate greeting between two people of your status, but a kiss, a real one, his mouth slotting over yours like you were reuniting lovers rather than near-perfect strangers.

He kisses you for a long moment, lips moving against yours possessively, long enough for the room to grow unbearably silent around you, shame twisting with a childish flame rekindled the instant he put his hands on you. You push against his chest, and he finally comes to his senses, not releasing you or giving you more space, but at least ending the kiss, letting you breathe and sort out your conflicted feelings.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, voice low and breathless, even if you would prefer to shout it, or perhaps punctuate the question with a slap.

“Because I wanted to,” he says pleasantly, smiling in that infuriating, cheeky way he used to when he caught you watching the knights practising from the palace windows. “I think it was long overdue, don’t you?”

“No!” You don’t want to admit, considering your age, that he’s stolen your first kiss, like it was something owed to him instead of yours to give when you chose to, and you certainly don’t want to admit that you liked it. You don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the people still watching either, which is undoubtedly why he chose this as the place for your first meeting, where you would be cuffed by propriety, giving him advantage over you. Kings didn’t have to worry about propriety— Who was there to scold them for bad behaviour?

Had John ever worried about that sort of thing? Perhaps that was why your father had so militantly kept him away from you, not because of the threat to the crown, but the threat to your virtue. A man that would so casually waltz past all social convention would find no resistance from a sheltered, shy princess. Perhaps if you had been more bold— Perhaps if you were more bold now you would be able to tell him off.

“I don’t appreciate being plucked from my home and manhandled by you and your knights,” you hiss, plucking courage from thin air. You push against his chest again, and this time he lets you go, but it only makes you angrier, because you both know he only did so because he chose to. “What do you want, John? Let’s attend to business so I can leave as soon as possible.”

He glances behind you, at his knights, an eyebrow raised. “Well, you certainly aren’t going anywhere tonight, are you? We can chat properly over the evening meal.” He sweeps you along, a hand between your shoulders, where his thumb touches bare skin, toying with the edge of your shirt. “I’ll show you to your room, hm? You can wash up and change, if you’d like. Although I must say, this country mouse attire looks rather sweet on you.”

“I don’t think any of my old clothes will fit anymore,” you say tartly. You’re certainly not the weak, spindly thing you used to be, the sapling struggling to grow in your father’s shadow. Your time with Kate has done you good, made you stronger and filled out soft curves. Joy is expansive, and it takes up space that you never would have dared to occupy before.

“Of course not,” he says. “I’ve had new things made for you. Gaz’s sister reached out to Kate for your measurements.”

“Why would she— You had no right to ask for such a thing!” you say hotly. Now that you’re alone in the hallways, you feel more at ease speaking your mind.

He’s unperturbed by your anger, still smiling. “Perhaps not. But I thought it important to stand ready, should you ever decide to come home.”

“This is not my home any longer.”

John hums, his hand sliding down to your hip, tugging you closer to his side. “This will always be your home, princess,” he says matter-of-factly, like there’s no room for argument, the way he sees it.

He tries to follow you into your room, but you quickly shut the door in his face, nearly hitting him. He manages to jump clear, and you can hear his laughter on the other side. You’re getting a bit tired of these men thinking that it’s funny when you hold your ground against them, but you’re not yet sure how to get them to listen when they (and especially John) are so used to getting exactly what they want. It strikes you that you’ll probably have plenty of time to figure it out, since you don’t think you’ll be going home as soon as you'd like.

Kyle and Johnny seem like your most likely allies. And perhaps Ghost, since he told you more than he was supposed to already. Anyone else would be too worried about drawing the king’s ire and getting in trouble or losing their jobs, but those three aren’t just his knights. They’re his friends too.

And as far as you’re concerned, friends don’t let friends keep women imprisoned for indeterminate amounts of time.

You wash up, and parse through the closet for something to wear, frowning slightly at your options. There’s nothing wrong with any of the dresses you find— Everything is beautiful, elegant, well-made, in colours that suit your complexion, made of gorgeous, rustling silk. But they also all have closures at the back, long rows of delicate buttons that will be a nightmare to do up yourself. After so many years living independently, you resent the idea of someone having to help dress you. Perhaps that was why John tried to follow you, so he could be there to offer a hand.

How altruistic of him.

You fantasize about kicking him hard in the shins with the work boots that you sadly left at home, and choose a dress in a deep plum colour, getting as dressed as you can. You consider waiting to ask whoever comes to collect you for dinner, but you suspect that that might be John. You’re just about to wander out into the hallway to see if you can find a member of the castle staff to aid you, when you hear a shout outside, and laughter.

You press one hand to you chest to keep the dress from falling away from your skin inappropriately, and peer over the edge of the balcony. Johnny, Kyle and Ghost are in the courtyard below, Ghost and Kyle sitting on the fountain edge, and Johnny doing a dance that seems to be entirely hopping and kicking, while balancing a knife’s point on the tip of his finger.

“Excuse me,” you call down, smiling as prettily as you can muster. Johnny stops dancing and drops his knife entirely, but blessedly doesn’t try to catch it. “Could one of you give me a quick hand? This dress has so many buttons.”

They look at each other for a moment, and volunteer as one, Kyle and Ghost immediately falling into bickering over who should help you. Johnny looks at the ground and up to you a few times rather than fight with the others, and takes a running leap, fingers catching on the balcony floor. He swings a few times before popping up, catching the railing and clambering over with surprising grace. “I would be happy to help ye, sweetpea. An’ Ah’m sorry abou’, er, lickin’ yer wrist earlier. Was a wolf awl mornin’, cannae always shake the compulsion straight after a shift.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, reaching up with both hands and scratching the stubble under his chin gently. He leans into your palms with a groan, letting you guide him down to your level so you can kiss the tip of his nose. “I know you’re a good boy, Johnny. You were just excited.”

“I was,” he admits, cheeks turning a little pink. “They awl met ye before, and they talk about ye sometimes, ye ken? An’ yer even nicer an’ bonnier up close. Ah’m glad I didna try to lick yer face. Ye didnae look very happy with Price doin’ it.”

“He was very forward. It’s not the sort of thing I appreciate. I don’t intend to let him walk all over me just because he’s the king now.” You release Johnny’s jaw and turn so he can get to work on the buttons, pulling your braids out of the way over your shoulder. “It seems like he’s a little too used to getting his way.”

“Ah, weel, he’s stubborn as awl hell, sweetpea. No’ really his fault, he’s just righ’ more of’en than no’, ye ken? An’ when yer never wrong, ye never learn ta compromise.”

“Surely he’s not always right,” you say. “No one’s infallible.”

He laughs, fingers stalling against your back. “Yer righ’ of course. But Ah’m never the one to catch the old man bein’ wrong. So I dinnae ken if he admits it. I would be surprised.”

“Do you know what he wants from me?” you ask. “It seems odd that he let me live in peace all these years, only to drag me back now.”

“I dinnae ken awl the details, princess. Figure it’s sommat ta do with yer cousin raisin’ an army over across the western border, aye? Probably wants ye to scold the wee rascal for him.” He continues buttoning, and then stalls again. “Aw shite. Missed one.” You feel him begin to undo the buttons he was just working on.

You press your fingers to your mouth to stifle a giggle. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Shouldn’t be asking so many questions.”

“Aw no, I dinnae mind none. S’nice ta talk ta ye. Always thought princesses’d be all stuck up and snooty. But yer no’ at awl. Ahve been ta yer story hour at the market once or twice too. Think it’s nice ye take pity on us buggers that cannae read well. An ye choose good stories.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you say.

“Usually go in on four legs. No one minds another mangy dog, so long as I don’t get too close or growl at the bairns. Can hear better tha’ way too, aye? Blacksmith always let me lay down beside his shop.” He marches two fingers across your shoulder playfully. “Awl done.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” You turn to look at him again, regarding him thoughtfully. It doesn’t take much to turn him from a large, dangerous man to an eager to please puppy. Something to tuck into your pocket for later.

