#that was the wildest fucking scenarios ever
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modern otome games dont do it for me anymore bc even though some of them let you pick pronouns/gender, theyre still heavily written for women (which is fair, its OTOME game for a reason, i stopped being their target demographic years ago) who specifically love to be dominated and/or degrated to different degrees, most of the time being seduced/whisked away lowkey against their will, which leads me to believe modern otome are the equivalent of those books for sexually repressed wives
#thinking abt the old otome i used to play#that was the wildest fucking scenarios ever#like#oh yeah youre the sultan's new adopted daughter#you can now bang his other adopted sons. who are extremely hot and into you#or hey. youre cinderella#straight up cinderella. pick a prince to marry and avoid some royal scandal and dabble in the world of politics#to avoid waging war against the other kingdoms#or hey. you had a car accident years ago and the ptsd makes you unable to sleep at night#its been like 10 years so your bestie recommends you hire a sleeping boyfriend who just helps you sleep#so its some guy counting sheep to you and finding out about your repressed trauma and coping mechanisms and helping you thru it#or hey#a star fell from the sky#thats a guy! he says hes your boyfriend!#the gods sent him to learn to be human so he doesn't become a shitty god when he grows up#OR NEKOMIMIS AVOID BEING HUNT DOWN BY POACHERS AND HIDE IN YOUR HOUSE#like theyre all wild but softer than whatever is happening nowadays#like with what in hell is bad. or obey me. or all those other specific demon otomes#like. there was one abt dating the reaper. an angel. or a demon. and in their routes theyre saving you from the other two#but you genuinely got to know them to such a personal degree it stopped being an otome at points like#what do you mean the reaper has abandoned the concept of friendship bc everything he touches dies#so hes torn between killing you to continue this cycle or saving you to prove hes more than a bringer of death#now its just#horny.... or the MC is useless.......
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The Eye of the Hurricane [5] - Unyielding
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Certain arguments can’t wait.
Word Count: 3600
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
For a couple of seconds, you could do nothing but stare at him with wide eyes, frozen in your seat.
“Excuse me?”
“Just hear me out before you grab your gun, it would—” he started but you scoffed and stood up from the lounge chair, the familiar anger rushing through you so fast that it almost made your head spin.
“Do you think this is funny?”
He shook his head fervently. “I’m completely serious.”
A dry laugh spilled from your lips. “Oh really?”
“Charm…”
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but my stupid little crush on you went away years and years ago,” you growled, glaring daggers at him. “You made sure of that, so if you dare assume for even a moment—”
“Oh my God, that was the wildest bachelorette I’ve ever been to!” Becca’s voice cut you off as she pushed open the door and stepped into the rooftop. “Also I’m pretty sure I’m in love now, so…” she stopped when her eyes fell on you two. “Uh, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you said after a beat and threw your shoulders back. “Did you just say you’re in love?”
“Yeah!”
Bucky stole a look at Becca. “Who did you fall in love with?”
“That’s a long story. What’s going on in here?”
You pursed your lips together, your heart still beating in your ears as you tried to focus through the fury, then cleared your throat.
“We were—”
“Y/N, we’re leaving!” you heard Ian’s voice and your head whipped around, then you cleared your throat.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss on her cheek in a rush. “Let’s get coffee at the usual place?”
“Uh, sure?” she said slowly and you walked out of the rooftop like someone was chasing you, without sparing Bucky so much as a glance.
The road back home was considerably quiet but it did nothing to silence the chaos in your mind. You had excused yourself to your room as soon as you got home, but after an hour of tossing and turning in the bed, you huffed out and kicked the covers off of you, sitting up in the bed.
This was nonsense.
There was no scenario in which you’d marry Bucky. You weren’t even sure you could spend more than half an hour together without being at each other’s throats, let alone being an actual couple—
Not that you had thought about it.
Much.
Fine, back when you were younger and Bucky hadn’t ripped your heart out yet, you used to spend a lot of time thinking about you and him ending up together. He was your best friend’s cool older brother and you were both heirs to your families’ empires, so your little crush let your imagination run wild.
And then he had broken your heart but after everything, even now, your imagination still liked to conjure him up in your dreams some nights.
But unlike before, you weren’t an idiot. You knew what kind of an asshole he was, so there was no way you could even entertain that stupid proposal, no matter what kind of a promise of power it held.
You rubbed at your eyes and got up from the bed, then padded your way down the hallway, then went down the spiral stairs. You stretched out your arms over your head as you followed the hallway to the kitchen where the light was coming from, as you knew it would, then peeked your head in.
Oh good.
It was just Jennifer, your genius chef who was now busy with making a sandwich on the counter while Ryan sat on one of the chairs, his hands clasped together, his back completely straight. Ryan was Ian’s right hand, -ex military, as much as you knew- but unlike Ian, he was much calmer and rational. He was tall and very muscular and didn’t like to talk much, and that added more to the air of mystery he held, considering no one seemed to know much about his past, or his personal life.
“Hey,” you knocked on the door, making both of them turn their heads. “Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all!” Jennifer said as Ryan stood up from his chair.
“Ma’am.”
“Oh don’t!” you motioned at him. “Please don’t stand up, I just…I couldn’t sleep so I figured—”
“Warm milk with honey and cinnamon?” Jennifer finished your sentence for you, making you smile and nod your head.
“Yes please,” you said and pulled yourself a chair, resting your elbows on the counter. Ryan eyed you, then sat down as well.
“There you go!” Jennifer said, putting the plate in front of him, then smiled at him. “Chef’s special sandwich.”
“Thanks Jen,” Ryan said, his voice gruff and Jennifer turned to you.
“Would you like one as well?”
“Ah no, thank you,” you said and heaved a sigh. Jennifer stole a look at you.
“Are you alright?”
“Too many thoughts,” you muttered, leaning your chin on your fist. “Ryan, are you married?”
Ryan’s head shot up as he chewed on his bite, then cleared his throat.
“No ma’am.”
“Any partner?”
“No ma’am.”
“He’s single,” Jennifer said with a grin. “And all my friends are very eager to change that.”
Ryan offered her an almost abashed smile and shifted his weight on the chair as if he was uncomfortable with the sudden attention while Jennifer put your glass of honeyed milk with cinnamon in front of you with a couple of cookies on the plate.
“Thank you so much,” you said as you took a sip, then bit on the cookie.
“Jen, you’re married and in love, right?”
“And I’m also the luckiest woman in the world in addition to all that,” she said, making you smile.
“Do you think people could get married to people they hate?”
“Why would anyone get married to someone they hate?” she asked and Ryan took a huge bite of his sandwich, looking between you.
“Common interests,” you said. “I don’t know, I had this strange thought…”
Jennifer tilted her head. “What?”
You heaved a sigh, then shook your head.
“Nothing,” you said. “Don’t mind me. Just some late-night thoughts, that’s all.”
*
By the time you met up with Becca, you still couldn’t stop thinking about last night and Bucky’s proposal, if you could even call it that. It was nonsense, you knew it was, but considering Becca was your best friend, the mere thought of keeping it from her was simply absurd.
“He proposed?” Becca asked, gawking at you. “He actually proposed?”
“Well it was technically a business proposal.”
“And a marriage proposal at the same time?”
You shrugged your shoulders while the waiter filled your coffee cup.
“You know…” Becca trailed off. “Hypothetically speaking—”
“You cannot tell me this is a good idea.”
“I’m not but think about it,” she insisted. “You and Buck already hate each other kinda, so you’re technically already married. You just skipped like ten years into it and got to the resentment part.”
“Becca!”
“You fight like a married couple.”
“If some married couple is fighting like me and Bucky, they should get a divorce,” you pointed out, leaning back in your seat. “I blocked his number, and just…ugh the nerve of the guy, can you believe him?!”
“Mm hm.” Becca said, sipping her matcha before checking her phone. “Oh thank God!”
“What?”
“Sarah is coming to the club this weekend,” she said and pointed at you. “So are you, right?”
“Yeah, me and Ethan.”
“What?”
“I’m bringing Ethan with me,” you explained. “I had to ditch him today, we were supposed to meet for lunch but as you can tell, this couldn’t wait.”
“My brother asking you to marry him even if you hate his guts? Yeah, that beats lunch with the cute ex.”
“And you know, since we’ve been texting a lot, I figured…”
“Yeah yeah, bring him over!” Becca said. “It’ll be fun—oh my God, so my brother’s audacity and ego aside, I need to tell you about the girl I met last night.”
“Yeah, I was going to ask you!” you said. “You said you were in love?”
“I am!” she said with a smile. “You know, I was thinking I could invite her and some friends as well, but now that I think about it, maybe I could just take a page from Bucky’s book and open with a marriage proposal.”
“Becca!”
“I’m just saying, we can just skip to the happily married part, flirting is a waste of time at this point and—”
“You’re not doing that!”
Becca let out a laugh.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Just because it didn’t work for him doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work for me.”
“It wouldn’t work for anyone, Becca,” you told her and she hummed.
“I’ll just say one thing about this, then I’ll talk about the love of my life, alright?”
“Alright,” you said and she turned her cup in the saucer, then clicked her tongue.
“You and Bucky being married is an absurd idea yes,” she said. “But he did have a point.”
“How is that?”
“Well, I’ll ask you the same thing my aunt asked me when I took my civilian boyfriend to my cousin’s wedding, and I have a feeling your answer will be different than mine.”
“Which is?”
She smiled at you mischievously.
“Do you want love poems, or do you want power?”
Your eyes shot up to hers before you shifted your weight, then motioned at her with your hand.
“Come on,” you said. “Enough about that. Tell me about the love of your life.”
*
You and Becca ended up spending the whole day together, and by the time you decided you would go back home, it was already dark outside. Watching outside as the driver drove you home, you leaned your head on the window, then felt your phone buzzing in your purse so you grabbed it, smiling slightly at the name before answering it.
“Hey there.”
“Hi,” Ethan’s voice reached you, and you could tell he was smiling as well. “How was your day?”
“It was good,” you said. “Full of romance.”
“Romance?”
“Becca is in love,” you said and he let out a whistle.
“Your best friend Becca?”
“Oh yeah,” you said. “I had to talk her out of looking at bridal shops, but we still went cake tasting.”
“Does this person know they’re getting married to Becca?”
“That’s just a small detail,” you joked, making him chuckle. “She invited her to the club for the weekend, I’m pretty excited to meet her. How about you?”
“Do you find data analyzing romantic?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then it was less romantic than your day.”
“And the hospital?” you asked and he took a deep breath.
“Oh everything is fine. Should be free of the bandages next week.”
You bit inside your cheek. “I still feel responsible—”
“Don’t,” he cut you off. “Seriously. The incident had nothing to do with you.”
“Mm hm.”
“Besides, you can’t really blame the rollercoaster if someone gets hurt on one.”
“No one is supposed to get hurt on a rollercoaster,” you pointed out and he thought for a moment.
“Okay in hindsight, it wasn’t the best analogy…”
You pulled your brows together. “Wait, am I the rollercoaster?”
“No! No, you’re sitting next to me on the rollercoaster,” Ethan explained. “We’re both riding it.”
“That’s not—” you started but a black sports car wheezed past yours and sharply drifted sideways as soon as it got in front of your car so that yours would have to stop.
“I’ll call you back Ethan,” you said and hung up the phone, your heart skipping a beat as you grabbed the gun from underneath the seat, looking to your right to see your bodyguards’ car stopping as well. The driver lowered the partition as the bodyguards stepped out of the car.
“It’s Mr. Barnes’ personal car, ma’am,” he said. “I know the plate.”
“Oh Jesus Christ…” you murmured as you put the gun back to where it was and opened your door, then stepped outside at the same time Bucky left his car. Your bodyguards hesitated as soon as they saw him, looking between you and you waved a hand in the air.
“It’s fine guys,” you said and turned to Bucky. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders as if nothing was wrong.
“You blocked my number,” he said. “It’s not like I can text you.”
“And what, it wasn’t enough of a clue?” you asked tersely and Bucky nodded in the direction of his car.
“Come on, get in. We’re going to talk.”
You crossed your arms. “Nope.”
“Charm for fuck’s sake…”
“I’m not going to talk to you, and I’m certainly not getting in your car.”
“You seriously want to do this right here on the road?”
You threw your hands up in frustration. “You are the one who’s blocking the road, motherfucker!”
You could see the petrified expressions on your bodyguards’ faces before one of them gazed up at the sky while the other one put his hands into his pockets and kicked at a tiny pebble on the road, both desperately trying to look like they weren’t hearing you two.
“Listen—”
“I will not,” you retorted. “What is your deal, seriously?”
“We need to talk about last night,” Bucky said and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the bodyguards exchanging glances, so you gritted your teeth and grabbed Bucky’s arm to pull him to the other side of the car in an attempt to get more privacy.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said through your teeth and Bucky ran a hand over his face.
“No I’d say there’s plenty to talk about,” he said. “I mean you didn’t even give me an answer—”
“That poor excuse of a joke doesn’t deserve an answer.”
“It wasn’t a joke to me.”
“Well, it was to me.”
He shook his head slightly.
“Just—” he said. “Why not?”
You raised your brows, gawking at him in disbelief and a look of realization dawned on his face before he heaved a sigh.
“Charm…”
You shot him a mocking smile, crossing your arms.
You and Becca sneaking into nightclubs wasn’t a new thing, and now that you were leaving for college in a month, you were trying to spend as much time together as possible. Becca threw her arm over your shoulder as you walked through the crowd to the bar.
“Two martinis please,” she told the bartender and he took a look at you two, but before he could say anything the other bartender muttered something into his ear, then motioned at you.
“Coming right up,” he ended up saying as you turned to Becca.
“So you were saying?”
“Yeah like, he keeps saying he’s too busy but I’m not buying it—ugh, you gotta be kidding me!”
You frowned, then followed her line of sight to see Bucky and Steve stepping outside from the other exit that led to the back alley behind the club, your heart starting to beat faster.
“Where are they going?”
“They’re probably gonna beat someone up, who cares?” Becca said with a shrug of her shoulders. “He’s in such a mood nowadays, I’m not even gonna let him know I’m here. Arrogant asshole.”
You tilted your head. “…Oh?”
“He and daddy had a huge fight the other night,” she said as she took the drink from the bartender while he put the other one in front of you. “Like my mom had to step in because they were at each other’s throats, that kind of a fight.”
“Why?”
Becca shrugged again. “It’s probably about business. The golden heir made a mistake I guess.”
You took a sip of your drink. “Interesting.”
“Yeah and then he went and broke up with Laura.”
Your head shot up. “They broke up?”
“Yeah!” Becca said. “Which, I’m not sorry at all because she was so annoying, but no girl in the world deserves to get dumped by Bucky so I have mixed feelings about the situation.”
