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#the implication of him having accepted it already and all
poisonedfate · 28 days
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bbc merlin - 04x05 His Father's Son
top 10 breakups of all time
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ntaras · 8 months
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quan chi being a brown man and also being “born into labor” as stated in his bio really just. makes me pause and scratch my head.
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cryptideye · 1 year
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still baffled at the onestars confession retcon that implied crowfeather knew about three as early as when breezekit was still a baby when jayfeather LITERALLY looks inside of his head to know that he didn't in Sunset 😭
#like??? what was the purpose of that#and yeah I guess it was more implied than outright confirmed but#it makes literally zero sense for him to A. know about the three and B. be sneaking around to see leafpool#while he was actively with nightcloud since he was super pissed at leaf after their breakup AND the fact that#he can't have been with her at the same time and also not know about the three. he would've had to see her pregnant???#him cheating doesn't make ANY sense not because he's particularly virtuous or kind but because of what we KNOW he knew about the three#and how he acts around leafpool. you cannot tell me that crow 'you chose your clan remember' feather would be#sneaking off to go cuddle with leafpool after she broke up with him#it makes even less sense if you accept the 'he got with nightcloud to prove loyalty and she got with him for kits' explanation#(which I do)#because okay he decides to prove his loyalty by rebounding into nightcloud because leafpool said it wasn't gonna work but then he just goes#'lol nevermind'??? it doesn't line up with his future or previous actions at all#also are you really telling me leafpool would agree to meet up with him while he had breezekit in the nursery??? come on lmao#maybe I'm misreading the scene and it wasn't an attempted retcon#but the fact it was compared to onestars 'secrets being kept for the good of everyone thing"#definitely implies to me that they were trying to say he was cheating on nightcloud and aware of the three#and again. this doesn't make any sense at all. already explained why#I can accept he maybe snuck off to like. creepy observe her but since he was being compared to ONE STAR here#the implication was definitely more than that so I'm just like. okay are you retconning him cheating or is this just a weird line#crowfeather sneaking off to check on leafpool bc he's not over it even though he isn't aware of his kits and the relationship is over#especially on her end: believable#crowfeather meeting up with her and being aware of the three: no fucking way.#I'll accept that he was probably internally pining even if he was outwardly aggressive and cold towards her#but I do not accept this idea that he was still openly pursuing her. does not make sense
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taintedcigs · 3 months
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— late night blues
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pairing: roommate bsf!eddie munson x f!reader
summary: you can’t seem to sleep, so eddie offers to drive you around, but you have something else in mind that can make you relax and help you fall asleep faster; his fingers. (wc: 3.1k+)
author's note: not proofread. entirely self-indulgent. and normally i would gaf about interactions but i literally dont rn. i needed this <3 and for all my insomniacs out there... i appreciate u and i am u. hope this is like a warm/horny hug to all of u as much as it is to me. bc i need it desperately. the ending is kinda rushed i am so v sorry. pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.
Hogging the blanket you sank deeper into the couch, the light illuminating from the TV screen enough to have you squinting, but never enough to lull you into sleep.
You huff, impatiently, trying to shut off the voices in your head, thoughts swirling around everywhere and anywhere, making it impossible to let you embrace the sweet sleep you so desperately need.
"Why are you awake?" A low groan of Eddie's voice almost startles you, slight gasp leaving your lips, making you sit up straight with a deep breath.
"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, "didn't wanna wake you."
"Should've," he grumbles, stomping on his way next to you, "y'know I can't sleep knowing you're awake, right?" A lazy smile is placed on his lips when he slouches right next to you.
The couch sinks with the impact and so does your stomach, the implications of his words not going unnoticed, the two of you have always been close, too fucking close to being considered as just friends.
Yet, none of you ever made any effort.
And you were growing tired of it, because, shit, did you like him. And a part of you, as well as everyone else in the gang kept teasing you about, told you he liked you too. Just waiting to be pushed.
"Wanna smoke?" He asked with a hum, "might help you sleep better." The brunette placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, another act the two of you always did, affectionate, too affectionate to be just friends, yet none of you ever dwelled on it, despite it leaving your entire body on fire in its wake, and Eddie's stomach churn with delight as you always smiled up at him. Sweet, almost peaceful, making you nod quietly, looking so fatigued that his chest ached for you.
"Was t'tired... couldn't roll one." You point toward the mess on the coffee table, grinder open with strains stuck in it, crumpled-up rolling papers, and a bunch of filters sprawled everywhere.
"How about we take a drive, princess?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the pad of his thumb slowly circling your face, tender and making you melt into him.
You shake your head quickly, not wanting to bother him in any way. "Eds, it's too late, I don't want you to-"
But he's quick to scoff. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Eddie, I mean it, we can just smoke this here and-" He tuts you quickly, already getting up, his Garfield sweatpants fully in view, making you giggle.
He takes your hand in his, dragging you while you huff and puff. "Grab a jacket or one of my hoodies, and let's fuckin' roll, honey."
Once you throw over one of his oversized hoodies, he almost carries you to the car, not wanting you to lose that sleepy state, knowing that it'd be hard for you to get it back.
You buckle your seatbelt, just watching him in his groove, head falling into the headrest as you admire him rolling a joint so quickly that it makes your head spin. "How the fuck can you do that?" You groan, "'s not fair." A pout overtakes your lips, causing him to grin. He wants to kiss it away, yet all he does is tuck the strands of your hair that are covering your features, turning your lips into a mellow smile, matching his.
"Well it helps if you were a dealer in high school." He rambles, a hearty giggle escaping from your lips, "I'll teach you some time too, honey, promise." You nod in acceptance, and another kiss is planted on your forehead, one you happily accept, let his warmth overtake your skin, eyes glazy and lidded as you look up at him, sleep deprivation so apparent in your face that it tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, seeing you this miserable. And not being able to do anything about it. Yet.
Quickly retrieving the lighter from his back pocket, he places the rollie on his lips, letting the igniting flame heat it quickly, sizzling sound as he inhales a small huff before passing it onto you calming you further.
You suck on it with a hum, watching the way Eddie quickly turns on the ignition, windows rolled down, the same relaxing tape playing over and over again, volume dimmed, Good Feeling by Violet Femmes serves as a background drop, one of your favorite songs, and of course, Eddie knows it.
The velvety dark sky steals your attention as you once again suck on the fragrant joint gently cradled between your fingers. Letting it engulf and numb you, for your bloodshot eyes to have a reason other than being restless.
A gentle breeze whispers through the cranked windows, rustling your hair in front of your face, making you giggle lightly. Three puffs, and you are already feeling giddy, "not too strong is it?" he asks, glancing at you with the biggest grin on his face, amber hues watching you intently.
"Nuh-uh," you hum, and his hand tenderly droops down to your thighs, giving you three gentle squeezes as a form of comfort. At least, he intends it to be for comfort.
But all you can think about is how thick and warm his fingertips are, cladded rings bringing a coldness that makes you hiss, tummy doing a flip as your hazy mind craves more.
It is the last piece of the puzzle you need to finally fall into that deep slumber, Eddie making you cum on his long fingers, curling inside of you, rings slicked with your juices, it's all you can think about.
You whine at your thoughts, throat growing dry at them, not knowing if it is cotton mouth or how stunning Eddie looks while focused on the road.
The perfect side profile that you can't help but admire; chiseled jaw with the slightest stubble that you'd do anything to have it rubbing against your clit right about now, Adam's apple bobbing slightly the more he gulped, lips plushy and so soft that you wanted nothing more than to bite into them, have them suckling your neck.
Fuck, this could be it, couldn't it?
You were already a bit dizzy, giving you enough courage to ask him to, and if he rejected you, you could always just turn it into a joke, couldn't you?
You rasp a desperate breath when his hands squeeze your thigh again, prominent veins making you mewl. His head cocks towards you in worry at the sound, "you okay?"
You barely register his words, gaze too focused on the tempting hold he has on you, "hmm?"
He quirks a brow, a smirk playing on his lips when he realizes how hazed you are, "are you hungry or something, sweetheart?"
Yeah, you were. Hungry for him.
You shake your head slightly. "You sure?" He asks, more attentive, and you can feel your wetness pool around your thighs, slicking you.
"Mhmm," you reply, head turning to meet his gaze, and when he slightly tilts his head, his shaggy bangs fall onto his forehead, making you gulp physically, he looks beautiful.
"Do you want anything?"
If he was any more attentive, you were going to crawl into his lap and grind on his bulge that hugged the print of Garfield on his sweatpants, "Nope," you gulped, prying your eyes away from the outline of his huge cock forcefully.
"Need anything?"
"You." The words slipped past your lips without any interference from you, it's like your subconscious was doing all the talking you had been so afraid of.
The insomnia and weed becoming a dangerous combo.
He choked out a laugh, cheeks crimson red, spreading across his bone like crushed raspberries. "Hah, funny aren't ya?"
He avoided your gaze, yet your head snapped to meet his. "Eddie- I-I mean it."
"Sweetheart," he mumbled, a low groan awaiting in his throat.
Doe-eyed, melting, and pleading hues finally met his. "P-please, Eddie, need it so bad, need to cum, relax," you coaxed, hand placed on his, squeezing it back, causing a drawl of sigh out of him.
He can't bring himself to ease into your touch, his lips quivering at the thought of finding you soaking for him, "Honey, you're high," he tries to reason, voice squeaky pitch, he wants it, so goddamn bad, but he can't take advantage of you in any way.
You huff, disagreeingly. "Oh, c'mon, Eddie, I just took like three huffs, you know I'm not a lightweight!"