“Ye can call me Soap, if ye like. The lads do, most of the time. An’ the boss man. But Johnny is good too. Like hearin’ it from ye.” He looks a bit bashful, twisting his fingers together absently now that he has nothing else to fuss with, bright blue eyes cast down and half hidden by his long, dark lashes. “Ah ken it’s no’ what yer hopin’ for, but I hope ye stay a while. S’nice. Feels like there’s an empty space around here, and ye’d fill it an’ then some.”

“I’ll think about it,” you say. “I’m sure it mostly depends on how angry your, um, boss man makes me.”

“He’s no’ a bad sort.” Johnny instantly leaps to John’s defense, a touch of anxiety colouring his voice. He wears every emotion on his sleeve, another useful something to know. “Been good ta me, when lot’s of folk think I’m no’ much more’n a monster.”

“I’ve never heard of a werewolf that can shift at will like you do,” you muse. “You must have remarkable self control.”

Something dark flits across his face, but he does his best to hide it behind his crooked grin. “Naw, no’ really. S’a story, but no’ one I want ta tell righ’ now.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him gently, placing your hand on top of his. His knuckles are rough, scarred from a lifetime of hitting things hard. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I’ll listen, if you do want to talk.”

“Yer goan ta turn me intae a big softie at this rate,” he says, waving off your words with a laugh. “Come oan, Sweetpea. I’ll walk ye ta dinner. Figure ye know the way, but Ah’m told it’s polite to escort a lady.”

“Very polite,” you assure him, placing your hand on his offered arm. “Thank you, Johnny.”

His grin is infectious, and he puffs up his chest slightly, pleased as punch to receive your approval. You descend the stairs, picking up your skirts with your other hand so they don’t drag, and John appears at the bottom of the steps, his expression turning carefully, diplomatically blank when he sees you on Johnny’s arm.

“Perfect timing,” he says. “I was just about to come get you. Thank you, Soap, I can take her from here.”

“How very kind!” you return, gripping a little tighter to Johnny’s arm so he doesn’t run off just yet. “Johnny was nice enough to help me with my dress. All these buttons— I had no idea that button closures were the style these days.”

John’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit, like he’s not sure if you’re being earnest or not. “Nor did I,” he says evenly. Liar.

“It can be so hard to keep track of these things.” You send Johnny another bright smile. “Will you be joining us?” you ask sweetly.

Johnny looks at John uneasily. “Oh, n-no, I dinnae think—”

You curl into him slightly, placing your hand on his chest, drawing his attention back to you and away from the disapproving frown that’s beginning to form on John’s face. “Oh, nonsense. In fact, would you mind fetching Kyle and Ghost as well? We all had such a pleasant afternoon, and I feel like we’ve only just begun catching up.”

Johnny’s fingers catch on the lace hemming your trailing sleeve, his cheeks pink and eyes focused on your face. “Oh, aye, anything ye like, princess.”

“Thank you so much Johnny. You have been so helpful today. I really appreciate it.” You release him, and he dashes off without a second thought or glance to John for approval. “What a sweet boy he is,” you say to John as you flit to his side, all innocence, well aware that Johnny can still hear you. “Shall we?”

John gives you a searching look, still not certain if you’ve disrupted his plans on purpose or just by being far too sweet. “I had intended for dinner to be just the two of us.”

“Now John, that would hardly be appropriate,” you lightly scold. “The two of us, alone without a chaperone? What would people say? If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to put me in a compromising position.”

His lips twitch under his moustache, the ghost of a smile appearing in his eyes. “Perish the thought. Didn’t think of the implication, is all.” He opens the door to what had once been your father’s private dining room, but hesitates in the doorway. “Perhaps we should wait for the lads,” he says thoughtfully. “Since you’re concerned with the optics of being alone with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. “They’ll be along in a moment, no? I’m not sure what you think could happen in a few minutes, but I’m sure you’re capable of behaving yourself for that long.” You sweep past him, unconcerned, and he follows, letting the door fall shut behind him, the latch clicking shut loudly in the otherwise silent room. You cast about for a conversation that you can fling up between the two of you like a flimsy shield, your tongue suddenly heavy again. John has a way of sucking up all the air in a room, and he feels nearly as large and imposing as Ghost in a confined space like this. You don’t feel safe like you would with Ghost. You feel like a wobbly-legged fawn caged in with a blue-eyed wolf.

And you would feel less like that if you were in here with the man who really is a blue-eyed wolf. You don’t think the man standing before you will melt with a few kind words or a soft touch. He’ll only take it as permission to push you further.

“Your inexperience is showing,” John says conversationally, taking a step toward you.

You take a hasty step back. “How so?”

He takes another step forward. You take another back. The pattern repeats until he has you backed up against the mantle. “A lot can happen in just a few minutes, sweetpea.” His thick fingers curl around your jaw, forcing you to face him when all you want to do is sink into the floor or vanish entirely. “Could do anything I liked to you, alone like this. You’re right to be cautious.” His hand slides lower, callouses brushing your skin, raising goosebumps along the back of your neck and prickling all the way down your spine. His palm rests on your throat, so he can measure the nervous flutter of your pulse. You swallow nervously, and you know he can feel it.

Still, he doesn’t squeeze, and there’s no threat in his eyes. Worse, there’s a promise, and heat that could spark into a blaze with the slightest provocation.

“It’s a good thing you’re a man of honour, then.” You mean it as a challenge, a reminder of the rules of engagement. You came prepared for a game of chess, and he’s knocked all the pieces onto the floor and lunged at you across the board. Your words come out whisper soft, plaintive instead of confident.

“A good thing indeed.” He takes a step back, and then another, his hand falling away, leaving you standing by the mantle, clinging to it for support.

It was a good thing the fireplace is cold, this time of year, or you might be tempted to throw yourself in just to save yourself the embarrassment of being so completely set off balance.

“Here.” John returns to your side, this time leaving enough space for you to breathe, and offers you a glass of wine. White wine, like he remembers your preferences somehow. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, and you try not to shake from the force of whatever it is that he stirs up in you.

It’s too vast to identify, and threatens to engulf you, swallow you whole. It’s an ocean, as deep and blue as his eyes, and you’re already struggling to stay afloat. You feel like the only things keeping you from drowning are your righteous anger and sense of self-preservation. But recognizing the danger he poses to you, to your freedom, if not your life, doesn’t pluck you from the water or save you from the circling shark. You don’t know how to do that. You’re not sure if you want to.

“I should apologize,” he says gently. “For greeting you the way I did earlier. I’d dreamt of our reunion so many times that it felt like the most natural thing in the world, kissing you like that. I should have better kept myself in check.”

You sip your wine. It’s sharp and not too sweet, just the sort of thing you used to like, and many times better than what you’ve had for years now. But the taste only reminds you of things best left forgotten, sour remnants of a life you wished to leave behind. Even this room, redecorated to another man’s preferences, feels as oppressive as your father’s presence in life.

Maybe it’s the weight of the crown, that bends and twists even the most upright men, because you already see the makings of a tyrant in John. So used to getting his way already, he expects you to fall into line, do as your told, take your rightful place at his side, on his arm.

In his bed.

“Are you going to?” you ask.

He’s confused by that, a frown settling between his brows. “Going to what, sweetpea?”

“Apologize. Saying you should apologize is not the same as actually being sorry.”

He’s entirely taken aback by that, rendered speechless. It’s probably been years since anyone checked him like that, and it sends a bit of a thrill through you to be the one to do so. He has the advantage in this battle you’ve waged against him— He’s larger and stronger, he claims authority that you’ve rejected, he has allies where you have none— but you’ve still managed to strike a blow, with honesty as your only weapon.