You could feel the small glimmer of hope warming your chest and you pursed your lips together, then cleared your throat.
“I just—I forgot I was gonna call my dad, he gets so mad when I don’t let him know,” you said. “I gotta step outside for a moment, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay!” Becca said and you made your way through the dance floor before reaching the second exit, but before you could open the door, Steve had already beaten you to it.
“Y/N,” he said when he saw you. “Hey.”
“Hi,” you smiled at him. “Um—have you seen Bucky?”
Steve looked over his shoulder, then turned to you with an apologetic smile.
“He’s not…” he trailed off. “He’s not in the best mood.”
“Oh that’s okay,” you said and pushed the door open before he could say anything else, then stepped outside, holding your phone for the sake of appearance. When you saw him, Bucky’s bodyguards were dragging a nearly unconscious man out of the alley while he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a tissue, then lit a cigarette.
You could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you bit down on your lip, fixing your dress before clearing your throat.
“Bucky?”
He turned his head when he heard his name, then exhaled the smoke.
“Hey Charm,” he greeted you, making your heart skip a beat. “Is Becca here too?”
You bit inside your cheek, trying not to get discouraged by that, then nodded your head.
“Um, yeah we just got here.”
“Great,” he murmured. “Tell her not to drink too much, will you?”
You nodded again and smiled at him, your hand shaky a little as you fixed your dress again, desperately hoping it looked good on you.
“I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Yeah well, here I am,” he said, taking a drag of his cigarette, leaning back to the brick wall and you licked your lips.
“And are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Oh, just...” you stammered. “Becca mentioned you and Laura.”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Happens. I’m fine, it was my call.”
Dear God, he was so handsome that you could just stare at him for hours.
“Are you going to that gala thing as well?” you asked, nervousness pulsing through your system. “My dad is basically dragging me there, is George doing the same?”
His jaw clenched at the mention of his father, and he nodded quietly, exhaling the smoke.
Your voice was trembling a little, your throat incredibly dry because of the nervousness mixed with anticipation, but you still managed to get the words out.
“So I was thinking, do you—um—do you wanna go together?”
That managed to get his attention and he pulled his brows together, then let out a dry laugh.
“Jesus Christ…” he muttered. “What, you rushed here as soon as you heard about me and Laura? Seriously?”
You pulled back slightly, your stomach doing a flip and you shook your head.
“No, I just—”you stammered, tears stinging the back of your eyes already. “I was just thinking—”
“Listen, I know you don’t see it right now, but this little crush of yours is just…” he trailed off with a small chuckle, motioning between you. “It’s kind of adorable, but it’s not going to happen. If I go to that gala with you, you’ll get your hopes up, so will everyone else around us and I’ll end up trapped in something serious—which is out of question. I can’t trust you with the business, not when you’d probably report everything back to your own family and I can’t afford a mistake, not right now.”
You tried to blink back the tears, staring at him as he threw the cigarette butt on the ground, then put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
“Not to mention,” he said. “I don’t go for daddy’s spoiled whiny princess type, and you’d be better off with a nicer guy anyway.”
You could feel the sobs threatening to climb up your chest, so you sniffled and turned around to rush back into the club, leaving him there before he could say anything else.
“Don’t tell me that’s the reason,” Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you arched a brow.
“I said nothing.”
“It was what, almost ten years ago?” he asked. “I was an idiot—”
“I am really not interested in whatever this bullshit is,” you told him. “And I’m going to be late for dinner, so…”
“Just hear me out first—”
You looked over your shoulder and motioned at the driver. “Turn the car around please!”
The driver did as you asked but before you could step away from Bucky, he grabbed your arm.
“Charm, I can help you get the power you want,” he insisted as you rolled your eyes. “You might hate me right now, but you know I can do that. Just let me get you that crown.”
“We’re done here.” You yanked your arm out of his grip and walked to the car but stopped when you reached it, turning your head to look at him.
“I’m not going to marry you Bucky,” you called out, fully aware that the bodyguards could hear you, and the mere thought gave you a strange sense of satisfaction. “I would never marry you. I don’t go for the arrogant asshole type, and you’d be better off with a nicer girl anyway.”
With that you got in the car, and the driver started driving as soon as you slammed the door shut, the car gliding down the road smoothly.
“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself and leaned your head back, closing your eyes. “The fucking audacity.”
Chapter 6
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky x reader#mob! bucky#mob boss!bucky#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky barnes x reader#mob bucky#mob bucky barnes#bucky x reader#mafia bucky x reader#mafia!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes#mob au
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I gotta say, one of the wildest radical transphobes' talking "points" is probably bathroom discourse. I can't even put to words how utterly detached from reality it is. It's terminally online stuff.
So, bathrooms. I don't know if somehow other people's realities are somehow vastly different from mine, but I feel like the extreme clear divide between "men's" and "women's" bathrooms is just not real. Where I live, stalls are often gendered, but how much they get used in that way is far less consistent.
For example: If the place had only the space to make one bathroom accessible, it's gonna be the women's bathroom. Always. It doesn't mean only disabled women have access to bathrooms- It means that the women's bathroom is also going to be used by disabled people. And this is common. Really common. Maybe it's because the women's bathroom tends to need more space- For pad dispensers and trash cans, for baby-changing stations (yes, I hate that these are only on the women's bathroom usually), and so on. Now- You see a guy enter the women's bathroom. Are you gonna micro-analize if the guy looks disabled enough to use it, or are you going to wash your hands and go on with your life?
Again, baby-changing stations are almost always located on the women's bathroom. It sucks- It should be in all bathrooms. But it's how it is. You see a cis guy enter with a kid. Or maybe not even with a kid- Just enters, wanders around, finds the baby-changing station, gets a diaper from the dispenser and leaves. Are you gonna throw a fit or just let this guy handle his kid?
Bathrooms get cleaned on the regular. A lot of times, you may wanna go there, and get told it's being cleaned, and just get asked to use the other gender's bathroom. Cleaning can take hours. If the men's bathroom is being cleaned and everyone is now using the women's, are you going to deem the bathroom to be the world's unsafest place or are you just go take a pee and leave?
Fucking hell, sometimes the stall you want to go to is incredibly dirty. It happens. No need to get on details. Just the kind of stuff that makes you want to not use it. Or maybe it's clogged, or maybe it's not working. Maybe there's a note saying "Broken, do not enter". Do you cry about it or just go find another stall- Which may be on the other fucking gender's bathroom?
Most times I'll use whatever bathroom is available. One is busy? Ok, let me get to the other one. I'm AFAB and while I don't present femininely, I still look like a woman to most people. Have I ever been in danger because I cleaned my hands besides someone with a dick? No. Grow the fuck up. This isn't even rare. People will switch bathrooms for speed. People will switch bathrooms because one of them is out of paper. Because one of them is out of soap.
The mall in my current city recently installed "Family" bathrooms. They're not being marketed as unisex, or inclusive, or anything. Just "family" bathrooms. For everyone. They're great. It's the bathroom everyone will use- Men, women, anything in between and outside of that, kids, disabled people, etc. There's a bunch of stalls adapted to different needs. There's accessible stalls. There's pad and diaper dispensers. There's stalls that have a big toilet and a little toilet so parents can go with their kids. There's tall sinks and short sinks- So disabled people and kids can reach.
And, to nobody's surprise, there's no reports whatsoever of any sort of assault in them.
I'm just. I don't know. I'm sorry you can't detach the existence of a dick near you from immediate assault. I don't know why that changes in the context of a bathroom- I've never (in my long life of using whatever bathroom) been in danger for that. And I'm talking as someone who has had some unsavory experiences in other situations. Grow the fuck up and maybe stop basing your views on imaginary scenarios y'all need to come up with to justify your hatred of a minority. Maybe if y'all got off your keyboards and went outside for once, you'd realize bathrooms work much differently from whatever weird ideal you have formed about them.
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Dreams
Love is: Having hope for the future together.
a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!
WC: 560 | Rating: G
ao3 link
Eddie has always been a dreamer. Even when all the odds were stacked against him, he had high hopes for his life. Always thought he was bound for more than being a high school drop out that lives in a shitty trailer. It’s why he suffered through two extra years of high school in the first place. It’s what had him practicing his guitar for hours a day. Convinced if he worked hard enough, if he was the best, he could do it. He could get out of here. Play music and make money. Maybe buy Uncle Wayne a real house. Finally repay him for everything he’d done for him. Make up for being such a little shit growing up.
What Eddie didn’t ever see in his dreams was Steve Harrington. He seemed too unattainable even for his wildest scenarios. Eddie would have laughed in your face if you told him that, one day, he would be laying next to Steve, sprawled out in his bed. That he’d let out a content sigh when he feels Eddie’s fingers trail across his skin. That he’d look at him like he hung the fucking moon. That Steve Harrington would one day tell Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson that he loves him. That Eddie would believe him. But now, as he lays here, staring into Steve’s eyes, he can’t stop the dreams from growing inside him.
Dreams bigger than he’s ever imagined before. Dreams completely wrapped up in Steve.
He wants to give his boy the fucking world. Wants to get him away from this place that ripped them to shreds. Wants to show him he already has the family he’s been searching for. Buy him that fucking RV and load it up with their giant mismatched, makeshift crew. Eddie wants to buy him a house big enough to be the home base of the group. Let him be the one the group flocks to for holidays and big events. And Eddie knows they will. Because it’s Steve. And he may not realize it, but he’s the glue. The kids all adore him. Hero worship that Steve doesn’t see. But Eddie does. As much as they tease him and give him a hard time. He sees it in their eyes. Steve put his life on the line for them. Over and over. He was the babysitter. That’s a bond that stays put.
Eddie never thought he’d end up being one of those people who revolves their life around their significant other. Never thought he’d find someone that stuck around long enough, honestly. But all his plans are now their plans. He can’t imagine doing any of the things he’s dreamed of for so long without Steve, now. It wouldn’t be worth it. He knows, as much as he wants more, wants a life bigger than Hawkins, he’d be content if none of it happens, as long as he has Steve.
Most of all, Eddie wants to make sure he’s happy. Because fuck if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Steve Harrington. Even if it means listening to shitty pop music in the car, or having Robin Buckley interrupt them constantly, or playing chauffeur to the gremlins everyday. Barely getting a moment to themselves. It’s worth it to see the way Steve’s eyes sparkle when he smiles.
Eddie would do anything to see that smile.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fanfic#lady lostmind#steddielovemonth#day 12#love is having hope for the future future together
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what’s the wildest thing mfal jeno has ever done? (including before y/n) 🫣
mfal! jeno orgys + threesomes
smut
(huge thank you to @siordior for massively helping me and giving me ideas. she wrote out this, i kept some parts the same and some different🥰) now this is mfal!jeno before yn so… yeah good luck
before he met y/n he was fucking crazy. he took drugs, getting high, drinking and having his cock buried in ass or someone’s pussy seriously
the wildest thing? he hosted an orgy once. he was just so incredibly high this one time and so fucking horny, he just wanted pussy so he’s consensually blindfolded and naked and ready to be used🥵. it’s girl after girl for the whole night, he’s getting his cock sucked, girls are riding him, sitting on his face until eventually it all feels so good and eventually a group of girls gather him and yeah :) suddenly he’s being used and fucked everywhere and in every single possible way you can think of. he’s busy with it. there’s like 3-4 girls on him. ones riding his cock, he’s fingering one girl with his left hand and fingering the other girl with his other, he’s playing with their tits and someone’s sitting on his face and he’s eating them out, tongue moving like a starved man. another girl riding his thighs… it’s sex heaven for him. he genuinely came about 5 times and made every single girl cum.
and threesomes. my man used to be obbessed with him. he’s been in loads before yn 🥰 with 2 girls, 1 girl and 1 guy. yeah! let me paint the scenario of one of the moments it happened. it was at one of his parties and he couldn’t take his eyes off a really sex girl wearing a slutty little dress, his eyes were glued on her ass and her long beautiful hair that trailed down her back. he legit got hard watching her dance seductively and the way her tits bounced up and down as she danced. it’s jeno so he just goes over, confident and not ashamed. and the girl is for it!!
i mean it’s lee jeno, anyone would go crazy. at neo tech university he’s a big deal. they grind against each other, his hands all over her as they dance, he’s hard and grinding it against her ass, making out heavily, literally the only thing between them was their clothes. jeno legit just carries her, her legs around his waist and they make out, grinding and dry humping and he takes her upstairs to his room. but surprisingly there’s another woman laid out on his bed wearing a sexy lingerie? her legs wide open for him and she’s moaning his name, probably impatience at how long he took. he’s like??? oh???? he forgot he was gonna fuck this girl earlier. she’s about to leave but he smirks and just shakes his head and the three of them… yeah. the two girls know they’re about to get pussy destroyed and that they’re gonna have to fight over him. girl no 1 (girl he danced with) is on her knees for him and unbuckling his belt then licking his cock through his boxers while girl no 2 (the girl who stayed on his bed) made out with him.
jeno’s hands move to feel both girls up, squeezing their tits, slapping their asses. then he detaches his lips from girl no 2 and makes out with girl no 1. he gets so horny and hard seeing the situation he’s in, seeing the power he has over them. they both drag jeno to the bed and girl no 1 undresses herself as jeno slaps her ass and squeezes her tits again and rubs his hard cock but then girl no 2 trails kisses up his body and takes off his pants and boxers. girl no 2 gives him a blue job while girl no 1 sits on his face and he eats her out. one of his hands is tying girl no 2’s hair out of the way in a makeshift ponytail so she can suck his cock and he’s slapping the ass of girl 1 as she sits on his face.
and listen??? he loves it when the girls fight over him. when they fight about who’s gonna make him cum, about who gets to ride his cock, who gets to do what. he loves having the two girls laid out on the bed naked and tied up and then he’ll fuck one and make the other watch, fuck the other and make the first one watch then fuck them both :p or have both their heads off the side of the bed and make them both suck his cock 🥰
jenos loud, he grunts and is very vocal during sex. but the girls?? he always has them screaming, unable to walk. the entire party hears. he pulls girl no 2 on to his lap and rips of her bra and starts lapping on her tits. then jeno reaches for girl no 1 and makes her sit on his other thigh and fingers her
girl no 1 will trace his biceps with their lips, kissing and licking it until they fuck themselves against his biceps and girl no 2 will do the same with his abs. he wraps his hands around girl 2s thighs and moans when he feels girl 1s tight pussy, his moan makes his tongue vibrate around girl 2s pussy making her whimper although he didn’t have a proper view of the both he felt immense pride over the fact that he was able to make both of them feel equally as good- GOD😭
#jeno smut#jeno x reader#nct dream#nct#nct jeno#jeno fluff#nct dream jeno#jeno#nct 127#jeno imagines#jeno angst#jeno moodboard#jeno icons#lee jeno#nct fluff#nct reactions#nct fanfic#nct imagines#nct smut#nct scenarios#nct u#nct lee jeno
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Wildest dreams, part 18
Summary: Waking up, Y/N expected to find herself in Paul’s arms. Instead, she found herself clinging to bed sheets and an empty bed.