"Sweetheart, I know but it doesn't feel right-"
"But I'm begging you to!" Your pleading voice crushes him, cock stirring just at your squeaky tone, you're going to be the fucking death of him.
"Y-you have no idea how fucking stupid I feel for turning you down when all I want to-" He sighed. "I don't wanna do anything that you might regret."
You huff at that, does he not realize how desperately you want him? How badly you have wanted him all this time?
"Fuck, Eddie, just-" Fingertips graze his once you grab his rough hands, they are powerless in your hold, and you're quick to dip them down your pajamas, rubbing them against your cotton panties that are now entirely soaked with your juices. "Do you feel that?" Your voice is shaky, and low groans rumble in his chest, his focus on the road becoming dizzy.
It feels surreal, you begging for him, for his fingers, how wet your panties feel just because of him. His brain can't comprehend a thought, your name slipping past his lips like prayers.
He can't help but press his hand further against your panties, just to feel more of you, cock straining against his own cage of boxers, knuckles white from the harsh grip he has on the steering wheel.
And you can see the desperation in his eyes, spurring you more and more. "How fucking wet I am just because you squeezed my thigh? Do you think I'd regret anything when I'm this soaked for you?"
He can't help it, roaring the engine again before he abruptly comes to a stop on the side of the road, his mind too dizzy to comprehend anyfuckingthing. "Fucking christ, baby, I-"
You interrupt him again, head lulling to his side, giving him those desperate, lewd eyes again. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, Eddie, p-please, you said you'd help me sleep... relax, I'm more than okay with it."
You know he's on the verge of caving in, he wants this as much as you do. "Angel..." he mumbles, tone so pornographically lustful that you feel the need to show him how much you want him.
You shove his hands inside of your panties in frustration, and he groans lightly at it, fingertips run up and down your slit, never entering your hole, taking his time to fully feel how badly you want him.
He collects your wetness at the tip of his digits, smearing them over the hood of your clit, earning a shallow gasp from you, just enough to break him, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, you're soaked," he grunts, eyes watching you hungrily.
"Mhmm, all for you," you hum, head thrown comfortably into the headrest, eyes lulling. He runs his fingertips over your sides, teasing, covering you in your juices, and all you can do is mewl for him.
A digit slips inside of you easily, making you moan so loud that Eddie's cock aches in the confinements of his sweats, admiring the way your mouth gapes at how good his fingers feel. "God, you're perfect like this, princess," he hums, fingertips circling around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to get you worked up.
It makes you whimper pathetically, turns out Eddie really does know you. So much so that all you want to do is cum on his thick fingers, have him take you home, make you bounce on his cock again and again.
He pushes another finger inside of you, watching the way your cunt takes his fingers all greedily. You're the one who's supposed to be high, yet he feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy that he can barely comprehend it.
This is all real, you just begged him to finger you, and now you're mewling on his fingers, pussy throbbing as he stretches you out slowly.
"That's it, baby," he encourages, listening to the sweet sounds of your whimpers, "doin' so good f'me," his praises drive you even crazier, and loud moans escape from your parted lips the more his thumb circles around your clit.
"So greedy, hmm?" He coos condescendingly, relishing in the pretty faces you make, his ring finger joining inside of your soppy cunt easily, "E-Eddie," you mumble, lost in him, fully.
His fingers pump in and out of you at a rough pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge, he can feel your cunt squeezing his ringed fingers desperately.
"You close, angel?" He grunts, and a sheen of heat creeps its way across your chest and up your throat at how good he is, all you can do is nod pathetically, too dizzy and too lost in his fingers to even speak.
You take your plump bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stiffle your pathetic moans, but once he adds another finger, cold rings brushing against your clit, you can't help yourself.
"E-Eddie, fuck!" You moan, and he watches in awe, keeps his praises up, eager to see what you look like when you cum. He knows you'll be even prettier, screaming out his name, soaking his fingers in your pretty juices.
Your chest heaves with how much you're feeling him, stuffed full of his fingers, you can't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. Shit, maybe next time.
You pathetically rut your hips into his fingers, and he groans so filthily that your body feels frail, "That's it, baby," he praises. "Use me, honey, use my fingers to get yourself off."
Your face contorts with the sweetest pain and pleasure, his fingers plunged deep inside of you, padded thumb still continuing it's circles. Once his fingers curl inside of you, you know you’re a fucking goner.
Each of his movements, his touch, ignites a fire within you that is heightened by the weed, you are so desperate to cum that you don't even realize how pathetically you've been soaking his fingers, so wet and Eddie relishes in it.
"Oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You moan out once you feel that dizzying pleasure bubbling in your chest, he can feel your pussy flutter around his thick fingers, making his chest swell with pride. "Mhmm, just like that, darlin', cum on my fingers."
It's all the confirmation you need before you cry out his name again, back arching as pleasure explodes inside of your stomach, vision growing white and dizzy. Your fucked out face, pathetic moans, and your gaping mouth making Eddie's cock strain tighter and tighter, as if that’s even possible.
His fingers don't leave your soppy cunt until he makes sure you ride your orgasm out, relishing in the pretty expressions your face contorts to as you fall apart for him.
Bringing a stupid wide grin to his face that has you feeling giddier. The weight of what the two of you did doesn't dawn yet, you're too tired, too fucked out to care, and all Eddie can think about is going back to the trailer and rubbing one out while thinking about the pretty sounds you made, the pretty shapes your face took as you came on his fingers. His.
He'll think about how pretty your eyes look rolled all the way back inside of your head when he's slamming into you, cock stuffed inside of you, parted lips repeating his name like a fucking prayer. Your tight cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him dry.
With a groan, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking clean the remains of you, pathetically groaning at how sweet you taste. You watch him with lulled eyes, breath growing heavier, and if you weren’t about to pass out, you’d beg him for more, have his hard cock stuffed inside of you.
“Tastes so goddamn sweet,” he grunts, licking any taste of you left off his lips, your sweet juices engrained in his tastebuds.
You blink quickly to process all of it, mind numbed out. Fuck, he’s making this so goddamn hard for you.
“E—Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving as a shy smile appears on your lips, mind hazy as you try to form words. "T-that was amazing, shit."
"Yeah?" He beams, the praise is all he needs. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
Your eyes glimmered at his words, air between the two of you was charged with a sweet tension. Breaths almost synchronized with the way both of your chests rose and fell on the rhythm of what just fucking happened. And all the feelings that led up to it.
You wanted to talk about it, take this further, maybe even continue back home.
But sleep began to settle inside of you, eyelids betrayed your pent-up feelings for him, already drooping in surrender.
And of course, Eddie knew by the sheepish smile you gave him, you were almost on the brink of sleep, and it was more important than his stupid feelings because the two of you had all the time in the world to talk about... whatever this was, tomorrow.
But if you lost your sleepy state, he knew you'd never get it back, “You sleepy yet?" He asked, thoughtful, caring gaze watching you intently, making you nod.
"Mhmm," you hummed, "But, Eddie..."
"Yeah?" He prompted, eager to soak up each and every one of your words.
"I don't want this to be a one time thing," you admitted, shyly, your heart leaping out of your chest in excitement.
"Thank fucking God." Slipped past his lips unintentionally, causing a hearty giggle to bubble up within you, easing away all of your worries.
Pools of warmth swam in his gaze, fully melting into you. "Me neither, sweetheart," he whispered, starting the car again, engine humming to life.
He met you with a saccharine smile. "But we have all the time to talk about that tomorrow, promise."
It hung in the air, the promise, almost like a warm hug engulfing you. All the confirmation you need.
"You just go to sleep, now, honey, I'll carry you inside," he urged, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead.
"T-thank you," you hummed, resting your head comfortably, deep slumber not taking long to find you while he watched intently, mind still running with thoughts of you.
Both of you had no clue what would happen with this; yet, you were now sure that this wouldn't remain as a one-time thing.
After all, you had a hard time sleeping almost every night, thankfully, you would now have Eddie to fix that.
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ddarker-dreams · 13 days
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I'm clutching on the bars rn pls give us more bf blade content before I explode
I GOTCHU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm joining you in rattling the bars of my enclosure .... bf blade is making me feel Things ... .
warnings: fem reader, not sfw implications
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While changing into a new shirt, a deep voice drawls your name. 
Your heart jumps in your chest. If it weren’t for the recognizable timbre, you may have shrieked. It’s a small blessing that you’ve been spared this indignation. Huffing, you turn on your heels, pulling down the bunched-up fabric to cover yourself. 
“I thought you promised to stop jumpscaring me,” you chastise. 
The jumpscare in question — Blade — fixates on your previously exposed midriff. You note how his eyebrows pinch together, though you’re unsure what to make of it. He doesn’t acknowledge your comment. Not even with what Silver Wolf’s decreed his ‘limited NPC dialogue’ (a grunt, hum, nose exhale, or the occasional chuckle, solely procured by your antics). 
“Lift your shirt,” Blade requests. 
“Eh?” You stare at him like he has three heads. “Sorry, I’m waiting until marriage for that.” 
He gives you an unimpressed look. 
“Fine, fine, whatever,” you grumble, acquiescing to the strange demand, “And they said romance is dead…” 
Blade kneels onto one knee. Before you can reiterate the marriage comment was a joke, his gloved fingers hover over the sides of your hips. The leather is cool against your rapidly warming skin. Once you overcome your initial confusion, you consider his countenance. He’s frowning, his eyes playing host to emotions you can’t quite place. His thumb rubs circles into the skin, softly enough to be mistaken for a ghost’s kiss. He appears to be in deep thought. 
You’re rendered speechless — a most commendable feat. 
“These bruises,” Blade murmurs, his voice hollow and haunted, “Did I…?” 
Realization crashes into you like a meteorite. 