The other three men finally join you, snapping the tension in the room, clearing it away like cobwebs.

Well, most of the tension, anyway. You sit between John and Ghost, rather than take the chair opposite John. You have no desire to be forced to bear that heavy stare for the entire meal. Kyle and Johnny sit opposite you, and you maintain light conversation with the two of them. Ghost sits to your right, his mask tipped up enough for him to eat, his scarred mouth and jaw visible to you for the first time. His gloves are off too, revealing broad, powerful hands littered with fine scars, and a few deep ones too. Most of them are obviously blade wounds, but there’s a particularly deep one, a chunk of missing flesh between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand that keeps drawing your eyes back.

“Me’n Nox ‘ad a misunderstandin’ when we first met,” he says, unprompted, noticing your glances. “She took a chunk outta me. Was a good thing she was still small, or I’d’ve lost my whole ‘and.”

“Small!” Johnny says with a snort. “The wee beastie was bigger than me!”

“You were a runt,” Ghost chuckles, “but I s’pose she was still plenty big. Got ‘er talons sunk pretty deep in my thigh too. Got ‘er to listen to reason in the end though. She din’t know I was tryin’ to ‘elp.”

You see that same darkness in Johnny’s eyes as earlier, so you change the subject, asking about a burn on Ghost’s wrist. He starts in on a tale of hunting an outlaw mage, with plenty of interjections from Kyle, and then Johnny as well, until he gives up trying to tell it, and lets the younger men take over.

You feel his attention on you for a while after that, like he knew what you did and why.

John is pensive, still ruminating on what you said, quiet over the meal. It must not be that great a change from usual, because it doesn’t seem to bother the other three in the least. He insists on walking you to your room once the hour grows later, however, and leans against your door frame.

“You’re right,” he says, catching your hand so you can’t go inside and shut the door in his face for a second time that day. “I didn’t apologize. And I’m not sorry. I know I should be, and I won’t do it again, but I can’t say I feel all that badly about it.”

It’s something, at least. A concession, if not an apology. “Thank you, John.” He doesn’t let go of your hand, and his thumb is rubbing distracting circles over your knuckles. “Is there something else?”

“We never talked business.”

“No. But I know what you want, John, and the answer is no. I want to go home, I have a life to return to, and I don’t belong here any longer.” The disappointment is clear on his face, but he only nods. You continue, encouraged by his silence. “I will, however, make a public statement of support, in whatever way you need. I imagine my cousin will wish to send a witness, to ensure I’m not being coerced. I will stay until then, and then you will allow me to go home. Is that sufficient?”

He thinks about it for a moment, his thumb tapping against your hand now. “I suppose it will have to be.”

“Then it’s settled. Goodnight, John.” You try to pull your hand free, but he tightens his grip just enough to keep you anchored to him.

“Wait.” He tugs you a step closer. “May I kiss you?”

You roll his request around in your mind for a moment. He’s willing to accept that you won’t marry him, without so much as a fight. You can’t deny that you want to say yes either, and you have just enough wine in you to make you bold, but not reckless. “One kiss,” you reply. “No more than that. And then I am going to bed.”

He cups your face and stoops to meet you, pressing his lips to yours tenderly, without any of the brash possessiveness of earlier. Just sweet and slow, coaxing you to open up for him. You relax into his touch, parting your lips, a soft little whine escaping your throat, pulling an answering groan from him as he licks into your mouth. You have to grip his wrists just to stay upright, the sound turns your knees and resolve to jelly, the taste of good whiskey and smoke from his after dinner cigar lingering on your tongue as he pulls away.

His eyes are fever-bright, and his breathing ragged as you release each other. “Goodnight, sweetpea,” he says softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You slip into your room and lean against the door, knees still weak, desire simmering inside you. The kiss had been a bad idea, because all you can think of now is asking for another, and another, and another.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Divider by CafeKitsune

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem reader #141 x reader #heavy weighs the crown #Uh oh sweetpea

[badaziraphaletakes]

can you please stop? screenshotting someone else’s post is extremely rude and only makes the fandom a worse place. talk about a bad take you saw, describe how it’s harmful, and vague all you want, but don’t screenshot. i agree that most of these takes are awful but that’s no excuse to do this to people. either confront the person who’s take you don’t like or make your own post. stop screenshotting, please.

Either confront the person who’s take you don’t like or make your own post.

The assumption that I didn’t try that is where you went wrong. I (mod X) started this blog only after I tried many, many times to confront people about their offensive takes directly and it didn’t work. I was subjected to appalling harassment and even bigotry. That’s what happens when you try to engage with someone who’s being offensive.

I had been throwing the idea around for weeks and what finally decided me on starting it was that I found out that I wasn't alone. That the anti-Autistic bias and the ableism and the transphobia and the victim-blaming and the misogyny (and on and on and on) that we kept seeing and being subjected to was ruining our enjoyment of this show. This was bigger than just me.

FTR, most of the takes that are submitted to us (note that I'll be switching between "I" and "we" in this reply depending on the context) don’t have a handle attached to them, but of the few that do include a handle, 99% of the time I have recognized it as someone who I have seen being so bigoted that there was no possible way I could engage with them. We don't confront people directly partly because we don't want to direct people who disagree back to the OP's blog, and partly to keep the mods safe.

You say “do this to people” like this blog is committing some kind of outrage, which is absurd. We are, at worst, being slightly rude (which I think is justified considering sarcasm and humor are one of the only weapons we have to fight back against hate), whereas most of the posts we comment on are outright hateful. They’re the ones “doing this to people”.

We are being far more considerate of the writers’ feelings and their dignity than they ever were of other people’s in the fandom. The takes are not just ‘awful’ (although, that too haha); they are actively harming vulnerable members of the fandom, and, more concerningly, are spreading messages that will poison our views on how we should treat Autistic people, ab*se survivors, and the like in broader society. Quite frankly, the people who are spouting the kind of anti-Autistic/ableist/victim-blaming/otherwise bigoted crap that forms the bulk of the content we feature here deserve to have their posts screenshotted. People who say things like that do not deserve to be handled with kid gloves in response.

(Also I don’t have time to re-type and slightly paraphrase every bad take I see. And if I did, people would throw out “no one is really saying this”. And even if it weren’t for that, I don’t think it’s reasonable or appropriate to expect me to use my time that way.)

Incidentally, nothing is stopping people from messaging/asking us or commenting if they recognize a post as their own, but only one person has ever done that, asking if a post was theirs. I replied that it was, leaving the ball in their court. So far we haven’t heard back from them about the matter, which is fine. But I digress.

As for this blog making the fandom a worse place - even though it’s only a few weeks old, I’ve had an average of two new people a day, every day, tell me how grateful they are I created it and how it makes them feel safe and how it’s the only reason they haven’t left the fandom. I’ve even had multiple people say “I was going to leave the fandom because of that specific post and then your blog called it out and I felt like I wasn’t alone”. So yeah, I'd say screenshotting is important here.

There is a subset of the fandom - many of us Autistic, Disabled, ab*se survivors, GNC, trans, and/or otherwise oppressed - who have been made to feel EXTRAORDINARILY unsafe by the Aziraphale hate (which far, far too often is thinly-veiled hate for some of the aforementioned groups of people) and the truly scary way people double down when we push back against it. So I don’t care if people are annoyed by my sharing a screenshot of their post. Not when this blog has become a safe space for so many people who otherwise would have had Good Omens ruined for them by the bigotry and general hatefulness we keep seeing.

LSS I will not stop building this tiny lil corner of the internet that is the only part of the fandom where many of us feel safe.

I actually made a post addressing almost this exact thing a couple weeks ago; if I can find it, I’ll add it here in a rb.