Warnings: fluff, angst, sexual content, swearing
Wildest Dreams Masterlist
————————————
Paul promised he’d be there when her eyes opened. She remembers his words clearly, that wasn’t a dream. They made love, he drove her to the brink of madness and back and then he promised to be there when she wakes, so where the hell is he now?
A lump forms at the back of Y/N’s throat as she sits up, clinging to the bed sheets carrying his scent. It’s unmistakable – his promise is broken. Paul isn’t by her side, he’s not even in the room.
Inhaling sharply, her chest shudders. Closing her eyes she licks her lower lip before catching it between her teeth. Part of her wishes she could stop time and stay in that moment he held her so close that nothing stood between them – not even air could penetrate the tight bond between their bodies as they surrendered every atom of their beings to each other.
But she can’t stop time and he’s gone.
Why?
Where?
Swallowing thickly, she throws the sheets aside and stands. It doesn’t make sense. If he wanted to run, he could have done so sooner. He wouldn’t do it to her now. She refuses to believe he’d do it on purpose. Something must have happened.
Putting on her clothes, she shivers. Cold always finds her, sinking its hooks in her skin, spreading underneath violently until her muscles tremble in an effort to generate some warmth to battle the ice in her veins. Paul keeps the cold away, but without him it’s like falling through the ice into the freezing water below.
Checking her phone, she finds no new messages. Not from Paul at least.
Jacob sent dozens of texts. Embry had sent a few as well, and even Emily tried calling. She remembers her phone vibrating last night but in that moment the world could have been coming to an end and she’d refuse to acknowledge it because being with Paul was enough for her. If it was the end, she was already with the only person she’d watch it all burn to nothingness.
Huffing, she dials Paul.
From nowhere came the sound of a cellphone ringing, a classical cover of “Stay with me” by Sam Smith echoing the room. It’s on the nightstand on Paul’s side of the bed, her photo flashing on the screen.
Her heart quickens, eyebrows furrowing. He didn’t just leave, he wouldn’t have left his phone or her. Not after last night.
Rushing downstairs, she pops into the kitchen first. “Paul?”
He’s not here.
“Paul?!” She calls out, her heart dropping as the silence continues. “Fuck”, her hands begin to shake as she opens Jacob’s messages first.
“Is everything k?”
“Call me if u wanna talk”
“If u don’t wanna talk, just text me back, pls. Just so I knw ure home.”
“I’m getting worried”
“I’ll call ur dad. If you dnt text me back, I will.”
“Y/N wtf, I called ur dad and he says ure not home. Call me ASAP!”
“Paul’s not answering either and I’m seriously starting to panic”
“I’ll stop by his house to check on him and then I’ll look 4 u”
“I heard enough to traumatize me for the rest of my life. Glad you’re ok.”
Rolling her eyes, she chews on her bottom lip. She hoped to get a “We had an emergency, sorry to steal your man so early in the morning” text, something that would pacify her, but she’s never been quite good at finding herself in situations that had no answers when her mind would jump to worse case scenarios.
“I’m not paying for therapy. Just wanted to check if you guys had patrol or some vampires to chase this morning?”
Dropping back on the couch, she stares up at the ceiling. Who would have known she’d find herself falling for the biggest playboy she’s ever met, that he’d turn out to be her cosmic love and that she’d go from wishing never to see him again to wishing never to lose him? It’s incredible how unpredictable life can be – one moment can change it irreversibly, one person can make it so you never look at anything you’ve known the same way.
“No. Sam’s out with the pups. Why?”
Shaking her head, she bounces her right foot on the floor. Something’s not right. He wouldn’t just leave her like this – no note, no text, hell, his phone’s still in the bedroom.
“I can’t find Paul”
“What do you mean you can’t find him?!”
She snorts at the way Jacob’s text become proper and grammatically correct whenever he’s angry, same as it used to be. He used to teach her slang and how to shorten words to make texting easier back when each text cost and they had character limits. She’s never quite liked it, finding ways to shape her thoughts in a different manner rather than using Jacob’s ridiculous one letter words.
“He said he’d be here and he’s not and his phone’s in the room”, she grimaces before walking to the window. Pulling the curtain aside, she sees his Jeep in the driveway. “His car is here too.”
It took less than a second after the Seen for Y/N’s phone to ring, Jacob’s name plastered over her screen.
“Tell me everything”, Jacob says, his breathing almost ragged.
“I doubt you want to heart everything”, Y/N reminds him.
“I didn’t mean the part where you two fucked, I mean after”, his voice is low, still raspy. He must have woken up because of her text.
“Before we fell asleep, he promised me he’d be here when I woke up. He wasn’t. I called his phone and it frickin’ rang in the fucking room. I looked around the house and he’s not here. His stupid fucking Jeep is in the driveway and I’m starting to freak out because there’s no way in hell he’d just leave the house without anything on him.”
“Look, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there soon and we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”
“Jake”, she pauses.
“Don’t tell me not to come. I know we still have a long way to go before we get back to that friendship we had growing up, but I care about you and you’re upset and despite common sense, I care about Paul too. So, stay there. I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, Jacob immediately called Embry.
“What do you want”, Embry grumbles.
“Better wake up Mr. Sunshine, because we might have a situation on our hands.”
“What kind of a situation?”
“Paul’s gone.”
“Gone? Gone how?”
Rolling his eyes, Jacob grabs his helmet and heads to his old bike. “That’s what I’m not sure about. Y/N called and she can’t find him.”
“He’s probably off somewhere licking his wounds from last night. Remember when he found out Y/N moved away for college? He went into the woods for weeks and never spoke of her after he came home. And that’s BEFORE he imprinted on her.”
“I remember it just fine”, Jacob sighs.
“They fought and he’s imprinted on her, so I’m not worried. He’ll come back soon.”
“But they didn’t fight”, Jacob interrupts, “quite the opposite.”
“Huh?”
“I wanted to check on him last night and…those weren’t the sounds of a couple fighting.”
“What are you….oh….OH!”
“Exactly the sound she made last night. Several times.” Jacob grimaces. The last thing he needed was to hear his best friend moaning as she was getting frisky with Paul Lahote. If there’s something his younger self would never believe, it’s that Y/N would ever let Paul’s penis anywhere near her and yet it was quite literally attached to her last night and his stomach churns at the thought.
“Where the fuck is he then?!” Embry raises his voice and Jacob sighs.
“That’s why I’m calling you now. Shift and see if you can find him. I’ll go to his house and find Y/N before she spirals.”
“Be careful about it”, Embry warns.
“What are you trying to imply?”
“I know what goes through your head when Y/N is involved. I knew back then and I know now.”
“She’s in love with Paul. I’ve imprinted on another. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“I really wish I could believe you.”
“Get going, Em. Paul might be in some deep shit and I don’t want to look her in the eye and say we couldn’t help him because we spent too long talking about things that will never happen.”
“I’ll call if I find anything.”
Inhaling sharply, Jacob pockets his phone and puts his helmet on. He’s not delusional to think he would ever be a viable option to Y/N, nor would she ever be a choice he could embrace with his own imprint being out there in the world.
What Jacob does know is that Paul adores the ground Y/N walks on, has been since before any of them truly knew it. She’s in safe hands with Paul. For now, at least. While he’s gone, for whatever reason it may be, Jacob will step in and make sure the fate Paul saw while imprinting doesn’t befall her in his absence.
It didn’t take long for him to drive up to Paul’s house. Taking a good whiff, Jacob frowns. There are no unfamiliar scents lingering around. If a vampire came close, half the reservation would reek for hours. All of the wolves would be out, tracking down the source. But there are no vampires here. It smells distinctively of Paul and Y/N.
It’s painstakingly obvious they’re imprints based off their smell alone. Paul has a woody smell of pine clinging to him from his work in the lumberyard and all the time he spends in the woods as he patrols, while Y/N has a floral scent – a mixture of lilacs and lilies. Woody and floral – complementary in every possible way.
Shaking his head, his jaw clenches. She’s his best friend, she’s always been his favorite human being, the only one who could see who he is through all the bullshit walls he’s built over the years. Y/N has always understood him at his core, supported him when he needed her without even having to ask for it, pushed him to be better when all he wanted was to avoid the world and when he left her after shifting, it felt like he was taken apart with every passing day.
When they told him he’s never to talk to her again, Jacob accepted his fate but he would follow her home, terrified of something happening to her. He was always there, sun, rain or snow, Jacob was following her from the tree line, ready to step in. Y/N didn’t know, but he would have done anything to ensure she’d live a long life, even if it meant she’d hate him longer.
It’s depressing it took so many years for her to finally find out the truth. He’s been away, tied to his imprint instead of his best friend ever since Bella gave birth. In a way, he’s resented Renesmee for taking him away from his home…from Y/N. He never asked to imprint, if he could choose not to, he wouldn’t have an imprint.
For years, Jacob’s tried figuring out the purpose of him imprinting on a vampire hybrid baby that he felt no true romantic affection for. He’s felt duty, he’s felt protective after watching her grow up before his eyes. Despite what most imprints feel, Jacob only ever felt like a parental figure. He loves her, he does, but he’s not in love with her and he doesn’t see that changing. Ever.
Unlike Renesmee, Jacob’s loved Y/N his whole life and yes, there are dormant feelings always lingering somewhere inside. She was his first friend, the first person he danced with, his first kiss. She was the first person he could be vulnerable with, the first person he could act stupid around and the only person he could come to with his hands bloody and know he would face no judgment.
Making his way to the door, Jacob smiles when the door open wide before he even reaches them. Y/N’s standing in the doorway, her lips pressed in a thin line, her arms opening immediately and without a second thought, Jacob allows her to wrap those loving arms around his neck.
Holding her close, he breathes through his mouth in an attempt to ignore how strongly Paul’s scent clings to her, overpowering the freshness of her own scent Jacob was once addicted to.
“It’s gonna be okay”, Jacob whispers in her hair, closing his eyes as his grip on Y/N tightens. And that was a promise. One way or another, Paul will come back and Jacob will watch from the sidelines how in love his best friend is with the very man she once detested. He’ll watch and he’ll witness their ups and console her when they’re at their lows, but he’ll never let her see the pain it will bring him. She’ll never see the worry in his eye whenever he’s not around her for he never knows when it’ll happen.
It’s inevitable, Jacob of all people knows.
When he imprinted, Jacob saw his life with Renesmee. He saw himself by her side as she grew, taking her to school, taking photos of her and her prom date, waiting up for her when she snuck out to a party. It all came true. He saw himself walking her down the aisle with Edward, babysitting her son, growing older while she remains younger. That’s yet to happen, but it will. At some point in his life, he will give up shifting and he will age and one day, he’ll be free of this life for good.
If his visions were true, if every other wolf’s visions happened just as they did, so will Paul’s.
Jacob will do everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t, but in his heart he knows his time with Y/N is limited, therefore too precious to ever tell her his heart is like sand in which her footprints will never be erased by waves of the ocean of time.
_______________________
Tags: @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @llovergirlll @adaydreamaway08 @sunsetevergreen @volturiwolf @twihard08 @galacticstxrdust @sorrow-and-bliss @ireadthensuetheauthors @missxmarvelous @locokoca @unstablekay @makhaia @venusdelaroix @avadakadabra93 @tearsforhan @a-marie-a @lendeluxe @seagulls-corner @jdbxws @kitabestboy @rottenstyx @itsmytimetoodream @dreamerwasfound@convolutings @rachelccollier @prvncessvibes @thingfromlove @jennyamanda8 @havecourage-darling @luvr-exe @alittlejudgemental @turningtoclown @vikingsheart12 @emptydoorsandpaintedwindows @marvelmenarebeautiful @bringmethe-world@alitaar @sugasthreedollarkookie @chloe-skywalker @heyheyheyggg @feral-ratatattat-king @pillowjj
PART 19
#paul lahote#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote series#twilight saga#Twilight series#twilight fanfiction#twilight#twilight fandom#paul lahote x oc#jacob black#jacob black x reader#embry call
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hey idk if your req are open but if u dont mind can you make a hcs + scenario of Yuuji, Megumi & Gojo with Chubby!fem!reader who is a cutesy fairy ? like she's a fairy who love to wear the dolliest and the prettiest soft looking clothes, and also she is very shy but yet so friendly? tysm before and i really love your writings btw! :)
і ɡ𝘰t 𝗍hᥱ ᥴᥙ𝗍ᥱ𝘴𝗍 ᥆ᥒᥱ! ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑𔓘
Yuuji, Megumi & Gojo with Chubby!fem!reader who is a fairy that loves Dolly & Cutesy Fashion 🎀 ᮫ׅ ๋ 𝆹 ׅ✿
✿ AUTHORS NOTE : hello! well yes yes this is actually my first req ever :3 and if you ask if my req are open or not, well i take req i like and i found interesting. so i never really close it. i'll close it if i put the request : closed sign in my bio if it necessary. but as long as the sign hasnt still written, them feel free to send me your interesting idea.
✿ WARNINGS : none that i aware of? maybe some misspelled word & petnames (babydoll, fairy angel, ++). reader skin color is not announced.