You yank the fabric down. “Well, uh, yes, but—” 
(He goes pale as a sheet, further increasing the urgency behind your words). 
“—It’s okay! You didn’t— it wasn’t— I didn’t mind,” you reassure. Clearing your throat, you continue, fighting against the embarrassment scorching you alive. “If anything, I… was into it, so…” 
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. His arms fall limp to his side as he mulls over what you’ve said, clearly unwilling to accept it at face value. Uncertain of what else to do, you join him on the ground, sitting on your shins. You take his face in your hands, brushing aside his bangs that’d obscured his eyes. His hair’s silky smooth, thanks to your products and insistence on combing through the knots. 
“Hey, old man,” you hum. “All that frowning’s gonna make you look your prehistoric age. You don’t want some young, dashing whippersnapper to steal me away, do ya?” 
Blade scowls. Smiling softly, you boop him on the nose, to which he scrunches it up. 
Your voice takes on a more serious cadence. “You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you, so… trust me on this, okay? Just this once?” 
It’s gradual. He relaxes his shoulders, then the taut muscles of his face, basking in your closeness. He leans into your touch, reminding you of a stray cat that’s steadily being domesticated. You let the silence linger for as long as he sees fit. Eventually, his gaze meets yours. 
“... It’s a dangerous game you play, girl.”
I’m dangerous, the insatiable hunger in his eyes screams. I long to devour you, mind and soul. 
To this, you grin. 
“It’s a good thing I’ve already won, then.” 
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honeydazai · 5 months
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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  sharing a bed with them 𓏸
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma
content: pre-relationship bed sharing, flirty/mildly sexual implications
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It's truly unfortunate that, while on a mission for the Agency, you have to share a bed with DAZAI — or so you think, at least. He doesn't share the sentiment in the slightest, instead smiling as innocently as possible the moment his gaze falls onto the single bed in the hotel room booked for the night. While he pretends to offer you the bed, he'll guilt-trip you about the couch being way too short for his long legs and about his back already aching until, eventually, you give in and share it with him.
Naturally, he gets into your space more than necessary at night, pretending he's asleep while cuddling close to you, given how, then, you can't cuss him out for wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your neck, breath warm against your throat. It's worse that he knows if you won't get any amount of sleep whatsoever, much too busy with fighting off arousal while he's pressed flush against your back.
“Hm? No, it's alright. I don't mind taking the couch. What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on there? Still, it's just — it's way too short and hard. Couches this uncomfortable shouldn't exist, really. I doubt I'll be able to get even a wink of sleep tonight, what a shame.”
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When there turns out to only be one bed in the hotel room you're supposed to stay in for the night, CHŪYA doesn't even hesitate before offering you the bed, immediately going for the couch instead. He won't accept any protests either; no matter whether you're worried about his comfort or just think it's polite to refuse his offer, he won't allow you to spend the night on a sofa. He's not making a huge deal out of it and, if you keep being annoying about it, he gets more and more exhausted by the minute.
Eventually, he might give in to the idea of sharing the bed. He has no trouble keeping to himself — or so he believes, because, once he's actually asleep, softly snoring into your ear, he's moving wildly, one leg eventually thrown over your body, arms stretched out. If you mention it to him in the morning, his cheeks flush soft pink.
“Hm? The fuck you mean, you'll be taking the sofa? Definitely not. I'm already here — and I don't mind. Go lie down and get some sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”
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RANPO, the very moment he steps foot into the room, decides he wants the bed to himself. The idea of taking the couch doesn't even cross his mind; instead, he makes his way over to the bed all too quickly, though, when you end up either glaring at him or asking him to share, he just shrugs.
Really, he doesn't make too big of a deal out of sharing a bed, not even seeming a little nervous at the idea of lying down beside you for hours on end. Meanwhile, at night, he cuddles up close to you — actually asleep, unlike a certain someone —, arms wrapped around you, for once completely unaware of you being all flustered because of him. In the morning, it'll be like nothing happened, even though you can't quite stop thinking about
“What are you looking at me like that for? I said we can share. If you're hoping to have it for yourself, tough luck. I was here first, just saying. Just get in or move to the couch already, I'm tired.”
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All of FYODOR'S decisions are based on logic; this one is no exception. If the bed is large enough to fit two people, it's large enough for the two of you to share — though, if you feel like taking the couch instead, he won't protest. That's your decision to make, after all.
While actually sharing the bed with him, it's basically like you're alone in there, anyway. He doesn't move when asleep, doesn't make a sound; it's all too easy to imagine he's not even there, even though, occasionally, a dark strand of hair might brush against your face. What you don't know, however, is that he, at night, while you're fast asleep, he takes the time to watch you up close, lilac eyes tracing over every plane of your face.
“I do not mind sharing the bed with you. I hope you feel similarly. We both are adults, are we not? I doubt this will be an issue. Just lie down.”
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NIKOLAI is undoubtedly amused by the idea of sharing a bed with you. He doesn't waste a single thought towards either of you taking the sofa instead; nonsense, just why would you do that? There's a perfectly fine bed right there, and surely both of you are mature enough to share one without any issues, right? Wrong.
He makes a point of being as obnoxious as possible, cuddling close to you the very second you lie down. It doesn't help that he's both tall and strong, his arms closed around your waist so you can't even try to get away or up, and he makes a point of whining whenever you attempt to squirm away. It's going to be a long night.
“What's the matter? Why are you moving so much? Stop it, I won't be able to fall asleep this way. Or — ah, are you trying to rile me up on purpose? That's naughty of you, sweetheart.”
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SIGMA immediately makes a beeline for the couch the second he notices the dilemma of having a double bed rather than two separate ones booked. He won't even discuss the topic with you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to sleep on a sofa, so he'll do it instead. There's no whining or guilt tripping from his end; he simply accepts his fate for the night. There's worse things to endure.
If you're incredibly serious about convincing him, however, he might just give in, even though his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual when he lies down next to you, making sure there's an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's you thinking he's trying to be creepy after you've decided to trust him — he probably ends up barely getting any sleep, just because he's worried about accidentally getting too close to you.
“Are you sure you're alright with this? I really don't mind spending the night on the sofa instead. ... Well, if you're sure — thank you.”
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NEW POST AGAIN FINALLY AA my commissions are open, by the way!! dm me if interested! 💜
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heytheredelulu · 2 months
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I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.
(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )
Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol
I took this and RAN with it.
It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.
I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!
Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.
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Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request
Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
Word Count: 2.5k
C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?
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“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”
You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.
“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.
“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.
“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”
You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.
“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.
“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”
Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.
Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.
You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.
Or maybe he thought you were cute.
Oh fuck, if only.
You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.
The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.
No, get it together. Now’s not the time.
You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.
“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.
Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.
Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.
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You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.
You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.
You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.
“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.
Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“
Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”
Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.
“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.
“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.
Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.
Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.
“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”
“Find Barnes.”
Find Barnes.
The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.
No. No, no, no.
There’s a hit out on you?
To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.
Oh you were so fucked.
You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.
Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.
He’s not in the wind.
He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.
“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.
He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.
Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.
“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.
He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.
Oh god.
The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.
You’re going to die.
So why are you so fucking turned on?
Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.
Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.
God this is so wrong.
His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.
His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.
“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.
“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“
His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.
Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.
He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.
He groans.
He fucking groans.
“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.
“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.
“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.
“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.
He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.
He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.
He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.
“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.
“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“
His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.
He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.
His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.
“All I can smell is how wet you are.”
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Taglist (Taglist is open):
@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka
Part two
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jaeyunverse · 2 months
Text
the fake dating pact
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pairing(s): park sunghoon x fem!reader
genre(s): fluff, suggestive, fake dating, enemies to lovers, rich kid au, cruise au
wc: 1.6k
warning(s): profanity, making out, implications to sex (no smut)
inspired by: dil dhadakne do
summary: in which ridiculous circumstances lead to a fake dating contract pact being struck between park sunghoon and you.
note: i’m ngl i thought i’d reposted this fic but i’m not able to find it so here we go LOL the sunghoon brainrot’s been hitting real hard lately
masterlist
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There was a slight chance Sunghoon and you had crossed the boundaries you’d set when you first drew up your fake dating contract.
Okay, agreement would be a more accurate word choice since the document wasn’t legally binding, but the two of you took its contents very seriously. Together, you’d come up with a few mutually acceptable ground rules:
no kissing unless absolutely necessary
non-sexual acts of intimacy are acceptable in order to maintain the facade
keep arguments to a minimum no matter how insufferable the other person is being
no bed-sharing under any circumstances
no falling for park sunghoon even though he is the epitome of sexiness
The last condition was total bullshit, but you didn’t have it in you to make him get rid of it. Your mom had already done an excellent job at pissing you off; the last thing you wanted to do was get into it with Sunghoon.
One may wonder what caused the two of you to make this pact. Simply put, both your families desperately wanted to set you up with people you had no interest in dating.
(Not that you wanted to seek a romantic relationship with Sunghoon either, but we’ll get into that later.)
Lee Saerom had organised a cruise across the Mediterranean Sea on the occasion of her parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. Normally, your family wouldn’t have come within 10 feet of the Park family, but you were both good friends of the Lees and neither of you wanted to give the other the satisfaction of avoiding the trip.
Now that all the powerful and influential families of Seoul were gathered in the same place for a celebration spanning over a few weeks, your parents thought it would be a good idea to find you an ideal suitor who would help their company expand.
Word spread that you were seeing Lee Heeseung, the younger son of the Lees and heir apparent to their empire. The rumour was entirely false, but you had to admit it was a genius move on your parents’ part. Not only did it become harder for Heeseung and you to deny the allegations, but it made the Lees consider a future with your family’s business.
