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giorno-plays-piano · 4 months

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Favors and Debts

Part I

Pairing: fae!Yuji/Sukuna x reader

Warnings: noncon, yandere, murder, captivity, stalking, violence (not towards reader), Sukuna having a purity kink.

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Of all creatures fickle and cruel, the fair folk are the ones inspiring fear and awe alike. You were unlucky enough to save one of them from captivity, and now you must pay for it.

________________

"Please, leave me be," your whisper is so quiet you barely hear yourself speak, but it's enough for the monster to bare his teeth at you in a smile.

"No," he says simply and then charges at you like a wild animal, forcing a scream out of your throat as you run and run and run until you are facing a dead wall blocking your path.

His sharp smile grows wider the closer he steps to you.

Then you wake up with a gasp, face wet with tears and cold sweat as you clench the sheets in your fingers, choking from horror. It's him again. The fae boy you saved years ago, the one who pays you back with fear and pain and nightmares. He doesn't visit you every night, not when you keep taking your sleeping pills religiously, but they are a serious thing, and your stomach keeps hurting more and more over the years, forcing you to take lesser doses. That's when the fae boy strikes, slipping into your dreams like water seeps through a crack of an old, chipped cup.

It's the same dream over and over again: he chases you down the city as you run for your life like a prey followed by predator, blinded by fear while he taunts you, his six long, muscular arms nearly catching you every time. It feels like every night he allows you to escape, but you don't think it's entirely true. Your iron and your mirrors must be keeping you safe: after all this time, he hadn't come for you yet.

You were young back then, so naive, so pure. You finally received a long-awaited recommendation letter from the head pharmacist to be allowed to work in a tiny village down south, nearly at the Drowned Forest border. You were, by far, not a superstitious girl, and the rumors didn't scare you. You were, though, quite worried about being among the simple, rural folk who weren't keen on trusting a young city girl with making their medication: truth be told, women in those places had only ever had one purpose in life, and it had nothing to do with a medical career or any career at all.

And yet, you were welcomed to the place. The villagers were desperate since it took at least several days to drive to the closes town to procure the medication of any serious kind, and they were in great need of someone who'd serve as a doctor and a pharmacist, even if it was just a young girl who had only gotten her recommendation letter.

But it was an unfriendly, cold, half-abandonded sort of place. Likewise, you didn't like its people who were always too crude, too vulgar to your taste, their gazes always lingering too long on you when they thought you didn't see, and you could barely stand the almost-casual touches of men who seemed to think you couldn't see beneath their polite facade. "They're simple folk," the head pharmacist would say, shaking his head after you pleaded with him to give you a letter of recommendation. "You won't appreciate their way of life, and you don't have to. Why do you want to go there so badly if you can continue working as my junior pharmacist? You can make a name for yourself here."

You were stupid back then. You wanted to prove yourself so desperately you thought nothing of his gentle warning, rushing headlong in what you thought your first grown-up adventure that turned out to be a nightmare haunting you to this day.

At first, despite your unease towards the village folk, it all was new and exciting. You were the head pharmacist! The only one for miles and miles. People spoke about you with respect, or so you thought. You were crafting medication day and night, and nearly everyone was coming to your door religiously every couple of days. You enjoyed the welcomed weight of responsibility on your shoulders.

It wasn't until a month passed that the villagers finally let you meet a scrawny pink-haired kid by the name of Yuji, who was some sort of an apprentice. Whose apprentice was he? The men all laughed when you asked them, looking smug as they claimed he was apprenticing for every master in the village.

What an odd thing to say, you thought, furrowing your brows. How could one boy be an apprentice to all of them?

Of course, he wasn't. He was a fae boy they have somehow captured and kept prisoner, making him do all sorts of manual labor because they knew his true name.

At first, you thought it was nothing but a shameful lie to keep a fatherless young man chained to his captors to make their bidding. Yuji was just a boy. He was young and smiley and helpful despite the abuse he had to endure every day, the villagers giving him the thoughest jobs under the pretense of his immense fairy powers. Where was he from? Why had no one tried to stop people from treating him so unfairly? He wasn't a caged animal. Yuji was a human being.

But then the blacksmith once handed him an iron girdle, a wicked smirk on his lips, and you saw the horror and pain reflected on Yuji's face when his fingers touched the metal, his palm immediately growing red as if the iron was still hot. He wailed, dropping the girdle on the ground while the blacksmith laughed at him like it was a joke of some kind, and you, caught off guard by such casual display of cruelty, ran to the boy to have a look at his injured hand.

He was, indeed, a fae. The iron to him was alike acid to humans, burning his flesh at the slightest touch.

The discovery shook you to the core, at one point making you question your sanity, but in that moment you were so preoccupied with the boy's injury you were more focused on helping him alleviate the pain and bandage his poor hand than worry about his fairy nature. Regardless of what villagers said, Yuji was gentle and proper. He didn't deserve such horrible treatment.

With every day, you grew more and more anxious, watching him casually bullied and hurt by the village folk for their own amusement. They made him touch iron, look into the mirrors that somehow brought him immense pain, forced him to work till sunset and even at night, and refused him food from to time. It was unbearable to watch a young boy being treated that way. It was no wonder you developed so much compassion and pity for him, soon sneaking in the hovel where he was allowed to sleep to feed him or bring him medication for his injuries. He was such a lovely boy, so bright and kind and sensitive, that it took you just a couple more weeks to agree to his plea to help him get out of this wicked place.

How could you have known of his true nature? You were but a naive, pure young girl. It was a given you were easy to manipulate, to be taken advantage of. A disaster waiting to happen.

You didn't even believe in the fair folk when you had first arrived in that god-forsaked village, but in a couple of months you took up on a quest to find another fae in the Drowned Forest and bring him to Yuji to set him free. When you think of it now, it's such a miracle you stayed alive. Walking straight into the Drowned Forest... what were you thinking back then? How could you be so stupid? That journey could have cost you your life, but you grew too desperate to protect Yuji against villagers' abuse.

Back then, you weren't sure how you stumbled upon another fae so fast, barely minutes into the charmed forest, but now you know he had been waiting for you. Yuji was biding his time because he knew one day a girl like you would appear and do what she could to free him. He was well-prepared, and you were eager to be deceived.

You didn't know what to expect from that exciting but inherently dangerous affair, and yet you didn't think the fae to just slaughter them all, all the human folk of the village. You heard them scream. Luckily, Yuji locked you in the barn where he used to sleep, and you avoided looking at the bloodshed, but their desperate, horryfying cries have been your constant companions for many years to come. You still hear them sometimes when you sleep.

When the menacing black-haired fae from the Drowned Forest grew in size, the marks on his forehead shining in the dark, claws elongating meyond measure, Yuji forced you into his barn, his usually gentle expression morphing into something sinister. He looked at you with mad glee, his fangs elongating, two arms splitting into six like he was mutating right in front of your very eyes, and as you crawled back, suddenly realizing the villagers were right about him, he cornered you, caging you with his large, muscular body, strange symbols engraved into his skin.

"A woman like you captured me," he whispered softly as you shook violently beneath him. "She was a clever little fox, and I lusted after her like a fool, letting her trick me into submission. All those years I spent like a dog on a chain... But I knew a woman like her would set me free."

________

His hand brushed a lock of your hair away from your face, and with the other one he took you by the chin, forcing you to look up at him, "Seven years I've waited in my cage, little bird. Seven years I'll give you to live your mundane life before I come for you."

Part II

Tags: @minshookie29

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere #sukuna x you #yuji itadori x you

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zorosleftshoe · 1 year

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Hiyaa, can I request a Colby Brock x fem!reader? :))

So basically you are chilling on his bed scrolling through TikTok (the trap house) meanwhile Colby is in the shower, when he finishes he only comes out the bathroom with a towel around his waist making his V-line noticeable and teases you with his abs, muscles etc. And maybe things can get a little heated? It’s fine if your not comfortable writing that so it could just be pure fluff but I have quiet hope 😅❤️

Take your time <33

Temptations - (c.b)

Pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

Warnings: smut!, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!), p in v sex, fingering, minors dni

“Dayday, I’m gonna play this music video for you, look.” The tiktok plays quietly through my phone before the familiar melody of ‘WAP’ begins to play. I continue to scroll through the account, stopping every so often to watch a Tiktok here and there, before I hear the shower turn off.

“Baby, you gotta come watch these TikToks!” I say loudly hoping Colby can hear me through the closed door. As if on cue the bathroom door opens and he steps out. When I catch sight of him I inhale deeply.

His hair is dripping and hanging loosely around his face as he uses his hand to shake it out. The black towel hangs loosely around his hips so his v-line is on full display. I can feel my heart rate begin to pick up as my eyes take in the sight in front of me. The way his skin is glistening with the dampness of the water and the way the towel is sitting just right has me squeezing my thighs together to gain some much needed friction.

“Everything okay over there?” I tear my eyes away from his bare torso to meet the blue eyes already staring at me. “You look a little distracted.” I can tell by the smirk on his face that he knows what he’s doing. He takes a few steps towards me and leans down so his lips are dangerously close to my own.

“Colby.” The warning goes unheard as he closes the gap between us and his lips meet mine. The kiss is slow as he takes his time maneuvering his body over mine on the bed but once he does I can feel his teeth drag across my bottom lip. It was never a battle for dominance with Colby. He would lead and I would succumb to his demands by following. As he pulls back his teeth drag my lip with it only to release it with a soft pop as he moves his hands to the hem of my shirt. “It’s entirely unfair that one of us has more clothes than the other.”

“Mhm.” I hum out as he discards the shirt somewhere in the darkened room. His lips are on mine again as his fingers dig hungrily into my sides and I suppress the moan that nearly escapes through my parted lips.

“Let me hear those pretty little sounds.” His fingertips are dug into my sides to the point I know I’ll have bruises but all I can focus on is the heat of his kisses being pressed against my neck. The way he lingers in one spot long enough before moving to the next. How he nibbles lightly on the skin before sucking deliciously at the sensitive spot he knows all too well and the warmth between my thighs becoming unbearable due to the lack of friction.

“Colby, please.” He nips at my neck once more before I can feel his calloused hand creep up my hip to the flesh of my ribs. “Touch me.” It’s a breathless plea but it falls on deaf ears as Colby’s mouth is still attached to the exposed skin of my neck. “Colbs.” Moving his hands from my rib, he uses his pointer finger to trace the nub of nipple earning a moan in response.

“There she is.” He states proudly. Only looking up at me for a second before leaning closer to my exposed chest and taking my other nipple between his lips.

“Baby.” I whine as he flicks his tongue against the hardened nub and twitch under his touch. He uses his free hand to nudge my underwear down and spread my legs open further to grant him more access.

He teases my entrance with his finger before gently easing it inside. My breathing picks up as he pumps his finger a few times before inserting another and picking up the pace. My soft moans fill the room as his fingers edge me closer and closer to my climax. He uses his thumb to circle the sensitive bud of nerves and I can feel myself getting close.

“I’m close.” He raises his head to lock eyes with me and presses his lips against mine.

“Cum for me, angel.” As the bubbling feeling in my stomach becomes overwhelming I feel myself overcome with pure bliss. “Are you okay, love?” I nod my head before unwrapping the towel from his waist and watching his cock spring free to slap against his stomach. I take him in my hand and pump him a few times before teasing my entrance with his tip. He hisses at the sensation and gently pushes through my folds. “So tight.” He says softly. He stalls for a moment before thrusting all the way in and I let out a cry of a pleasure.

“Don’t stop.” And he obliges. He picks up speed as I lean my head to side and lightly bite into his bicep. He whimpers at contact but continues thrusting into me at a quick pace. I can feel my climax fast approaching as my walls clench around him. “Mm. Love you.” As he pounds into me I reach my second climax and arch up into him. His thrust become sloppy as he reaches his own climax and he collapses onto my chest. I use my hand to brush the hair out his eyes and he smiles up at me before leaning close and connecting our lips.

“You okay? Do you need anything?” I shake my head and wrap my arms around his bare shoulders. “Just cuddles?” Silence answers his question as we lie there in each others arms.

*I don’t usually write smut and I think it shows, so please be gentle with me lol also, the tiktoks that I based this off of are from the account jay.geig18 on Tiktok. Highly recommend watching them if you don’t!

#sam and colby #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock #colby brock smut

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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a little taste | jjk (m.)

the one with just the tip.

[ ‘ a little taste ’ series masterpost ]

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, smut (pwp), unprotected s✩x (this is fictional, don't do it irl folks), cre✩mpie, jungoo is an ✩ss grabber, he's also a lil shit, 2 secs of dirty talk?, swearing, they're both frustrated lol, zero editing pls forgive me

word count: 1.3k

note: happy sunday errbody! we got a surprise ALT drop 🥳 i have no excuse, i woke up this morning and wrote this in one sitting before i even got out of bed lmao. have fun all u horndawgs <3

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

You know how you got here, and the reason is very stupid.

It always starts with a meaningless discussion, really.

You two were having a quiet night in, cuddling on the couch and watching a rerun of your favorite TV show when a raunchy joke popped up, which somehow (because bless Jungkook’s brain and his useless ability to jump from point A all the way to point Z in a blink of an eye) led to the infamous “Just the Tip” debate.

You were taking the Negative, for obvious reasons, and he was on the Affirmative side. Jungkook wasn’t arguing that all men could handle themselves when their literal dick is inside of a woman; more so that he, this one specific individual, easily could.

And you suppose that’s why you’re here, trying to settle the argument, the both of you naked from the waist down. His hard cock pokes at your entrance as his eyes twinkle with a mischievous glint. Jungkook is always so competitive, but he sometimes forgets that you are too, and you’ll try your goddamn hardest to make sure he loses this one.

Okay, maybe it’s not just a silly little debate. It might have escalated into a silly little bet, one that involves the loser having to fold the laundry for a whole month.

Which so happens to be your least favorite chore.

Which only gives you more incentive to win.

Men are simple creatures, how hard can this be?

You bite your lip as he pushes in, just the tip, then stills. The stretch is a little dry at first, and a tad uncomfortable. You barely prepped before both of your shorts flew off somewhere in favor of you wanting to prove a point. Jungkook’s fingers slip through your folds to find your clit, fondling the nub until he could feel you getting wetter by the second, coating the tip of his cock in your slick.

“Ready to lose?” you ask coyly, to which he only responds with a playful scoff before he pulls his hips back, nearly slipping out of you in the process. He bucks forward again, and you can already tell that he’s trying to hold back, to be mindful of how shallow his thrusts have to be lest he wants to give you a few more inches than necessary.

“Fuck,” a tiny, whiny, moan escapes your lips, barely audible to your own ears but Jungkook catches it. He smirks at you triumphantly, never stopping his movements down there. God, you’re really not used to this. Whenever you two are on each other, it’s always hard and unrestrained, purely focused on making the other feel as good as possible.