✧ Yuuji
omg this boii?? he freaking loves you sm. he thinks you're the vanilla-est, the softest & the prettiest fairy he ever met.
loves you so freaking much he'd try to do everything for you to keep you happy.
love how your clothes compliment your skin and those perfect combination that really show your curves in a perfect way and also those clothes who gives your fairy wings the prettiest & the most perfect looks!!
feel like he's the luckiest guy ever-!!!
and he looovess it when he sees you compliment yourself in your dolly & cutesy outfit in the mirror, he thinks you look super adorable and just cute cute cute!! 🩷
if you had a thing for plushie, he'd try to buy one every week/month if he had a mission. and after he had done his mission, he's going straight to your favourite plushie store and buys plushie that he thinks you're gonna love<3
after that, he's going to your apartement, knock at the door, and when he sees you all sleepy he chuckled a bit because he cant help but you look so adorable right now! like he can just eat your belly up!
and after that, you both are going to go some cuddles-night FULL! because yuuji really craving and begging to have cuddles with you since he's away in his mission :( <3
⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ s-c-e-n-a-r-i-o ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑
yuuji just got back from one of his important mission. he's all tired and miss you so much he felt like he's dying (this boy smh) so he goes straight to your apartement when its midnight. he knock at your door and which its make you curious yet confused of who is it.. so the second you hear a soft knock at your door, you see the window from inside in which you see your supportive bf! and he looks so tired and burnout omg.. so your first instinct was open the door, even when your hands are like really limp and your eyes all like really sleepy, but you tried your best for your bf, and when he sees your sleepy face he cant help but chuckle. "oh! *chuckles* you look really adorable babydoll﹍uhm- anyway i'm so sorry to interrupt you at midnight but i cant help i'm really tired and also i really like need cuddles rn.. so if you dont mind can we.. cuddle together?" and oh how can he even describe how happy he was when you accept him with such love. "of course yuuyuu. *yawn* i'm tired too so, lets get cuddle and sleep together <3"
✧ Megumi
he never EVER imagine in his wildest dream he would ended up falling in love with such a cutesy Fairy gf like a crazy person.
and let me tell you, this boy is actually didnt ready to have you as a gf in the first place.
but now? look at him, he's freaking loves you, so fucking much like its kinda suffocating honestly.
well how could he not??? you're just so soft, plump, and round..... need to be protected and filled with such love and affections 💌
he would never say this out loud, but he actually love the opposite vibes you both give and have! like he's the emo tsundere boy type who wears dark & (mostly) black colored clothes, and then theres his chubby cutesy fairy gf﹍You! who wear the dolliest and the most soft girl looking type of clothes. really shy but friendly at the same time, soft and round, trying your best to hide your fairy-secret, how could he just not love you?? everytime he sees you, he really want to eat your chubby cheeks, but he scared he might bit you so he always hold back </3.
if you love something like flowers, animals, or maybe plushie, then just like yuuji, he would try sometimes to buy you things you would like secretly since we all know this boy is like a tsundere type.
he also the type of bf who would 10 times more comfortable in showing his love in a quiet and serene place.
now dont get me wrong, he still shower you in compliments and appreciation in publics, but in a more quiet place where it was just you and him? be prepared to be dead by suffocating and drowning from his affection and compliments lol <3.
⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ s-c-e-n-a-r-i-o ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑
Your bf!Megumi has just invite you to some flower garden this afternoon. after you heard his invitation, you quickly get your ass up from your bed, and prepare for the um.. date? ﹍ anyway- after a couple of minutes you finally have done your outfits! all pink dolly and soft, your wings is hiding in your back, your pixie ears compliment your face & hairs, your nails are done, your cutesy makeup are done too, perfect! time to meet your lovely bf Megumi! ﹍ 14 minutes when you finally arrived at the flower garden, you see your bf in a very gentleman suit, he look just so handsome! you see some girls trying to flirt with him but he quickly shoved them off, still havent realizing your appreance. and after a couple of minutes, he's looking at his phone again after he just shused one of the girls that trying to get into him in which he sees you message
{ Babe! i'm literally around you rn... :( }
he quickly turned around left & right, then & there in which he find you! oh god your Vanilla perfume almost makes him suffocating! "fairy angel i'm so sorry i didnt se-" "its ok meguu.. its fine." you told him. and then you ask him why did he invite you here in which he replied "i found a cafe that you may like. so i want to go there with you. would you like too?" while saying that, he sees your eyes are widening and your mouth are slowly gagging open in which you replied "Are you kidding me meguu!? oh i've come here all dressed like a bambi fairy doll rn so what are we waiting for? <3" he sees how excited you are in which he cant help but chuckle as he shyly hold your hands and says "lets go darling ୧₊˚ ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑"
✧ Gojo
flirty, flirty, affection.
yup thats the right way to describe this guy.
almost nut after he realize he have a strong feelings for you.
he really love your pixie ears!! they're so cute and pointy. and they somehow makes you more cute and feminine.
and he also love the combination of your fairy wings with your round body!
everytime he put his eyes on your face or your dolly outfits he cant pull them back. he just stare at you because you just look so fucking ethereal and he still trying to proceed about how in the heck he can get so lucky to get someone like you?? you're like the best thing he's ever experienced.
he fricking loves your style! and i can see he's the type of man who would go to buy a match clothes with you. in other words you both sometimes wear dolly clothing together!
his favorite thing to do is when he's free, where he's at your apartement, and you both watch some random movies with matching soft looking pjs ❁♡
everytime he's gone on a mission, he always remembered those each time. and he sometimes wonder what are you doing right now and ect. and thats the reason why he sometimes bragging it to his others companion like his friends or students..
and after he's done from his mission, he goes REALLY STRAIGHT to your apartement, no matter if its midnight, afternoon, or morning.. he's going to knock at your door, and when you open it, you're gonna get jumpscared by this big goofball sudden hugs.
⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ s-c-e-n-a-r-i-o ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑
this day he's so excited! gojo and his team has already done the mission yesterday night, and was ready to flight off to their region, although.. maybe gojo is a little bit of too ready. well you cant blame him. he miss you so much! also do you even know what days is there! its his freaking birthday!! all of his buddies already saying "happy birthday" to him but he really want ones from you! so after he landed back to his region, he goes fast as fuck to your apartement, but since he's so fast he didnt peek up through your window in which at that time you were piping for his birthday cake! so the second he smack at your door ..﹍ yes. he smacked at your door, you go straight scared of course.. you accidentaly throw his cake who was still in progression while his big body was throwing into yours, you see the cake flying above your head like its kinda slowing a little bit. you were really scared that you froze. but after seeing the guys who is hugging you, and after you see his white hair, you finally snapped back and said "toru?.." he look up at you, in which you were... dont know how to feel. well you were happy he was back but you also cant help but feel furious and anger because he just ruin the birthday cake you made for him. "babe its my-" "i know toru..! its your birthday... but you just fricking ruined the cake i was made for you!.." he sees your face sadden in which he quickly replies "oh no no no no, its- its no matter baby, i'll-﹍i mean we'll make it all over again." "really? but you promised me you wont screwed up ok?" "yes baby. i promise i wont."
#chubby reader#plus size reader#fanfic#fluff#chubby!reader#plus sized reader#x chubby reader#fairy!reader#headcanons#anime x chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#yuuji smut#yuuji x reader#yuuji fluff#jjk yuuji#megumi smut#megumi fluff#megumi x reader#jjk megumi#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen headcanons
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written for @eddiemonth
Day 8 Prompt: Rockstar
a/n: loosely inspired by this AU idea I had a few weeks ago. there's some mild sexual content at the end so 18+ only, please!
read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series
Eddie has never been so happy to be wrong in his entire life.
When their record label originally pitched charting a sailing yacht for their “You Survived Your First World Tour” party, Eddie threw a bit of a fit.
Okay, it was a pretty big fucking tantrum, but, like, they had just spent nine months crammed into bunks on their bus and sharing shitty hotel rooms. Sue him for wanting a bit of space to stretch his legs and let the energy of their world tour timer out of him.
No sane person would want to celebrate the end of a grueling but rewarding nine months by being shoved onto a stupid boat that swayed and rocked and could very much end up with the entire band drowned in the middle of the fucking ocean. (He’s not sure if there’s such a thing as an end of your first world tour curse, but if there is, it would definitely wreak havoc on Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys.)
Not to mention being trapped in the middle of the fucking ocean with no escape route in sight made Eddie’s claustrophobia skyrocket.
No thanks. Not a fucking chance in hell.
But then Jeff happened. Sweet, sensible, always there to talk Eddie down from the hill he’s willing to die on. Before Eddie knew it, the yacht was booked, and a private car was waiting for them to whisk them off to the dock to start their seven-day celebratory vacation.
Eddie had stomped his way up the ramp and onto the stupid yacht with his arms crossed and his rolling eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses. The scowl on his face was supposed to be permanent, but then—
“Welcome aboard.”
There have been moments in Eddie’s life where the entire world freezes, and he gets tunnel vision. The first time Wayne sat him down and placed the old acoustic over his lap. Corroded Coffin’s first real gig at the dive bar in their hometown. And their official first gig at the same bar where people actually came to see them instead of to drink the cheap beer. That call from their now agent. The time they stepped foot in a fancy recording booth for the first time.
Hell, he gets that tunnel vision, world-freezing moment every time he steps on stage to play for a packed crowd.
It’s a welcome feeling, one Eddie’s become accustomed to. But, never, in his wildest dreams, did he think he’d be experiencing it now, standing on some stupid yacht. But then again, he wasn't prepared to be staring down the prettiest man he’s ever seen.
The Adonis-like man smiles at him, hand outstretched in some kind of welcome handshake. Eddie’s own hand moves on its own accord, slipping into the man’s grasp. How he manages to not slip his fingers between the man's and never let go is beyond him. But he’s glad his conscious has the ability to show some restraint.
Because his mind certainly isn’t. Too busy running through scenario after scenario, all ending with the man’s pristine white polo discarded, preferably into the choppy waves below, his slacks yanked down to his knees, and his sun-kissed back bent over the railing.
Jesus H. Christ.
Somehow, Eddie manages to float down the line of other deckhands, shaking their eager hands and smiling fondly as some of them sing their praises about him and his band. The curly-haired boy at the end seems to be the biggest fan, practically bouncing on his feet before the Captain, a stern-looking man, shoots him a look.
The Captain, Hopper, Eddie thinks the man’s name is, starts talking about the plan for the next seven days, but it goes in one ear and out the other as Eddie shuffles over to where Jeff is listening intently. A swift elbow to the rib is all it takes, though, to get Jeff to focus on him instead.
“What?” Jeff whispers, glancing at Eddie.
“You didn’t tell me this stupid boat included a literal Greek God!” Eddie hisses, leaning into Jeff’s side. “I wouldn’t have put up such a fight had I known. I mean, look at him! He’s—“
Jeff snorts, elbowing Eddie back. “Behave,” he warns before turning his attention back to Captain Hopper.
Behave? Ha! I’ll behave all right. Just as soon as I get my hands on him.
⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️
“Robin!” Steve hisses, sneaking up behind her as she carries a stack of empty plates from dinner service down the stairs.
“What the hell, Dingus,” she snaps, dishes clattering in her hands as she shoots her free hand out to steady herself. “You know better than to scare me on the stairs when I’m carrying things!”
Steve shrugs his shoulders, wincing in a weird apology of sorts before taking some of the plates from her hands. “I need a favor,” he says as they continue on.
Robin shakes her head, a silent “we’ll talk about this in a minute” look exchanged as they hand off the empty plates to Argyle. A moment later, Steve finds himself being tugged into their small, shared bedroom for some privacy.
“What do you want?”
“Pretend to be sick tomorrow? I’ll tell Hop you’re not feeling good and let one of the deckhands do my job for the day, and I’ll take over as charter host.”
Steve tries not to squirm under Robin’s scrutiny. All narrow eyes and arms crossed. Like she’s staring directly into his soul. He both loves and hates that she knows him so well.
“This is about him, isn’t it?”
“Can you blame me?” he whisper shouts, throwing his hands on his hips. “It’s been months since I’ve gotten laid, Robin. Months! And now, Eddie fucking Munson is on our ship looking like that, and I’m what? Not supposed to feel anything?”
“You know Hop would fire you if he caught you hooking up with a guest, right? Especially one of Munson’s status.”
“He won’t find out.”
“Steve,” Robin sighs. “You’re not that stealthy.”
“Excuse you, I am very stealthy. Like a ninja, actually,” Steve pouts. “But I won't have to be stealthy. I won't be hooking up with him here.”
For the first time in a long time, Robin is generally shocked by the words leaving Steve’s mouth. He can’t help the surge of pride that courses through him. See, he thinks, you don’t know everything about me.
“So, what’s the plan then?”
“Tomorrow, there’s a water day planned and then a beachside dinner. You call in sick. I became the charter host and spend the whole day flirting with him. And then at dinner, I somehow get him to follow me to that tourist trap of a bar a mile up the road with the big, single bathroom and—“
“I’ve heard enough!” she shouts, slamming her hands over her ears.
A silence falls between them as Robin makes a show of considering the plan, and Steve contemplates getting on his knees to beg for her help. Thankfully, she saves him the embarrassment (and his knees from any soreness that would prevent tomorrow’s activities from happening) and agrees to the plan.
“I swear to God, Steve, if you get caught and fired, I will kill you. You can’t leave me here alone.”
He laughs, pulling her into a hug before Robin heads back out to finish up her chores. Steve stays behind, calling it a night early. He’s going to need all the sleep he can get if his plan is going to work tomorrow.
⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️
Thanks to Jeff’s constant presence and Gareth's watchful eye from across the room, Eddie reluctantly behaved the first night. Said please and thank you when he was asked for his drink and food order. Made small talk with the other deckhands and even stealthy signed a CD for the curly-haired kid who introduced himself as his biggest fan and then by his actual name, Dustin.
Eddie wasn't exactly pleased with his proper behavior, but it was a bit easy to play the part of the good rockstar when Mr. Greek God, aka Steve, as he came to find out, kept his distance from him. From what he gathered in the few short hours on the sailing yacht, Steve is the second in command around here, meaning he’s constantly being pulled in different directions, much to Eddie’s chagrin.
However, that seems to have changed this morning when Steve’s the one bringing up a delicious spread of breakfast foods. Buttery warm croissants, pancakes the size of his head. Even some bastard breakfast pizza that Steve says is the chef’s specialty. It all looks great but not nearly as delicious as Steve looks in his red, slightly too-tight polo.
And then, as if a gift from the universe for his behavior the day before, Steve tells them Robin is feeling under the weather, and he'll be their charter host for the day. Thankfully, Steve runs off to start setting things up in the water and misses Eddie's pathetic reaction to the news.
Now, Steve’s currently shouting orders at a pair of deckhands as they lower a jet ski into the waters below. His voice is commanding, and Eddie knows in an instant that he’d do anything Steve tells him to do if he speaks to him like that. And Eddie doesn’t ever give up being in control, so, like, the thought really fucks him up in the best way possible.
As if that’s not bad enough, the minute the stupid jet ski hits the water, Steve tears off his too-tight red polo and throws it down on the deck beside him before kicking off his shoes. His sun-kissed skin is on full display, and it’s even prettier than Eddie imagined. (And boy, did he spend the entire night imagining it while alone in the main suite.) Eddie only has time to ogle for a moment before Steve races down the steps to the lower dock and dives into the open ocean like a fucking Olympian.
Jesus H. Christ, who is this man?
“You’re drooling,” Jeff teases, swatting Eddie with the linen napkin.
“Can you blame me?” Eddie asks, dragging the back of his hand across his lips. “Look at him. He’s a work of art, and I want to destroy him.”
“Seriously, Eddie?” Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “He’s just some guy.”
“No, you are just some guy. Gareth is just some guy. That guy I hooked up with in London with the piercing blue eyes? That was just some guy. Steve over there…” Eddie trails off, literally swooning. He pillows his chin in his hands, elbows digging into the warm railing of the boat as he looks out into the ocean. Steve’s straddling a jetski now, life vest thrown haphazardly over his body, unsecured.
“You’re down so bad,” Jeff laughs.