#good omens #goodomens #good omens 2 #badaziraphaletakes #goodomens2

[ghostlychief]

Star Pupil

Request: Hello!!! Hope you have an amazing birthday. Can I please request a Ghost x fem!reader where Ghost is training a bunch of rookies, but they dont really take training seriously. Like ik it sounds very unrealistic as the battleground is very dangerous but yk- so like theese recruits are like, not trying or just rolling their eyes behind Ghosts back(ofc he notices) but reader catches Ghosts eyes bc she is the only one who is actually trying(and the only female among them) and taking the training seriously and he sometimes sees her training in her free time. Just wnated to know how he would react about this :33Feel free to ignore, and also HAPPY BIRTHDAY ONCE AGAIN <3

AN: HELLO this is so much later than when you requested (sorry lol) but i hope you enjoy what i threw together <33333 THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!! hope you take care hon, and thanks for the birthday wishes when you originally sent this in!!!!! - Lee

--

Oneshot: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

warnings: none, cursing? it’s really just fluff

summary: you are a new recruit for the organization that squad force 141 is under. what happens when you are seemingly the only recruit that takes her training seriously, but also develops a crush on your instructor?

wc: 1.4k+ (this really turned into a whole thing huh)

enjoy!!!!

--

Ghost should have known that a class of new recruits would be difficult to teach.

Hell, all of them were male, expect for one person who was a woman. The fact that the class was 99% male didn’t surprise him when the first day of teaching went to complete shit.

No one was listening to his instructions and he didn’t even know how most of these men qualified to even be here, training under him. They were unruly, constantly talking when he was giving instructions and in even some instances, they would mock and roll their eyes at Ghost when his back was turned.

The recruits were just lucky he didn’t see them mocking him, otherwise it would be a completely different story, and all those who participated would be packing their bags to go home.

It was a blow to his ego.

Did they not know what a unique opportunity this was? To be training with a member of the infamous squad 141?

141 was the best in the game, the best team out there to accomplish complex covert mission after mission. No one else had the skill set or the discipline to be as good as they are.

So, why the fuck was the next generation of the organization being such dipshits?

Much not to Ghost’s surprise, the sole recruit that was taking training seriously was the woman recruit.

After the first week, Ghost found himself looking up your file, wanting to know more about his star pupil. He figured you were around the same age as the other recruits, but it turned out that you were around his age, although a few years younger. You also had some field work under your belt. That must be why she seems so much more competent that her peers, Ghost thinks.

Before you were recruited to squad 141, you spent your late teens and early twenties going to a prestigious military school, specializing in military strategy and combat. Afterwards you joined an organization specializing in oversee operations. You also had a special skill in archery and close quarters combat, specifically knife play.

He was impressed to say the least.

He also couldn’t ignore the fact that he thought you were pretty. His teammates teased him relentlessly when they saw him, catching onto his schoolboy crush.

“Hey Ghost, how’s your star pupil?”

“Do you make all the other recruits run more laps than her?”

All of these stupid questions came with a smirk and at least one laugh from another team member. Ghost kept his cool though, he didn’t want to give them any more ammo to hit him with. Somehow these bastards found out I have a crush on her, bloody hell.

He didn’t even think he was being that obvious. However, when sifting through his memories, he realized he did talk about you a lot, especially after a drink or two. But who could blame him? You were at the top of your class, and outshone your pupils so easily. It was hard not to brag about you to 141.

You impressed him further when he spotted you training by yourself, during your precious free time. Typically, new recruits had a rigorous schedule, so any free time granted was special, not the be taken for granted. Most people took naps, drank, or simply lazed around with their friends during this time. However, you continued to amaze him at your dedication to be the best at your job.

He figured out your schedule so sometimes he would find himself trailing behind you (without your knowledge of course), and watch some of your solo training sessions. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, he just wanted to see what you focused on when you trained alone.

The next time he had training with your cohort, he found himself giving you specific pointers based on what he saw during your unaided training sessions.

As astounded he was by you, he never deliberately approached you, never singled you out. Apart from his tips here and there, he treated you like all the other recruits. Although he harbored a burrowing, yet growing crush for you, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

--

Sooner than later your graduation came. Now you were no longer a measly recruit but a major, you were someone with ranks. You were proud to say the least, and little did you know, your instructor was just as proud, maybe even more so than yourself.

When you were on the way back to your dorms, you noticed Ghost leaning against the door to the hallway. You tried to suppress the warmness that threatened to spread onto your cheeks, so you looked down, hoping he doesn’t notice you.

All throughout your training you tried your best not to make it apparent about the crush you had on Ghost. You really tried your hardest to solely focus on the task at hand; which was, training. Sometimes, to distract yourself even further from him, you would spend your free time alone, training even more. The exercise helped quell your racing heart and aching bones that longed for a certain 6’4 lieutenant.

The enigma behind him was all the more intriguing. You could only see half his face, who wouldn’t be interested to learn more? You were dying to know what he looking like with his balaclava removed. You wondered if he had a mustache, or any facial hair for that matter that was hidden by the mask.

Did he have dimples? A freckle or two on his chin, near his mouth? What did his lips look like? Were they thin, thick? You just had so many questions sparked by your new found crush on him.

You were shocked and a little frazzled when your tactic didn’t work, because right as you’re about to past Ghost, he gingerly places a hand on your bicep, and says your name.

Now that you think about it, this was the first time he called you by your name, all other times he referred to you as Recruit 139.

For a man who’s skilled in killing people, he had such a gentle hold on you, not at all imposing. Your heartbeat picked up and when you glanced up at him, it raced even more.

“Hm? Oh, hi Lieutenant.” You slightly bowed even though his hand was still on you, the warmth sizzling through your shirt and seemingly marking your skin.

Before he could get a word in edge wise, you said hurriedly, “I just want to say thank you for being such a great instructor. You really motivated me to perform my best and try my hardest. So, again thank you.”

You found yourself slightly bowing again. Why do I keep doing that?

Too caught up in your own embarrassment of being around Ghost, you failed to notice the curve of his lips upturn under his balaclava, obviously endeared by you.

He removes his hand from your arm, and says, “No need to thank me, I mean you practically did all the work yourself. You were clearly more driven than your peers, along with all those training sessions you did during your free time-

“Wait what?”

When you look back up at Ghost you see that his eyes have widened. “How do you know I train by myself?”

Ghost lets out a chuckle in the form of a sigh, “I just saw you by accident a few times, wasn’t stalking or anything.” He holds up his hands as if to confirm.

“Ah, is that why you gave me suspiciously specific pointers during training sessions? I thought you were reading my mind!”

This time he grants you a full laugh, “No, no minding reading here.”

He takes a step towards you, and you automatically take a half step back, not used to being so close to the lieutenant.

“Anyways, what I wanted to originally ask you was, do you want to go out for celebratory drinks? You are my star pupil after all. Well, no longer a pupil, but a colleague.”

You tried to hide your awe. Is he really asking me to go get drinks?

You’re about to reject, when you realize that this is your chance and like he said, you are no longer a student of his, but rather a colleague.

You pretend to ponder his request, bringing a finger to rub your chin and grant him a sweet smile. “Hmm, are first rounds on you?”

Though, he sees right through your act.

You hear him cough, as if suppress another laugh, and then he says, “Of course. That would just be rude if it wasn’t, hm?”

Your smile widens, and Ghost thinks he may pass out, “You’re damn right.”