How the hell is he so good at this?

Maybe you should’ve known. What can’t Jungkook do?

You keep expecting more every time he pulls back, anticipating that his cock will fill you to the brim like it always does. But then he gives you just the fucking tip - which you suppose is fair; that’s the whole point of this idiotic bet after all - and you swear you could burst from frustration.

Jungkook senses your inner turmoil, how you’re trying to keep yourself from begging him to fuck you silly. You can’t say you’re surprised when he tugs his t-shirt over his head - in that insanely hot way that guys do! - and throws it recklessly across the room, flexing his abs and biceps at you. It’s like his tattoos have a mind of their own, the intricate ink winking at you with his every move like it’s mocking you, tempting you.

What’s on the line again?

Oh, right, laundry. Fuck!

You’re positively dripping with arousal, a want - no, a need - that he just won’t satiate. “That’s not fair,” you complain, even though your hands are already reaching for him, pulling him closer so you could touch him all over.

“Who said anything about fair?” he says before he kisses you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips to taste you. He moans against your mouth as his fingers sneak down to squeeze your bare ass.

So he wants to play dirty? Well, you can do dirty too.

You time his thrusts so that when he ruts forward, you clench around his cock.

That’s when you feel it. Him, deeper and throbbing inside of you.

For the first time since this started, you have the upper hand.

You break the kiss only to narrow your eyes at him. “That felt like more than just the tip,” you purr.

Jungkook groans, but it sounds more like a growl than anything. Okay, he’s really competitive. His hands dig into your ass so roughly that you’re pretty sure it will bruise in the morning. His hips stop moving entirely, trapping his cock within your walls where it’s achingly, deliciously hard.

You can practically feel his self-control slipping away, and all over a single clench?!

It might’ve taken you a bit longer than expected but alas, men are simple creatures.

You squeeze around him again, just for kicks. “What’s the matter, baby?” you tease, enjoying the way his eyebrows knit together tightly, almost like he’s angry. “Ready to admit defea– Oh!”

Then, that motherfucker shuts you right up. Jungkook shoves his whole length inside of you until he bottoms out, aided by the wetness that gushes out of you. He gives you a single grunt as the base of his cock rubs against your clit, the tension in your belly amping up tenfold when you feel him, so fucking deep in you because that’s where he belongs. This is what you wanted.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he mocks you with a sly smirk, though he doesn’t give you any time to answer before he starts fucking you with fervor, pounding you into the couch - or the next dimension - like he’s got a personal vendetta.

“I– fuck–!” If you could formulate a coherent response, you would shoot him back a retort - You lost! - but whoops, all rational thought flew out the window the second he rewarded you with his cock. It’s absolutely insane how easily he’s able to render you speechless just like that.

You struggle to even moan his name, for crying out loud. Jungkook holds your legs open so he could fuck you better, the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot with every thrust, sending you embarrassingly quickly to the edge you’ve been looking for. You hold onto him for dear life, nails digging into his shoulders and making him grunt from the added pain. It’s right there, you’re so close…

“C’mon,” he purrs, ducking down to suck a mark into the skin of your neck, “come for me. I know you want to.”

Just a few more thrusts and you’re falling right into that sea of bliss that awaits you at the bottom of the cliff. You come hard around his cock as a shout rips itself free from your throat - not even of his name, or anything in particular - and Jungkook is falling right behind you. He empties himself inside of you with a broken moan, warm ropes of his cum painting your velvety walls white.

You hold onto each other like that for a while longer, neither of you caring about how his softening cock is letting your combined release trickle out of you and onto the material of the couch. You play with his hair as he kisses your neck softly, and when he finally props himself up on his forearms to look down at you, there’s something so sweet in his gaze that makes you flush all over.

It almost makes you forget about what you’ve been playing for. Rationality starts crawling back in again after the dicking down you just had.

Almost being the keyword. Too bad for your boyfriend though.

“I won,” you say happily, giving him your brightest grin.

“Did you really win though?” he asks, eyes narrowing playfully at you. Always the negotiator, this one. “Or did you want me to fuck you so badly that I let you win?”

“I won. You said just the tip and then you gave me your whole dick. Now prepare to fold the laundry for a whole month.”

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murdockparker · 1 month

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Paralyzed

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: just pure fluff, mentions of murder (but not frfr)

A/N: no this isn't based on a big time rush song you're crazy anyway!! I think this is my first real Steve fic? The first real one I got around to posting I guess. Cheers!

It was a Friday afternoon.

Correction, it was a terribly busy Friday afternoon. Family Video was seemingly the place to be, people swarming the building in hopes of renting new releases for their perspective weekends. Steve usually loathed his Friday shifts for this exact reason, countless questions about the new tapes, a dozen or so mothers berating him when a certain movie is out of stock—as if Steve Harrington himself is the reason behind the madness.

But, this afternoon was different.

This afternoon she walked in.

He had enough of the madness, leaving Robin all alone to deal with the wolves for a mere five minutes—he needed to get out of there. With his head in his hands, he sat on an unopened box filled to the brim with different assortments of candy—candy he needed to stock sometime today, a fact he surely couldn’t have forgotten even if he tried. Only two minutes into his escape, Robin came bounding in the backroom, a wild look grazing her eyes.

“Steve,” she nearly panted. “You gotta take over for a minute. This woman is just—ugh—not taking no for an answer! I told her we don’t have The Breakfast Club in stock, but oh no, why trust the employee who rented all ten copies earlier today? Huh? How about we give the girl who makes a little over three bucks an hour a hard fucking time!” Robin was rambling at this point, the words falling deaf on Steve’s ears.

“Robs,” Steve groaned, finally looking up at his friend. “Give me another minute, I have a nasty headache—”

“Me too, Harrington,” Robin sighed, plopping down on the box next to him. “Her name’s probably Debra and she’s a beast in fake leopard print.”

Steve snorted with laughter. “Fine, I’ll head back out there,” he stood up, dramatically dusting off his jeans. “I just don’t know why the hell our help wanted sign hasn’t brought in more folks, we’re dying out here.”

“No one wants to work for Keith,” Robin said simply.

“Damn straight,” Steve pointed, pushing his way back onto the sales floor. The leopard printed demon was nowhere to be seen, much to Steve’s utter relief—he didn’t have the energy to fight her off anyway. Finding his way behind the counter, the doorbell rang out, a pavlovian response nearly spilled from Steve’s lips. “Welcome to Family Vid—”

His heart stopped.

She was gorgeous, like she just stepped out of a magazine ad—the one’s his mom bought, not the trashy shit they sell down at the gas station. Sunglasses adorned her temple like a crown, her hair perfectly falling around the pink lenses. Steve didn’t know what to say, it felt as if he simultaneously forgot all the words in the English language and stuffed seventeen Saltines in his mouth—he was tongue tied.

“Uh, hi,” the girl said softly, waving towards the frozen spectacle behind the counter. “I saw you have a help wanted sign outside?”

Steve could only nod, making a good effort to keep his jaw from falling on the floor.

“Well,” she smiled, the kind that would make babies giggle at the sight, “I just moved here and sorta need a job so…” A resume was placed on the counter before him. It looked professional—way more than what Family Video could ever hope to ask for from an applicant, anyway. Steve couldn’t stop reading it. She was literally an angel, an answer to his very prayers—every one of them. If he had the power to hire her on the spot, he’d be tossing her a green vest from the back without a second thought. Part of him was cursing the fact Keith wasn’t here to interview her this very second, he needed to get to know this girl.

“I-I…” Steve tried to speak, feeling his cheeks grow inflamed with embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being so… foolish around a girl.

“Steve, is it?”

She knew his name.

Of course he knew she read it off his name tag, he wasn’t that thick, but hearing it come straight from her lips? He could have melted directly into the floor and no one could have stopped him.

“Yeah, this doofus here’s Steve, I’m Robin,” Robin appeared by his side, seemingly in the knick of time. “Don’t worry about him, we’re getting him the help he needs.”

The mystery girl giggled. “Ah, I see.”

“You want to apply here?” Robin asked, prying the resume from Steve’s—reluctant—hands. “Oh thank God, we’re dying for more bodies around here.”

“I love movies,” she explained quickly, noting how intently Robin was reading over her simple paper. “A-and I used to work at a movie theater back home before moving here, so I know a lot about the recent releases—”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Robin said, leaning onto the counter, voice dripping with secrecy. “You’re probably too good for this place, I mean, way too good for this shit-hole—”

“I need a job,” she repeated, almost desperately. “My folks forced me to move here and I’m trying to save up to get my own place back in Chicago, I’m not built for this small-town bullshit.”

This made Robin explode with laughter and Steve shrivel in despair. She had an expiration date—a way out of Hawkins.

“Well, I’ll make sure to pass this off to our manager—with a glowing recommendation, of course,” Robin winked.

“I appreciate it!” She smiled again, the sight nearly had Steve wishing he had his own pair of sunglasses to wear—it was blinding. “Well, I hope to see you guys around?”

“We’ll be here!” Robin called out, watching the girl walk back towards the door and out towards her car. A hand smacked across Steve’s bicep.

“Hey!” He finally responded, rubbing the aforementioned spot. “What the hell?”

“I should bring that whiteboard out of retirement,” Robin arched her brow. “You’re positively hopeless, Steve Harrington. What the fuck was that all about?”

“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighed. “She was just—I didn’t even know what to say!”

“Clearly,” she snorted. “You looked like a gaping trout—”

“I did not—”

“This was worse than the girl who asked for a Mint-Choco Deluxe and you handed her a straight scoop of ice cream—no cone. I had to practically chase her out with a stack of napkins and a thousand apologies.”

Steve cringed at the memory. “Maybe…”

“When Keith hires her—and you know he’s gonna—you better get your act together. I don’t wanna deal with…this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved. “Sure.”

And deal with it, she did.

(Y/N) was her name, Steve had the pleasure of unpacking her new name tag for her first day. He almost wanted to keep it, but figured it would make him look like a crazed lunatic. Patiently, he waited by the front door, hoping to see her pull up in her car, ready and rearing for her first day on the job. Steve begged Robin to allow him the pleasure of training her, given he could somehow speak in her presence, of course. She simply rolled her eyes and agreed to the shift exchange.

A shiny, cherry-red BMW peeled into the lot—Steve noted it looked awfully familiar to his own car, minus the color of course. It seemed a bit out of place in a small town like Hawkins, but the car had suited her just fine. Everything about her suited her kindly, Steve had noticed, especially the clothing she wore. Family Video was no place for a fashion show, Steve could attest to that himself, but with the way she was practically strutting towards the doors? The parking lot was her runway and he was begging to see more.

“Good morning!” (Y/N) greeted cheerfully, pushing the glass door open wide.

“Morning,” Steve managed to squeak out. He pushed the unflattering green vest towards her. “Your uniform.” She easily slipped the fabric over her own shirt, the stark whiteness of her blouse really made the green pop.

“Well?” She spun around, twirling like a princess. “Do I look the part?”

Steve could only nod.

“So what’s the first thing on the agenda? Do y’all have a time clock?”

Steve nodded again, pointing his thumb towards the break room.

“Ok..ay…” She said quietly, walking in the direction she was given.

He could cry—it was so pathetic. The way this girl had him so worked up? How was he expected to train her? No, forget training her, how was he supposed to even talk to her? Steve had been in pickles before, but this one took the cake.

“So you just… don’t speak then?”

She had managed to sneak up behind Steve, who had clearly been deep in thought. Her angelic voice alone made him jump.

“I-I speak,” Steve explained. “I just… have a lot on my plate currently, s’all.”

“I’m sure working at the Family Video is real hard work, superstar,” she giggled, jumping up onto the countertop. “But I’m glad I don’t have to understand your training through charades."

“I’m pretty good at charades,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “O-or so I’m told…”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she smiled. “But seriously, I really thought you just didn’t want to talk to me or something.”

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“So… I should probably show you the computer system for rentals,” Steve tried changing the subject—poorly, but she graciously turned her attention to the computer she so-conveniently sat next to. “Y’know, because that’s like, the entire job.”

The girl leaned in, not daring to remove herself from the counter top, trying to see what Steve was clicking on.

“You seem tense,” she noticed.

“It takes me a while to get warmed up to new people,” he lied.

“What? Like a cat?”

“…exactly like a cat.”

“Well, Steve,” she hopped off the counter, “it’s a good thing I like cats.”

He tried his best to hide the redness flooding his cheeks.

She made Family Video more enjoyable, even after her first shift, Steve thought. He already liked the job enough, spending time with his best friend and getting paid for it was already a huge perk, but now that he got to know her? He might just keep this job forever.

Forever lasted only four months.

“Steve!”

He peeked his head over the horror aisle, finding (Y/N) staring at him expectantly from the front counter.

“Yes?”

“I’m dying over here,” she said dramatically, falling over on the countertop. “It’s so… boring.”

“It’s a Monday morning,” Steve said simply, commanding every fiber in his being to not shrug at the statement. “Mondays are usually boring around here.”

“Everything about Hawkins is boring,” she said, not lifting her face up from the counter. “How do you manage living in this God-forsaken town?”

“I don’t think everything is boring,” Steve scoffed, ignoring the rest of the tapes that needed to be put away. His feet were already leading him towards the counter, as if they had a mind of their own. “I mean, I doubt you’ve run through everything this town's got to offer?”

She lifted her head up from the counter, a red mark gracing her forehead. “In the last four months of living here? I think I have. Hell, the one cool place y’all could have had burned to the ground.”

Steve winced at the mention of StarCourt, the wounds still fresh. “It wasn’t that cool…”

“Fine,” (Y/N) propped herself up, head in her hands, “name one cool place in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock.”

He doesn’t know why he said it.

“Skull Rock?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve sheepishly said, hand finding the back of his neck quickly. “It’s the go-to for the coolest kids in Hawkins—made popular by yours truly.”

“And what exactly is Skull Rock?” Her arms were neatly crossed by the time he managed to look back at her.

A make-out spot.

“A-an… experience?” Steve squeaked, trying his best to sound cool. “It’s hard to explain, you just kinda gotta go and see for yourself.”

“Huh,” she tutted. “Why haven’t I heard of this Skull Rock until now? Certainly if it was as neat as you say it is I would’ve heard about it by now.”

“It’s underground,” Steve tried to convince her. “Not physically, I mean. It's above ground, I promise. Underground in the sense that only the cool kids know about it.”

She snorted. “Cool kids?”

“Y-yeah,” He tried to double down.

“As in, like, high schoolers?”

“Other people besides high schoolers can be cool kids, y’know,” Steve said, trying his best not to cough.

“Maybe I’ll ask Robin about it when she comes in—”

“I could take you?” Steve is quick to interject. “To Skull Rock, I mean. Tonight, if you’re free.”

A smile crept across her ruby red lips. “Like a date?”