“I’m not even joking, Jeffy. You might have to find a new lead guitarist. I think I’m going to be staying here forever.”
“Slow it down, Romeo. What if he’s not even into guys?”
“Oh, trust me,” Eddie says, turning to look at Jeff with a wicked grin and mischief in his eyes. “He doesn’t have to be into guys; he just has to be into me. And I can do that with one very skilled blow—“
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the Blowjob King or whatever,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes. He takes a sip from his beer and lets his eyes drift out to the ocean, following Eddie’s gaze to where Steve is. “Just be careful, okay? We’re stuck here for six more days. Don’t make things awkward.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Eddie says, licking his lips as Steve pulls himself up onto the boat’s platform. He eyes Steve like an animal stalking his prey. Tunnel vision hits him as Steve shakes the water from his hair and rubs a towel over his gorgeous, hairy chest. “It’s him you should be worried about.”
⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️
Steve has enough time to turn the lock of the single-stall bathroom at the Tropical Getaway Bar before Eddie is on him. Crowding into his space and pushing him back, back, back until his shoulders collide with the door.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the minute I saw you,” Eddie groans before smashing their lips together.
It’s quick and dirty, and Steve tries to chase Eddie’s lips when he pulls away, but then Eddie’s lips are on his neck. If it weren’t for Eddie’s firm grip on his hips, Steve would be a puddle on the floor.
Eddie works fast, yanking the polo from where it’s been tucked into his stupid khaki shorts before fiddling with the belt. In one fluid motion, Eddie pulls the belt free and throws it across the room without a care in the world. He’s pretty sure he hears it splash into the toilet, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s got other belts on the ship.
And then Eddie lowers himself to the ground, chasing the tug of Steve’s shorts until they’re both on the grimy bathroom floor. Steve’s not sure how long he’s going to last — god damn months-long dry spell — but he hopes it's long enough to permanently burn the image of Eddie on his knees into his head forever.
“I have one request,” Eddie says, gazing up at Steve with blown brown eyes. Index finger dragging up and down the inside of Steve’s thighs, coaxing goosebumps to rise on his skin despite the humid temperature in the bathroom.
“Anything,” Steve gasps when Eddie abandons his light teasing and grabs Steve with one hand, squeezing just enough to burn in the best way. The moan that falls from his lips is embarrassing, but Steve doesn’t care. “Anything for you, rockstar.”
Eddie chuckles at the nickname and leans forward until Steve can feel his warm breath against him. “Use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me what you want,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to the tip of Steve’s dick. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yeah!” Steve nods, hips bucking up into Eddie’s face on their own accord. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good,” Eddie hums. “Then start giving orders, Captain.”
#eddiemonth#eddiemonthafterdark#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson ficlet#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington ficlet#rockstar eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#dani writes
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1. What is your ultimate sexual fantasy?
2. Have you ever had a one-night stand?
3. What turns you on the most during foreplay?
4. Have you ever played with yourself in bed while having someone next to you without them knowing?
5. What is the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done in public?
6. Describe your favorite role-playing scenario.
7. Have you ever had a threesome or considered having one?
8. What is your favorite place to have intimate moments besides the bedroom?
9. What is your favorite sex toy?
10. Share a secret sexual fantasy that you’ve never told anyone before.
11. What is your opinion on experimenting with bondage or BDSM?
12. What is the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done with a partner?
13. Have you ever had a crush on someone else while in a relationship?
14. What is your favorite type of foreplay?
15. Describe your wildest sexual experience.
16. How do you feel about public displays of affection?
17. Have you ever had a sexy dream about someone else?
18. What is your favorite way to initiate intimacy?
19. Have you ever tried any tantric techniques or practices?
20. Share a sexual fantasy that you would like to fulfill.
21. What is the most adventurous place you’ve ever had sex?
22. What is something new you would like to try in the bedroom?
23. What is your ultimate turn-on when it comes to dirty talk?
24. Have you ever had a sexual fantasy about someone you know in real life?
25. Have you ever had a sexual encounter in a vehicle? If so, where?
Oh my 😳😳
1. I just want to be enough for someone, bot secually and emotionally. Call me old school, but I just want one person who thinks I'm the most amazing woman on the planet and doesn't feel the need to search for more.
2. *giggle* Yeah... a few.
3. Passion and spontaneity. Listening and paying attention to what the other person wants and adjusting.
4. No. I am not one to say no. If you're in the mood, I'll drop what I'm doing, even if I'm not really in the mood. I expect the same in my return.
5. Hmmmmm, it's been a hot minute. Nothing to crazy, probably sex in an RV park shower with other people on both sides of us.
6. I haven't done much role playing.
7. I've had a few threesomes, nothing to write home about, unfortunately.
8. Ummmm, anywhere and everywhere!!! No place is off limits if the mood strikes and we're both up for it.
9. I like my vibrators. I'm not a big fan of playing with myself 😕 I'm a get in, get off, get out type.
10. Well, I've never told anyone about it, I'm not about to tell EVERYONE about it now. Lol
11. I'm not into BDSM, but to each their own. I have been tied up a couple of times, but I have some trust issues that make me panic. Plus, I like to touch, and I don't like being told what to do.
12. Again, nothing too crazy, just anal.
13. I have had a crush on someone who was in a relationship. Technically, when I was in a relationship. I was married but separated.
15. I'm old... there's been a few. Lol. I'm not too crazy, but after I've had a few drinks, I feel super sexy and will usually go home and ride my man, touching myself and being very vocal with naughty talk. That's probably "the wildest" I get.
16. If you are opposed to pda, we won't make it. I'm all about touching and being touched.
17. Oh, good lord... YESSSSSS!!!! Who doesn't???
18. Favorite way? Any way... all ways.... yes.
19. Nope. I'm not the patient type
20. There's a mutual I would really like to spend the weekend with and never leave the hotel room.😈
21. I don't know if it was all that adventurous, but one of my favorite sexual adventures was outdoors when I was hunting with my then husband, we fucked on the 4 wheeler. He laid on the seat, facing the rear of the 4 wheeler, and I rode him. The leverage was amazing and in the open, fresh air. It's one of my all-time favorite times.
22. Well, at this point, I would like to find a new man to play with and have all kinds of new adventures. In the bedroom and other places.
23. I'm not sure I have a favorite...
24. Yeah, I have had some sexual fantasies about a coworker. 😬
25. A few, my favorite was when my ex and I fucked in the backseat of our pickup while a friend of ours drove around on backroads. My other favorite... I can't tell you about 😏
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twitch_live
yo check out this video game *it's like 5 old testaments worth of writing*
Hey haha wanna watch a cool video game? *locks the door and swallows the key* I lied to you, we're going to read a cool video game instead, you absolute nimrod, you inexcusable sack of confetti.
And its name is the mouthful that is The Legend of Heroes: Trails from Zero, or as we at the archeology site call it, Zero no Kiseki, my favorite RPG ever (well, half of my favorite RPG ever, the other half being its sequel), it is the best book you'll ever play, and I want to share it.
Did you ever wonder what would happen at your first day at the job, and you made up all these wild scenarios of awful things that would happen but of course they are super exaggerated? Ok what if there's a fantasy RPG not about setting out on an adventure to find your missing dad, but rather, just having the wildest fucking 9 to 5 in the world, but the salary is ok and it offers dental so you fistfight God about it anyways? Well, that's what we'll be doing, sort of, don't take my word for it, we're reading the book together.
I'm going to experiment to see how this goes and if it's a fun streaming experience, we'll continue it. Not consecutively, though, because if I only stream this game until it's done, we'll be here 'till 2026.
We're live! Hop in!
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𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕚𝕧. 𝕜𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪
》 series mlist
》 lee minho
》 mature/explicit sexual content
》 5.7k
》 under-negotiated kink, blanket consent, penetrative sex, no barrier method+creampie, knife play, blood play, dirty talk, themes of free-use, themes of consensual non-consent, themes of dominant/submissive powerplay, humiliation, rough sex, light choking, possession play, pet names, themes of degradation.
Over the next couple of months, things even out a little bit.
Like a kid in a candy shop, you offered Minho access to all of his wildest fantasies coming to fruition right before him, but after a few romps, perhaps the luster of having the world at his fingertips has worn off, because while the friendship has maintained with little change, the sexy situations you might have found yourself in on account of him not so long ago, have seemingly fizzled out.
You can't help but wonder what you did to ruin it for him, and want nothing more than to figure out how to fix it.
On a rainy Friday night, Minho texts you to tell you to come over for dinner but not to dress up. The request is not particularly out of the ordinary as a man with a plethora of options hidden in his pocket. He can't simply say come over for dinner, because dinner could range anywhere between the little burger shop on the corner, to some place where a single plate equals approximately the same as a monthly car payment.
Today must be more along the lines of the burger option.
You don't want to get your hopes up for any potential for sexy happenings, though the idea of such sits ever-present at the back of your mind, regardless. It feels like forever since the last time, and though you try not to spend much time racking your brain for the moment in which you ruined the future possibilities for this engagement between the two of you, part of you can't help it all that much. Maybe you were a bit too into Hyunjin? Did you not pay Minho enough attention? It sort of makes you wish that the two of you had engaged in more thorough understanding of what is and isn't expected from such a scenario, because obviously you fucked it up, and now you can't even really gather how or why that is.
More bizarre than that, however, is the fact that you and Minho have continued to sleep together in the meantime.
Obviously, whatever it is that has taken place isn't enough to end the friendship, or even the sexual relationship shared between the two of you in its entirety. No, only the trust exercising has ended, and while the sex is good for the both of you without it, you imagine it to be equally difficult for him to pretend that there isn't something better, something more exciting that could elevate each and every experience.
And more than that, quite possibly worse than all — there is the situation with your feelings.
But let's not do that right now.
The elevator dings and metal doors slide open immediately thereafter. Bottle of wine in hand, you step out and to your right, though you don't have to carry yourself especially far with Minho's place residing just along the way. Reaching the door, you find it ajar and awaiting your arrival, so you take it upon yourself to push it open lightly with your foot and peek your head in around the corner.
"I'm here!"
Pots bang around from where the kitchen stands, and only a few seconds later does Minho himself pop up from around the corner with fluffy, loosely-curled hair, apron tied around his form, and an absolutely massive kitchen knife in hand. He smiles widely as his vision finds you, however.
"Good! You're early…or I'm behind schedule, I can't be sure which anymore."
Kicking your shoes off, you laugh. "You're definitely behind, I'm right on time."
Pulling back into the kitchen to get back to work, Minho settles into his routine once more as you follow him around to wait patiently for dinner to come to be.
"Well, then make yourself comfortable, have some wine and I'll try to make it snappy."
Sitting atop one of the stools parked at the kitchen island, you gently twirl around once before pushing the bottle of wine that you brought further away and across the marble.
"I don't think I'm going to drink tonight, actually. Not in the mood, plus, I have work tomorrow."
Minho glances over his shoulder briefly at that, obviously taking notice of the minute change in demeanor. "You can't have a glass of wine with dinner when you have work? More of a lightweight than I thought!"
You can't help the way the corners of your lips pull upwards and into a smile. Something about the man so unrelentingly charming even when at his most annoying. The sound of the blade hitting the wooden block beneath sounds off as he begins chopping an onion, and bringing your elbow up to sit with palm cradling your chin, you're happy to watch him like this.
It feels oddly domestic, as well as oddly right.
Maybe you should just ask…ask why things have slowed down, extinguished altogether.
With Minho's back turned towards you, you glance over the broadness of his shoulders as he diligently engages in dinner prep. A man that you view in such a wildly different light now than in the months prior.
Lips parting, you inhale slowly in preparation for beginning a conversation you're not entirely sure you're even ready to partake in. Thoughts muddled and a little all over the place — maybe talking through it with him will help you arrive at wherever it is that you're meant to be.
You also want to believe that broaching the topic won't destroy whatever remaining rapport might still lie dormant between you.
"Minho?"
"Yes, darling?"
Promising already, you're thankful for the light chime to his voice as he replies, it sets the strong and fast beating of your heart in your chest ever so slightly at ease.
"Is something…wrong?" you begin, though realizing how incomplete the question is upon it leaving your mouth, you push yourself to add more. "I mean, between us. Did I do or say something to put you off?"
Stilling his actions, you watch as Minho carefully glances back at you from over his shoulder with a look on his face that can only be gathered as utter confusion. Unsure if you've communicated ineffectively, or if he simply doesn't understand where it is that this is coming from you go to continue on but he answers back before you're able to carry on.
"Where's this coming from?"
Shifting uncomfortably in your seat and nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails, you pull your eyes away from his and instead focus on the menial task in your hands.
"I don't know, we just haven't…I mean, since that night with Hyunjin. We haven't…done much."
"We've slept together since then, more than once." Minho says, and the tone in his voice is some mixture of genuine confusion as well as insistence of the fact.
"I know," you say in a heavy exhale. "But what I mean is we haven't done anything that I think is sort of part of the agreement, if that makes sense. I can't tell if I've done something wrong, or caused a wavering in the trust somehow."
To that, Minho finally turns his body entirely to face you. Impossible to not make eye contact now, he leans himself back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest — knife still in hand. You think he might look something serious and menacing if not for the adorable apron still clinging to his torso.
He goes to speak, lips parting but instead only a sigh escapes before doing some sort of rethinking his words before allowing them to be heard by you.
"You haven't done anything wrong," he says, barely above a whisper. "But maybe you have a bit of a misunderstanding about what it is that I want from a sexual relationship with someone."
"Maybe I do, I can't help but think that maybe you're bored."
Minho chuckles at that, as if the mere idea of it completely ludicrous.
"No, I'm far from bored, it's actually quite the opposite. The play that we've been engaging in has been fun, enlightening…everything I could ever really want from a sexual relationship with someone, but that doesn't mean that it's everything or that I want or need to engage in that sort of play each and every time I want to experience intimacy with someone. It sort of comes and goes, I guess. Sometimes I'm in the mood to explore kink and have a wild time, but honestly—"
He pauses, glancing up towards the ceiling in thought before his eyes once again fall upon your own with a simple shrug.
"Honestly? Most of the time I just want to have a completely vanilla, light, sexual encounter."
It seems so obvious when laid out for you like this: kink play can be so involved, and exhausting, and takes so much work to get it all right sometimes, it's only natural that sometimes it is not worth the time put in just to get off.
Kink is not an all of the time requirement, rather, serves as a spice to supplement one's life.
Then, he smirks. "You don't like having regular ol' sex with me anymore?"
Head cocking to the side as if irritated by the mere implication, Minho turns back to continue chopping at the veggies laid before him.
"You know that's not true."
"Maybe I've spoiled you with all of the fun, maybe you're the one who can't go back to vanilla and be satisfied anymore."
Maybe. You've thought about it, but you won't let him in to that consideration just yet.