--

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

#simon riley #Simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #mw2 ghost #mw2 ghost x you #mw2 ghost x reader #mw2 ghost fanfic #cod ghost x you #cod ghost #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost imagine #cod ghost fanfic #mw2 ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley request #simon ghost riley request #mw2 ghost request #cod ghost request #fluff #cod ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #mw2 ghost fluff

[luvrxbunny]

hi, im loving your work and i'm not sure if this is like where your at cause it's just regular old eddie but i was wondering if you'd write something like reader and eddie are both really into each other but haven't said anything and she knows how into d&d he is so she makes on of his campaigns into a comic but shes been so busy she unintentionally pulls away and eddies worried she finally "woke up" and realized hes a freak. maybe something like she's from new york banished to her aunts in hawkins aunts cause she has to repeat senior year again and eddie immediately is like wow. but happy ending obviously, maybe some smut if the spirit moves you. i hope this isnt too specific i know your last request was more vague but i had the idea and thought it'd be cute, if your not into it though that's fine i figure it never hurts to ask right 😘

hi! thank you for requesting! there actually isn't smut in this one but if you'd like some you can request a part 2 kinda thing!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie feels you pulling away and assumes the worst.

Warnings: smoking (weed), misunderstandings and emotions (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 6.9k

A/N: idfk this might be word vomit- i tried please have mercy

Eddie was the first friend you made here in Hawkins after being abandoned by your family. The sting of failing your senior year was enough, but the pain of your family being too embarrassed to house you anymore made it even worse. You had to watch all summer as all your other friends packed up for college while you were packing to be sent away. You were forced to go live with your aunt, which wasn’t the worst situation you could’ve ended in. 

She’s nice to you, understanding. She doesn’t believe in traditional schooling, she says it’s ‘no wonder’ that you failed. She claims ‘You’re a special girl with the mind of an artist’ and ‘schools aren’t built for people like you two’. You love her, you just can’t stand some of her habits. 

She lives a very hippie lifestyle. She forces you to walk to school, even on the first day, saying it was good for your mental health but all it did was make you incredibly sweaty for your first day. Although it ended up working out for the best. 

You arrived panting and sweaty from your rush over. She hadn’t told you the night before that you’d be walking so you didn’t wake up early enough. You could not stand being late to first period, not wanting to deal with the entire class watching you find a seat. So you had to haul ass to school. You had planned out an incredibly cute outfit that was now ruffled, mussed, and damp with sweat. You wanted to cry as you sat down in the back left corner of the classroom, getting a nice view of the field beside the school, the trees and flowers that live there. You’re huffing and puffing, your breathing all out of order from you trying to regulate it as students pour in. You watched as the cliques formed themselves, having been established in the previous years. You took out a notebook and buried yourself in it, hoping no one would approach you. 

The other students settled down and the teacher began her orientation. You aren’t listening as she speaks, watching the rain that's pattering gently on the classroom window. She was going on about the syllabus, informing you of the incredibly boring things you’d be learning in her class when he burst through. Opening the door with so much force that it slammed on the wall behind it, he was huffing and puffing, nearly soaked in rain with a bag loosely thrown over his shoulder. The thing about him that stuck with you though, was the blinding, dimpled, smile that was on his face. Despite being drenched, late, and the current center of attention, he had the largest smile you had seen all day. It was so genuine that you were smiling along with him without even realizing it. 

“Mr. Munson. I see you’re in my class again…” She spat the words at him so venomously you expected to see his smile drop, falter at least but it widened instead. 

“I am! Yes. I am! And I’d like to focus more on what that says about my… my determination, rather than what I may lack in this particular subject.” Again? Maybe he’s a repeat like me?

Something about the thought made you feel a bit fond of him. 

“Mhm. That’s nice. Have a seat.” She continued to drone on as he looked around for a seat, his eyes widened at you, seeing you already smiling and staring at him. This snapped you out of your trance and you tried desperately to avoid his gaze, pretending like you hadn’t been watching him since he came in. 

He decided to sit next to you and you guys hit it off instantly, later finding that you had almost every class together. You felt so lucky, he was so, so kind. He spent your first two periods and lunch together. He introduced you to his friends, let you know the special ins and outs of the school, and even offered you a ride when he found out your aunt was leaving you hanging. He told you that you’d have to wait with him after school because apparently, he ran a club called “Hellfire”. 

Honestly, in the period after lunch, without him, you questioned if this was the kind of person you should align yourself with. In the next period, with him, when you walked in the door he waved you over and moved the backpack that was on the desk next to him. “Hey! I saved you a seat.” He had that shining, dimpled, smile again and you decided it didn’t matter what kind of person he was. He was kind to you and that’s what mattered. 

You learned a lot about him and you feel like that’s when you started falling in love with him. 

He told you about his struggles with his family, and why he lived with his uncle. He told you about his childhood and got a little teary-eyed, although he still kept his butterfly-inducing smile. 

He told you about his struggles with this town and warned you that you may be subject to ridicule by befriending him. That was the only time his smile fully dropped, he got this kicked puppy look in his eyes as he lied to you, telling you that ‘he’d understand.’ or that ‘you don’t need to feel bad’. You told him you’re not afraid of some small-town hicks. 

He apologized to you at the end of the class, saying it must’ve been awkward to listen to him blubber about his life all class but you, stars in your eyes and in love, adamantly assured him that you didn’t mind. 

You ended up loving his club, the planning, the theatrics, and the suspense, were unbelievable. You were engaged the whole time, obsessed with how Eddie told his story, and invested in the team and their survival. You told Eddie about how cool you thought it was the whole ride home. By the end of the ride, you were apologizing profusely for how much you had talked about it but he, red in the face and flustered, adamantly assured you that he didn’t mind. 

You guys have been almost inseparable since. It’s been about seven months here at Hawkins now and your little crush has snowballed into a bit of a colossal crush on Eddie. Nowadays, your Hellfire visits are filled with you just watching him. You don’t pay attention to the plot, to how the characters are doing, or anything… just him.

 It’s getting a bit embarrassing in fact, because you’ll have fewer things to say on the ride to your house than you usually do and he’s begun to question it, asking if you thought he needed to work on anything and not believing you when you say that ‘he doesn’t need to change anything’ or that ‘it was so perfect you have no notes.’

A secondary reason you’ve started staring at him more is because you’ve been working on something for him; a way for you to confess how you feel about him in a way that you hope he’d like. You’re completely unsure of how he may feel about you. You’ve noticed a few things… the way he’ll save a seat and always give it to you, no matter who arrived before you, how he seemed to be somewhat softer with you than he is with everyone else, but you chalked it up to hopeful thinking. 

You were trying to make a comic of the first time he invited you to Hellfire. You can remember it almost perfectly and for anything you don’t remember you can just refer to your journal. You’d written all about it after you got home. 

You’ve been spending most of your time in the art room now, trying your absolute best to make it the most professional-looking, homemade comic anyone had ever seen. You think about the smile that Eddie would wear, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you at least hope he appreciates the art. 

You’ve gathered help from a lot of unsuspecting people. You found out that quite a few girls on the cheerleading team are a great help when it comes to designing the outfits. They’ve started to meet you in the art room at lunch to help with the comic, slightly invested in the plot even though you’ve explained multiple times that it’s technically Eddie’s plot. They’ve also become quite interested in your love life, knowing that it’s for Eddie. They actually root for the two of you, they were all much nicer than you expected them to be. 

You’ve started to miss a few club meetings as well. To be fair though, you aren’t technically part of the club. Eddie explained that since you don’t play you’re technically just a consistent bystander. It had hurt your feelings at first, feeling left out of the group but now it’s just convenient. You don’t have to tell Eddie in advance that you aren’t going and you don’t need to tell him why. You always go to the art room instead to work on your comic. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the cheerleaders join you after practice to help you work some more. You started to fall behind in school work, not paying attention to anyone or anything in class in favor of working on your comic instead. This little picture book has consumed your entire life for a few weeks. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was suffering the whole time.

He noticed it when it first started. At lunch one day, instead of eating and engaging in the conversation you kept opening your notebook and doodling little things he couldn’t see. He kept having to get your attention and re-explain everything that was happening whenever he tried to include you in the conversation. Eventually, you just told him, with a soft laugh, that you’re not listening. You giggled and went back to your doodling, not even realizing that what they had been talking about, was the idea of you joining Hellfire officially, even if you don’t play. Your disinterest almost broke Eddie’s heart, it hurt a lot actually but he reasoned with himself. 