As if you weren’t in a shitload of mess already, the entire thing had somehow turned into a competition with the Parks beginning their own efforts to set Sunghoon up with Ning Yizhou.
The minor problem was that Heeseung and Yizhou were in love with each other, and neither of them had the courage to tell everyone the truth. They were both too afraid of disappointing their parents and bringing disgrace to their families.
You supposed it was a good thing Sunghoon and you had no such qualms. So, before things could escalate any further, the four of you got together and decided to put an end to this idiocy.
On the third night of the cruise, Sunghoon and you announced your relationship. Holding his hand and giving him lovey-dovey eyes felt ridiculous, but you would rather stomach fake dating him than see a wedge form between Heeseung and Yizhou.
Needless to say, everyone was shocked.
Yizhou even pretended to faint while Heeseung started sobbing hysterically. You couldn’t believe he actually pulled out a tear stick and applied it to the underside of his eyes when no one was looking. You wondered if he’d purchased it for this specific reason when you’d explored Turkey earlier that day.
Overall, it was a pretty convincing act.
The Lees and Nings were furious, but you weren’t particularly worried. In fact, you didn’t even care. Your parents had it coming their way the moment they dragged you into their scheming and plotting.
It took a few days for everyone to calm down and for the festivities to resume, but things pretty much went back to normal. Sunghoon and you both got tongue-lashings from your families, but they didn’t make you two break up.
Your reputations were already in the gutter; forcing you to end your relationship after all that had conspired would have been the cherry on top of your disaster of a cake.
The pre-decided course of action was to fake date Sunghoon till the cruise ended. Once you returned to your daily lives and enough time had passed, you would cook up a reason to break up.
It didn’t take long for your original plan to go to shit. As it turned out, spending a week pretending to love the bane of your existence had proved to be quite the opportunity to really get to know him.
Ever since you were a kid, you’d heard your parents say a lot of terrible things about the Parks. You’d been instructed to stay far away from Sunghoon. An impressionable and susceptible child such as yourself had obeyed every order they gave you.
You’d literally been hard-wired to despise and assume the worst of Sunghoon.
The wall of hatred you’d built between the two of you began coming down brick by brick once you learnt the kind of man he was. He was honourable and good and down-to-earth.
Of course, he was a dickhead to you for the same reason you were a bitch to him, but the asshole side of him was more endearing than annoying now.
His snarky replies no longer seemed to bite, and there was always an underlying film of adoration accompanying them.
Perhaps, he’d grown to care for you just as you had for him.
You certainly hoped that was the case, since regularly making out with someone who couldn’t be bothered with you wasn’t exactly your dream.
To this day, you had no idea how you’d ended up grabbing the collar of his shirt and crashing your mouth against his.
Maybe it was because he kept reminding you that you’d lost a bet to him and you wanted to shut him up, or maybe it was because he hadn’t bothered to button up his shirt and his abs were on full display, the ocean wind ruffling his messy hair.
Nonetheless, something seemed to snap in him when you made the move. He responded to your kiss immediately and pinned you against a wall. Thankfully, it was almost midnight and there was no one to witness your less than decent makeout session on the deck.
The next ten minutes consisted of his hands travelling under your loose shirt, fingers grazing the cold skin of your abdomen. Soon, your shirt was discarded, and your legs were wrapped around his waist.
Sunghoon hadn’t bothered stopping even when you ran out of breath. Instead, he’d taken the opportunity to leave bruises on your jaw and neck. The warm feeling of his tongue soothing the spots where he’d nipped at your skin with his teeth had caused you to experience a burning need for desire that went further than the second base.
The amount of reaction he’d gotten out of you was embarrassing. Never had you been unraveled by anyone so effortlessly. He had to muffle the whimpers that slipped past your lips as a result of his ministrations.
If it weren’t for the fact that you were making out in the open and were at the risk of being walked in on, things would have escalated. By the time you parted, Sunghoon’s lips were swollen, his face was flushed and he was breathing hard.
His eyes were hooded and dark, and he was gazing at you with an intensity that made you shiver.
Taking that as your cue to leave, you pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek, fetched your shirt from the ground and hurried away.
You didn’t even know why you thought things would go back to normal the next day.
One look at him, and your legs turned to jelly. You happily obliged when he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and whisked you away from everyone else.
Soon enough, you’d breached almost all the conditions in your fake dating pact.
You spent most of your nights together—be it hooking up, lying in the comfort of each other’s arms or just talking till slumber claimed you. Never in your life had you imagined being at ease around Sunghoon.
Everything else faded away when you were with him. He made you feel yourself. He made you feel whole.
“Hey,” you murmured while you were both swimming in the pool one night, the stars shining brightly in the sky. His eyes were closed and his neck was tilted up, the back of his head resting on the decking behind. “Can I ask you something?”
Sunghoon hummed and opened his eyes, turning his attention to you. “Yeah.”
“I know we have a plan,” you continued, doing your best to ignore the droplets clinging to his skin, “and I know that we’re supposed to stop pretending after this cruise ends tomorrow, but have you ever thought about making this—” you pointed at him, and then at yourself— “real.”
He laughed softly and shook his head in amusement. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not joking—”
“Every single day,” he interrupted you. Wading his way through the water to close the distance between your bodies, he repeated, “I have thought about making you mine every goddamn day.”
He cupped your cheeks and rested his forehead against yours. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N,” he whispered.
Taking a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes and felt him press his lips to yours.
The kiss was slow and passionate, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It expressed what couldn’t be said using words, and you realised just how much you’d grown to admire and care for this man.
It physically pained you to consider the possibility of a life without him.
“Sunghoon,” you mumbled against his mouth. “I would say I love you too but I don’t wanna breach the contract.”
He chuckled and ran his tongue along your bottom lip, even going as far as to suck on it. “I thought you broke the last rule days ago.”
You couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face. You opened your lids and shifted to get a better look at his expression.
Sunghoon’s eyes were shining with happiness, and you thought you could gaze into them forever. You thought you could witness the grin on his face and hear his honeyed laugh without ever getting tired. You thought you could stand ground against anything life threw at you if you had him by your side.
You knew you could love him and be loved by him for as long as your soul wandered through the worlds.
“I love you too.”
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tvxcue · 2 years
Text
like i get why people don’t like wq/jc blah blah blah disclaimer or whatever. but maybe they just don’t get them like i do.
#speaking#like yeah they did make them a thing in cql just to have another straight ship it was absolutely not necessary.#but youre going to look at me and tell me that it did absolutely nothing for the story and the characters??????#you're going to look at me and tell me that knowing what they had going on doesn't change the golden core transfer?????#also like i do feel like theres just a lot of animosity towards drama changes just bc they were drama changes#without any consideration for how they might have actually [gasp] made the story better!#my's betrayal in qinghe is absolutely better in the drama than in the novel it makes the relationship between him and nmj#so much more interesting and makes my in general a better character bc it makes someone who is ALREADY complex even more so#also having my be with the nies even before the outbreak of the war makes for a more interesting dynamic with them and also makes the#subsequent betrayal more heart wrenching#similarly having wq/jc makes the entire back half of the flashback sequence sooooooo much for everything going on with their stories#bc like. it's not even that they hate each other it's that they just can't. of course wq cant abandon her family. but putting her rejection#on top of everything else going on with jc it's just. hes literally all alone. and like him offering HER safety and her refusing it......MAN#bc it was only for her he couldn't protect them all like i don't necessarily blame him for not being willing to protect them bc he couldn't!#he was in a precarious position he was rebuilding his sect after it had been destroyed completely like it's not just abt the other sects#potentially going against him. but like. the implication is that the vast majority of the jiang disciples joined during the war.#how can he rebuild a sect in such a precarious political situation where the jins are literally looking for any opportunity to swoop in and#destroy anyone who goes against them while putting his own sects survival on the line by trying to get them to accept ppl from the sect#they literally just fought a war against. like the drama does remove some of the gray area by making all the wens in the burial mounds#civilians but like. trying to make every single member of the jiang sect accept that choice is just not realistic. and like wq gets that!#she gets that even jsut offering her safety is pushing a lot of limits but she can't abandon her family! oh and then that choice paired with#wwx choosing to protect the wens over going back to the jiang sect...............the parallels..................
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months
Text
1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4
...
Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.
"Tea?" he asks.
You say nothing.
"Ghost, go get us some tea."
Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.
"You're Soap's girl," he says.
You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.
"Who is he to you?"
You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."
Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"
Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path. 
"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."
You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.
"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."
"No."
"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."
"What do you want?" you grit out.
"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"
"Barely seen it."
"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."
"I don't know anything."
"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"
"Didn't ask."
"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"
"No."
"Hm. Why not?"
"I'm a nobody."
"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”
You hold his gaze. "Yes."
"You don't think you're worth more than that?"
You say nothing.
The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.
"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."
You nod.
Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.
Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.
Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.
"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."
You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.
Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"
"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."
At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"
Hearing it is a punch to the gut.
Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"
Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."
Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.
"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"
Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.
"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."
Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.
"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."
"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."
Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"
"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."
"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."
Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.
Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.
His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.
"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."
Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."
"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"
No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.
You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.
Behind you, the door opens.
Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.
You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.
"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"
"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."
Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."
Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."
"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."
Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"
That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."
Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.
“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"
There's a beat of silence.
"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.
"I want access," Price replies.
"And once I have the information?"
"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"
You feel Soap's eyes on you.
"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."
"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."
Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.
"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.
"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”
Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."
Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10
more Soap / masterlist tag
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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 28 days
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8: SURPRISE!
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Bucky's surprise birthday party provides more surprises than you had hoped.
Word count 3.2k
Warnings: Birthday boy behaving badly, Priya is the warning here!