“Pshht, no,” Steve waved. “Like a thing friends do! An activity of sorts.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“An activity,” Steve corrected, feeling queasy at the thought she may actually say yes.

As if mulling over her options for the evening, (Y/N) stared directly into Steve Harrington’s brown eyes, pinning him to the spot with such a glare. “Hm. Alright.”

“A-alright?”

“Do you think I have to change for this ‘activity’?” (Y/N) motioned her hands up and down her body, giving Steve actual permission to fully look at her. Her outfit was already sensible enough—she was here to work, after all—he didn’t ever see a reason for her to change.

“Maybe different shoes?” Steve offered, looking down at her feet, adorned with ruby red flats to match her lips.

“What sort of shoes do you recommend? These are my favorite flats.”

“Sneakers. Something you don’t mind getting dirty—”

“I don’t mind getting these dirty.”

“Something more suitable for the forest,” Steve amended. “Sticks, mud, poison ivy. Would hate for the tops of your feet to succumb to that bullshit.”

“Succumb,” (Y/N) repeated. “Big word.”

“Average word,” Steve mumbled, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed.

“Average is fine,” she shrugged. “I have sneakers in my car. We could go after work?”

—

Six o’clock couldn’t have come faster.

Steve had spent the last few hours of his shift trying to best plan his escape from Family Video—an escape that involved pulling (Y/N) into his car before Robin could tell her what Skull Rock really was. Thankfully, (Y/N) hadn’t had the mind to tell Robin what their plans were after work yet, but he knew it would come.

The minute hand finally ticked to the top of the clock. 6pm on the dot. Steve practically threw off his vest and ran to the wall clock to punch out.

“In a rush?” Robin asked.

“Something like that,” Steve said, not wanting to share much more.

“Well, enjoy yourself Rob!” (Y/N) nearly sang, now standing behind Steve waiting for her turn with the wall clock. “I left the counter nice and warm for you!”

“I know you meant that to sound endearing, but it just sounds gross,” Robin laughed, not even looking up from the book she had been reading. “Get out of here before Keith makes you both work overtime.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” (Y/N) said, pushing her pink sunglasses—which were housed in the tiny locker she used every day—onto her head. “Besides, we’ve got plans.”

“We?”

“Gotta go Robin!” Steve could only shout, pushing (Y/N) out of the small room in the back—it could hardly be called a break room. Containing a small T.V on the wall, a stack of lockers, a small fridge, quaint table and a broken microwave.

“Alright, weirdo,” (Y/N) laughed, “we made it outside.”

Steve hand only blinked, but she was right. Somehow he didn’t recall the jaunt from the break room to the front door, much less the fact they made it out to their cars. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she laughed again, “oh.”

He was sure his face was the near same color as her lipstick—cherry red and probably emitting the heat of a thousand suns. “Are you gonna change your shoes?” Somehow he strung together a full sentence.

“Go start up your car, pretty boy,” (Y/N) said smoothly, “I’ll meet you in a second.”

Pretty boy.

Start up his car, he did. He fumbled through the few cassette tapes he stored in his glove box, eager to find one she’d like. Though a thought like this had crossed his mind a handful of times, he never thought she’d actually agree to go out with him. No, not go out, this wasn’t a date. Right?

She had called him pretty boy.

And he was planning on taking her to the unofficial make out spot of Hawkins.

Maybe it was a date.

“There!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sliding into his passenger seat, showing off her worn shoes. “My well-loved sneakers! Just like you requested. How I allowed you to talk me into going to a random forest is beyond me.”

Me too. Steve thought.

“You’re not going to murder me, right?”

“What!?” Steve had already begun driving to their destination, but her sudden question had him nearly swerving off the road. “No!”

“That’s what a murderer would say.”

“I—why would I…?” Steve was at a loss for words. “If I was going to murder you, don’t you think I’d admit to it at this point?”

“No,” she shrugged, crossing her legs. Her sneakers were red too—her favorite color, perhaps? “I assume you’d admit it right before you kill me, not in transit to the murder location.”

Steve could only laugh. “You confuse me.”

“You love me,” she admonished.

Maybe he did, and if he didn’t? He certainly could see himself, though, sooner than later.

It only took another fifteen minutes of driving to reach their destination, parking his beloved BMW in a spot he knew all too well—part of himself cringed that he could admit that, even to just himself. “We’re here.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re not going to murder me,” (Y/N) hummed, hopping out of the car, a spring in her step.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, popping his trunk to dig for a blanket he knew he had left behind for one reason or another. “Come on,” he ducked his head towards a clearing, “it’s this way.”

“You really have to start explaining the appeal, Harrington,” (Y/N) said, pushing past a rather suspicious looking bush, following closely behind Steve. “This trek is nothing to scoff at.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I thought the murder accusations already confirmed that I did not?”

“Yet you still got into a car with me,” Steve said.

“I still got into a car with you,” she repeated.

As if on cue, Skull Rock, in all of its glory, peeked through the brush and into view—thankfully with no one else around.

“We made it!” Steve exclaimed, nearly impressed he remembered how to get here. Quickly unfurling the blanket he grabbed, he sat on the ground. “Come on, I promise it’s clean.”

“Doubting that,” she said, still sitting beside him. “So, spill it, what makes this place so cool?”

Steve took a deep breath.

“I, uh, may have stretched the truth a bit?”

“How far?”

“Huh?”

“How far did you stretch the truth?”

“Not by much…”

“You’re sweating,” she pointed.

“No I’m not!” Steve said, trying his very best to not look down at his pits, afraid they were betraying him. Looking back up at the girl sitting beside him, her ruby lips were twisted in a wicked smirk. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Nah,” she said, almost sounding honest. “But I also know pretty well what goes on around this rock—sick as fuck, by the way, it really looks like a skull.”

“You know about Skull Rock?” He was nearly dejected, embarrassed, even.

“I do.”

“And you still came here with me?”

“If it meant I could spend some time with you outside of work? Sure,” she said with her brilliant smile. “Though, don’t expect any swapping of saliva.”

“Then why…?”

Her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped fully around them. “I don’t have many friends here. You and Robin kind of are it for me, at least, since I moved here. I figured I should try and spend time with y’all before I move again.”

Her big move. The one she was saving up for.

“Back to Chicago, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Though, it’s going to be a while until I do actually move. Who knew trying to rent your own apartment in a big city is stupid expensive? Wait—don’t answer that, that’s a stupid fucking observation.”

“It’s a bit silly,” he agreed, trying his best not to laugh. “But, yeah, way more expensive than Hawkins.”

The sun had begun to set, not that they could see it, through the trees and all, but the sky was now a warm orange. The kind of color that reminded Steve of summer, melted creamsicles and sweet memories.

“What’s in Chicago, anyway?” Steve finally asked, eyes glued to the sky. The question had been on the tip of his tongue since he met her. “I mean, I never really hear you talk much about it—only when you feel the need to dig at Hawkins.”

“It’s where I grew up,” she shrugged. “All of my friends are out there, my life is out there.”

“I mean, you did just say Robin and I were your friends?” He offered, leaning back on his hands.

She narrowed her gaze, pulling her head up from her knees ever-so-slightly. “Most of my friends are out there,” she corrected. “I just… my dad moved out here for work, a job he literally can’t tell us about—my mom is stuck being some bored housewife waiting every night for him to come home, slaving over a home cooked meal, and I’m just his failure of a daughter who works at a video store.”

Steve knows that feeling a bit too well.

“It doesn’t even have to be Chicago,” she chuckled, mostly to herself. “I just can’t stay here. My forward thinking mind is too big for this town. I figure, maybe in the city I can find myself, figure out what this planet has in store for me, you know?”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I mean, I never had the thought to leave Hawkins,” Steve said, still looking up at the sky—darker now, but still orange. “Especially now with all of the…”

How does he explain the Upside Down? Does he explain the Upside Down? No. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.

“…you know, the missing people,” he finally said, finding the right explanation. “But the idea of going to a big city, finding my way and maybe figuring out what this big head is good for?” His self deprecating laugh echoed from under the large rock formation. “I get it.”

“Y’know,” (Y/N) relaxed her grip on her knees, “my mom had hesitations about moving here because of the missing people—afraid I was going to go missing too.”

“And your dad still moved you here anyway?” Steve still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact people would move here willingly, especially all that’s been in the news about their small town.

“I told you, big secret job,” she said, as if that was the only answer. “My dad’s answer to the problem was buying my mom a new kitchen set and me a car.”

“The BMW?”

“Hell yeah,” she snorted. “Though I suppose once I get to the city—any of them, I’ve decided—I’ll sell it. No need for a car if you’ve got decent public transit. I wonder how much I can get for it?”

“Probably less than what you’re thinking.”

“You’re probably right.”

The sun had finally set, leaving a hazy, sort of mystical hue over the rock and clearing.

“You could come with me, you know,” (Y/N) finally spoke up.

“Huh?”

“Get out of Hawkins? Lord knows I’d need a roommate. Rent is gonna be insane regardless.”

He pondered the thought. Moving out of this God-forsaken town with practically the girl of his dreams? It sounded too good to be true. “Huh.”

“You obviously don’t have to answer right now,” she said, nearly flustered. Was she flustered? “It was just a dumb thought…”

“It’s not dumb,” he said steadily, truthfully. “Not dumb at all.”

“What? You’re actually considering it?”

“Don’t ask me things if you’re not serious about them,” Steve joked, pointing at her. “I mean, it sounds pretty perfect. Leaving Hawkins, making a way for myself, trying to not rely on my parents… I dunno. Something to think about.”

She only nodded.

“Of course, I can’t leave yet,” Steve corrected, mostly to himself. “I have… unfinished business.”

“Ominous,” she snorted.

“A man has his secrets,” he smirked, turning to look at her. “Not murder-y secrets, I really can’t stress that one enough.”

“Handsome, funny and mysterious, the full package,” she hummed.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I don’t want to stroke your ego,” (Y/N) said. “Surely you know you’re handsome.”

“I didn’t know you thought I was handsome.”

“I think everyone thinks you’re handsome,” her eyebrow raised. “Especially all those girls who come in to rent movies I know for a fact they have no interest in. Robin says you had a similar effect back at the ice cream place.”

“You’ve talked to Robin about my handsomeness?”

“I’ve talked to Robin about your obliviousness,” she corrected, “I think there’s a difference.”

He felt like his brain was melting. If he had a mirror, he’d check his ears to make sure no pink matter was dripping out. “But you think I’m handsome?” If the lighting hadn’t been as low as it was, he’d probably be able to see just how dark her cheeks had become.

“Irrelevant.”

He found the courage to scoot a little closer to her. “I mean, I think it’s pretty relevant… considering I think you’re pretty handsome too.”

Her head couldn’t have turned faster.

“Beautiful! I meant beautiful! Not that you can’t be handsome,” Steve felt himself choking on his own foot, falling deeper into a hole he knew he couldn’t get out of. “If you’d rather be called handsome, that’s fine by me, but traditionally, you’re stunning—so so pretty and I—”

“Steve—”

“A-and I’m messing this up,” Steve deflates. The crickets around Skull Rock must have been paid actors at this point. Steve made a mental note to bring a can of Raid the next time he came here—revenge of some sorts. “I can’t believe I’m messing this up.”

Something slightly wet touched his cheek.

“I don’t think you’re messing anything up,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from his face. She kissed his cheek. “I think you’re a little silly and overthinking a lot, though.”

“You kissed me?”

“I kissed your cheek, no need to short-circuit,” she smiled softly. “I figured it was a good way to bring you back down to Earth. Did it work?”

He nodded, a bit too fast for his liking. “Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” she said, so sure of herself. “You were really spiraling there for a moment.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

More crickets.

“Would you have kissed Robin on the cheek? If she was spiraling like that?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Just you.”

“Oh.”

“You took me to the make-out spot of Hawkins,” (Y/N) gestured to the rock above them. “Did you expect me to not kiss you?”

“You kissed my cheek,” he clarified, feeling bolder. “I don’t think that counts.”

“Hm,” she tapped her chin in faux-thought. “It probably doesn’t.”

“I could let you try again?”

“Oh you’d let me?” She crossed her arms, voice airy, light.

“Or I could kiss you,” he shrugged. “Dealers choice.”

“Oh what endless options I have,” she laughed, getting up from the blanket. It was only a little scratchy. “Come on, pretty boy, it’s getting late. My mom is probably worried sick I haven’t made it home yet. Probably waiting by the front window with some terrible dinner in the oven, I assume.”

She offered her hand, helping Steve up off the ground. “You’re probably right.”

“This was nice,” she said, walking back to the car. “Thanks for taking me out here, Steve. I finally found the one good thing in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock is just that impressive, huh?” Steve laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Something like that,” her smile was just as big.

BONUS: “Pop your trunk, I’ll put this nasty blanket away,” (Y/N) said, circling to the back of Steve’s car.

“It’s not that nasty,” he snorted, fulfilling her request. Climbing into his car and starting up the engine, he waited for her to throw the scrap of fabric in the back. In the corner of his eye, he could see her through the mirror, staring intently at the contents of his trunk. “How long does it take to put a blanket away?” He sighed, hopping back out of the car to join her, realizing quickly why she was just staring in his trunk.

“Y’know,” she clicked, “this doesn’t really help the whole ‘I’m not gonna murder you’ thing.”

In her hands was his tried and true baseball bat—still outfitted with spiky nails and the very essence of dried blood.

“I-I can explain—”

“You probably can,” she said, throwing the bat back into the trunk, slamming it shut. “How about over dinner sometime?”

He’d be stupid to say no.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x Reader #Steve Harrington x You #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington Imagines #okay fine twist my arm this is loosely based on the btr song of the same name #can't blame a girl for finding inspiration everywhere #does it have a plot? no #do I like pining and love-sick steve? yes

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minoment · 1 year

Note

sub!könig just being absolutely cock drunk on male!dom reader 😍

ALL THESE KÖNIG REQUESTS ARE MAKING ME FERAL. Making big men into messy subs is my favourite past time. Ask and you shall receive 😩👏

"Mein kleines Luder~"

Pairing: Sub!König x Dom!M Reader

Type: Oneshot (Hard NSFW) {not properly proofread}

Warnings (kinda): sub konig, hard and soft dom reader, pinning, bondage, handcuffs, slightly sadistic reader, slightly masochistic konig, begging, a shit load of dacryphelia, mirror kink, blowjob, kind of handjob, knife kink, anal fingering, spit kink, degradation and praise, slapping and impact play, hair pulling, slight milking and cum play, power dynamic, uniform/military role kink?, slight temperature play, humiliation, rough anal sex, doggy style, breath play, lots of overstim, making out, marking/biting, a loving relationship, as well as pet play if you squint...