"If anything, you're projecting now," you reply, scooting yourself off of the stool and sauntering across the kitchen to plant yourself beside the man. "This is taking forever, by the way. Let me help."
Reaching forward and towards the handle of another knife, Minho is quick to stop his motions and bring the blade in hand up between the two of you. Stilling with hand in mid-air, as your eyes meet once more, you think yourself capable of seeing the way that prospective lust begins budding in his mind.
Minho's eyes, however, drop down to your lips followed by their dancing along the shine of the metallic edge. You allow your arm to fall slack against the counter, no longer in reach for a knife of your own, and instead stand perfectly still in front of him as he appears to remain deeply in thought with how he wishes to continue forward with the circumstances now at play.
With so little space between the two of your bodies already, Minho closes the distance just that much more — knife lazily dropping down to rest against your shoulder before ever so leisurely sliding down towards your sternum as well as the buttons that tightly hold your blouse together as intended.
Eyes glued to the place where the metal rests against you, Minho finally offers you something verbal.
"You always say that you trust me. Unwaveringly, I believe was the word you used," he says plainly, though the growing desire laced in his voice is all too telling as to where his head is at now. "Why is that? At what point do you revoke the blanket consent established between us? How far is too far?"
You've thought about this already, though coming up blank every time. The truth of the matter is that Minho does not elicit fear, worry or threat within you. Even now with knife held against your chest, you feel far from frightened of him. No, rather, you feel the blooming promise of yet another sexual endeavor that you're almost sure will awaken something that you never knew lied within you to begin with. Because Minho is safe, never has and never will allow danger to befall you and most certainly not by his own hand.
Thinking back to that last evening and his casual insistence of you being perfect — you wonder at what point do the two of you stop dancing around what seems to be so obvious to you now. Are you misreading the signs and situations? Perhaps you are the one projecting all of this time, after all.
Wishful thinking that Minho might also realize what you have realized some time ago, and rather early into this agreed upon arrangement.
"I revoke it when it needs to be revoked," you answer back, excitement giving shake to your voice that you hope he doesn't take as uncertainty. "But that moment hasn't happened yet, now has it?"
He glances up at that. "No, I suppose that it hasn't."
Slipping the blade between the fabric of your shirt, he cuts away one, two buttons — allowing it to fall open to expose the flesh of your chest to him.
"No undergarments?"
You inhale sharply, lust overwhelming you despite the simplicity of the question.
"You'll have to find out, now won't you?"
Huffing out a chuckle, Minho cuts away two more buttons of your blouse and thus allows it to drape over your form with little hold.
"Brave, talking back to the man with the knife in hand," he says plainly, bringing the item back up and next to your throat to sit firmly. "Now strip."
Hands trembling and reaching towards the buttoning of your pants, you can't help but recall the first conversation had about his particular sexual interests; not especially being about domination or submissiveness, but more specifically in relation to the power held within the trust held between people. You figure that in many scenarios, however, there is much overlap between so many different kinks, and especially in relation to power dynamic play.
Minho doesn't necessarily wish to have a dominant and submissive relationship with you, but sometimes it might just end up being the case.
And if you're honest with yourself, the suddenness of being demanded something of has your mind racing with arousal in a way not previously considered before being put in the situation.
Being at knifepoint and ordered to strip — it feels reminiscent of a forcefulness that you don't dare think about. Well, not before now, and with him.
You're careful with how you drop your pants to the floor, not wanting to knick yourself against the sharpness of the weapon held near you, and slowly bringing yourself back up to a standing position, you're met with the pleased, knowing grin of a sinisterly sexy man that quite possibly can take everything of you as he sees fit.
A thought never previously had about a man, and especially not one with a knife held to your throat.
Minho's free hand comes up then to pull the loose fabric of your shirt away from your chest, exposing one of your breasts to the open air and softly palming the flesh. His thumb gently circles over your nipple, and it's then that you come to understand the way that arousal and adrenaline serve to amplify one another exponentially. His hands feel like fire against your flesh despite how light the touch against you is — his eyes lock onto yours, such a demanding gaze that you couldn't dare look away if you even wanted to try — your knees feel something gelatinous, humiliating considering how little the man has done to elicit such a physical response from you.
Thumb still circling, he goes to speak. "Like it, don't you? I bet you're already dripping wet with anticipation of what's going to happen to you next."
What's going to happen to you, such a particular set of words to demonstrate the play currently engaged in.
"Is it the powerlessness of it?" He asks, voice still nothing more than a whisper as the hand with the knife drops down to cut at the side of the undergarments still clinging to your hips and allowing them to freely fall to the kitchen floor. "Knowing that I can take anything I want from you, have you any way I like, and the wanting of me to do so?"
You swallow hard, still fighting back a tremble as the blade comes back up to your neck and the hand once cupping your breast drops down to settle between your legs.
"There's nothing I can't have, isn't that right?"
One finger dipping gently between your glistening slit, Minho grins with the wetness that he is met with, and craning down to meet his lips against your ear, he finishes the thought.
"Mine for the taking. Anything, and any time I want it."
Dinner must wait you realize once Minho firmly grasps at the back of your neck and hurriedly pushes you through the open living space of his apartment and towards his bedroom. He's slightly rougher, more dominant than he typically is with how he handles you, though it only serves to ignite the flame of want just that much more because while he has always displayed some evidence of having this side to him, you've never quite been able to awaken it.
But now you have, and you're more than pleased to be able to experience it.
Minho pushes you towards the bed with a firm grasp that has you stumbling toward it and catching yourself on your hands, flat against the mattress before you turn to look back at him; already quick to pull the silly apron off and make even faster work of his shirt, when it comes to his pants he only gets about halfway through the removal process with button and zipper undone before once more rushing towards you with knife still in hand and crawling over your body to straddle your torso and limit your range of motion entirely.
Part of you almost wishes you could feel some semblance of fear right now — maybe it would heighten the already intense arousal that pounds between your legs — nevertheless, with a firm grip around your throat from above, Minho presses the cool metal to your flesh just below where his hand holds you tightly, and glancing down to where he remains seated your eyes catch onto the thickness of his length still tucked behind fabric confines, but begging to be released in the aftermath of such play.
The thought comes to you in what can only be described as a sudden crashing of unrelenting understanding of completeness within the grasp of the man before you, and the words escape your lips with just as much instantaneousness.
"You can cut me," you rasp out, the sound of words still dying out as a result of the constriction around your throat. "If you want to, then I want you to."
What you don't anticipate in the aftermath of such a divulgence, however, is the feeling of his hand faltering around your airway.
"What?"
He heard you, that much you are certain. His clasp around your neck not nearly tight enough to make the words illegible, and the way that the features across his face tighten into something unknowing is evidence as much. Indeed, Minho hears the words but rather, he isn't entirely sure why.
The shined metal at your neck remains despite the crack within the scene, and upon feeling that hand also begin to fall away, you come to realize that you've now delved into an area in which Minho himself hasn't quite contemplated yet.
The threat is one thing, the acting on it, however; another thing entirely.
Minho's eyes dance across your features with alarmed hurry, as if attempting to find the break in the façade that you've put up that would implicate him in all of his wrongdoings up until now: that he never should have dragged you into this, this he is wrong for not only enjoying but also engaging in such kink, and even more than that…that your relenting to his dominance is not a welcomed relinquishment of power previously held by you, but rather power stripped from you by him — whether you wish for it to be, or not.
Yet he can't locate as much, because it isn't there.
Swallowing hard, he remains perfectly still over you. "Why would you say that?"
A quickly passing urgency in the way it having previously been expressed, as a result, you sort of don't know. Perhaps there's little reasoning that you can give him to set his anxieties at ease and this evening will have to end as something of a failure — maybe the two of you will need to engage in further conversations, after all. Maybe the concept of blanket consent simply isn't enough going forward.
Ironically, however, that it appears to not be enough for him, not for you.
Still, you have to answer him knowing that every second of silence that passes between you only serves to concern him more, and so, you give him the only truth that you can in such absolute, shared intimacy.
"Because I trust you," you say, still casually laid out beneath him and very much within his grasp below. "Because I think it might be hot, and maybe because this isn't just some kinky fun between friends for me anymore, either."
You're well aware that this could be the nail in the coffin of your arrangement with him, but he deserves the truth after everything, regardless.
Minho stares down at you in silence as he thinks through the words that you've bestowed upon him. It seems absurd in some ways that he has never quite contemplated the possibility before; that you are engaging in such affairs out of your own enjoyment and exploration just as much as he is, and furthermore — that the relationship between the two of you has morphed into something different and perhaps more beautiful as a result of it.
He swallows again, throat so dry that it's audible. "We can revisit the blood play thing in a second but um—" he starts, pausing halfway through to continue gathering thoughts before continuing on. "What are you implying…or saying. I mean…what do you mean?"
Fumbling through his words like a nervous teenager despite still very much holding you strong and firm against the mattress and with sharp weaponry in hand, you're charmed just that much more by the juxtaposition of everything encompassing the situation. You force yourself to take a mental snapshot of how handsome he looks with fluffy black hair curtaining the absolutely dumbfounded expression in his eyes, and then push forward to continue forth to the other side of whatever this conversation will bring.
"I feel like we're sort of ruining the moment now with all of this feelings talk," you say in half of a laugh and a roll of the eyes. "All I'm saying is…have you ever thought about how well this is working out between us, and considered the possibility that maybe we've been overlooking the potential of us for far too long?"
"You've caught feelings?"
You roll your eyes again. "If you have to say it in such a juvenile way, then sure."
"You want me to cut you open because you like me romantically?" he questions, tone dripping with inquisitiveness.
You hadn't really thought of it that simply, but if the shoe fits, you suppose.
"Something like that? You're not the only one who is taking these opportunities to learn something about themselves and explore their sexuality. It's not like I'm asking you to cut a finger off."
"I know," Minho admits finally, squeezing his eyes shut in some display of attempting to clear his mind and reset back to zero. "I've just — never really thought about blood play before. Listen though back up. You want to like…relationship?"
By now you find this topic and his inability to partake in it in any sort of a normal fashion is certainly running your patience thin — maybe the sex thing wasn't why he can't seem to keep a girlfriend around if this is how the conversations around it tend to go.
"Sure," you answer dryly, as well as somewhat sarcastically. "’I want to like relationship.’ I mean, aren't we pretty much doing that already?"
"Yeah," he freely admits, and much to your surprise. "I just didn't think you had noticed."
"It gets a little confusing between the fancy dinner dates for two and then the raunchy, sexual encounters with three considering there's no actual label established — but yeah, I sort of noticed."
Minho doesn't reply verbally, instead quickly swooping down to capture your lips into his own. The kiss is deeply passionate in a way that you might easily find yourself able to convince yourself that none of the others have ever been like this. Minho kisses you in some way like he never has before — both literally, as well as figuratively, and bringing himself back up into his seated position, his grip refastens against the column of your neck just like before.
"We should talk about this again," he says with certainty to his voice, before dropping it down into something far more sultry to finish off the thought. "Later. When I'm finished with you."
And just as the last word leaves his lips, you feel the ever so slight twinge of pain against your collarbone.
"Is it okay?" he asks, and the question just about throws you out of your resettling into the scene entirely.
"Don't be like that now, I know the safe word."
To that, Minho only gives you a nod before shuffling his body weight off of the top of your torso and instead quickly making space for himself between your legs. You can't see the blood trickle down from the small cut, nor can you especially feel it, but the knowing that it's there does something primal for your desire towards him as he hastily fists himself beneath his pants to once more reemerge the erection mostly lost in the conversation prior.
You wriggle slightly despite still being well within his grasp, and the attempted struggle has his eyes shifting upwards to take in the sight of you laid out and waiting before him.
"Gonna fuck me at knife point?" you question somewhat mockingly, and to that, Minho's head cocks to the side with that devilish grin that you've not only come into acquaintance with numerous times prior, but have also grown to love just as much as the rest of him.
He takes the opportunity after your suspicion to fervently push down his pants past his hips and just enough to pull his cock free from the confines previously holding it back, and as he languidly strokes over himself only mere inches away from your cunt, his eyes land back upon your own once more.
"Don't think you're in any position to resist, now are you?"
And if the words aren't enough to send a full-bodied shiver of want curling up your spine, then the slow, dedicated drive of Minho's length inside of you certainly is. Blade held firmly to you and hand still tightly latched around your neck to keep you in place, Minho sinks fully inside of you with practiced ease, and groaning at the feeling of you finally wrapping around the straining erection that has come and gone through the erotic ups and downs of such an evening, he leans down against your body to press his mouth against your own once again just before pulling away briefly for no reason other than carefully casting aside the knife within his hand.
When he kisses you again and with newly freed hand, it's quick to wrap up and into your hair as if you grant him just that much more purchase in tasting you. Minho's drives into you are relatively slow; pointed and with purpose but hard as if intending for you to feel every inch of him both in length and girth through every stroke of his cock inside of your walls. It feels bizarrely intimate for kink play that started as and eventually devolved into something muddled within the realm of consensual non-consent, but you figure that engaging in such an activity must hinge heavily on the concept in some way, regardless.
I trust you to take care of me safely, lovingly. Pretend to have me against my will because I believe with all of my heart that you never truly would.
With Minho's body weight holding you down like this, his presence feels all encompassing and overwhelming in a new and complete way. Hand tightening just that much more around your throat, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against your own — eyes watching deeply into your own with every rough, firm drag of his cock along your walls.
"Look at you," he says, voice raspy and lined with desire. "Falling apart on my dick already, just love it when I threaten to take you, don't you?"
You try to answer, but with his hand around your throat and the dryness of your unrelenting gasps, you're barely able to offer more than a nod in affirmation. His drives into you get harder then, the sound of skin and wetness meeting reverberating throughout the emptiness of his bedroom otherwise.
Hand dropping from your hair, his thumb finds the small cut against your skin and smears the blood every so slightly across your skin just before bringing it up between the both of your mouths and painting your bottom lip with what little remains of the vermillion coloring.
"You'll never tell me no, will you?" he asks in a whisper, though you're not given time to respond before his lips once again meet your own to clean the faintest offering of your blood tarnishing it.
Minho follows it with two particularly hard and deep drives of his hips against your own, and crying out for him, you feel his lips twist into something evil and knowing against the flesh of your cheek.
"Not that I would listen, anyway." he whispers, and something purely carnal beneath your skin awakens in the aftermath of it.
Want. Need. Pure, unadulterated arousal. The feeling of being desired in such a purely primal, animalistic way — while simultaneously experiencing, knowing, you are well within the safest hands you could ever be.
Your release sneaks up on you quickly as a result, and you're left with little more ability than desperately clawing at strong, muscular arms that hold you down and in place while Minho powerfully fucks you through your peak — whining and whimpering his name as best as you can through the feeling of being so completely and utterly powerful and powerless at exactly the same time.