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Erik’s sexual intervention had released you of the tension you felt whenever you were around Bucky and you realized that his birthday was quickly approaching. You made it your mission to start working on Bucky’s birthday party. The previous year he had flat out refused to let you throw him any festive gathering and you had only accepted that on one condition: he would get one this year. You had no intention of letting him wheedle his way out of it this year. He had begrudgingly agreed but only if it was something small and intimate with his friends only. 
You had given Bucky a withering look. "Trust me! I know you well enough. You’re going to like it. I promise!"
You felt like a kid in a candy store, who had been given the keys to Willy Wonka’s entire kingdom. Glee was written across your features, you wanted everything to be perfect for your best friend. Steve was your trusty accomplice and you had invited Priya into the fold as a way to make up for your misdemeanors. She had suggested that you order food from Sticks and Stones because he loved the food there and even convinced Victor to help with the catering.
A week before the auspicious day, you had pulled Steve aside to ask him if he would accompany you to pick up Bucky’s birthday gift.
"Did you find it?" Steve asked you.
"The Glenn Miller vinyl?" 
Steve nodded.
"Yeah, I found it! It’s in a vintage records store in SoHo." You smiled.
"Bucky’s going to love it. His family would play them all the time, he was such a natural dancer. It would be nice for him to do that again."
"I’m glad it’s got Captain America’s seal of approval!" you quipped cheekily.
Steve rolled his eyes, feeling relaxed and happy for once. "Do you want to go and pick it up now? I’ll drive. I can pick up my gift at the same time!"
"Oh that would be great, Steve! What did you get him?"
"You know that picture you took, the one of Bucky, you, me, Nat and Sam?"
"Yeah, I know the one."
"I painted it. There is a guy who said he would frame it and he texted me this morning saying it was ready to collect.
"Steve! I can’t wait to see it!" you squealed with excitement. "Let’s go!"
Both of you set off, climbing the stairs that led to the parking garage.
"Oh, Priya, hey! Didn't see you there!" you smiled at her as you noticed her presence at the top of the staircase. 
Priya smiled back at you tersely. 
"Everything okay?" Steve asked.
"Fine."
"Do you need a lift home?"
"No, I'm spending the night with Bucky."
"Ahh," Steve blushed at the implication of sex.
You rolled your eyes and tugged on Steve's sleeve. "Come on, punk. See you later Priya!"
*
March tenth came around quicker than expected. You waited impatiently for Bucky to arrive as his 'surprise’ party. Even though Priya was distracting him, Bucky knew about the events that had been planned. You knew he didn't like loud noises or jump scares, but he had promised to act suitably surprised.
Everything for the party went off without a hitch. The room was filled with dozens and dozens of black and gold balloons. Swing music was playing on the gramophone that Tony had purchased for the occasion. Sam cheekily had a cardboard cut out of Bucky made with his vibranium arm cut off so you could play ‘Pin the arm on Bucky’. You groaned but secretly you wanted to beat everyone.
Thor had made an appearance and was already half way through the bucketful of Asgardian ale, which he claimed to have brought for the birthday boy. Even Ayo, who you'd invited, had graced you with her presence. When she arrived, you flung your arms around the reserved Wakandan warrior. The Dora Milaje did not engage in public displays of emotion, but for you she offered a hug in return.
Things seemed to be going well. Bucky arrived with Priya and was greeted with yells and streamers. Bucky's surprise was convincing… possibly a little too dramatic, making Priya laugh and you groan exasperatedly. You stood on the side of the room watching everyone mingle, enjoying how Bucky's attention was demanded from everyone in the room. His friends were kind enough not to crowd him, or overwhelm him, but also make him feel special all at the same time.
It warmed your heart to see the light in his eyes, the enjoyment on his face. Priya was glued to his side, stroking his hair, whispering in his ear. His arm was constantly around her waist. She was the only thing that marred your perfect vision of the event.
"I am surprised that James chose that woman," Ayo appeared beside you, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Jesus, Ayo. We've talked about you sneaking around. Don't make me tie a bell around your ankles!"
Ayo smiled. "Why isn't that you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why haven't you told James how you feel?" Ayo doesn't wait for your reply. "It could be you dancing with him rather than standing here looking like a wallflower."
"Maybe you could dance with me."
"I think not, Y/N." Ayo never used your nickname.
"Way to let a girl down gently, Ayo."
Ayo just rolled her eyes at you and ventured over to Thor who was challenging everyone to a drinking contest, one which no one was engaging in. Steve was beside him, sipping the liquor carefully enjoying the buzz he rarely got to experience. Wanda and Vision were lovingly embraced in each other's arms in a corner, dancing like the rest of the world didn't exist. Nat was behind the bar serving her own special cocktails and flirting with a blushing Bruce. Clint and Laura were laughing with Pepper, while Tony, Sam and Rhodey were playing cards and making the most outrageous noise. 
You loved your little found family, even though you missed the one that brought you up. Coulson's S.H.I.E.L.D. team had inducted you into the world of violence and espionage and aliens and time travel. It was with them that you'd learnt to control your powers and become worthy to call yourself an Avenger.
Agent Melinda May was the only member of the team you saw regularly anymore since she worked close by in the new S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy HQ. She had been your S.O. for many years and held a special place in your heart, despite her prickly exterior. She often joked that you would make an excellent addition to her staff at the Academy and to ensure that you lived long enough to accept the position when retiring from ‘that Avenger gig’. 
You were brought out of your reverie about the past by Priya, who was standing on a chair shouting about it being time for presents.
Everyone cheered and you were grinning like a lunatic now. You felt excited to give Bucky your gift. The first edition Glenn Miller record was safely wrapped in a solid casing. In the Mood was the last song that Bucky and his family had danced to while he had been on leave from the War. His last happy memory of them before he had fallen from the life he had known, before he had been thrust into a world of ice and torture.
About a year ago, you had caught Bucky using your Spotify to listen to music from his childhood and had offhandedly mentioned this piece of information about his past. You kept hold of this precious tidbit for the right occasion.
Bucky had already started ripping open wrapping paper when you ventured over. Wanda had knitted him a black scarf with golden threads to match his arm, which had made him smile. Next Sam handed him a small black box which Bucky opened to find a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs.
"Thought you could use some props, spice life up a little," he winked at Bucky. Sam had a way of pushing Bucky's buttons, but you could see the mild blush on Bucky's cheeks which deepened when Priya interjected. 
"Thank you very much, Samuel, but James and I don't need such tawdry things in the bedroom."
Bucky shrugged apologetically at Sam and you wondered if he was thinking about your recent conversation.
Sam was pushed aside by Thor, who deposited a large vat of ale into Bucky's arms. "Many happy returns, metal man." He patted Bucky on the back so hard that Bucky almost dropped his gift.
Bucky was depositing the alcohol on the gift table when he was approached by Ayo. "Happy Birthday, James."
"Thank you for coming, it means a lot that you took the time."
"You look like you are doing well for yourself."
"Yeah, it’s good," Bucky smiled.
"This is for you." She handed him a simple box with padding on the inside. Bucky opened it to find a pair of ornately decorated blades made from vibranium. Everyone gasped at how beautiful they looked in the dim lights. They collapsed in on themselves and were discrete and easy to conceal. Ayo pointed out a small device which acted like a homing beacon so Bucky would be able to locate them if he lost sight of them.
"These are incredible! Thank you."
Tony didn't have many words but he did hand Bucky a beautifully ornate envelope which Bucky opened tentatively. Inside was an invitation to a magnificent moonlit dinner on a yacht on the Hudson. Bucky held the gift reverently in his hands, his vibranium fingers barely gripping, as though their strength might make the gift crumble. His eyes glistened in the party lights, a thin film of unshed tears. There had been a time where they were ready to kill each other, and even now they never spent any time alone together. You knew that this gift meant a lot to Bucky.
"Dinner on a boat? I think we'll have to pass on that, I get sea sick." Priya commented, gazing at the gift certificate around Bucky's arm.
A flicker of irritation crossed Tony's face, before he grinned mischievously. "Not a problem, it's not person specific. Manchurian Candidate here can take anyone he likes. Capsicle might not be a fan of the food, but I think Cricket would really enjoy the cuisine."
He turned to wink at you, making you blush. You couldn’t help but notice the scowl on Priya’s face, no matter how short lived it was and you knew you were about to meet your comeuppance when the glowering look she was shooting in your direction turned into a beaming smile.
"Jamie! It’s my turn, baby. I have a very special gift for you!" She hands him a thin square shaped gift wrapped in shiny golden wrapping paper. "Here!"
You felt a sudden weight on your chest, a feeling of dread washing over you. It felt like things were moving in slow motion, watching Bucky unwrap the gift. You didn’t know what you had been expecting when he pulled out a shiny record cover. It was as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you, except you were paralyzed. The color drained from your face as you realized what the album was.
‘The Very Best of Glenn Miller.’
Bucky’s eyes shone brightly as he dropped the wrapping paper and ran his flesh fingers over the cover reverently. "Priya," he gasped in a whisper. "I- it's perfect." Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest and giving her a long, passionate kiss. "I love it! I love you!"
You barely noticed Steve sideling up to you, you couldn't hear him asking if you were okay. That was your gift. It was yours! If you didn’t have the vinyl you’d bought and so lovingly wrapped in your hand, you’d think she had stolen it from you. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, every attempt you made felt futile, like the air around you had left the room. He had shared the same things with her, you thought he trusted you with his past, but you weren't as special as you thought you were. 