A/N: This is pure mlm filth so minors do not interact and anyone who identifies feminine do not interact (she/her, she/they, they/she, etc.) thank you!! If you would like to request a fic with fem!reader, my ask box is open. Other than that please don't interact with this specific post, its for the mlm folks! <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT + FEMALE PRESENTING DO NOT INTERACT!! PURE FILTH UNDER THE CUT-

König's back hit the wall, a desperate huff escaping his lips as you pinned his wrists tightly above his head. He was aching, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants so painfully it brought tears to his eyes. The sore need for release reduced him to strangled whimpers and gasps as you stripped his gear off.

Your hands gripped his wrists tighter, preventing any sort of escape as you undressed him. König let out small mewl, the pathetic noise turning into a lewd cry of pain and pleasure as your knee slid roughly against his throbbing crotch. König moaned out again, practically coming in his pants right then and there.

König's unholy noises made the you chuckle lowly and press your knee more firmly against the twitching bulge in his pants. König's eyes rolled back behind his sniper hood, his head thrown back against the wall as another cry ripped from his throat. You gave him mercy, moving your knee away slightly and reducing the man beneath you to a panting, desperate mess.

"B-bitte-" he gasped out, his voice weak and shaky. "Bitte~! Bitte! Please don't do this mein Herr... Scheiße~" His voice broke, tears wetting the balaclava under his hood. "I n-need to cum.. please sir.." He panted, looking up at the other man with a teary gaze. His legs were trembling and eventually gave way. He slid to the floor, a choked sob followed by yet another moan escaping his wet lips.

You grinned in sadistic pleasure, your cock fully hardened at the filthy sight below you. No matter how much pleasure this brought you, deep down you knew König needed it, you needed it too.

"Take off your hood Operator.." you panted softly, reaching down to tug it off either way. The fabric was quickly discarded and König obediently lifted the balaclava over his nose so his mouth was an easy access. The both of them knew their clothes would be long gone by the time they were done, it didn't matter.

König whimpered, the throbbing in his cock bringing him back to the present. He tugged needily at your belt, practically ripping it off you to get what he needed.

You reached down to cup König's jaw, your thumb pushing past his lip and pressing down on his tongue to force his mouth open. König whined, looking up at you expectantly.

You smirked back at him, pulling out your hardened length. "Suck. Look at what you've done with all your bitching and whining. Make me feel good and I might reward you..." you cooed sweetly, leaning your head and forearms against the wall as König took your length into his warm mouth.

König tilted his head back, taking as much of your cock as he possibly could. He gagged softly and moaned as the tip hit the back of his throat, swirling his tongue obediently around your shaft.

Your heavy pants and groans echoed through the room as a warm feeling began to build in the pit of your stomach, the air around you becoming hot. You started to thrust your hips shallowly into König's mouth, making him choke on his sobs as drool and tears wet his chin and throat.

König whimpered, silently unzipping his pants and pulling out his weeping cock. He knew he shouldn't but he just couldn't hold on any longer. He cautiously ran his long fingers up the hot, pulsing length of his cock and circling them around his flushed, sensitive tip.

This was all too much for the poor man, his hips shuddering and bucking upwards into his fist as a lewd sound of pleasure ripped from his throat. He gagged on your cock and moaned, the dirty sounds getting muffled around the thick length in his mouth.

You hissed quietly through gritted teeth, the vibration of his moans feeling like heaven but nonetheless you pulled away and looked down at him with a musing sort of disappointment. König panted and looked up at you woefully, his hand still wrapped tightly around the base of his dick.

"Get on your hands and knees." You ordered softly and König obeyed swiftly, knowing he was definitely not on your good side anymore. A flick of a pocket knife was heard and soon the rest of König's clothes had been sliced and ripped off, his sniper gear long gone.

König let out a squeak, the cold air hitting his sensitive skin. You pressed your thumb against König's entrance, your digit already slicked from his saliva. He whimpered pathetically as he felt your index finger replace your thumb.

"Bitte~" he gasped again, his legs trembling in needy anticipation. "I can't hold on much longer sir-" he choked out, feeling two more thick fingers breach him.

"No need." You growled, handcuffing his sweaty hands to the bedpost. The sturdy steel had always held true, no matter how rough you had been. You smirked, glancing up across the room and seeing your reflections in the full length mirror.

"Since you wanted to touch yourself and cum so badly, I'll just use you like my little fuck-toy until you apologize for being so ridiculously disobedient." You whispered huskily, gripping König's ass and giving it a sharp slap.

König jolted and whimpered, trying to move his hips back onto the thick fingers in his ass. You let out a soft 'tsk' and landed a harsher slap to the back of his thigh, making him sob and moan out.

"I'm gonna milk myself dry inside you until you're begging for mercy Mein kleines Luder~" You cooed, getting on top of the trembling König and grinding your length along the valley of his ass.

"And you're gonna watch-" You purred in his ear, firmly gripping his jaw and forcing him to look at his desperate, needy reflection in the mirror.

König nodded quickly, pre-cum beading from his tip and trickling to the base of his length. "Yes sir-" he whispered meekly, a small moan leaving him as the fat tip of your cock pressed against his entrance.

A strangled, choked sob caught in his throat as you slowly slid your length deep inside him. You stroked the muscles in his back, silently asking when it was ok to move. No matter how much trouble he was in, you were always careful to make sure he wasn't in pain.

A soft sigh of pleasure left your lips as you shifted inside him, relishing in the feeling of his warm, slick walls hugging and contorting around you so sweetly. It was like he was made for you.

The slight movement made König let out a mewl of pleasure, rocking his hips back onto your length. This snapped you back to reality and you clicked your tongue in disapproval.

"Don't move, König-." You said firmly, shifting again just to tease. He whined again, looking at you desperately in the mirror. Using his name during sex always brought him some sort of humiliating pleasure.

"Please..." König muttered, his voice going up an octave pleadingly. "Please fuck me-" he whimpered. You chuckled softly, pressing a soft kiss to his rugged jaw and lacing your hands into his long, dirty-blonde hair.

You tugged slightly, forcing König to look at you both in the mirror just as you dragged your cock out to the tip before slamming it back in to the hilt.

Your hips met his ass, your tip obviously hitting home as König let out a wail of pleasure. His back arched, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You were done being gentle.

König's choked moans and gasps filled the room as you set a punishing pace, locking your legs with his and fucking him into the floor. Your hand gripped his hair, making him watch how deeply you fucked him and how lewd his reactions were.

Not more than a minute later, König's moans became breathy and high pitched before his body convulsed and his head rolled back as he released his load onto the carpet. You smirked cruelly, forcing his head back down to watch himself in the mirror.

König knew he looked like an absolute whore. Your hand in his messy hair, tears rolling down his cheeks, his release dripping down his length onto the floor, and the way his cock bounced with each mind numbing thrust. He blushed deeply at the sight, his breathing ragged and desperate.

"Mein Herr~" he choked out, barely able to speak between uncontrollable moans. "S-so good-" he whispered hoarsely as his upper body gave out, your hand keeping his head up.

"You like being fucked like this huh?" You cooed teasingly above him, your length pounding deliciously into him. "Such a good mutt for me. Even though you can't keep your hands off your fucking cock-" You sneered, accentuating your thrusts to the last few harsh words.

König choked out another pathetic moan of overstimulation, nodding pathetically as best he could.

"Im s-sorry... bitte... aAh~ Es tut mir leid~!" he moaned, his eyes rolling back. His head was hazy at this point, the only thing in his mind was your rough thrusts reaching oh so deep inside him.

"I'm s-sorry for touching m-myself and... aAH~ c-coming without per-mission, mein Herr-" he cried out, not even able to hold his hips and head up anymore due to the overstimulation.

You let out a loving noise of adoration, pressing kisses to his neck, back, and jaw.

"Awwww, you're so.. good for me König~" you whispered in his ear between breathy groans. "Lovely apologizing-" you cooed, thrusting harder and chasing your high.

It wasn't long before your thrusts became sloppy and desperate as you chased your orgasm. You paid no mind to König writhing and moaning out in pleasure as you rutted deeply into him.

You tensed up as a delicious wave of pleasure ripped through your body and filled König up with your release. Ragged pants and gasps filled the room as you slowed and lay your head on your lovers broad shoulders, your head spinning.

König had cum again then collapsed from exhaustion and overstimulation. You pulled him gently out of the mess on the floor, pressing kisses to his neck, face and jaw to make sure he was okay. König let out a muffled noise of comfort and placed his large, calloused hand on the side of your head.

You both stayed there for a bit, collecting yourselves before you pulled out and uncuffed König. He rolled onto his back and gazed up at you with his usual 'I'm so glad you just fucked me' puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry for-" König started before you kissed him hard, tangling your hand in his hair and sliding your tongue in his mouth. This wasn't rough whatsoever, just lovestruck.

Eventually you pulled away for air and looked down at him with a slight smirk. "One more?" you asked softly, leaning down to suckle hickeys all over his marred skin.

König smiled breathlessly and nodded, lifting his hips up needily.

"Yes please~"

_end_

Notes:

OKAY SO, THEORETICALLY THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MORE... but I'm tired and my hands hurt. So lemme know if you want a part two.

As always my asks are open. Check out my fandom list, ask me anything, send me thirsts, doesn't have to be COD or MW2, literally anything.

I do have sub Graves x dom reader (and possibly a mouse x reader too) coming up but other than that not much.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY LOVELIES BYE <3

#dom reader #sub character #sub konig #call of duty #i love him so much #konig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #sub könig #könig #könig cod #könig x male reader #könig smut #könig is babygirlll #fuck

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punkpandapatrixk · 11 months

Text

☕️Soul Story with Your Divine Counterpart ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

A long, long, long time ago, in the harmonic realms of Pure Bliss, there was nothing but Dharma. Bored as whoa from a lack of strife, our Souls began to yearn for Drama. In the theatre of the Universe, Game Masters joined forces to create the most hyper-realistic Game of Polarity—of opposites and contrasts. We were told, we would understand Unity better if we could master Duality.

Divine Pairs were invited for the launch of the Game as the unbreakable bond between them was deemed the most powerful, enough to withstand the chaotic nature of Duality and Polarity. In time, we all jumped into the Game expecting all kinds of immersive experiences of playing knaves and heroes, destroyers and builders, enemies and lovers, et cetera, et cetera.

In the beginning, we played amongst many of our own Kind but eventually met those from other harmonics who had later been invited to the Game, too. In a world of illusions… we were dreaming all kinds of events and adventures with our cosmic avatars, and in time, all kinds of storylines intertwined to weave an even bigger cosmic narrative.

We all played for so long we were beginning to forget our true form. Many of us could no longer recognise each other’s Divine Counterparts. A multitude of shape-shifting had caused a distortion in reconnecting to our Original Memory. The game world had now become a second Reality.

🎧Alone Again, Wonderful World by Plastic Tree

🎧I Love You by Off Course

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

There is a super special behind-the-story for this PAC on Patreon. If you’re already subscribed, don’t forget to check the full post ^o^v

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Finally, Happily Ever After with You♥︎

MOVIE: Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

your Home World – Page of Swords

I have a feeling your Home World (at least one of them that is significant in your current stage of soul evolution) was a relatively new world. You’ve come from a civilisation that prized intellectual pursuits more than anything. Your Kind loved to study; you enjoyed improving your environment and society. Researching plants—understanding them and making chemicals and potions with them—was a pastime of your people. You were working to understand your Planet.

Your Home World had many large, expansive libraries of all the things your people had come to learn. Many people loved to visit the library and read and just have fun studying. You were such big-brained folks. There was no school like we know on Earth. There were academies and laboratories for children to partake in research and new inventions. The weather on your Home World was always pleasantly sunny and you could see buildings that are similar to hot houses on Earth. There were gardens and open fields, of course. Vegs and herbs were your main interest and food was aplenty.

People had roles in society but nobody had any semblance of a concept of what we call ‘jobs’ on Earth. People didn’t work for money. People lived with the joy of knowing that they were alive and that the Planet had provided for them. Your people loved the Planet so much—you appreciated and cherished this new world you were beginning to understand. But… this also meant you didn’t have any concept of conflict, power struggle, and war… You didn’t have a military—never crossed your mind the necessity for such a thing.

And so, when warmongering space invaders attacked your Home World you couldn’t protect yourself.

a promise before birth – 4 of Swords Rx

From the moment the space invaders arrived, it was clear that there was no way your civilisation could stand a chance against the enemy’s warships. The imbalance of military power was too overbearing. You didn’t even have an army, not even a fighter. All you could do was try your best to evacuate your people and escape the Planet. Homes and gardens were destroyed and families were torn apart. Friends and lovers calling out names of lost loved ones. Sisters and mothers shielding children and escaping. Brothers and fathers staying behind to buy time.

This horror was etched in your Soul Memory for a long time. Your heartbreak became a default setting when you chose to be born on Earth. As if, you’d forgotten how it feels like to have peace. But you craved it from the deepest unseen well of your subconscious, and at one point in your soul evolution, you prayed to Infinite Intelligence. You prayed that you could be saved from the looping horror of being trapped in the same scenario of sorrows. You had come to resent the Game.

‘Please, salvage my heart from betrayals, isolation and loneliness.’ Infinite Intelligence heard your plea and whispered: ‘If you could remember your Divine Counterpart, they will remember you, too, and you will be calling out for one another. If you could remember your true form, you will remember what your Divine Counterpart feels (looks) like. And all will be fine in all of the worlds again when you meet.’ And you fell back into slumber to find yourself awake on Earth.

finding each other – 5 of Swords Rx

Earth is a world that is just as war-torn as your Home World, if not a lot worse out here. Being born into a world so reminiscent of all your traumas, navigating Life here has not been easy. As if Infinite Intelligence had played a cruel joke on you. But the truth is, Earth is the perfect place for you right now because by being here you resolve your traumas a lot faster than if you had been born somewhere comparatively better. You are in the midst of recovering from bad dreams of lives lost in wars.

Did it cross your mind that your Divine Counterpart has also been doing the same? You’re not alone. You’re working really hard to purify yourself from all of these bad dreams, bad memories, all so you wouldn’t mistakenly destroy each other when you meet. Infinite Intelligence had arranged for you to face your traumas head on so you wouldn’t have to show your ugly healing to each other. That scenario isn’t for you. Isn’t it so graceful?

Although it’s hard to face your challenges feeling like you’re all alone in the wild wide world, trust me, it’s better to have those quarrels and separations with people who mean little. I can hear a soft voice from the aether saying: ‘You’re… the only reason I’m still breathing… We will meet. When I’m good, I can make everything in your world good!’ So confident. So loving, indeed.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💜

story behind your Union – Gold Physician (Hippocrates)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Ambition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – True Calm That Comes Only After the Storms

MOVIE: Grave of the Fireflies & My Neighbor Totoro (both 1988)

your Home World – 8 of Cups

Quite similar to Pile 1, you still carry deep sadness and heavy regrets in your heart that are, truthfully, only remnants of memories from your Home World. Your Home World was quite advanced technologically. Your civilisation depended on the Masculine energy—Yang energy. Societies were run on varying degrees of strictness but the modus operandi was clear: the masculine form and structural ways of running things were favoured.