"Harder, please—" you whine out for him at the tail end of your orgasm, and wanting nothing more than to satisfy, Minho does exactly as he's told through the overwhelming grip of your pussy around his cock. You can tell that with much more of this he won't be able to stave off his own, and instead you harness the power granted to you like this beneath him and leverage it to your advantage — whimpering and calling for him just that much more through the faltering delivery of his hips with each drag of his length inside of you, and his tightly clenched teeth just before his jaw falls slack and his eyes screw shut with the first and hardest wave of his throbbing release inside of you.
In the post-orgasmic afterglow, Minho lies well and fully on top of you — too entirely spent to think to drag himself off. Your heaving breaths line up soon after, and despite having far from your full range of lung capacity as a result of his weight, you can't really think of anywhere you'd rather be, nor anything you'd rather be doing.
Anyone you would rather be with.
Bringing one hand up, you delicately drag a fingertip along his sweaty brow line, lazily removing the stuck on hair from his flesh. You can't see his face too well — mostly tucked against your neck — but you can feel the comforting smile that forms across his lips at the smallest offering of non-sexual affection after the fact.
With sweaty flesh pressed to sweaty flesh, you're reminded of the cut administered during the act — a light, stinging sensation brought about by the saltine wetness dragged across the wound. You wince ever so slightly at the feeling, though largely overplayed and dramatized by your own admittance.
"Does it hurt?" Minho asks, just as you knew he would.
"No, I get hangnails that are more uncomfortable than this."
"Good," he sighs, snuggling deeper against your body. "I don't want to hurt you."
You don't reply, but you know it well enough that you don't need to.
Still playing with his hair, you think back to the conversation topic that interrupted the festivities before they ever truly got started. You mull it over to yourself quietly, and consider whether or not it's worth it to give this up on account of selfishly wanting more from a man that already gives you everything.
"We don't have to like, change our dynamic or anything you know," you say plainly, trying to sound more confident in your words than they truly make you feel inside. Sure, part of you means it, but perhaps an even larger part of you kind of doesn't. "I know I said all that stuff before but I like what we have. I don't want that to change."
"It has to, though—"
The words come out low and almost as though the man is drifting somewhere between consciousness. It makes your stomach drop to think that this is going to come to an end now on account of your unwillingness to simply enjoy the ride. Things were good, and fun, and everyone is happy with each and every outcome. Somehow, for some reason — this isn't good enough for you, deep down.
You curse yourself for the self-awareness of knowing that to be true.
Minho's head shifts against your neck, and you feel the gentle planting of plush lips against the salty, warm skin there. A hand comes up to cradle the opposite side of your face, as if to pull you firmer into his hold, and feeling the lightest nip of teeth that sends another shiver down your nerves, you all but melt back into his touch once more.
"Because I think I'm a little in love with you."
#lee know smut#lee minho smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#lee minho x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n
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to my sweetheart
40s!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader [2.6k]
Summary: Each night Bucky gets some sleep, which is not often, he dreams of two things for certain: The first, of course, it's you. The calm before the storm. The second, and this was as weird as everything else, was falling. He hated every second of it and hated the first second he woke up the most—when he felt that weird sense of deja vú.
📝 this was based on this post. if you like it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. I hope you enjoy this sweetheart Saturday. | 🏷️ established relationship, letters, angst, longing, love declarations.
warnings⚠️ mature content—depictions of sex, so minors dni. age-typical topics— war, drugs, violence, death, depression & alcohol consumption... etc.
masterlist | series masterlist
ㅤㅤㅤAugust, 1943.
Somewhere between England and Italy, Bucky lost track of time.
Days weren't the same now and he wondered if they ever would be. The empty gaps between horrors and the eerie quietude of bars in towns he's never heard the name of—they make him queasy.
Bucky's lost in time, but not without a compass.
Your words guide him home.
In spilled ink that he sees in the corner of the pages or the coffee stains on pages two or three, Bucky can see you crouched down behind your work's balcony, writing with one hand and nursing your mug of pure caffeine with the other.
Those things.
The memories. They're what keep him grounded at first.
Any memory from that Sunday before being shipped back is his safe place. Dum Dum called those days a "mind palace". Bucky laughed at him when he did, and Morita said, "you say the wildest fuckin' things, Dum Dum," but he'd been right.
Bucky needed a fortress to hide.
Somewhere no war could reach, or sink its claws inside.
Everything around him shone lights on the most twisted things and ideals—he buried himself in the memories.
In you.
The letters were only a bridge.
He noticed that having a head on his shoulders helped the others, too.
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ"In a way, sweetheart, you're like everybody's guardian angel here, y'know? They say 'Sarge, it's easy to not go crazy when we've gotta fella like you around', but most of them don't know that you keep me not crazy. So they owe ya one, even if they don't know it. If When we all make it out of here, I'll let 'em know, and that way, they can pay ya. DumDum already knows you don't like anything with lem I hope it's soon."
ㅤㅤㅤ
As he buries the safe parts of his mind in a random Sunday day, Bucky realizes a lot about himself.
They're traveling from London to a city in the countryside of Italy when he notices that he's sturdy. The word strong is intimately attached to the idea of Morita now—a tall, broad fortitude of a man whose presence is twice bigger than himself. But Bucky's sturdy—like a good structure, a firm base.
His unity gets a mission.
He doesn't think about it. If you're being logical, he told his reflection, this is better. No trenches. No open air.
(It wasn't better. It was unknown, uncharted territory.
Bucky remained with his head held high. Told his men—"we'll work it out.")
The letters are his safe boat, and he floats in the warm waters of your fountains for as long as the damned mails allow him to.
It's a chilling shock when the boat is pulled from underneath him.
The cold waters of reality suck—and the government provides the aid for it.
Bucky re-reads the letters tucked inside his metal box when the mailman tells them about the mess up.
He feels himself slipping when his hands are shaking—the repeated words stop being enough with his mind lost in scenarios of you back home, alone.
The lack of replies from Steve is the last straw. Or the final pull.
Bucky allows the morphine to numb him.
He didn't keep his men from tobacco, prostitutes, alcohol, and the cheap morphine provided by the ones that wanted all soldiers placated the most.
It was... needed.
That's what he told himself.
You need this. If you wanna make it back to her and him, you need this. But you better be fucking smart about it, too, 'cause they will both whoop your ass if you come back fucked up.
Bucky's morning prayer: you need this. if you wanna make it back to her and him, you need this, but you better...
As long as it kept him microdosing as much as possible, all should be fine.
Right?
Not right.
Nothing was right, but fuck.
There was nothing human about staying alive like this. Nothing humane about how the people up top handled the world and played with everyone else living in it, and Bucky made the skin between his thumb and forefinger bleed trying to organize those thoughts as he wrote them to you.
Pages, so many pages of the inside of James Buchanan Barnes, and all because someone answered from the other side. When mail wasn't intercepted—when things weren't fucked.
Bucky could almost hear the disappointment in your voice every time he put something in his mouth that he shouldn't.
Be that a cigarette, alcohol, drugs.
He heard, "Jay... that shit's nasty, c'mon."
It made him smile.
When he heard, "You better not think I'm gonna kiss you if you keep using this crap," the smile left, though.
Even you weren't immune to the dark, intrusive thoughts.
(Sometimes, they won. The ugly thoughts devoured if he'd been obligated to pull the trigger many times. If he kept hearing the sound of something exploding, or his eyes stumbled upon worse than bits and pieces flying here and there.
On those nights, he went either to Morita or Dum Dum. The three of them understood each other better. Talked things out, sometimes.
"This has to end at some fuckin' point," Bucky pleaded. To what or who, no one fucking knew. He turned to Morita, "how stupid is this? Just—how fuckin' stupid is this, Jim?"
"The stupidest," said Jim. Bucky liked hearing him pissed off. "But that's who rules this world for you, Sarge. Stupid men.")
Each night Bucky gets some sleep, which is not often, he dreams of two things for certain: The first, of course, it's you. The calm before the storm.
The second, and this was as weird as everything else, was falling. He hated every second of it and hated the first second he woke up the most—when he felt that weird sense of deja vú.
When he asked Dum Dum about it, his reply was as helpful as not hearing from you and Steve in longer than Bucky could care for:
"Eugh. Put a cup of water next to ya before you sleep, Sarge. That''s like hair and teeth fallin' and shit like that—a warning for ya to wish the evil eye away."
Bucky loved the guy with all his heart, but he wasn't sure what was stupider: The notion that a glass of water would help at all (or not freeze in the fucking cold they were facing these days), or that someone could 'wish away the evil eye' in the middle of the war.
If only.
ㅤㅤㅤ...
—didn't even try to hide it. I think the boys get a thrill from that. They respect me and follow my orders, which is more than I can ask for.
But for now, never mind them. I can't even fathom thinking about the words you wrote that got lost somewhere; crumpled under dust, debris, and nothing nice. Your words deserved better than that. How fuckin' primitive is it that we still gotta rely on papers to even hear from one another, hm? I think all the things you said at the Expo are so true it hurts, and that's a bit sad for me to think about. I always liked technology. You know that. Surely I thought at least some of the people who controlled it were better at optimizing everybody's life qualities, but, hey—you were right about that, too. I think evil lizards just took over long ago, and we never climbed up high enough to know it.
You asked me what I think it'll be the hardest part when I'm back, and I dreaded writing the answer to that.
Truth is—I'm terrified of you. Not as a person, sweetheart, but, the idea of you, d'you know? Nowadays I'm not sure when I'm makin much sense or not so I apologize if I did it again because of The thing is... What if I'm no good? What if my company gets an expiration date because I'm in touch with all of this shit, y'know?
Sometimes it feels like the smell of death and blood is ingrained in me. It's fuckin' disgusting, I know, and I'm sorry to even say it. I just wanna take so many showers and the mere idea of gettin' one is so far-fetched and ridiculous that one of these days I cried because of how hard I wanted it. Please don't think I'm a kid. Fuck what am I saying you'd never judge me for this shit. I'm sorry sweetheart I keep second-guessing things I haven't gotten much sleep. I promise I'll try today
Remember us waking up on Sunday morning?
That's the part of my Sunday I go to whenever I just wanna cry. I head to the bit where I woke up with you in my arms. Your naked body still laying against mine. So soft, baby. So right. The little sighs you make when you turn around always made me smile. You toss and turn like a hurricane all night long, but it's fine—I'll buy us a big bed when I'm back, so we can have that mornin' but even better. Can you picture that? 'Cause I do. I can't wait to say to you this one. Can't wait to whisper BURMA in your ear just so I can hear you laugh at our secret codes. Giggle and moan because I can't keep my mouth to myself when I'm around you.
I keep thinking about how hard you were sleeping. I know you only slept that hard because we were up all night. (That's the part of my Sunday I go back to whenever I need to feel some heat in my body again, or just to know that it's made for more than bad things. That it can be good. Soft. That it's touched someone with tenderness and been touched with love back.) The way you slept even as I kissed your legs, from your ankle all the way up to your inner thighs. How you only opened your eyes when I pulled your knees apart with my head.
I think about that precious morning, that part of my Sunday where everything was just perfect. Waking up to you was fucking perfect. Touching you lazily until your body woke up, getting to know your body with sleep still holding onto the last shreds of darkness in my brain, and the utter perfection of finding out pleasure even without the burning, scorching fire you leave as a trace whenever you touched me. I felt like we'd been married for ten years, that morning, and I could feast on my beautiful wife without a care in the world for what comes later... just because.
I loved spending hours on your body. I'll never thank you enough for trusting me with you the way you did it. Do it. Jesus Christ I can't even fathom not havin' you anymore. No past tense here. I love the sounds you make and how loud you are for me. I love how you let me please you, and tell me just how you want it. I miss that right now. The most comfortable I've ever been was buried deep inside of you as you sat on my lap, your arms wrapped tight around my neck and your lips on my ear telling me every filthy dream you had in my absence. That's my 'mind palace'. Tell no one, though. They think it's something much sweeter.
What are the parts of our golden Sunday you think about the most? Tell me. I wanna know what parts make your days, just as that morning makes mine. I know you hate when I keep babbling about the way I see you — and shyness suits you very well, no matter what Steve says — but I'm gonna do it for a while longer before we talk about the other thing.
(Speaking of your Blond half, can you please tell me where the fuck has he been? I'm drivin' myself mad convincing Steve didn't put himself in a stupid ass position again. I don't got enough morphine in here to withstand this level of worry, I swear to fuckin' god.)
ㅤㅤㅤ...
A lot of shit changes in only a few months, but one thing remains certain: his stubbornness.
He is Winnifred's son, after all.
When his superiors tell him about the mission in Azzano, Bucky shakes his head sharply. Inside his mind, he silently apologizes to his missus before lighting a damn tobacco. Then he argues with his superior.
"That ain't happenin', sir," he says. There's as much confidence in there as he can muster.
His Captain leans with one forearm on the table, and exhales every ounce of air in his chest. "And why not, Sargeant?"
They've been through the 'why' before. Bucky explained in the most cohesive and short way possible the reason why his mission would fucking suck — "you really need to learn how to sweet-talk your superiors, Jay; bad-mouthing them can only be done in your mind; it ain't their faults they think they're special. they're the bosses. as stupid as the rest of us, if not more, and still human, unfortunately. just butter them up" — he stops.
She's right, he thinks.
I often am, your voice replies.
After a deep breath, Bucky goes over it again.
Points at the maps hung in the guy's walls to see if visual aid can help his clear cognitive fucking issues, and drags his fingers through the landscape, running over the plan.
The holes. The improbabilities.
Bucky has this annoying, grating scratch that seems to be attached to his spine. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, bed, or every basic human need in general, but it's made him more cranky.
Less open to be cordial, but he tries.
Eventually, the Captain groans out loud, explaining, "Well, that does check out," as if Bucky would spend minutes talking nonsense in the middle of a war, "but—there isn't much I can do, Barnes. I'm trying my best here—"
We're all "trying our best."
"—and if I'm being honest with you," says the Captain. "I know that this is a hard thing I'm asking of you."
Bucky holds in the scoff. Keeps his eyes in check, and not photographing the back of his skull.
"It really is, sir."
So they compromise.
After over one hour and a half longer of discussing tactics that still contain as many holes as it can fit in an ant's colony, they reach a 'compromise'.
Their unit's 'special mission' is a go-to, and Bucky leaves the base office with that scratch making every muscle in his body hard. Tense.
He shivers, willing away that stupid feeling that hovers at the back of his neck.
When he gets back to his secluded location, the boys all welcome him with tired eyes. Morita hands him the bottle of whiskey and, before he does his duty and fills everybody in, he picks up a piece of paper and your last letter.
"Gonna write, Sarge?" Dum Dum asks.