Eventually you looked up when Steve put a gentle hand on your shoulder. He whispered, almost as though his words he was about to use were criminal. "Do you remember when we were talking last week? Before we went to pick up our gifts? You don’t think she overheard us… do you? And…"
In the end, it didn’t really matter. You knew in the moment that you’d lost Bucky forever. Everything felt far away, the room was suffocating, why were there so many people? Tears burned in your orbital sockets, drowning you from the inside out. You couldn’t face them anymore, seeing the happiness on Bucky’s face, knowing that someone else was responsible for that smile, that light inside him, was heartbreaking. Ultimately, you wanted him to be happy but you wanted to share that joy with him, you wanted to be the one to give it to him and watching that mantle being taken from you and bequeathed to another person was soul crushing. Gripping your present tightly, you slipped out of the room, Steve watching your retreating footsteps with sympathy, but knowing not to follow.
A few tears escaped as you found refuge in the kitchen, but you had no desire to explain red eyes and a blotchy nose to any of the other team members or party goers, so you wiped them away angrily, taking a few calming breaths before pouring yourself a strong drink. You sank onto a bar stool, shoving the record onto the chair to your right, you had no use for it anymore. There had barely been time for you to take 2-3 sips from your drink before Bucky popped his head into the room.
"Cricket? There you are!"
"Hey Buck! Having a good time?" You plastered a smile on your face, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Deception in this case was a futile attempt, Bucky was well versed in the movements of your face. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," you lied. "Just getting a drink."
"There are plenty of drinks back there."
He looked searchingly into your eyes and the facade you had erected was crumbling. You looked away, dropping your head to try and hide your face with your hair.
"It was just a bit much, everyone there… I don’t know, I feel a little… overwhelmed."
Too much drain of the social battery, Bucky was familiar with that. He pulled out the chair on your left, almost giving you a heart attack because you had momentarily forgotten which chair you’d left the present on.
"If you want to give me my gift here, we can do it privately. Everyone else is done," Bucky suggested, leaning towards you.
The smell of his cologne was intoxicating. Suddenly you felt angry that he was there, why couldn’t he give you a moment to grieve? Constantly invading your space, reminding you of what you couldn’t have, dangling the carrot but keeping it just out of reach. "Well you already have the perfect gift from your girlfriend, what more do you need?" You couldn’t keep the bitterness out of your tone.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. But the damage was done. There was a deathly silence between you where you were afraid to look at your best friend. 
"You know, I thought I would have you both in my life; my best friend and my girlfriend. I feel like you’re making me choose you over her and it’s not fair, Cricket! I’ve tried, I really have but you’re making it impossible! So you know what, I’m going to have to choose Priya. At least she bothered to put some effort into getting me a birthday gift. I can have a future with her."
The worst thing about his words were the disappointment and finality in his tone. And with that he left you alone with only your thoughts for company. A storm raged inside you, a maelstrom of emotions; anger, betrayal, abandonment, rejection, loss, just outright pain. How could he? How could he choose her over you? After everything you had been through together, the bond you had forged, the absolute faith and trust you had put in each other. Did it mean nothing to him? Did you mean nothing to him?
Trudging back to your room, you sought comfort in your giant bed, hoping it would envelope you completely. Wrapping the duvet around your body and over your head, you buried your face in a pillow and allowed the tears to fall. Once the gates had opened, the trickle of tears became a flood as you sobbed into your pillow to muffle the sound.
Why did he have to choose? Why didn’t he choose you? The pain in your chest was unbearable, a physical ache that matched the emotional turmoil inside you. You had tried so hard to make things work, to give him a balance of your friendship with his relationship with Priya, but now it seemed like all your efforts had been in vain. He had made his choice, and it wasn’t with you.
As you lay there in your bed, the tears continued to flow, a never-ending stream of sadness and heartbreak. You felt like a piece of you had been ripped away, leaving a raw, gaping wound in its place. How could you move on from this? How could you ever trust anyone again, knowing that they could just choose someone else over you?
You sighed, you knew now that you would never be good enough for him. Everything you’d tried to hold on to, had done nothing but push him away. You remembered when you had first understood your feelings, you’d considered pulling away to protect yourself. But Bucky had reeled you back in, constantly asking if he had done something to hurt you. So you’d given in, telling yourself you didn’t want to hurt him. But in reality, it had been selfish, you had indulged in a fantasy and ended up hurting the man you loved and getting hurt in the process.
You startled as a door slammed shut nearby. It was Bucky’s bedroom door, you could hear Priya giggling and Bucky’s deep voice through the wall. Your body froze with shock, the last thing you needed right now was to listen to your best friend having sex with his girlfriend. You shoved your airpods into your ears and turned up one of your lo-fi playlists and closed your eyes.
The decision you should have made then, was far more clear to you now. Your friend and old superior officer from your S.H.I.E.L.D. team had repeatedly offered you the chance to teach with her at the newly formed Coulson Academy. She had taught you everything you knew and believed in your ability to impart the knowledge you’d gained to potential agents. It was time for you to take her up on this offer.
As you wiped away your tears and made a decision to move forward, you knew that it was time to focus on yourself and your own happiness. Bucky had made his choice, and now it was time for you to make yours. You couldn’t continue to dwell on what would never be, on the pain of rejection and heartbreak.
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suiana · 1 year
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✎ yandere! dilf headcanons . . .
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✎ warnings . . .
― obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation(?), mentions of violence, implicated stalking and stealing, legal age gap, breeding kink 💀, etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! dilf who hired you as his son's tutor. he's just so worried that his darling son won't be able to keep up with school :( as a result you were hired to tutor him :D he actually doesn't know how you look like yet, but guessing from your profile picture you're a granny..?
✎ yandere! dilf who couldn't help but be enamoured with you the second you stepped inside his house. wait why were you so cute? didn't he hire an old- huh?! oh that was a picture of your grandma... oh well, he shouldn't have guessed. how else is he supposed to calm his boner now?
✎ yandere! dilf who's watering at your innocence. oh you're such a sweet thing! bright eyes sparkling with the desire to teach his son! your future son! he's so glad he's divorced... he's dead set on making you his beloved little thing. and you can't do anything to change it~!
✎ yandere! dilf who falls for you more and more with each tuition session. oh you just look so adorable! and that outfit you wore last session! it was so cute! he really had a hard time holding himself back you know? he's imagining tearing apart your outfit while marking you up now-!
✎ yandere! dilf who is older than you. I mean, he literally has a 15 year old son so it would be expected that he's old. but... he's still handsome! so you can consider him... right? oh please give him a chance! he'd hate to have to break you down completely :( yes he's that in love with you to the point where he won't mind breaking you down and rebuilding you to how he wants you to be ♡
✎ yandere! dilf who's extremely flirty and embraces his dilf-ness. rolling up his sleeves to expose his veiny forearms, unbuttoning his top two buttons to expose his defined chest, subtly flirting with you every time he sees you... just two tuition sessions ago he stood so close to you to the point where you could smell his cologne and see his man boobs?! you had to spend that entire tuition session clenching your fists just to focus. oh those sexy man boobs! his cleavage ! why is his body so sexy?! don't worry, if you wanted to touch he'll be more than happy to let you feel him up :)
✎ yandere! dilf who can't stop thinking about bashing in the heads of anyone who's glanced in you. no one should be taking in your divine self except for him and his son. those trash can't worship and love you like he does. hm... maybe he should just kidnap you? keep you all to himself. yeah, that sounds like a good plan.
✎ yandere! dilf who has a little shrine dedicated to you in his study. aw, how cute! it's just a small picture of you and a flower- wait is that your missing underwear? and is that your lost diary?! why's your entire schedule noted down with lots of hearts scribbled on it?! how'd he- there's no way he stalked you... right?
✎ yandere! dilf who gets his son to talk to you about how he's so lonely and wants another parent desperately... you're smart so you'll get what he means, won't you? after all, can you resist those watery eyes and the slight sniffling his son is doing? and he's sure you don't have any other tutees due to how much he's paying you already... so it's alright to be his, no?
✎ yandere! dilf who wants to breed you. it doesn't matter whether or not you can actually have children, he'll still want to breed you. imagining you round and full with his children... it just turns him on oh so much.
✎ yandere! dilf who really wouldn't mind a new addition to his family. I mean, for the past... 11 years it's only been him and his son :( and he finds it so lonely in his big mansion without anyone to accompany him... you understand what he's saying right? don't worry, you'll never have to lift a finger again should you accept his offer. he's rich after all :)
✎ "hn? oh my son did good, huh? should I reward you for being an amazing tutor? I know just how to thank you after all..."
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rynwritesreid · 14 days
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Okay, I'm obsessed with the Idea of a bisexual sunshine reader that is with Spencer but she meets Emily for the first time and Spencer expects her to be like 😆😁😌but instead she's like 🫣🫢😳 because Emily IS SO HOT and when they're alone Spencer goes like ''So you fond Emily attractive '' and she's like ''.. What ?..Wait, no.. Never..... yes''
A/N: I don’t know how, but you seem to be in my mind/drafts. I was already planning on writing a fic like this. I am planning on making my fic the part two to this, well as long as people enjoy this one. ;)
Summary: Basically what anon asked, but a little twist towards the end.
Content: fem!reader. Sunshine&bisexual reader. Fluff. No smut but 18+ only. Very little warnings for this. Definitely some implications towards the end.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
You and Spencer had been in a relationship for the past few months, and for Spencer it had been absolute bliss. You were basically everything Spencer wasn’t. You were always happy; you somehow always had a huge smile plastered on your face. You always seemed to make friends with everybody, and he had never witnessed you have an awkward interaction with anybody.
And maybe because of Spencer’s new and improved attitude at work, or how he didn’t always ramble on about recent statistics, or maybe it was because Spencer worked with FBI trained profilers, that they were able to deduce that he was in a relationship.