Obviously, not everybody was happy about that though for a long time, peace was maintained. However, influences from visitors and ambassadors from other civilisations (by comparison they were freer; more fluid) eventually seeped into the consciousness of the main populace, and in time, underground rebellion groups were formed. These alliances were made amongst multiple races of beings that felt they weren’t accepted (or respected enough) by the main races.

Friction began to tear apart the establishment and government officials tried their utmost to crack down dissents. Many went to prison or got killed in the numerous conflicts that were becoming a plague in your Home World. In a last attempt to preserve the codes of freedom, many elders told their young warriors to flee and find refuge in other Worlds that were, hopefully, more balanced in their operation of Yin and Yang.

a promise before birth – 3 of Cups

You left your Home World carrying a promise to come back and make everything better after you’ve learnt enough about the ways of other Worlds. Tears were inevitable but the determination in your heart was solid. You were a new legion of Ambassadors from your own Home World. You didn’t really want to think of yourselves as refugees, after all, many of your Soul Family members were still living alright in your Home World though things were just… a little too unpleasantly unjust.

When you departed your Home World, you created a mirror image of yourself to accompany you across the Multiverse—a divinely ordained Counterpart. This was possible by the grace of the Infinite Intelligence, of course. In the beginning, you went to the same places and learnt similar things. Over time, your understanding of each other’s capabilities became clearer and, with confidence, you decided you would travel separately from now on.

You had this unbreakable bond and an immense capacity for telepathy, so you weren’t the slightest bit worried about losing contact with your Counterpart. You believed that it would be just as easy to call upon each other and reunite as you deemed fit. Alas, your travels brought you to Earth, finally, and things over here were just… slightly over-the-top chaotic for even you to handle. The level of evil on this new World was… NEXT LEVEL.

finding each other – 7 of Pentacles Rx

Crash landing on Earth! Coming here felt like a major accident. Your whole world upside down. The reason being something related to betrayal trauma. To find a World that’s even more polarised than your own; to see a World that operates on the highest level of toxic masculinity; to be in a World this corrupted by its own leaders; needless to say the whole being born thing was traumatising.

The shocks of being born on Earth made it difficult to reconnect with the essence of who you are on a Soul level. Thus you forgot how to contact your Divine Counterpart. You’ve felt like you have so little guidance living Life on Earth. But deep in your psyche, you’ve always known you’re here for something greater than the mundane. You know you don’t belong to this Earth. You’re here on a mission. You want to build something with someone… Someone dear, but you can’t remember.

Can you believe that you and your Divine Counterpart are meant to inspire the dissolution of anger? Yes, this World so deep in the clutches of aggression. You are special Souls who have been ordained to meet on Earth when the time is right to help inspire peace—after all, it is what you seek and Infinite Intelligence is arranging every couple’s rendezvous in the most magnificently mysterious ways. I think your finding each other is just gonna happen naturally by virtue of matching vibrations. So~ Keep focusing on your Life’s mission and just like that~ BOOM! There they are.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💚

story behind your Union – Green Historian (Herodotus)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – ‘Kiss You Better; I’m Your Only Other’

MOVIE: Princess Mononoke (1997)

your Home World – 6 of Wands

The Home World that’s currently significant in your soul evolution was a world of glory and magnificence. Your Home World looked nothing like what we know of abundance and celebration on Earth; it was such a rich and happy World. It emanated so much pink, gold, blue, turquoise and soft violet. Back in your Home World, people didn’t even look… humanoid, per se. Your Home World was… fluid. It was a different type of consciousness. Life itself was fluid. Existence was simply flowing with the sweet symphony of the Cosmos.

Your Home World operated on the basis of Love. People were very kind and jolly most of the time. Your people didn’t really understand this whole concept of non-Love. Suffering and terror… what the heck are those? Manipulation and lies… for what? Taking advantage of someone else, murder and theft… but… why? All of those concepts were so foreign yet so fascinating to your people.

When you heard that Earth needed some high-vibe volunteers to ‘raise her vibrations’, actually, not that many people from your Home World were interested LMAO The risks of being separated and forgetting Love sounded not worth a good dime. Your World was so peaceful, loving and fulfilling. But the call from Earth felt a little too urgent! So… Some curious and courageous Souls finally decided to take a test drive. Just a preview. It couldn’t be that bad, you thought.

a promise before birth – King of Wands

With gleeful optimism, you promised people back Home that you would be back with grand stories! Off you and your Soul Mates went to a big academy (on another World) to study and prepare for a reincarnation on Earth. Yup, unlike the other Piles in which they couldn’t help but arrive on Earth, you chose to come here out of genuine curiosity. You were expecting dramatic fun!

You and your Divine Counterpart were giggling with anticipation as you prepared yourselves to dive into the Earth Matrix. You and your Divine Counterpart are powerful Souls; you were confident this Game would be between easy to medium difficulty, although you had been told Earth Game’s level of easy is the equivalent of extra hard anywhere else! Your optimism deafened you to that piece of information🤷🏻‍♀️

You kissed your Divine Counterpart and said, ‘I love you. Let’s find each other quickly in this Game. Let’s have fun and then go back to tell everyone what we’ve seen! It’ll be great!’ Your Divine Counterpart nodded in agreement and waved to all members of your Soul Family and they did the same. With great determination to serve your collective consciousness back Home, you dove into the illusions of Life on Earth🌎

finding each other – 5 of Pentacles

Arriving here, from the moment you were born as a child the world was already chaos. The reality of Earth was too shocking to bear alone. Who would’ve thought the density of Earth would cause you this much pain? Physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, everythingally. You thought, ‘Damn, my training at the academy told me nothing, NOTHING, of this!’ Literally you didn’t expect Earth’s negative polarisation would be THIS fucked up.

For you’ve come from a world of nothing but Love, Life on Earth was soul-shattering to say the least. Many moments you’ve thought it impossible to go back to the frequencies of Love and you became dejected as fuck. But you’ve only forgotten that YOU are Love. You carry the memories of all your collective consciousness that supports your coming here. As long as you tap into this Love deep within yourself, so shall you be reconnected to the essence of who you are on a profound Soul level. There, as well, you will feel the heartbeat of your Divine Counterpart.

For you’ve come from Love, it’s as if your Divine Counterpart had left a piece of their Heart in yours so you never feel alone. You are both a complete whole carrying a piece of each other’s essence everywhere you go—a perfect personification of the Yin-Yang symbolism. You are literally inseparable and have never truly been separated. A piece of your Heart in theirs is always reminding them of their ultimate goal in this incarnation: to find each other, weave stories together, and infuse a piece of yourselves into the collective conscious of Mankind as a token of gratitude—for all the experiences.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💛

story behind your Union – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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blindmagdalena · 6 months

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I’m in dire need of angst. How do you think he would react to someone who didn’t have a close relationship with their parents? I’m just imagining an awkward Christmas dinner, their family totally sucking up to Homelander. But also not-so-subtlety making passive agressive/snarky comments towards the reader.

It was definitely his idea to go to Christmas dinner in the first place. You've been dreading it. He insisted, though. You don't want to deny him this when he doesn't even have a family, and he's clearly so excited by the prospect of it.

And to be fair, it started off well enough. Your family was so excited to meet Homelander. They couldn't believe this was really happening!

It didn't last long, though. Your dad just had to make an offhanded remark about how you sure were "dating up."

That was the beginning of the end.

Through the night, Homelander grows gradually less boisterous. He's talking less, listening more. You're uncomfortable, dejected, but ultimately you knew it would end up this way. You just wish he would have listened to you.

By the time dinner rolls around, the tension in the air is palpable. Homelander has stopped preening under the praises of your family. You want nothing more than to eat and leave.

The final straw is when your mother sneaks in a snipe about how you "Really could have dressed up for the occasion."

"Well, Sheryl," Homelander begins, his tone immediately catching the attention of the entire table. "You could have tasted the mashed potatoes before you salted them into an inedible sodium fuckfest, but hey, I guess that's beyond your scope of competence."

The silence is deafening.

He isn't done. "God, y'know. You people. You had one job. All you had to do was be good. Nice. Shovel some food into your face and not be total fucking pricks at every available moment, but y'couldn't even manage that. Y'had to air out eeevery single little nitpick and grievance that sprang into your circus peanut brains."

You're stunned, jaw hanging. Your mother's expression mirrors yours. With a noise of indignation, your father begins to stand.

"Sit the fuck down, Henry," Homelander snaps with a flare of crimson to his gaze that puts a shiver down your spine. It works. Your father sits, and the light fades away. "Now that's the smartest thing you've done all night. Didn't think you had it in you."

Homelander pushes his mostly full plate away and sighs, picking up the napkin from his lap to fold. "I was the one who asked to come here, y'know. Practically begged. Thought Christmas might just be a grand ol' time. Do you know how often I'm wrong? I'll give you a hint: it's not often. But you..." He wags his finger between them, smiling more maliciously than you've ever seen him. "You folks really got me tonight."

He stands up. Your heart is pounding in pure anxious adrenaline. For a moment you have a terrible vision of him leaving you here, furious with them and you that this wasn't the experience he had been hoping for.

His hand in your face snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up sharply, and see him looking down at you, that wicked expression suddenly much softer. Kind, even with that anger still simmering under the surface. You close your mouth and take his hand, swallowing.

"Lucky for me I already got my Christmas wish, hmm?" He says, offering you a little wink. "You are... perfect," he says, leaning in to press a tender little kiss to your forehead, emphasizing it with a pointed mmmwuah. "No idea how you escaped all that unscathed," he says, nodding his head in your parents' direction. "So, how about you and I blow this popsicle stand and go find a whooole lotta mistletoe to stand under?"

You exhale a breathless little laugh, tears prickling hotly at your eyes, overwhelmed by how thoroughly he came to your defense. "I'd really, really like that."

Glancing over, Homelander offers your parents one last tight, venomous little smile. "Merry Christmas, you miserable fucks."

Which is exactly how he signs every single Christmas card he maliciously sends your parents each year from that day forward.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #my writing #YOU SNEAKY YOU GOT ME WRITING CRIMMAS EARLY #idk if this was particularly angsty but i hope you enjoy anyways haha #wow i'm in a mood for vicious homelander today aren't i???#i haven't answered asks this much in ages hahaha

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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months

Text

Y’know, what, though? I kinda like that Izzy’s arc is so messy and imperfect and he doesn’t learn everything he needs to. I like that he tries to be better but is still so wrapped up in a whole history with Ed and his own very skewed perceptions of who he is and who Ed is that he never really escapes from. That’s…realistic. He still doesn’t get it, a lot of it, but he’s trying a bit harder to get it. He tries to make amends, even though they’re imperfect and problematic. He tries to tell Stede that he’s sorry (words he’d never actually use) and at least offer a hand when needed.

Izzy never gets it, but he does get better at trying to get it, and he does find a connection with people that aren't Ed. That doesn’t absolve him - I don’t think the narrative does either - and it doesn’t undo all the terrible shit he did and said. But it’s very real in a lot of ways. I don’t think we have to feel good about him in the end to appreciate that his arc is about a deeply flawed antagonist who tries, eventually, to be a better person, and still maybe fails at it.

(I completely get why other folks were dissatisfied with that arc, and every time I go back to Season 1, I am very much like "yeah, shoot his leg!" But we so often see the antagonists as purely antagonists being antagonistic that having one who changes without fully changing, who does have a dissatisfying ending in some ways because life's a dick, is fascinating to watch.)

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 #ofmd meta #i also object to be called a “hater” when discussing the actual things that happen on the actual show #but that's more a fandom thing than the fault of the character

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wannab-urs · 2 months

Text

Outtakes - Monsterfucking

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Here's a list of fics I've read where either the Pedro boy, the reader, or everyone involved is a monster of some sort.

Summaries and tags are, in most cases, provided by the author - please be sure to read them as some of these fics may have content you do not wish to read.

Pedro boys currently included are: Joel Miller, Ezra, Din Djarin, Dave York, Marcus Pike, Dieter Bravo, Jack Daniels, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell, Max Phillips, and Tim Rockford.

updated 3/27/2024

Demon

Met the Devil Last Night

Joel one shot by @pedgito

I made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and...well, yeah. This is pure filth and nothing else. Porn with minuscule plot, if you will

fem!reader, demon!joel, no specific age gap since dude is a literal demon, but reader is early 20s and I picture Joel to be his younger self (around 36), mentions of su*cidal ideations, this all a completely made up concept pls don't come for me about rituals, ect i will cry. virgin!reader, reader's father is a priest and horrible (just a total douche)/mother isn't alive, spitting, oral, unprotected piv, blood drinking, competency kink, innocence kink, mutual masturbation

In Every Lifetime

Ezra series by @xdaddysprincessxx

It’s fall of 1974 in your quiet small town of Chesterfield when everything falls apart. Or is it the beginning?

Reader is mid to late 20s, witchcraft, tarot, yes the witchy things depicted in this is real witchcraft things, use of Latin

Common Courtesies

Din one shot by @juletheghoul

Pride and Prejudice vibes but Mr. Darcy is a sex demon

**pussy-eating** language, age-gap (legal, reader is of age) dirty talk, supernatural elements, sexist society, sexist comments from readers father

Solum

Dave York one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Are you lost?" Your heart seizes with fear at the deep rumbling voice, head jerking to look in the direction it came from. It’s too dark. You can’t see anything. "Who’s—who’s there?" You ask, hoping you sound braver than you feel. "You didn’t answer my question,” it said. “Are you lost?' You swallow. You shouldn’t be here. You’ve never stepped foot in this building before today. You have no business here. But lost? No. You’re exactly where you set out to be.

SMUT, dubious consent [reader wants to be with him, but he's a demon so you know—it's a little influenced]—dead dove, this is horror and Dave York is an actual demon who kills people, graphic violence, body horror, a dash of blood kink, oral sex

Sell My Soul For You

Marcus P one shot by @absurdthirst

During girls night out, you accidentally dial your boyfriend, Marcus Pike. He hears you complain about how vanilla your sex life is and that you need to him to be more dominant. Marcus proves he’s willing to do anything to please you, even if the cost is his soul.

Angst, hurt feelings, demon possession, dominant!Marcus, oral (male and female receiving), face fucking, spanking, pussy slapping, spitting, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, bondage/handcuffs, anal play, double penetration (fingers and cock), soft aftercare.

Incubus

Crawling Back to You

Dieter one shot by @prolix-yuy

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

religious corruption kink, bastardizing prayers, brief drug use, mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, breaking a hymen, descriptions of blood, biting and drawing blood, pheromone incubus anatomy, size difference/kink like whoa, monster transformation, monster fucking, PiV sex, wildly unrealistic sex, kind of dubious consent in the way that she has no idea what she's getting into so Dieter checks in A LOT, consent is sexy and monsters especially should ask for it, Reader has no idea what she's doing when it comes to summoning an incubus.