With Bucky's nod, he switches the gun from the left to the right side and sends him an encouraging smile. "Tell the missus I said hi. I'll keep watch."
"Thanks, Morita."
He starts:
ㅤㅤㅤHi, sweetheart.
First of: I've got some news to tell ya that you're not gonna be fond of. (And oh—Morita says 'hi, missus'. I think he wants to have your babies now that you supplied him with Gudang. Just so ya know.) Now take a deep breath, a really long one—actually, go make yourself some tea.
ㅤㅤㅤ...
↳ my inbox 💌 ↲
#usernexusnyx#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x smut#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky smut#bucky imagine#bucky x you#bucky x oc#bucky x
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k y g ➳ M.I.L.F. ☆
[18:08] now playing: designer - onlyoneof
[warning] mommy kink, male masturbation, nipple play, cumplay/eating, just sub!yugyeom jerking off to you
2nd person // 0.9k words
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙
apartments never really sparked your interest. the idea of being so close to your neighbors gave you anxiety. but after living with you crazy ex-fiance, you needed your independence and the only place that could fit your budget and your standards were nearby apartments.
however, once you moved in you've grown to like the apartments. sure, sometimes you couldn't stand the obnoxious yelling and blaring music your neighbors did but you really did enjoy yourself. and your neighbors enjoyed you too.
somehow, out of all the buildings in the complex, you get put in the one with the wildest and horny boys you've ever met. but you weren't complaining though. now that you were back on the single radar, you were doing far more than you've ever done with your ex. and what's funny is that you have them completely wrapped around your finger.
as you were making your way towards your door, you saw a tall, familiar boy checking his mail. his bright red hair could be seen unmistakenly for miles and damn did his thighs look good in those jeans. your eyes wandered up and down his long legs (and those hips), then traveled to his stomach, wondering if he's still working on those abs. man, does he know how to get you wild up.
"hi, gyeomie~" you finally greeted and he turned to you, giving you a cute smile. "hi, noona. how was your day?" his voice was soft and he ran his hands through his cherry colored hair, which was common while talking to you. he'd also lightly tug on his shirt collar or let his jacket slip down his shoulders to reveal his collarbones, a feature he knew you were fond of. but you pretended to not ever notice. you loved the little shy yet smug look he gave you.
you only hooked up with him once after a night out but that doesn't mean you don't dream about those dancer's hips often. even though he's young and inexperienced, it certainly doesn't show.
"long. I just need to relax and unwind a little," you said suggestively as you leaned against the wall to reveal your cleavage, smirking when you see him struggle to keep his eyes on your face. he lightly tugs his shirt down once he feels the sudden tightness of his jeans, making your eyes trail down to his crotch, he was already somewhat hard. naughty boy. "it's too bad you made plans" your hand slides up his thigh until you meet his boner, it twitches underneath your fingers. "I was hoping for some fun tonight."
yugyeom glanced uneasily at his surroundings, afraid of getting caught. you grin, satisfied with the mess you made of him. while he was struggling to come up with words, he swallowed. his underwear started to feel wet and sticky from how much you were tormenting him. "I-I mean... I could cancel if-" you interrupted. "no, no, no. I'd feel bad. besides, I'm sure momo is dying to see you."
a smirk tugs on your lips at the dumbfounded look on the younger boys face. you pushed yourself off the wall, removing your hands from his erection and coming face to face with him. a soft whimper could be heard as your dark, lustful orbs met with his slightly lighter shades. "by the way, if you wear those jeans and show me those collarbones again, I'll pin you to the wall right then and there so everyone can hear how much of a bitch you are for me."
you give him an innocent smile before smacking his ass and running up the stairs to the second level of the apartment. leaving the poor boy libidinous and desperate for an orgasm.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"fuck~" yugyeom moans into his hand as he thrusts his member into his other hand. trying his best not to wake up his roommate, bambam.
after his encounter with you earlier, he couldn't contain himself as different scenarios played in his head. he just wanted you so bad. the thought of you tugging his cherry strands as you nibbled on his prominent collarbone and stroke his hard, sensitive cock made him pump himself faster.
"oh, mommy." he whined softly. that simple 5 letter word has him quaking. yugyeom shuts his eyes, imagining your wet tongue gliding gradually along his tip, his free hand now rubbing his nipple.
he had to bite his lip to hold back his embarrassingly loud and high-pitched moans, a little whimper and a soft 'mommy' slipping out occasionally.
hot and sticky liquid was now dripping down his hand as he was getting closer to his orgasm. It was pathetic; him fucking himself like this. small beads of sweat dripped down his face making his hair stick to his forehead while his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. chest moving up and down swiftly and erratically, back arched up off the mattress as his fuck himself into his hand. pathetic yet so beautiful.
it was not long until he released onto his chest, jerking off his orgasm. he then sucked the cum off his fingers, moaning as he thought of your praise.
"was I good, mommy?"
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙
#sub!yugyeom#sub!got7#sub!idol#sub!kpop#dom!reader#dom!fem!reader#got7 smut#yugyeom smut#got7 yugyeom smut#got7 oneshot#yugyeom oneshot
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famous!rockstar!eddie x bff!reader (friends to lovers obv) so eddie needs to relax and the best option is a strip club but bff reader is a stripper at the club cause she doesn’t want to take money from eddie cause she feels like she doesn’t deserve it, eddie finds out whilst at the club, panic ensures but eddie convinces her to quit and compromise by becoming a model for his album covers (fluff or smut ending you decide <33)
Warnings; hints of fluff, protective Eddie 💞
💞💞
Eddie desperately needed to relax after his latest gig with Corroded Coffin. It had been a long week and he was fucking tired.
Corroded Coffin being widely successful is something that he never thought would happen in his wildest dreams, he hoped for years that he would get out of Hawkins after graduation but put that down as pipe dreams.
Then one night the band was playing a gig at The Hideout and one of the guys in the audience had a brother who was a music exec.
The next night they played Adam was at the gig and the rest was history. Fame and success came overnight ( or at least it felt like that)
He loved performing but he was keyed up and needed something to distract his mind? A joint? Some Jack and Coke?.
That's when he passes the strip club he frequents from time to time. He hadn't been for quite a while so decided to drop in, have a few beers, etc.
He didn't expect to get the shock of his life as he sat down, music began to play and the stripper who looked very familiar walked out.
At first, because of the lights, he couldn't place her and was hypnotised about how fucking gorgeous she was, about being buried between those thighs.
Then as she began to dance her eyes caught his and he dropped his beer. What the fuck?
"Yn?"
💞💞
Two nights a week she worked in the strip club in town. It wasn't the most ideal scenario but the pay was good and was currently helping pay through college and her rent.
The women she worked with were fucking awesome and they all had each other's back especially if it came to rowdy and rude assholes with no sense of personal boundaries and space.
Working here was her little secret and she daren't tell her best friend Eddie. He would only worry and she didn't want that.
Since he was a rockstar, rich and famous people assumed she would be at him for money, and take advantage of being his best friend but that would never happen.
Endlessly she came up against comments from people who said that since she and Eddie were so close he would be more than happy to pay her rent, utilities and college fees.
She never ever wanted to take money from Eddie, he worked so hard and was so talented, she loved him so much and would never take advantage of him.
The comments pissed her off.
It was hard enough when Eddie liked to spoil her despite her repeatedly telling him that he didn't need to do that, he told her that she was his best girl and he loved to dote on her so her words fell on deaf ears most of the time.
She's so lost in her thoughts that as she goes out to perform she doesn't realise that her best friend is in the audience.
As she begins to dance, cheers fill the room until one voice stands out loud and clear.
"Y/n?" She meets Eddie's stunned gaze and freezes. Shit!
The next second he is up on the stage and taking her hand and leading her to the back as the crowd boos.
Her boss rushes over and glares at Eddie.
"What the fuck? She was in the middle of working! Who the fuck do you think you are?" One look from Eddie silences Matt who goes pale.
"Uh, take the time you need" he hurries away and Eddie takes a second before he turns to her his features softening.
"Why didn't you tell me you worked here sweetheart?" he asks her gently while stroking her cheek.
"I didn't want you worry. You would get all protective and panic" his gentle look hardens a bit.
"Yes I would! Have you seen the way some of the assholes treat women here? Before you say anything yeah I come here but I treat the ladies with respect, some guys treat the strippers like shit, abuse them. Shit! what if someone hurt you baby?!!"
"I was doing this because it paid well, to help pay my rent, college bills" he pulls her in for a hug.
"You could have asked me for money yn. I'd do anything to help you out" she shakes her head and sighs.
"Eddie that's sweet of you but you already spoil me when I tell you not to. I don't want to take money from you at all. I don't deserve it" he bites his lip and leads her outside, placing his jacket around her as it's a chilly night.
"You're my best friend! I love you sweetheart and I would do anything to help you, I'm not coming back to this place and I hope I can convince you not to either. A compromise?"
This intrigues her.
"Like what?" he thinks about this and then his eyes light up as he gets an idea.
"Why don't you come and work for Corroded Coffin as a model? You earn the money through management and sales, not me giving it to you. Would that be a good compromise?"
She ponders this and smiles. It is a good idea and she can spend more time with Eddie, her heart skips a beat at that thought.
"I like that idea Eddie" his smile at her acceptance is breathtaking and he pulls her into a hug.
"Then it's settled. Let me make a quick call to the boys and our manager then we can head to mine yeah?" She agrees to this and it doesn't take him long to sort everything out, he gets a contract drawn up and everything.
"This is so cool and we can spend more time together" that thought excites her the most and she presses a kiss to his cheek.
The urge to kiss his lips is overwhelming but she isn't sure if he would want that. His gaze meets hers and it's full of need which leaves her squirming in desire.
He kisses her and it's so intense and passionate that when he pulls away they are both grinning goofily at each other.
"Been wanting to do that for a while princess"
"Well in that case you better get me to yours quick Eds. I think we have a lot of time to make up for" .
💞💞
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Hi! For the fanfic writer ask game: I, M, and T, please! :)
Hii! Thanks for the ask!
I: How many fandoms have you written in? Do you have a favorite?
Uff, if i count all of them, irrespective of whether I posted them, I think 6? I do think my favourite is Sanctuary as my brain wants to tell the most stories in this, which is a lot of fun. So yeah, I think Sanctuary, there is a lot to work with
(then there is also this Nietzsche/gerssdorff fanfic I wrote in uni instead of paying attention to the lecture about Nietzsche, but I don't count that as fandom work...)
M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with? Did it turn into a story?
I don't really think about AUs much so I don't think any of them could actually be called weird for that matter. But I think the wildest one is a 'The Magnus Archives Sanctuary AU' where the Magnus Institute plus all the eldritch horrors from that universe exist also in the Sanctuary world, which makes for a really fucked up world. It did not turn into a story, it's just something I entertain myself with, when I need a cheer up.
Alternately the weirdest one could be the Stargate Time Riders AU, which I started turning into a story but abandoned years ago...
T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?
Hmm, I once again feel like a picky reader but I think the worst one for me is Miscommunication, I find it incredibly frustrating, just talk to each other!!! I can also be a pretty hard sell on enemies to lovers, if the enemies stage is too abusive to the point where i find it inauthentic that you could fall in love with the other one after that, it's a no.
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Strong & Silent Type
His name is James a strong, hot, super sexy and silent type that consumes the room with his presence picking me up in front of my ole apartment building as I exit the front door to see him. “Hey sir” he says sweetly offering me his hand I feel him pull me into a hug as we met before. We head to his car as he open’s it for me as sit down in the cars passenger seat the ride is very quite as I had expected.
I laugh a bit thinking about the long wait he has put me through the last two years or so the wheels in his mind are spinning out of control as he is unsure of what to do or say to me. He tilts his head a bit making a little eye contact with me with his eyes still on the road and I take notice patting his legs as a sign. He sighs in relief thinking everything over in his mind and he starts to spread his lips.
He begins to tell me that he cannot believe in his wildest dreams that he is here and I politely remind him that it’s his fault he does the usual acknowledgment of his actions and he swears his love to me. I roll my eyes as we hit the end of the bridge to his home in Long Island. His garage door lifts up as en drives in settling down the car parks as the doors closed and we exit in to the garage finally.
It is a beautiful place with a pool in the back yard but I digress as we head up the side door staircase and we enter in great hype over the events that are about to occur in this place. “Nice place.” I state removing my jacket and following him in to his bedroom I kick the door closed to his shock as he drops his jacket and slip his sneakers off to the floor and his eyes rise to meet mine once more.
“Come over here NOW…When I say to come I expect you to rush over pussy. You think you are man amongst men a total badass huh?”
“No Sir! Please listen “
“Ssssshhhhh….”
“SLEEP”
“One two three”
“Drop! Good boi”
“Surrendering to my will”
“Nothing else matters”
“I own you now”
“When I kiss you your mind will go blank”
“When you hug me you will feel whole “
“I will be the center of everything “
“Your entire world”
“Mind, body and soul”
“Your existence “
“Your life “
“My voice the most beautiful song”
“My body a gods body “
“My words a never ending ballad of love”
I can hear the sweet sound of serenity wash over him as his back fell on to the wall as he swoons a bit shuffling side to listening to all of my words guiding him into the abyss of my power. He is under my hypnotic power of my thrall he hears me every image I am implanting on him takes shape all he can see is a golden staircase he placed a hand on the handle.
Take one step I inform that every step drops him even deeper moving his consciousness through his subconscious and inner mind the sights are filled with color interjecting wonderful scenarios in to his mind those of bliss. Meanwhile! My hands land on his body leaving me to a field day checking ever inch and crevice spreading down to under his feet.
At the bottom of the staircase I can see his feet become planted on to the ground firmly ready for it take shape he is automatically finding himself walking back into a strange room with just a bed and closet he finds a single orange pilot shirt, tan pants and white shoes. He gets dress then steps behind the bar shuffling to get himself together he places a coaster a glass upon it and pours me a drink.
Happily I remove his belt sliding it off of him it lands on the floor, undo his pants button letting it fly till it slid down, I kiss him nicely in a slow temp he hums and face plants to the floor. “Excellent! I will strip you naked right now, fuck you so hard till I cum in you and you fully rest in a newly merged in to one being reprogrammed body for my use only.
“Oooooohhhhhh Master!”
“What pussy?”
“I can’t remember what were you saying”
“Oh nothing Ben!”
“Nothing at all”
“Right! I am too stupid”
“Get in position “
“Yes Master”
“Very good! Get dressed “
“If you only had a real man”
“You are my real man”
“You are my everything “
“Those words”
“Yours and mine”
“Forever”
“Get with the program “
“Mmmmm”
“I am at your disposal “
The end
#ben affleck#hypnosis#mind control#hypno slave#reprogramming#hypno submission#mind control slaves#The Master Hypno Harem
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