“So, Spencer, when are we going to meet her.” Emily smiled, knowing she had caught him off guard. Spencer's eyes widened slightly, his mind racing to come up with an excuse.
"Don't even try to deny it, Spencer. We all know there's someone special in your life," JJ interjected, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Spencer cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure.
"Well, um, we're still in the early stages, and I just want to make sure everything is... right before introducing her to all of you," he stammered, hoping they would buy his vague explanation.
But Emily wasn't buying it. She exchanged a knowing glance with JJ before turning back to Spencer with a sly smile. "Oh, come on, Spencer. We won't bite... much," she teased, causing Penelope to giggle from her spot at her computer.
Spencer felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he realized there was no way out of this conversation. Taking a deep breath, he finally relented. “Okay, okay. I’ll see if she if free this weekend. And she’s amazing, you guys will love her.”
*
“So, you’re ready to meet my friends?” Spencer was nervous as he glanced over at you, waiting for your response. You smiled warmly, reaching out to squeeze his hand in reassurance.
"Of course, Spencer. I'd love to meet your friends," you replied, your eyes filled with genuine excitement. Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him at your easy acceptance.
*
As Spencer walked you into the bar where his friends were waiting, he couldn’t help but feel happy. He already knew how this was going to go down, you would be your happy smiley self, and everybody would love you. 
As you entered the bar, Spencer's friends immediately noticed the radiant energy you brought with you. Penelope was the first to greet you, her smile just as bright as yours. "Oh, my goodness, you must be the one who finally stole Spencer's heart! I'm Penelope, it's so lovely to meet you!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug.
JJ approached next, a warm smile on her face. "I'm JJ, it's great to finally meet the person who's been putting that smile on Spencer's face," she said, giving you a friendly handshake.
As your eyes finally met Emily, you suddenly became very shy, a side to you that Spencer had only ever seen once, and that’s when you were telling him how much you adored him.
With a slight blush gracing your cheeks, you extended your hand towards Emily, who regarded you with a curious glint in her eye. "Hi, I'm Emily. Spencer talks about you all the time," she said, her tone friendly but carrying a hint of scrutiny.
You seemed to fade back into your shell, something you hadn’t done in a while. Luke and Tara also introduced themselves, but all you could focus on was your boyfriend and Emily.
Spencer was taking notes of how you were reacting, he knew that you had developed a crush on Emily. He wasn’t mad about it; she was an attractive woman, and you had always been open with the fact you were bisexual. He knew you wouldn’t act upon this crush; he knew you loved him.
*
Once you were in Spencer’s apartment, his hand on the small of your back as you seemed a little too drunk to walk properly, “so, you found Emily attractive, huh.” Spencer raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he teased you. Your cheeks flushed crimson, a combination of alcohol and embarrassment colouring your face as you stumbled over your words.
“What?? Wait… No, I would never. Well, I mean she’s just really… pretty.” you mumbled, avoiding Spencer's gaze as you plopped down on the couch. Spencer chuckled softly, taking a seat beside you, and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"You know, it's okay to find other people attractive," Spencer reassured you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. You leaned into his touch, feeling the comfort of his presence wash over you. 
Maybe it was the Dutch courage taking over you, “all night Spencer, all I could think about was you and her,” you paused for a brief second a small giggle coming out your mouth “doing whatever you both wanted to do, to me.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Is that so? You know, fantasies can become reality if you're brave enough to make them come true," he murmured, his words laced with promise.
Part two
~join my taglist~
I haven’t included a taglist for this specific fic, because I hadn’t put this on my google form. But if you’d like a part two/and to be added on a taglist for the next part please let me know:)
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shoyostar · 6 months
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MARY ANN.
── HAJIME IWAIZUMI ┊ HAIKYUU!!
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“Ginger or Mary Ann?” A common question referring to the old American sitcom from the 1960’s “Gilligan’s Island” that essentially asked what type of girl you were into.
content. childhood friend!iwaizumi / f!reader. fluff. cali!iwa. longterm pining. vv short. LDR (kind of?).
haikyuu!! masterlist.
❥ love letter from vie. i shit this out last night and i can’t bring myself to make it into a full oneshot rn so i just refined it a little . . .
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Culture shock is a funny thing.
Iwaizumi has no idea what his California classmates mean one day when they walk up to him after his lecture — new to the country and knowing only the bare basics of english when they ask him;
“Ginger or Mary Ann?”
Not knowing the implications of their question he shrugs unsurely, “Ginger” he says, thinking of the warm spice he uses when cooking meals, reminding him of his home back in Japan.
They click their tongues, patting him on the back and jeer about how he has good taste and invite him out to a bar that weekend. And Iwaizumi — still as unsure as before, accepts.
It’s now been a few years overseas. Iwaizumi is on his way to finishing his degree in Sports Science, eager to finally be rid of university and all the gripes that comes with it.
California took some time to get used to, it’s a lot more different than Japan in every way possible, only amplified by the reverse culture-shock that occurs whenever he visits Japan again for school breaks.
When he is reminded of you.
Standing at the airport, waving him over with a sign in his native tongue his feet move just a little faster than before, tired eyes lighting up as his carry on bag’s wheels drag on the floor and skid to halt when he reaches you.
Big, strong and tanned arms envelope you in a hug, Iwaizumi smells of hot sand and sea water always when he comes to visit, you’ve only learned to grow more fond of the scent each time you greet him.
You always make sure to visit the same areas you and Iwaizumi used to hang around at when you were little — as if Iwaizumi will never come back to Japan again. “For old times sake,” you say, even if Iwaizumi has told you he’s already planning to come back when summer hits because California summers are harsh.
Watching you wade around in that old creek searching for salamanders like you always do when he flies over brings Iwaizumi back to a simpler time in his life, and he is again reminded of that one question from several years prior by his friends.
“Ginger or Mary Ann?”
It took some getting used to, but Iwaizumi soon learned from his American friends, the ones he made by accepting their bar invite, what that peculiar question meant. Originating from an old sitcom, containing the names of two characters in the show — each displaying a different character archetype.
He’s even watched a couple of reruns of the show with them, where it was then they had told him it was the equivalent of asking what kind of girls he was into, and that his initial response, “Ginger,” did not mean of the spice but instead that he was into a more sophisticated type of woman.
Glamourous even, they’d say.
But after every school break, when Iwaizumi is forced to endure another 12 hour long flight back to California and back into the little pocket of sun and heatwaves, his friends ask him again with knowing smirks, “Ginger or Mary Ann?”
It’s a running joke at this point with their friendgroup, since Iwaizumi had no idea of it’s meaning the first time they always bring it up in conversation, cackling at how red he turns with embarrassment before the next topic is brought up.
But their little tease ignites something in Iwaizumi.
He thinks back to you, all the way in Japan, who is probably still going to that same old family run convenience store the two of you have been raiding of their snack stock since you were seven.
Thinking about how you probably still take that old shortcut behind the forest he found when he was eight to make it to the bus on time for work.
How you’ve always lived two doors down from him before he flew to California, always coming home from his house late into the night because you two were trying to catch fireflies during late spring in your teenage years, hoping to jar a few as a night light while camping out in his backyard.
Iwaizumi asks the same question thats been brought up several times before, once as genuine curiousity and others as just a tease.
Ginger, or Mary Ann?
And despite telling his American friends “Ginger” the first time they met, every subsequent question, jeer and laugh has been met with the same new response without fail.
“Mary Ann.”
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.
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meowzfordayz · 1 year
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when you grab their chest — akaza, douma, muzan, kyojuro, giyuu, tengen
Author’s Note: pardon the ridiculously long title. 🥴😂 “Fem!Reader” applies to Tengen only.
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when you grab their chest — akaza, douma, muzan, kyojuro, giyuu, tengen
Akaza x Reader, Douma x Reader, Muzan x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader
Word Count: ~900
CW: dark humor, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
Suggestion Fulfilled: I have a request😤 I recently read a certain ass slapping fic which I adored could you do a similar fic with the same characters +giyu and Douma with the reader coming up from behind the and squeezing their man tiddies
~faqs~
I 100% would’ve used MAN TIDDIES in my title, but figured Tumblr would hide this post from tags if I did, so I went w/ “chest” instead 😆
Also, some of these are canon compliant — Muzan, Kyojuro, Giyuu
While others are set in modern au (alternate universe; modern setting) — Akaza, Douma, Tengen
AKAZA
Immediately tenses
#noice 😌😎 after all, the man is ripped
The more Akaza tenses, the more you wanna squish
Except, it’s kinda hard to squish pure, flexed muscle ?? 😔
“Akaza, my love, could you relax?” 🥺
He’s still confused, but my love automatically has him at your beck and call, so-
He relaxes
*gleeful squeal* 😍 *squish squish* 😍
Aaand he’s tensed again
If you actually take the time to explain yourself, then he’ll be absolutely embarrassed flattered
Lowkey decides to do an extra 100 push ups daily, just bc he’s so darn in love w/ you 😭
DOUMA
Douma’s been waiting all his life for you to grab his moobs
So like
He’s one happy camper !!!!! 😌🥳
“all his life” = since he met you
As for “moobs”? I had to, just once 😃
Slowly flexes them so he can hear your amazed gasp 😍
“Are you drooling?” he smirks
“Fuck off,” you scowl
You try to withdraw your hands to wipe away your incriminating drool 😒🤤
But he doesn’t let you 🤪
He squeezes your wrists, grinning widely to himself, “Don’t leave me.” 😇
“But I’m done,” you grumble, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades (you’ve already accepted your fate 🤠)
“I’m not,” he retorts, “Not even close.” 🤗
Translation? Douma wants you to massage his pectorals
#pretty pls and ty
MUZAN
Once again, I’m presuming you’re a demon, and Muzan’s immediate reaction is to slice off your hands 💀
Thank gosh for regeneration! 😮‍💨
You’ve gotta quit surprising him 🤪
I mean
Yeah
He enjoys when you touch him 😅
BUT, he has a reputation to uphold, and being startled by your random displays of physical attention doesn’t exactly help 🙃
The implication that he lets his guard down w/ you (bc how else could you ever hope to genuinely startle him?) is making me feel things 😭
“Do that again, and I won’t be so forgiving.”