Dream Within a Dream

Ezra one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Your dreams have become the escape from your draining life. When you discover you are not alone in your dreamworld, will all the aspects lacking in your waking life be fulfilled by your handsome companion?

dream fucking, loss of virginity, depictions and deviations of supernatural lore, erotic gore

Cryptid

Mothman Fever

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.

Smut, canon divergence, semi-public sex, alcohol, no outbreak, pet names (luna), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, PiV sex, sex pollen, dubcon, monsterfucking

Oh, Honey

Joel series by @lincolndjarin

you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

Soulmates AU, eventual smut, teratophilia, graphic descriptions of violence, explicit descriptions of menstruation, graphic descriptions of the mortuary process, horror, depictions of extreme fear, body horror, graphic depictions of death, eldritch horror. this is a monster fucker fic, proceed accordingly

Sanguine

ˆEzra one shot by marisferasiop

since being turned as a boy into- whatever liminal state of cryptid he is now- Ezra has walked this earth ageless and alone, never finding his place or a partner for long. He interrupts your meal in the city one evening, and brings you home to strike up a deal; feed from him, alone, and keep one another safe from discovery. The fact that he finds his purpose under the soft graze of your teeth and home between your thighs is a nice side effect.

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

Tentacles

MDKT Sex Pollen

Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Your patrol with Joel goes a little sideways

Dead Dove Do Not Eat/DDDNI, noncon/heavy dubcon, body horror, tentacles, mouth r*pe, double/triple penetration, bondage, non-consensual bondage, choking, deep throating, pheromones, sex pollen, tentacles, mind fuck/mind break, brainwashing, guilt, trauma, trauma bonding. Let me know if I missed anything.

Taungsdays, am I right?

Din one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You awaken to find yourself and Din in an alien position.

Smut, dubcon/noncon, pheromones, tentacle sex, bondage, mind-fuck, alien sex, unprotected PiV, anal sex, double penetration, dirty talk

Dragon

Promise

Ezra one shot by @criticallyacclaimedstranger

You are taken from you village by a dragon, and he has an obscene proposition for you.

Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucking, initial dubcon (sort of a damned if you do damned if you don't deal), dragon fucks reader, Breeding, Oviposition, Stomach Bulge, PIV Sex, Loss of Virginity, Painful Sex, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, dragon!ezra is really good with his tongue, Squirting, All's well that ends well though, seriously I don't know how to warn for this fic guys, dragon biology is weird, DON'T LOOK AT ME! Light Bondage, drugging, pet names

Werewolf

Bad Moon Rising

Jack series by @wardenparker

When a handsome stranger called Jack shows up on your struggling ranch looking for work, you’re more than happy to take him in - and into your bed, as well.Death of a parent, loss of a spouse, general family drama.

Vaginal sex, oral sex, rough sex, Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy is basically a life motto here, Gunshot wound, first aid things, blood mention, raw meat mention. Vaginal sex, oral sex, rough sex, so much cum, size kink, squirting, anal play/ass eating, monster fucking.

Shifter

SNAFU

Frankie series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You’ve done this thousands of times, brought new teams to heel, be it in Britain, Japan, Korea, yet the States are always the hardest to wrangle, the mixture of over-hyped masculinity, the general military bravado, whatever it was, you always ran into trouble. But nothing has ever come close to the new Shifter Charlie Team, and boy, are you in for the biggest challenge of your life.

Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shifter AU, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, eventual Frankie x reader, former Jason x Reader, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Military, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Pack Dynamics, Pack Cuddles, Pack Building, Strong Female Characters, strong female lead

Alien

Kudzu

Ezra one shot by @beskarberry

a familiar stranger shows up at the doorstep of your infirmary with unfamiliar wounds. You're no doctor, but masquerading as one makes you the only one in the position to save his life. Can you win out against his extraterrestrial illness, or will his new abilities stake a claim in you as well?

NON-CON/DUB-CON, human/alien hybridization, forced breeding/impregnation/birth, rough/feral sex, sex pollen, body worship, cervix penetration, cum inflation, knotting, a wisp of a/b/o. Nonsexual: wound care and dressing, hurt/comfort, a little whumpish, shootouts, blood, dumb jokes, cheesy ending

Jizz Fingers

various boys series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

An intergalactic creampie love story.

Smut, alternate universe, aliens, crack fic, penetrative vaginal sex, creampie

Mermaid

Rises the Moon

Joel one shot by @psychedelic-ink

As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

mention of joel from time to time visiting a brothel, loneliness, mermaid anatomy things, oral (fem receiving), piv, touch starved!joel and reader, mild breeding kink, squirting

Vampire

Sated

Joel one shot by @softlyspector

Joel just wants you to eat well

love as being consumed, blood drinking, smut from start to finish (piv, f!receiving oral, fingering), Joel's praise kink, talk of eating, consuming, drinking, hunger, etc, vampires you get it.

Attraction Spell

Joel one shot by @jksprincess10

Vampire Joel finds witchy reader in her shop asks her for a love spell

DDDNE, noncon/dubcon, stalking, blood play, using blood as lube, ambiguous ending, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise kink, choking, pain kink, rough sex, minimal editing.

Bleed for me

Din series by @saradika

When it's revealed that the Mand'alor is seeking a companion, you find yourself among those hoping to be chosen. A life of luxury in exchange for your blood seems a fair trade - even if you're hiding a closely-kept secret. One that would certainly put your life in danger.

vampires, alternate universe, canon divergence, blood/drinking blood, shared memories, angst, death/violence, biting, body worship, possessive!pleasure!dom!din, implied aphrodisiacs, mind meld, praise kink, oral, piv, marking

The Special One

Joel one shot by @toxicanonymity

You meet a handsome stranger on a night out with friends. The last thing you're expecting is to be chained up in his basement.

Smut, age gap, alcohol, drugging and kidnapping, chains/restraints, blood and its consumption, oral sex (female receiving), period cunnilingus, dubcon, held in captivity, reader can menstruate, male masturbation, vampire!Joel, alternate universe, dark!Joel

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

vamp but it's you

Everyone at this party's a vampire

Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

"you look so pretty like this."

briefly discussed necrophilia, innuendo, heavy petting

Sanguine

Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

vamp but it's everyone

a court of fangs and foxgloves

Oberyn/Max P one shot @psychedelic-ink

After you left the court and hence Oberyn, no one is eager to forgive you for your betrayal. Especially those closest to you.

Smut, MMF threesome/orgy, voyeurism, mlm dynamics, Dom/sub dynamics, sub!Max, switch!reader, dom!Oberyn, rimming, ass play, anal sex, penetrative vaginal sex, biting, mentions of blood, vampirism

I Bite Back

One shot by me

Max Phillips is seemingly always in command, always domineering, always on top… except when he’s with you.

Dom!Reader, Bratty Sub!Max, pegging… duh. This is technically monsterfucking also lmao. Aftercare is implied because I'm implying it here, I didn't write that in. Oh also vamp!reader if you want but I don't really make that explicit

Red Right Hand

one shot by me

You and Max have dinner and then you get freaky. It’s almost too much for poor little Maxxie to handle.

Pure porn, pwp, Blood drinking (they’re both vampires), minor character death (your victim lol), murder… obviously. sub!Max, Dom!reader, unprotected PiV (they’re vampires, you are not), uhhh blasphemy probably, face riding, cum eating, Max’s vamp face, oral m! and f!receiving, overstimulation m!receiving, multiple male orgasms, refractory period nonexistent due to vampire fuckery, ass play m!receiving, praise kink, use of pet names/titles (Mistress for reader/ baby boy, pet, Maxxie, and one surprise for Max), aftercare, no use of y/n.

Only Lovers Left Alive

Joel Series by @atinylittlepain

He offers her another option between life and death. How could she refuse?

Smut, dubcon, gore, blood and bloodplay, dark themes, cowboy!vampire!Joel, set in the past, alternate universe

vamp but it's max phillips

With Cherries on Top

series by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

After countless late nights and giving up important things in your life for a job and a man that refuses to promote you, your family begs you to quit when you break it to them that you have to miss your grandmother’s 85th birthday. Max Phillips may have left the country an American citizen but he came back an undead vampire, meaning his status in the States is no longer valid. In order to not get deported to Romania, he tells immigration that the two of you are getting married and he strikes a deal to make it worth your while.

Smut, language, adult themes, sexual innuendos, workplace harassment, family issues, angst, hurt/comfort, manipulation

A Little Lipstick Never Hurts

Reader/Max/Dieter series by @max--phillips

Max tries to skip his morning inspection, but gets caught breaking one of the rules you set for him anyway. A punishment is in order. / Max realizes a fantasy, and you enlist Dieter Bravo to help you deliver. / You receive a very hot video from your boyfriends while you are at work. The making of said video requires Max to break some rules you'd previously set out for him. He and Dieter make it up to you very easily.

Forced Feminization, but it's consensual, Femdom, Chastity Device 24/7, D/s dynamic, Sex Toys, BDSM, reader referred to as Mistress and Ma'am, Impact Play, Riding Crop, Bondage, Anal Fingering, Pegging, Butt Plugs, Degradation, Deepthroating, face fucking, gagging, spit, ruined orgasm, Nipple Clamps, Cum Play, Cum Eating, Oral Sex, Aftercare, there is NO misgendering, Max's ass does get referred to as his pussy and his dick his clit, but that's as far as that goes, MMF, threesome, PIV, double penetration, cock cages, ball gag, choking, max is a vampire, blow jobs, sex tapes, cum swapping, rule negotiations, fluff

Reflective

series by @prolix-yuy

His management style is effective AND refreshing. And as his executive assistant, you’re partially to thank. But as your professional relationship blurs, are you getting too close to the middle manager monster of nightmares?

horror elements and themes, graphic descriptions of blood including drinking, background character un-death, violence, fingering (f-receiving), vomiting (not descriptive), descriptions of a panic attack, a dabble of sleazy coworkers, playing fast and loose with vampire lore. mirror shenanigans, fingering (f-receiving), oral sex (f-receiving), PiV sex (don’t be a fool wrap your tool), playing fast and loose with vampire lore.

Lust for a vampire

one shot by @idolatrybarbie

A lot of oddballs and strange characters visit a vampire strip club in a tourist town on the border. Max Phillips is unlike any of them.

Smut, mentioned drug use, background sex work, dubcon, supernatural stalking, blood, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, spit, physical altercation, vaginal fingering, pet names (sweet thing, honey, sweetheart)

The Impaler

Tim Rockford/Max/Reader one shot by @kiwisbell

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

vampires, gothic architecture, slightly dubious consent, implied mind alteration/control, murder, death, blood, threesome, lots of biting, spanking, spitroasting, masturbation, DVP, fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap ur vampire dicks pls), wife sharing, free use kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), exchanging fluids, spitting, disgusting and filthy, max using cringey nicknames for reader’s pussy but it’s charming bc it’s max, handcuffs, light bondage, hair pulling

I cannot get you close enough

one shot by @leslie-lyman

“You have to invite me in, sweetheart.” Oh. Right. Vampire. “Come in, please,” you say demurely, and Max’s smile widens as he steps over the threshold into your apartment. He reaches for you again immediately, kicking your door closed and pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a polite little Omega.”

A/B/O dynamics; one small scene of men being creepy and threatening towards reader (but, perhaps surprisingly, one of those men is not Max); extremely self-indulgent Halloween costumes on the part of your author; a bit of angst; fEeLiNgS; absolutely way too much plot and character backstory for what was supposed to just be porn; Alpha!Max is his own warning; heat sex; biting; blood-drinking; breeding kink; many, many creampies; Max has an absolutely filthy mouth; look, it’s heat sex with Max, it probably (hopefully?) entails exactly what you think it does

All Mouth

one shot by @idolatrybarbie

max phillips and prompt no. nine— "you look so pretty like this." with a twist!

reader is not American/not an "American vampire", porn with mild plot, pet names (honey, baby, sweetie, Maxxie), all the usual vampire genre warnings, including but not limited to - graphic blood and gore, cannibalism, mention of scars, horror themes, love as consumption, smut - mommy kink, degradation (max gets called a slut), cock slapping, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, handjob, alcohol mention, fluff.

Happy Reading!

#i meant to set this to post on my birthday oops #fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the spreadsheet outtakes #the spreadsheet digest outtakes #outtakes #monsterfucking

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blurredcolour · 1 month

Text

Parting Gifts

[One-shot]

John Brady x Female!Reader

John Brady cannot stand watching your oblivious Department Head make continued advances towards you while he is stuck on the bandstand performing at a concert. He expresses this displeasure to you with actions rather than words as soon as he is free to do so.

Warnings: Era-typical Sexism/Misogyny Alcohol Consumption, Unwanted Advances, Smoking/Tobacco, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [softdom!Brady, possessive!Brady, fingering] - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Really not a whole lot of plot here folks, mostly just the need for Brady to do unspeakable things...and play his saxophone. Special shoutout to @precious-little-scoundrel for the Brady brain rot and listening to me scream about him a lot lately.

Word Count: 2337

-------------------------

Sioux City, Iowa - January, 1943

Leroy Anderson was going to get himself killed. Well, he would if it were possible for looks alone to kill a man, for the pure fury in John’s eyes as the frustratingly oblivious man approached you for the fifth time was unmistakable even though his cheeks inflated rather adorably as he continued to dutifully play his saxophone. You were honestly only in attendance to watch the performance of the 100th’s band, entertaining the local populace of Sioux City, Iowa in gratitude for tolerating their invasion earlier that month, and not interested in dancing with anyone other than their handsome saxophone-playing pilot Lieutenant John Brady.

You had been quite taken with John Brady since the moment you had laid your eyes on him late on January 2nd, lost in the streets of Sioux City with the address of a local tobacco shop clutched in his hand and a bewildered expression on his face. On your way from your job at the T.S. Martin Department Store to the apartment you shared with your close friend Fern Westcott, you had stopped to try and give him directions. When his eyebrows had crinkled helplessly in confusion, it had not taken long for you to decide to guide him there yourself, waiting patiently for him to make his purchase of rather fine pipe tobacco as he then insisted on escorting you home in turn. Never mind that he did not know the way and only ended up more lost on account of it.

What had followed had been a rather intense few weeks of courtship whenever he managed to escape the base, quickly learning his way around the city…and your skirts. The entire group was growing convinced they would be cleared for overseas duty any day now and your time with him was feeling precariously short, making the continued interruptions of your department head, whose advances you had been dodging for months now, all the more tedious.