Maybe she just doesn’t want all the heat, and bullying that comes with being a part of Hellfire. She’s soft, she just doesn’t want to say that right now, in front of the whole table. She’s so cute… She’ll tell me why, later.

You never did. You never explained to him why you cared so little about being in a club he cared so much about. 

You began to pull away more and more after that. He would plan campaigns with you in mind, creating twists and turns he knows you’d love, imagining the look on your face and the excitement in your voice when you’d tell him about it on the ride home. However, you started telling him you couldn’t make it to Hellfire. You never gave him an explanation and he never asked for one, you guys are just friends… he has no right. 

A little piece of his heart would chip away every time you canceled on him, breaking even more whenever he had to receive pitiful stares from everyone else when they noticed characters in the campaign that were so obviously you-coded. The confused looks from every member whenever they asked where you were, only to be met with a sad shrug, became a bit too much for him. He was still giving you a ride home, you’d arrive at the end of Hellfire with a shy smile on your face for it every day so you had to be staying somewhere at school. He was determined to find you. 

He ended Hellfire early one day and set on his quest to find you. He knows you love to read so the library was the first place he checked, only to find the doors locked. His next stop was the art room, stopping to peep inside the cafeteria on his way over and shaking his head sadly when you weren’t there. At this point, he’s sure that you’re in the art room, but what confuses him is that he can hear girly, popular, giggling coming from the very room that you must be in. He rushes over in a half-sprint, thinking that some girls were picking on you but when he gets to the door he can see you laughing along with them as you doodle on something. 

“I mean he’s… cute..” Chrissy Cunningham says to Eddie’s intense confusion. Who are they talking about..? What is she doing with Chrissy Cunningham? The other cheerleaders burst into a smaller fit of laughter at her words. 

“I think he’s cute!” You say and Eddie’s heart sinks at your words. Who? He waits there for a while but you guys never give specifics. He watches the cheerleaders giggle and tease you about your mystery crush. He only witnesses the way you fiddle with your pencil with the biggest smile he’s seen all day splitting your face. It hurts him to see you so happy over someone else, he watches you as a dark, numb, pain spreads inside his chest before walking away with tears in his eyes. His hands were in his pockets, shoulders hunched defeatedly as he heard you girls cheering behind him.

When you came for your ride he wasn’t in the Hellfire classroom waiting for you, instead, he was leaning on his van smoking. He never smoked around you, not cigs at least. You had explained your many bad memories with men who smoked and how it caused you to just despise the smell, that it even caused you a bit of anxiety before you even knew that he smoked. 

Out of kindness, Eddie just avoided smoking around you all together, but right now he was stressed, hurt, and on the verge of a breakdown and a cigarette was the only thing that could keep him from that. 

He didn’t care too much if you minded, you’d already decided you didn’t want to be around him anymore, choosing to hang out with the cheerleaders instead, letting them coax you over to the dark side from right under his nose. He should’ve held onto you tighter, he should’ve known they’d try and snatch you. You were so beautiful, and you’d be so popular under their watch but they’d also corrupt you, turn you into them, murdering the sweet, caring, and loving girl you were. The thought broke his heart, hence the cigarette in between his fingers when you approached him for your ride.

“Hey, Eddie! I was starting to think you left me!” You say with an adorable giggle that he wishes he could smile at. He blows smoke up into the air, avoiding your face, and puts it out. 

“Yeah. I was actually thinking the exact same thing.” He says with a humorless laugh that shocks you. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay when he gets in and starts the van. You rushed over to your side to get in before he drove off in silence. This is when you’d ask him about Hellfire and he’d give you the outline of what happened, but this time when you ask, he responds with “Same old, same old.”

You never thought you craved his voice as much as you do now. The drive is longer, some strange traffic blocking the way and the silence in the van gets to be too much for you. 

Forget about wrapping. 

“Eddie?” He hums at you, letting you know he heard you but doesn't turn to look at you. His eyes stay on the packed, unmoving road. “I- I made you something.”

His head turns to you so fast you can almost hear it crack. “You made me something?” The shock in his voice is surprising. It’s like he never, ever, had even considered that with all your artistic talent, you’d want to make him something. You have all of his attention now. 

“Yeah…” You reach into your bag and pull it out gently while Eddie gets off the road, pulling into a parking lot. “I- Well, I was going to wrap it but I’ll just give it to you now. I- I hope you like it…”

He’s smiling at you as you rummage through your backpack gently for whatever you have for him. He tried not to get too excited but he couldn’t help himself… 

“I’ll love it, sweetheart.” His heart is swelling at the idea of receiving a gift from you. That means at some point, somewhere you had seen something and thought of him, you thought of him so much that you just had to buy that item and you planned on gift wrapping it for him. 

Maybe it's a goodbye present. Fuck- be cool. 

Eddie tried to shove his thoughts to the back of his head, his heart was pounding as you pulled it out of your bag. It was a little book… A comic book? “Oh! What comic is this?”

He grabs it from your hand to read the cover and sees “The Brave, Bold, and Indomitable, Eddie the Banished VOL. 1” He reads it over again and again, believing that his eyes are playing tricks on him before slowly turning to look at you. You had a sweet, shy, and scared smile on your face as you awaited his reaction. “No fucking way.” His voice is a low, stunned, whisper as your smile spreads and he quickly flips through the little book. 

He opened the first page and felt like he couldn’t breathe, the art inside was breathtaking. “No fucking way.” He examined a character that was definitely him, running his fingers over the pages in awe. 

“Yeah, t-that’s you.” You scoot closer to him and lean over the center console to point him out on the page. “Here’s the rest of the party.” You point out more details to him, explaining why you picked some of the outfits you did, and why you chose certain trees and times of day but Eddie isn’t paying very much attention. He’s not even looking at the book anymore, he’s just watching you. You’re explaining every aspect of the page to him as he inspects every aspect of your face. Until you abruptly stop and he watches embarrassment creep into your features. His eyes flicker back to the page as you take your finger away from where you were pointing and he notices a little person in the corner of the page, almost hidden in the bushes as the party makes their way through a forest. 

“What-” He recognizes it on further analysis. “Is that you?” He asks with a chuckle of disbelief as he pulls the page closer to his eyes, admiring your little character. “Why are you in the bushes, sweetheart?” 

You’re stumbling over your words at the pet name. Eddie has used it twice in this car ride alone and you’re struggling not to lose your mind. “U- Um well… I’m- I’m just a bystander so… so I’m just by-standing.” You end the sentence with a sad giggle and your eyes shift to your fidgeting hands in your lap. Eddie’s smile falters at it and the memory of him inviting you to be more than. 

“Yeah. I mean- not for lack of trying y’know? I guess you’d rather be a cheerleader.” He tried to keep his tone light and jovial as he turned the page, now looking for you in every bush. He’s chuckling at your drawings as you’re overcome with confusion. “Eddie. What are you talking about?”

He doesn't look up from the book. “C’mon, love. We offered you a membership without gameplay and you just-” He takes a deep breath as he feels a small lump form at the base of his throat. “You couldn’t have been less interested.” He’s giving you that humorless laugh again as he flips the page. You’re searching your brain, racking your memories, trying to remember when this happened but coming up blank.

“Eddie, I don’t remember that happening.” He sighs, shuts the book, and shoves it under his thigh before starting the van back up, sad anger bubbling in his chest. 

“Listen, I get it. Y’know, you wanna be popular. I understand the pull, sweetheart. I don’t blame you at all.” You’ve never felt more confused as Eddie pulled out of the parking lot. Your silence makes him nervous, and nerves make his mouth run. 