The faint dip between his brows has you thinking otherwise 🤭
“What if I ask first?” 😉
You’re treading on thin ice 😬
His eyes flash, “Pardon?”
Good thing he’s close to cracking too 😌
“If I ask to touch you?”
I’ll kill you “You wouldn’t.”
WeLp
He didn’t say No 🤗
(obvi consent’s a must, but in this specific context mutual flirtation’s strongly implied and also it’s literally Muzan)
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“Oh!” <— Kyojuro exclaims, cheerful as ever ☺️
“Hello there,” he chuckles, smiling at the feeling of your body pressed against his back, “Are you checking something?”
“Mhm,” you grin, “They’re still here!” 😇
“My pectorals?” his head tilts, “Of course they are?!”
He’s ~a little oblivious, okay? 😃
“How about you hug me from the front?” he suggests gently, “That way I get to hug you too!”
😭😭😭
He’s so precious
How could you refuse?????
Spoiler alert: you can’t
GIVE THE MAN HIS HUG 🥺❤️‍🔥
Spoiler alert: you give Kyojuro his hug, and it is very cozy 🥰
A tad sweaty + suffocating, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world 🥺
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Shocked 😵‍💫
Giyuu’s inner monologue: ????? What? Is? This?
Giyuu’s outer dialogue: *still as stone*
“Giyuu?” you immediately remove your hands, scurrying to his front side, head tilted w/ concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfort-” 😕
“You didn’t,” he interrupts quietly, finally grasping his bearings, “It was…” aaand now he’s blushing, “... nice.” 🥺☺️
Your nose scrunches, relief relaxing your shoulders as you nod sheepishly, “I’m glad I didn’t freak you out too much.”
“Mhm,” he smiles reassuringly, “You freaked me out,” gently guiding your palms back to his chest, “But not too much,” winking shyly at you, “The perfect amount, in fact.”
HELP !!!!! CAN YOU JUST CAN I  FWIBEIUVLNSOUEJGBWO;GNS
Suave, sexy, knows-what-he-wants, isn’t-afraid-to-tell-you, will-even-go-after-it-himself Giyuu has entered the chat
AnD I AM HERE FOR IT 😭😭😭💘
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LOUD LAUGHTER
You can feel it through his tiddies 😆
“Envious, my dear?” 😉
Okay
Presumptuous much? 😒
But alllso 🙄
“If you could share…” you pout, “Gimme just a lil?” 🤗
“You’re welcome to work out with me,” he chuckles fondly, flexing for you, “These could totally be yours!”
You sigh, “Tengen, pectorals and breasts aren’t the same thing.”
“I know that,” he shrugs, patting your knuckles reassuringly, “Your breasts are perfect, and I’m happy to coach you and your pectorals if you so desire.”
You decide to test the waters 🌊
“What if my pectorals get bigger than yours?” 😏
Tengen immediately drowns you 🌊💀
“Not a chance.” 😐
And then he tacks on, a tad nicer, “But you could certainly get very big pectorals.” ☺️
“Just not bigger than yours,” you grin 😏
He nods grimly, “My ego would pop.” 😔
“And that would be tragic.” ☹️
“Indeed,” he squeezes your hands (which remain splayed across his chest), still basking in your touch, “I appreciate your understanding.” 😖🥰
(fyi, if your pectorals did get bigger than Tengen’s, then he’d: survive, be super proud of you, and beg to know your workout regimen)
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genshin-scenarios · 2 months
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what flowers they’d give their s/o
Summary: A raffle request from my Adopt a Wanderer preorders! They’re a mix of genshin and HSR, but I’m posting it here as Wanderer’s included! If you'd like to see more HSR content from me, feel free to drop a request at @tiramisu-rambles! 
Characters: Wanderer, Luocha, Jingyuan, Aventurine, Sunday
Content warnings: implications of character death in Luocha’s part.
Adopt a Wanderer: Digital Store
Red String of Fate Prompt List
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Wanderer: Anemones
Sincerity, forsaken love, anticipation, protection from evil.
Just like the many versions of himself, anemones are windflowers with various meanings depending on their color. And despite the hurt Wanderer’s been through, his barriers are worn down by your honest intentions; your brightness, moments of quiet connection, and how you’re adored by many.
He’s glad the wind has brought him to you. These flowers may have a delicate appearance, but it’s obvious that neither of you are so fickle.
“They’re a protection from evil, apparently. Something about closing its petals when it rains.” 
“Really? In that case, I have a version of that already with you!”
It’s a bouquet made with multicolored hues, where he hands himself to you. A small thanks for acknowledging his past, and a few blooms that represent anticipation for the future.
It’s been a while since he’s been vulnerable enough to feel nervous about something. But it’s a more positive spin on the emotion, akin to excitement when he knows he’s going to see you — but Wanderer would rather choke than use a word so innocently childish to describe himself.
Due to its wild nature, anemones also symbolize relaxation and a reminder to enjoy the moment. To take in opportunities at the right time, as he’s learned from you.
Luocha: Marigolds
Resurrection, energy, good luck, warmth, prosperity, jealousy.
Luocha sees you in the warmth of the flowers, as powerful as the Sun despite your bubbly outlook. He sees the light, which makes him worry he might taint your smile with his true nature.
You thank him for the flowers, thinking of him as the miracle doctor that’s giving you a gift. He is, but he also hopes you don’t get closer without being aware of what he is.
Marigolds represent despaired love, although this is mostly on Luocha’s part as he constantly sidelines himself, making himself a ‘side character’ rather than a potential partner for you. But he’s too selfish to completely step out of your life, accepting your invitations to lunch and walks along the harbor. He says the world feels peaceful around you. It’s true.
These flowers are often associated with life and death. In this case, it’s Luocha’s silent promise to always protect you, even if you might not want it yourself. 
And if there comes a day where he has to pick between saving one or another… He’ll make sure you get out alive. Perhaps he’ll even save the bystanders around so you’ll keep calling him a wonderful doctor, before his powers fail to heal his own wounds.
Jingyuan: Forget Me Nots
Clinging to the past, faithfulness, remembrance, true love, fidelity.
‘I’ll keep you in my thoughts,’ they say. A warm sentiment from the General, and behind them the memories of all he’s gained and lost in the past.
Jingyuan is used to being alone. He’s a leader after all, who wears the air of one without a care in the world. He’s capable and busy, but what he says as a teasing remark contains words that can be read very differently.
‘Don’t forget me.’
Forget me nots also symbolize links to the past. For a long-life species, it’s easy to feel the days melt together, and beautiful sights aren’t as vivid anymore.
That’s why Jingyuan thanks you for letting him remember — remember what it’s like to be surprised again, to see the sky and find it breathtaking, along with your voice in the wind. He wants to remember all of this as long as he can, so he gives you these flowers on occasion to remind himself.
“Do you miss me that much, General?” 
“Of course. There isn’t enough time in the world to spend with you.”
He starts to appreciate his lifespan again, for having the chance to run into you along the way.
Aventurine: Daffodils 
Honesty, truth, forgiveness, appreciation. 
Despite the amount of lying and masks he wears, Aventurine knows there is truth in the anxiety he feels around you. The same feeling before a risky gamble, where he hopes his bluffs will deceive his opponent.
…He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever looked at him with disappointment. If he somehow managed to fool you into expecting something he cannot give; heart ringing hollow, echoing deeper and deeper in resonance every time you interact.
Perhaps one day this hollow ringing will actually turn into a heartbeat, and he can finally face you as Kakavasha. (Put aside the fact that despite his persona, Aventurine is still facing the world with honesty in every act).
He also chooses Daffodils because, in his attempt at excusing these sentiments, he simply thinks of you as his source of honesty and truth. A Sun that the flowers lean toward, after blooming each spring despite the desolate, cutthroat winter.
‘Please forgive me. Please don’t look away.’
Daffodils also symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, and good luck. Perhaps you can draw this out of Aventurine, who’s been on guard against the world for as long as he can remember?
Be the sunlight that sifts through the window, greeting him every day; a good-luck charm he continues to believe in.
Sunday: Violets 
Peace, devotion, healing. 
You bring him peace. With every smile you direct at Sunday, he feels hope that the world around him can be rebuilt. ‘You heal me,’ the flowers say. And despite how candied flowers dry bitterly on the tongue…
‘After all this is over, I’ll devote myself to you.’
He can’t be sure if you believe him, but Sunday has long disposed of the idea of predicting you. ‘It makes you human’, his sister once said.
Violets are reminders of loyalty, thoughtfulness, and dependability. Sunday looks out for you at every corner, even if his presence isn’t tangible. He notices your little victories and joys, feeling his heart twinge from the distance. And when your days are bleak, just know there is another soul mourning with you, playing a song to soothe your sorrows.
He’s devoted to you long before the drama of politics are done. In a sense, one can almost say he’s too caring — from a glance it appears he’s not bothered with you, and watch for a minute longer, the small, irrelevant commands given to his subordinates ring clear with thoughts of you.
Sunday doesn’t put a spotlight on his love, yet showers it with the adoration of the moon. Quiet, graceful, and just a bit selfish.
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