Upon arrival at the dancehall, decked out with streamers in the blue and gold of the 8th Air Force and a huge banner that read ‘We’ll Miss You 100th’ you had selected a spot along the wall with a clear view of John. Fern had offered to check your winter coat and returned, briefly, with the tag before allowing herself to be swept off by one of the many handsome young men in attendance. She was a stunning blonde with green eyes and a bright laugh, fairly having to beat them off if she wanted a break – though it never seemed she did, happy to dance for hours. Meanwhile you could barely get through one song without being proposition by the nasal voice of Leroy, his shiny face inserting itself into your view. You did your utmost to remain polite and not turn him down too harshly.

“Oh maybe the next one.”

“Just enjoying my drink, thanks.”

“I’m still a little tired from work, Leroy, but thank you.”

“I’m sure Fern would love a dance with you, Leroy.”

“Almost ready, Leroy.”

You tried changing sides of the dancefloor, hiding behind other couples, nursing a drink. None of these tactics worked for very long. With each of his intrusions, you noted John’s lips growing tighter around the mouthpiece of his instrument, his grip turning his fingertips white, but he remained on the bandstand, dutifully playing out the set which, to your recollection, only had a few more songs. After the fifth rebuffed invitation, Fern mercifully intervened and pulled you out onto the dancefloor to join numerous other pairs of friends who were dancing with one another.

“You’re a lifesaver Fern…” You muttered gratefully and the pair of you tried not to laugh too loudly as you struggled to figure out who would lead.

“If that man wasn’t responsible for signing our timecards…”

You gave her a knowing huff, wishing more than anything you could firmly dismiss his advances, but to do so risked your position in the housewares department. “I put in for team lead with the mail order department since Artie left, we’ll see what happens.”

“Well we’d miss you dearly but for your sake I truly–”

Fern’s reply was cut off by the sharp tap on her shoulder by the fairly grinning Leroy, his gleeful expression making you shudder involuntarily. You had not even made it one song before he had found you amidst the sea of swaying humanity.

“May I cut in?”

To turn him down on the edge of the dancefloor was one thing, but people were already casting glances your way for the obstacle your trio was creating. If you were to refuse now it would truly qualify as making a scene, and that must be avoided at all costs.

“Certainly.” You summoned a polite smile and nodded reassuringly to Fern who immediately found another partner to whisk her away.

Keeping your arms stiff, you managed to maintain a generous amount of distance between your bodies, despite the insistent pressure of his hand on your lower back. The other hand that clung to yours was remarkably clammy and there was something sour on his breath. It took a great deal of strength to maintain a polite expression on your face as he clumsily led you through the last two songs of the set, his brassy blond hair plastered to his skull with an excessive amount of pomade as he leered at you triumphantly. You often wondered why a man like him, only a few years older than you and seemingly 1A, had yet to enlist or be drafted. If only.

You could not wrench yourself from Leroy’s arms fast enough as the band finished their final number with a flourish, flashing him a tight smile and wishing him a ‘goodnight’ before quickly making your way toward the front of the stage as the audience applauded the soldiers-turned-entertainers. It was not long before a uniform-clad arm was sliding around your waist.

“You did great, John” You rushed out brightly as you turned to look at him warmly, but he was already guiding you around the side of the stage, face still tight.

“Come help me with something, sweetheart.” His voice was taut, and his statement was not really a request, even though the words would normally have comprised one.

Chaos erupted in your abdomen, an erratic swooping in your stomach contrasting sharply with a newly familiar heaviness lower down, and all from just the tone of his voice. The promise it carried. You knew he was not annoyed with you, but the mood he was in was certainly one that usually held certain physical outcomes for you. Or at least it had the last time he had acted this way. Following without comment, John led you into the green room where all sorts of cases lay open, ready to store the band’s instruments once they returned.

So far it seemed he was the first to return here and the pair of you paused briefly for him to secure his saxophone before he resumed his progress toward a door at the back of the room which was revealed to be a small washroom. You were not afforded much time to take it in, however, as his mouth was promptly on yours while his free hand focused on closing and locking the door behind you once he had pulled you inside.

Gasping sharply, you gripped the lapels of his uniform jacket, tilting your head back to yield to his demanding kiss as he backed you against the edge of the counter, arm around your waist coiling tighter. Gripping your chin with his long fingers, he pulled back to look over your slightly dazed face with darkened eyes, pupils eclipsing his blue irises as he began to pluck at the front buttons of your dress. As he bared the skin of your collarbones and the tops of your breasts, his head bowed to possessively nip and hungrily suck along your flesh, leaving you to grasp at his shoulders, desperately seeking anchor whilst attempting to smother your noises of pleasure in the back of your throat.

Clenching your thighs together as your folds grew increasingly damp and desperate for attention, you bit your lip in a mixture of regret and anticipation as John’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, a teasing huff escaping from his nostrils across your damp skin as he had clearly caught the movement.

The hems of your dress and slip fluttered as his hands slid to skate up the backs of your thighs, his fingertips making you jump slightly as they met your skin, breath hitching in your throat as gooseflesh erupted in the wake of his touch. Reaching the waistband of your underwear, John peeled them from your body, sliding the fabric down your legs before gripping your hips to guide you to sit up on the countertop. Bending down to slip your underwear over one shoe and then the other, you opened your mouth to inquire what he intended to do with them only to be met with his tongue sliding along yours, erasing any and all thought from your mind.

Fingers sliding into the longer strands of his hair, the feeling of his palm cupping your weeping core had a needy whimper spilling into his mouth as you arched eagerly. Huffing in amusement for a second time, John pulled back to drink in your facial expression as he worked his fingers through your folds, collecting your growing slick on his fingertips before seeking the source of your pleasure. Circling your sensitive bud, yet maddeningly denying direct contact, you rocked your lower lip back and forth beneath your teeth in time to his movements, brows knit up plaintively, tiny whimpers slipping through despite your best efforts to keep quiet.

When, at last, he slid his finger across your clit, your hips surged toward his hand with such need that he pressed his lips to your nose fondly. “Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Uh huh!” You breathed enthusiastically, with a firm nod, earning repeated strokes exactly where you wanted them, making your toes curl in your shoes.

“Remember how good I make you feel when I’m gone.” He murmured and you panted, punctuating your eager nods with several soft keens of delight.

“I will, god, I will miss you so much.” You whispered, voice growing alarmingly loud as he began to slide his middle finger into your wet heat.

“I know, I know.” John soothed, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he added his ring finger, beginning to work the long digits in and out of you in a way that had your eyelids fluttering shut. “Ah, eyes on me sweetheart.” He gently yet firmly gripped your jaw, angling your eyes to meet his as you quickly forced them open, and he smiled. “There’s my pretty girl.”

Abandoning his attentions on your clit, he began a demanding pace as he curled the ends of his fingers and worked them against a spongey spot deep inside you. Your jaw dropped open in a silent moan, hips fairly levitating from the counter as your fingers dug into his scalp. His thumb shifted from the side of your jaw to slide along your lower lip before coming to rest on your tongue. Reflexively, your lips wrapped around the digit, and you began to suck, shuddering at the way his nostrils flared in response, struggling mightily to keep your eyelids open and gaze meeting his.

Your eyes were growing glossy with need, his internal stimulation, while heavenly, just not quite enough to drive you over the edge to release. At last, John seemed to take pity, his thumb manipulating your clit in short, sharp circles that had your eyes rolling back into your skull no matter how hard you fought it as your orgasm pulled your entire body rigid before dropping you lax onto the countertop.

John pulled his thumb from your mouth with a faint ‘pop’ before leaning in to feather your face with tender kisses, gently pulling you up into his arms and rubbing your back as you rested against his chest. There was that alluring hardness in his trousers again, one that he had not let you act upon or explore to date, insisting that he only wanted to focus on pleasing you.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You did incredible.” He murmured once he finished licking his fingers clean.

“Mmmm…thank you, Johnny.” You murmured and turned your face to brush your lips across his jaw, resting against him until your body felt able to support itself once more, sitting up slowly.

“Really am going to miss you…” He muttered, brushing his knuckles across your cheek and you frowned, nodding in return.

“Not as much as I’m going to miss you. Oh! I got you a present it’s…in my coat.” Look down at the state of your dress and could only imagine the state of the rest of you. You really did want to give him the two tins of his favorite tobacco tied together with a ribbon though, particularly as there was an envelope slipped between them containing your photograph.

John smirked a little and stole a kiss. “I’ll fetch it for you, you wait here.”

You laughed ruefully and dug the ticket out of your dress pocket, sharing one last, lingering kiss before he stepped out into the green room. There were more voices out there, the rest of the band surely returned from the stage, and you slid onto slightly wobbly legs to lock the door behind him. Buttoning your dress back up, you turned to the mirror and gasped before frantically trying to sort out your hair and the lipstick smeared all around your lips.

Straightening your slip, you froze as you realized you had no idea where your underwear was. A glance around the miniscule space with just a toilet and the vanity revealed they were nowhere to be found. Perhaps John did not need another gift from you. It seemed he had already taken one.

-------------------------

Nerdy Post-Script: While everyone thought the 100th would be cleared for overseas duty at the end of their training in Sioux City they were still considered unfit. The group was split up over multiple bases across the US for further training before their disastrous training flight to California in April 1943. It wasn't until an additional twenty days of intense remedial training in May 1943 that they were finally declared fit for overseas duty.

Masters of the Air Masterlist

#john brady x reader #john brady imagine #john brady #john brady fic #mota fic #masters of the air fanfic

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Question? - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note : I always thought this one was unfinished so I never posted it but it's gotta be released from the drafts so here it is folks.

Word Count: 5800

Warnings: mentions of murder

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @falcvns )

x Enjoy! x

I remember

Therapists were no help to your situation, this much you were sure.

They tried, they really did. But there was no answer to your grief. Your family were good people and there was no doubt in you that that’s what got them killed. But you were supposed to meet the same fate as them, the only thing that went wrong was the fact that you managed to escape after watching the Winter Soldier slaughter them.

He had a moment of hesitation, one moment of pure eye contact as his hand inched for the knife that had been meant for you, and you had bolted.

And though the therapist tried to help you with the trauma, but there was no understanding. You watched your entire family get slaughtered, and then years later their killer would be renamed a fucking hero.

You were cursed with the memory of it all, scarred for life.

And the rest of the world was not.

It was your burden to bear.

Good girl, sad boy

Big city, wrong choices

We had one thing going on

I swear that it was something

'Cause I don't remember who I was before you

Painted all my nights

He spots you the day he moves in, carrying a simple duffle bag as he tries to hide in the back of the elevator. Sam had helped him move what little belongings he had earlier in the day, and tried his best to talk to him about what little things he had in the first place.

But Bucky didn’t listen, or tried not to. Truth was he was trying his best to add more to the collection, but it was hard. There was some stuff he couldn’t shake. And there was some stuff that Sam didn’t understand, the way people looked at him.

It was a 50/50 most of the time. Sometimes they smiled and were excited once they recognized him. Sometimes, like his last landlord, they freak out and get rid of him as fast as they can.

His last landlord broke his lease, as fast as he could, and Bucky struggled to find another apartment. Sam and Sarah helped him, and since the landlord was breaking the lease Bucky was able to get his rent and security deposit back. Not that it mattered since he was getting paid from the government anyways.

The elevator was beginning to fill up, an older lady with a dog on a tiny leash followed by a younger kid with his mom. He pushes himself further back into the corner, trying not to make eye contact with the mom not wanting to scare her. An older man limps in, says something flirty to the older woman before leaning against the wall. Some kid with a ragged beard wearing a colorful hoodie comes in, his eyes red and glazed, music blasting in his headphones as he nods to everyone before turning to the front. He smells of skunk as Sam would say and Bucky has to hold his breath to stop from inhaling it. His heightened senses forming a headache quickly.

But then there was you walking in.

Unlike the others he watches as your eyes mark everyone, then mark all exits and safety paths in sight before entering the elevator. He watches as you cross your arms, moving to press your floor before stopping and seeing it had already been pressed.

You must know everyone in the elevator already because when the doors start closing your head snaps to take one more look, and he watches as you spot him. He immediately casts his eyes down, keeping his hands in his pockets which makes it hard to watch your reaction. But he hears you inhale before turning back to the front.

He lifts his eyes then, only to see that you were watching him from the reflection of the doors. Clever.

There was something familiar, what was it about you that rung through his mind.

His heart speeding up as his eyes narrowed, through the distorted reflection he tries to recognize you. It’s right there, right there right there. If he could see your actual face then he can-

You whirl, eyes wide and your face flushed as if you just saw a ghost right as the doors open on the third floor. It wasn’t the right floor but within a flash you are running, sprinting from the elevator and dashing for the staircase.

He can do nothing but watch, while the others all turn to each other with odd expressions while Bucky blinks.

It’s clear then, it wasn’t Bucky that knew you. It was the Winter Soldier.

A color I've searched for since

But one thing after another

Lost in situations, circumstances

Miscommunications and I

Have to say

By the way

I just may like some explanations

It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be. It was just your imagination.

The view from the elevator was distorted, and you couldn’t actually see him but the second he narrowed those eyes, you saw him. Him that stormy night, the small step and the way his hand reached for his knife, the notch in his brow before you bolted.

You tore through the streets, hearing people yell as you bumped into them. Your breath was wasted and your body tight as you ran and ran and ran.

The only reason you stop is because a loud honking sounds out and a hand is snatching you back with a yell right before you get plowed by a red car driving faster than light.

“ARE YOU CRAZY LADY?!” Someone screeches, pulling your attention to the face yelling into yours. “You nearly got killed, stupid!”

“S-sorry.” You manage to mumble out, trying to figure out where you ran to. “Where am I?”

“Jesus christ, someone call 911!” He snaps, keeping a hand on your shoulder as people crowd around. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You couldn’t concentrate, you could barely see. The Winter Soldier was back, and he was coming for you.

You were in trouble.

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was

Making fun of you

But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Then what did you do?

“You’re being crazy.” Someone laughs, drawing Bucky’s attention from where he sat on the couch. It had been a week since he moved in and he was still on edge with the new surroundings, every sound drew his attention. The windows were still bordered up and he made sure no one could get in.

The tv, though it was on, was kept on silent so he could keep an ear out which is what he was doing right now when he heard it.

“I’m not being crazy.” Another voice, one thrilling enough to make his heart speed up, sounds out with a clipped tone. Defensive and hurt. “You didn’t have to walk me up, okay?”

“Oh come on. Please don’t be mad at me-”

“I’m not mad. I get it. I can’t sleep on your couch forever.” The clipped angelic voice sounds out once more. “I just….. I could have sworn that…. I’m fine.”

The sound of a door swinging open follows before both of the voices head inside and he finds himself heading closer to the door in an attempt to hear them. It’s not like he has to try hard with the super hearing, their voices catching quickly.

“I just think you need to keep going to therapy. I know you said-”

“I am still going to therapy, okay? The only reason I called you is because the hospital wouldn’t let me be released without someone.” The voice snaps back. “Can you just go? I already feel embarrassed. So just go.”