“I mean… When you got here- poor unsuspecting, you- didn’t believe that the first friend you made was-” He lifts his hands from the wheel for a moment to make air quotes. “The town freak.” He gives you that laugh again.

“I’m honestly surprised that it took you so long to leave us losers for the popular crowd!” His voice is still upbeat, and light, as though he wasn’t breaking your heart and insulting you to your core at the same time. “OH! I- I guess you just needed a ride, right? It’s alright, sweetpea.” He’s so frustrating, that fake smile plastered on his face as he pulls up to your house. 

“Eddie.” Your voice is strained around the ball in your throat but still angry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t even like what you’re saying so either explain or just stop talking.” He parks the van on your curb and stares at you silently. You take this as the ‘stop talking’ option. “Okay. Thanks for the ride…” You hop out of his van sadly and turn around. “I- I hope you like your comic, Eddie…” With that, you slam the door closed and rush to your front porch. Eddie waits to watch you enter the house before pulling out of your driveway, trying not to let his guilt override his anger. 

On the whole drive home, Eddie is mulling over everything you said. Your seemingly genuine confusion over the invitation. He thinks over the original scene, you did say you weren’t listening. Eddie thought you meant it in the sense where you knew what the conversation was about but you wanted to stay out of it… but maybe you literally were not listening. Maybe you legitimately did not hear what they had said. 

Eddie pulls into his driveway and opens the comic book, deciding he needs to read it before heading in. He didn’t realize how long he’d end up spending in his van, reading your comic but when he finally looked up from the pages, getting butterflies from your art and how vividly you remember his campaign, the sky was dark. He chuckled to himself and headed inside to get ready for bed. 

Eddie flipped through the comic all night, noticing a pattern within your art. You were on every page that the Hellfire party was on, watching what he assumed was all of them. He was obsessed with your art, especially your character, and was psycho analyzing her when he noticed it. She was staring at his character. On every page the two of you were on, you were staring at him, your line of sight fixed on his character. 

He felt as though he was losing his mind as he frantically flipped through every page. His heart raced as he watched your character watch him. He loved it, whether you did it on purpose or not, it was doing something to him. Heat rushed to his face as he put the book away and calmed himself down. He didn’t want to read too much into it but he couldn’t help the way his heart raced when he approached you about it the next day. 

He wanted to work up to the subject, he wanted to pretend that it hadn’t consumed his every thought since he noticed but instead, he just blurted it out to you the moment he sat down.

“Why are you watching me?” His face goes red after the words shoot out, wishing he had taken more time to craft what he wanted to ask. He watches humored puzzlement bloom over your face as you giggle softly, giving him butterflies in his tummy.

 “Eddie, you just got here. I was gonna say hi…” Your voice is timid, still careful after the little argument yesterday and fear begins to curl in Eddie’s stomach. He forgot he had been an asshole to you yesterday. 

Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe she was just drawing her “good side”. Why would she be staring at you, Munson? Get a grip, Jesus.  

He tries to play it off. “I- I’m just sayin’ you could’ve waved or something.” He tries to sound upbeat, and cheerful, but he can’t get it to sound genuine. All night he’s been fantasizing about what it would be like if you actually liked him back. How he would give you hugs and kisses no matter where you were. He thought about how in love with you he’d be, it’d be pretty annoying to everyone else but he wouldn’t even care. 

He knows you’d love it too, he’d give you everything he has, everything he had and ever will have. 

He shouldn't have gotten so far ahead of himself. 

He thought about how he would follow you to whatever college you wanted to go to- if you wanted to go. He would get a job nearby and you guys could rent an apartment together. He’d wait until you’ve graduated to ask you to marry him. He’d take you to your favorite spot, with all your favorite things, and propose to you in whatever way you’d want him to. He’d spare no expense on the ring- if that’s something you’d care about. 

He’d start a mechanic shop with Wayne and they’d be so rich that you wouldn't even need to work if you didn’t want to. He thought about your kids, he’d hope that they look like you, they’d get far in the world being as beautiful as you are. He wants them to be like you too, good, sweet, and caring. He spent the night going over your whole lives together, his cheeks sore from how long he’d been smiling. But you don’t like him like that. 

Eddie distantly hears the bell ring, not realizing he’d spent the whole class moping over the fact that you don’t like him. He looks around to see you’ve already left him. You usually wait with him, you like to chat on the way to the next class. Your absence has never felt so painful for him. 

Once he’s gathered his things he heads to the next class where he sees your seat surrounded by cheerleaders, a small smile on your face as they seem to dote on you. He decides he doesn’t need to sit with you today, you have enough people to keep you company. He actively avoids looking at you for the duration of the class, rushing out once the bell rings. 

He rushes to the bathroom, bumping into people and getting insults hurled his way in the process. He gets to his stall, with all his graffiti, and slumps against the wall to the floor. His mind is racing, his chest heaving as he tries to cope with losing you. She’s with them now I guess? But- 

His memories flash back to all the times you guys hung out, just the two of you. He felt as though you were just a better, female version of him. You were an outcast but in the best- or worst- way possible. You were like a gem he had found in this pile of shit town, everyone else had overlooked you, not wanting to wash the shit off to see you shine, but he had. He didn’t care about the shit, he wanted to be there for you in the way no one was there for him when he arrived. 

He thinks he fell in love with you the moment he found out you were also repeating your senior year, not for the third time like him but still. He thought it was cute how embarrassed you were about the fact that you were repeating, he loved the way he was able to help you be more comfortable and help you understand that it’s not your fault.

 He felt like- He thought that he was something special to you, he hoped he was something special to you. He treats you like you’re something special to him because you are- or at least he thought he treated you like that. 

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he should’ve invited you to play in Hellfire more often, invited you over more, given you more of his lunch when your aunt forgot to give you money, and given you a better discount on his weed. Maybe he should’ve just been less of a freak. 

Tears are gathering in his eyes as he angrily rubs at them, feeling pathetic. Crying over a girl in a bathroom stall. I really am a fucking loser. 

He takes a few deep breaths before getting off the ground, leaving the bathroom, and heading to the cafeteria. He expects to see you at his table, and the butterflies in his stomach come back to life when he imagines the tone you’ll give him when you ask where he’s been like you always do when he’s late. He grabs lunch and sits down… you’re nowhere to be seen. 

“Where’s your better half?” Gareth asks, gaining a laugh from the table. It just hurts Eddie more. He stays silent, pulling out his Walkman and letting music drown out every voice or thought in his head until he sees people getting up to leave. 

“Hey, Ed.” Gareth is the only one who waited for him.

“I’m sorry if I was an ass earlier. I know you like her, I just- I thought you actually did know where she was.” Eddie feels his throat close up and almost rolls his eyes at himself. 

“It’s fine, Gareth. She’s probably off with Chrissy Cunningham.” He says with a gruff, tense voice, ignoring the shock that plasters on Gareth’s face.

“Cunningham? What- How does she even know her?” Eddie shrugs and starts walking to his next class, Gareth following close behind. “She’s like what? Friends with them now? She’s gonna be a cheerleader or something?” Eddie feels his emotions building inside him, like an overfilled balloon and he’s about to pop. 

He stops walking and turns to him. “I don't fucking know, Gareth.” Gareth’s gaze shifts from Eddie immediately. “I don’t know why she’s hanging out with them now. I don’t know why she doesn’t come to Hellfire or why she doesn’t talk to me on the ride to her house anymore. I don’t know!” Eddie is met with silence at the end of his rant. “Oh! I know.” His voice has dropped to a low, condescending, whisper. 

“Maybe she got tired of being one of the freaks, hmm?” He rushes off to his next class and for the first time, he’s grateful that you’re not in it. 

You’re in class and your thoughts could not be further from the material. You’re thinking about Eddie of course. The way he acted in the van yesterday, the way he acted in first period, and even second period. You noticed he came into lunch late and didn’t even speak to anyone when he did come in. He didn’t look at you, talk to you, or anything. It hurt. 

You’re anxious, leg bouncing and chewing on your pen as you watch the clock. You need to see him, ask him what’s wrong. 

Maybe he figured it out. Fear shoots through you. Maybe he figured out that I like him from the comic. I didn’t get to explain much but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Is this his reaction to my liking him? No. It can’t be. Even if he didn’t like me back… I don’t think he’d treat me like this. I think he would let me down gently.  

It’s a nice thought but it just leaves you back where you started. What is wrong with Eddie?

You’re ready to ask him. You got there first and pulled his desk a little closer to yours, hoping to have a full, meaningful conversation with him. He never shows. 

This isn’t alarming to anyone but you, everyone scoffs when the teacher reads out Eddie’s name the second time. There are murmurs of “took him long enough” and “I’m so shocked” hurting you with their lack of care. You wait for attendance to finish before asking to go to the bathroom. You take your bag with you and no one questions it, knowing you as the ‘good girl’, not realizing you’re about to skip class for the first time. 

You roam the school looking for Eddie. You check Hellfire’s room, the band room, even the art room but you can’t find him. You check places he wouldn’t be, the library, the computer lab, and even the abandoned school basement. Your heart is racing as you rush out to the parking lot, hoping at least his van is still here and that’s where you find him. Coughing on what you assume is cigarette smoke by his van.

“Eddie!” You shout his name without thinking and his head whips in your direction, shocked. A smile spreads on his face as you stomp toward him. Despite all the unknowing pain you’ve put him through today, the butterflies in his stomach are still alive for you. 

“Eddie, what the fuck?” His smile falters but quickly returns as he goes to hand you the joint he’s smoking. 

“You’re skipping!? You look like you need this more than I do.” You take the joint and inhale the most smoke you can without burning your lungs, Eddie looks impressed. 

“I do need this more than you.” You speak as you exhale. Eddie is staring at the joint, waiting for you to pass it back but instead, you take another hit. “I need this more than you do because I’m not the one who is stressing you beyond oblivion! What is going on with you?” Eddie’s eyes are on the ground as he kicks the little rocks there. 

“Eddie. You know you can talk to me, right? If anything is going on with Wayne or- or maybe something else? I don’t know I- I just- I can’t figure out why you’re acting so… different.”

He laughs. He fully laughs at you. His hand on his chest, leaning back and roaring his laughter into the air. “I’m acting different?” He snatches the joint from your hand. “I’m the one acting different, sweetheart? Miss ‘So sorry I can’t come to Hellfire today! No! I’m not going to explain!’, you’re telling me that I’m acting different?” He takes a drag 

“You don’t care about my campaigns anymore, you never have time to come over, you never have time for me to come over, and now you- you don’t sit with me at- at lunch anymore?” His voice breaks at the end and he turns away to take a hit before you can see the tears in his eyes. “Don’t tell me that I’m stressing you out.” He scoffs and holds his hand out, passing you the joint. 

It strikes something in you; Eddie still passing the joint back to you even though he’s upset. You take it from him with a small ‘thank you’ and take a hit before responding. “I was- It was the comic Eddie… I was working on the comic. It was harder than it looked I guess. I- I couldn’t get your hair right and-”

Eddie hasn’t reacted, he feels like he’s in shock, like his heart has stopped, he’s having a stroke, something. Your voice sounds far away as he’s buried in his thoughts. 

I’m a dickhead. I’m an asshole. She was doing it for me and I’m- I was yelling at her for it. I’m a fucking asshole. She’s still talking to me so softly too. Fuck. Why isn’t she upset with me? Why isn't she yelling at me? Why aren’t I apologizing? 

“I’m sorry!” His voice is the epitome of pitiful, he didn’t notice the knot that had made home in his throat or the tears that had been sitting on the ducts. Your eyes are wide and you almost drop the joint to hug him, knowing he gets emotional when he’s high. 

“Why are you sorry? You don’t need to be sorry- what’s wrong?” His arms wrap around you, crushing you to his chest as he huffs out breaths into your hair. He’s trying to calm down, trying to not completely break down in front of you but he’s failing so far. 

Fuck- fuck. Stop crying- what the fuck happened to you? Stop blubbering like a bitch- She’s she’s so soft- oh fuck she’s so warm. She’s so fucking sweet. I fucking love her. She’s- She’s so stupid.

“I do ne- need to be sorry what are you talking about?” He pulls away, leaving one hand on your shoulder as he runs his knuckles and the back of his arm along the bottom of his nose. “I was being an asshole- an asshole. When you were just tryna do something nice.” He’s breathing out shuddering breaths as he speaks. 

She’s too sweet to me. She still has her arms around me- such a fucking sweetheart. I love her- I want her, I wanna tell her. 

You don’t know what the fuck is going on. Eddie is a blubbery mess in front of you, holding you close as he tries to calm himself down. He’s gripping your shoulder so hard you feel like he may puncture your skin but you never want him to move it. 

You should be focusing on the fact that he’s crying because he thinks he was mean to you but all you can think about is one thing.

His lips are wet and pink from his tears and his teeth.

You try to ignore it; the urge to kiss him. You try to think about how to comfort him but your arms are still around his waist, it would be so easy to just pull him in…

“Eddie. I don’t mind, I should’ve told you.” You separate from him and he gasps softly. 

“I was actually spending so much time on it for a more selfish reason.” Your heart is racing but not as much as it was the last time you planned to confess. 

How nice he is to you has to mean something, he gives you a ride home every day. That has to mean something. He gives you discounts on weed when you know he makes Gareth pay extra. How upset he is over possibly being mean to you. That has to mean something. The way he’s looking at you right now… That has to mean something. 

“Eddie, I like you.” You shove the words out of your throat, leaving you breathless after they come out. “I- shit.” You looked at him. His face is blank. “I really like you, so much that if you don’t like me back I- I don’t care- We- we can just be friends. We can- I can pretend that this never happened… It’s okay.” You’re a little frantic as you get the words out, nervous at Eddie’s silence. 

You risk a glance at his face and there are tears in his eyes again. “Can I kiss-” He inhales a gasp. “Can I kiss you?” His face is full of wonder like he’s genuinely in disbelief at what’s happening. 

You want to cry. “Yes. Please.” You try not to sound too eager but you’re already taking a step toward him and your hands are reaching for him. 

He’s all over you in an instant, whimpering into your mouth the moment your lips meet. His hands are covering both sides of your face, pulling you into him desperately. He’s twisted you up against his van, his hands moved to your waist to bring you impossibly closer. You pull away with a smile to breathe but Eddie whimpers and leans back into your lips. 

You can’t help the giggle that comes out, breaking the kiss and causing Eddie to whine again. “I thought you wanted to kiss me? Kiss me.” 

“Wait- I’m a-” Eddie pulls back to let you speak, although you can see he wishes he didn’t have to. “Eddie… You like me?” His eyes widen and his face turns red at the question. 

“How is that even a question you’re asking me right now? I- of course, I like you. I can’t believe that you like me.” His voice is gentle as he speaks, tense like he’s waiting for you to change your mind about him. You shake your head with a smile and pull him back in, humming happily as his lips eagerly press into yours. 

You guys left school then, Eddie drives you both to his place and you guys finish the joint on the way. His hand was on your thigh the whole time with that shining, dimpled smile, beaming at the road the entire ride. It was the best ride of your life, it had you thinking about your life with him. 

How much you’d love him. How you’d give him hugs and kisses no matter where you guys were. You thought about how in love you are, it’d be pretty annoying to everyone else but you wouldn’t even care. You know he’d love it too, you’d give you everything you have, had, and ever will have. 

Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

#eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #luvrxsmut #luvrxfics