The door opens quickly after that and Bucky finds himself peering out the peephole of his door as you lean against the door watching the other person storm off as you stay there. Once your friend is out of sight he watches as your eyes trace over all the doors in the hall, calculating and nervous, before they land on his door and you watch for a moment.

He doesn’t know what pulls him to do it but he opens the door, pretending to be looking as if he heard a sound.

“You hear something?” He asks, still pretending to look. He hears you inhale sharply and finally he looks up to see your eyes on his arm, tears welling up as you freeze there. “I…. um.”

What could he say? What could he say to someone he had obviously wronged but doesn’t remember it? How could he make it better?

“I’m sorry.” Good way to start. “Whatever happened I am sorry. But it’s important to know that I…. I have been cleared of-”

That snaps you out of the daze as you push back into your apartment and slam the door quickly.

Shit.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight?

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch ...her?

It's just a question

A sound had woken you up from your dreams, pulling you from the deep sleep quickly and sending every bolt of fear through you. There had been a loud bang, and you pulled from the princess sheets your mom had gotten you for your birthday, the face of snow white staring back at you as you leaned across Belle’s face to look out the window.

A strike of lightning has you shrieking out, dashing from the bed in a your alien pajamas as you run across the hallway to your parents room, barging through the door to climb onto their bed and find your mother. They were normally in bed by now, but you were shocked to see that neither of them were there.

So you jumped up at another strike of lightning, crying softly before running down the hall to see if they were in the living room where your sister often watched her cartoons.

You didn’t think anything when you slipped in the red liquid by your brother's door, and you missed the red handprint swiped by the wall next to your sister's door.

When you spot your moms figure on the couch you let the sobs free as you run to her side and force yourself under her arm to cuddle her. She doesn’t hug back, and this pulls another sob as you look up to see a red slash across her neck, reaching a hand up in the dim lighting to see pull at the necklace.

Only there is no necklace and you soon realize it’s a cut across her neck, your hand coming back bloody and warm. A loud scream pulls from you as you stand up, looking around for you dad sti screaming your lungs out.

That’s when you see him, slashing across your fathers throat quickly before turning to you, his blue eyes narrowing in on you right as you move.

He takes one step forward, but then grunts as if in pain, like he was fighting himself as he stared at her. His hand reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh and like a bolt you dash out, the rain hitting you as you scream and run anywhere you can.

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

Did you realize, out of time

She was on your mind

With some meathead guy

That you saw that night

But you were on something

“Her family used to take in strays apparently, and had a safehouse filled with kids escaping Hydra. Dad was a scientist, and knew how to get all the kids out until Hydra caught them. Sent the Winter Soldier not long after.” Sam reads out as Bucky walks with him across the pads of the gym, keeping his eyes trained for the person they were here to look for.

“Figured that much.” He sighs out, remembering the way you looked at him. “What are the chances I end up across the hall from her?”

“Not high. Fate or something.” Sam sighs, closing the phone before he spots the figure. “What are you planning on doing?”

“I can’t lose another place to live, and I doubt she can either. If she’s scared there is a reason so I have to find a way to fix it. Which would be better if I knew what I did.” Before Sam could ask anything else they are upon their target, giving him hard eyes.

“Captain Black America.” The man grunts, a smug smirk playing at his lips as he lifts more weights. “How ya doing?”

“Cut the crap.” Bucky snaps, clenching his fists. “We have some questions.”

It was one drink after another

Caught in politics and gender-roles

And you're not sure and I don't know

Got swept away in the gray

I just may like to have a conversation

You didn’t know what to do, you were stuck.

Breaking the lease would screw you over, you couldn’t hide at your friends places forever and you couldn’t stay in your apartment forever. The Winter Soldier lived across the hall from you. The man that slaughtered your family lived across from you. The only correct solution you could come to? Getting black out drunk.

Somehow you ended up in your apartment building, blinking at the elevator buttons as you lean your head against the wall in an attempt to stabilize yourself.

“Now what are you doing out so late missy? Work keep you again?” The voice of Mrs. Day sounds out, a small touch on your shoulder as she and another figure enter the elevator. You couldn’t concentrate on either of them.

“I…. wenf ou…. The bwar… bwar… ber.. I went-tt to the b-” At some point you give up, eyebrows pinching together as you point to the buttons on the elevator. You miss your button, sliding down the wall.

A hand shoots out to catch you before you hit too hard, making sure you land softly before pressing the level you needed.

“Oh dear, back in my day girls never went to the bar.”

“Screw you Mrs. Day.” You blurt quickly before you realize what you said and your hand slaps over your mouth. A deep chuckle sounds out as you shake your head. “No. I didn’t say that.”

“She didn’t.” Someone mumbles. “It was someone else.”

“It was someone else.” You agree.

The elevator dings and the old woman scurries off as you close your eyes and lean against the wall. “I’m gonna sleep here.”

“You okay?”

“I’m gonna sleep here. This is where I sleep now.” You slur out, waving your hand around with your eyes still closed as the elevator closes again and you lay back down. You actually manage to haze out a bit before a ding sounds out again and someone puts their hands under your shoulders and lifts you easily.

“I live on the 5th- go to bed.”

“Okay. I gotcha.” The voice huffs out a laugh, carrying you easily before they get to a familiar door. “You gotta key?”

“Nooooo.” You giggle, opening your eyes a little wider. “It’s unlocked.”

“No, it isn’t. You sure you don’t have a key?”

“No key. Call me if you need let in and I’ll be there, okay?” You mumble, pulling out your phone and lifting it to your ear. “I’m on my way to unlock the-”

But before you can finish your sentence a wave of nausea hits you, you lurch forward quickly and hit your forehead on the door harshly, sliding down the wall and onto the floor below.

“Okay. Okay. Take it easy.” The deep voice hums out, and you are lifted once more before they walk across the hall and unlock their own door easily.

You are wrapped with the deep scent of a calming earthen scent, with a bit of a licorice scent that makes you giggle out. “Licorishhhhh.”

“I’m gonna set you down on the couch, okay?”

“I love licorice. Just so you know.” You continue before being set down, without question you curl up on the couch in a small ball.

“There is a glass of water by you and a trash can. But the bathroom is down the hall. Okay?”

“Is it raining?”

“Yeah, just started.”

“I don’t like when it rains.” You whisper out, a blanket put over you gently before you pass out fully.

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was

Making fun of you

But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Bucky was torn between hiding out in his room until he heard you wake up and run, but the other half of him wanted to keep camped out in the main window area to make sure you were okay. From the spot you had passed out on the couch it was the perfect vantage point for any sniper, even with the newspaper he had.

So, after hours of deliberation, he ended up on the floor by the windows, facing you as he slept on the floor. The surprise came when he himself passed out, on the floor by the windows.

He slept without a single nightmare, the image of your drunken smile keeping him sated.

He only wakes up when the sound of feet padding across the floor sounds out, sitting up quickly right as he hears your body crash onto the bathroom floor before you retch into the toilet. A grimace pulling at his face as he tries to zone it out before shuffling around and standing to trudge to the kitchen.

He starts a pot of coffee, grabbing a couple eggs from the fridge and shuffling to the stove. Making as much noise as he can when you come waddling out, your head twisting around the corner with wide eyes as he turns to attempt a smile.

Your face falls slack and you turn quickly.

“Wait! Wait. Just take a second.” He rushes, holding out both his hands as you dash to grab something to hold over your head. “Please don’t throw that.”

“I’ll scream! If you’re here to kill me I’ll scream!” You rush out, stepping back, tripping over the blanket that he had thrown over you last night and nearly falling back.

“I could have killed you last night and I didn-” He stops short as he realizes that is a terrible point to make. “Okay. Hold on, wait. Just- I can make you eggs and or coffee. Or both, you don’t have to choose. You can have both. Anything you want.”

“Why am I here?!”

“You.. you were drunk and didn’t have a key okay?”

“It’s under my door mat- WHY AM I TELLING YOU THAT?!” You blanch, stepping back again. “What is this thing? It’s weird.”

“It’s an old radio….. I stole it.”

“You stole it?”

“I stole it.”

“From where?”

“The….. my exhibit at the…. It was mine so technically I didn’t steal it and just took it back. It’s fair.” He can’t fight the heat filling his body as you take a look around, mouth falling open as you finally take everything in. “My sister gave it to me for my birthday the year before…”

“My sister got me a radio once.” You mumble. “Well it was this princess cd player thing that played the soundtracks of princess movies. I wore down the mulan cd so much that my dad pretended to sit on it and break it because he couldn’t handle hearing the skip in the songs anymore.”

“Was your sister here the other day?”

“What? No.” You huff and he feels his chest loosen up a little bit when you seem to relax. “My sister is gone. My whole family is…..”

And just like that he watches your eyes harden again, your spine tensing as you glare. “So I got drunk and you brought me here.”

“Yes.”

“And you slept in the same room?”

“That’s where I always sleep. It’s… the best spot to hide from snipers and it’s in the corner so no one can sneak up on me.” He answers. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t choke on your puke too. Do you want eggs?”

Then what did you do?

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

Did you wish you put up more of a fight

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch ...her?

It's just a question

If someone had told the seven year old you that you would be sitting across from the Winter Soldier on his dining room floor eating scrambled eggs and chugging straight coffee as you both played a round of 20 questions.

“I’m sorry, who drinks straight coffee? No sugar or milk or- this is bad.”

“You want to waste your question on that? You sure?” He asks, leaning to pour you more coffee.

“No! No. I…. why did you steal the radio back?”

“Because it was the last thing my sister gave me. And I just found out she died in a nursing home…. alone .” He shrugs, scratching at his forehead. “And…. it’s mine. They are displaying my stuff in a museum.”

“Must feel a little weird.” You nod. “They are actually displaying a gun you used in the smithsonian, the JFK shooting.”

“That’s not me. Well it is but….”

“Can I ask…. about…… “ You want to ask, so desperately, but you don’t want to piss him off. Not to mention that you hated when people asked you about your past.

“I don’t really want to…. “ He mumbles. “But I think that you must have questions and I do owe you answers.”

“Do you remember everything?”

“No. Not at all. Which might sound cowardly when I say I’m thankful for that. They kept me in their trance.” He answers, moving to give you more eggs before you shake your head. “I…uhm - well when I moved in and you recognized me I searched you up. The person who… for lack of better term the person who used me for the task, well I got them arrested when I got out. He was the 4th person on my list.”

“Have….” You go to ask another question about his years as the soldier before you see the look in his eyes, the nervous energy leeching off of him. So you switch, giving him a break. “You ever been to rome?”

“No. Have you?” He asks back, a look of relief on his face.

“No. But I always wanted to. There is this exhibit at the museum wh- shit. I gotta go.” You realize, moving to snatch your purse. “Oh my god I have work. I’m sorry for leaving a mess. Thank you for….”

You stop short, realizing you are thanking the man that killed your family, blinking slowly as a wave of guilt washes over you. What would they say? They would be so disappointed in you.

“I have to go.” He doesn’t say anything as you dash out.

Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that

Meteor strike?

And what's that, that I heard, that you're still with her

That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable

And right

But tonight..

The building you work in looked more like a morgue in Bucky’s humble opinion, but he tried to get that image out of his head as he walked through the front door.

He didn’t know why he was here, but for some reason he was drawn to you, and he just wanted to be near you. The game of questions you had played this morning had been…. Fun. He learned a lot about you. He now knows your favorite color, dream vacation destination spot, your weird dreams about the titanic.

“Good morning, do you have your badge?” The front desk asks, smiling at him.

“Oh… uh no. Sorry. I don’t work here.” He blushes, coming up to the desk. “My friend does.”

That was a blatant lie, he was sure you would not consider him a friend but he was gonna give it a shot. But a moment of fear passes through him that she might recognize the lie.

“No problem. Can I see you I.D. and the name of the person you’re here to see?” She hums out and he nods, pulling out his I.D. and muttering your name.

“Oh! You are here for her! She is the best. The only one that wishes me good morning and actually shows me her badge.” The girl gushes, moving to the phone and dialing an extension. “Hey this is Maya from the front desk. You have a visitor here… yes…. James Barnes?”

Her eyes widen for a second and she turns back to Bucky. “She doesn’t recognize the name-”

“Try Bucky Barnes.”

“Okay, Bucky Barnes.” She smiles through the phone and then nods before hanging up. “She will be down in one moment.”

“Great. Thanks.” He attempts an easy smile even though his stomach is in waves, trying to even out his jacket as he waits for you to come down. His chest clenched in a panic as he tries to calm himself down, taking a deep breath and keeping his metal hand in his pocket so the receptionist doesn’t see it from where she is still staring at him from her desk.

“How long have you worked here?” He asks after a moment, trying to release some of the awkward tension in the room.

“Three years. I was a temp for the first couple months but now I am full time.” She explains, fixing her hair nervously. “So are you two dating? Because, not to be weird or anything, you two would be so cute.”

“Oh, no we just live in the same-”

“And she is just so nice. And you seem nice too so-” Before she can keep going in you appear from the elevators with wide eyes, your badge swinging from side to side as you march towards him.

“Hi Maya.” You mumble out at the last second, shooting her a quick smile which makes the girl beam. Before she can say her reply you are turning back to him with those same wide eyes and snatching his elbow to lead him outside.

“Are you crazy? Do you know how many pr people are in this building and will send a bunch of paps after you.” You snap, blinking up at him as he tries to come up with a decent reason as to why he is here.

“I… okay well I figured you would need to leave for lunch so I came to get lunch with you.”

“If you forget about the fact that it involved a little bit of stalking then that would be nice.” You huff, shaking your head from side to side before shrugging. “I get to pick.”

“You know the area best.”

“I get to ask questions.”

“Sure. “ He answers, though he begins to get nervous, his mouth going dry. If you kept looking at him with those eyes he would answer anything, no matter what.

“Awesome, starting with the big questions.” You smile, leading him down the sidewalk as he clears his throat to try and remain cool. “How long does it take you to clean the arm?”

Relief washes through him as he follows your lead down the street, smiling a bit.

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was

Making fun of you

But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?

You had no clue what you were doing, guilt and shame coated your every move as you walked with Bucky through the market, watching a mix of people turn to glare or smile at him.

It was weird, weeks ago you would have been one to glare, hell you had glared at him through your tv hundreds of times. And here you were, walking beside him like you were the closest friends in the world as he searched for plums.

Your days were spent questioning each other, all light stuff when the sun was out. If you were born in any other century what would it be? Do you think you’re more of a sunshine or moonlight person?

Then when the sun goes down the questions turn deep. You learned about his memories as the Winter Soldier, you came clean about that night in your memories.

You were betraying your family, by falling for this man you were betraying your family. It was the one thing that had been bothering you for the past 3 weeks.

Like right now, when the biggest urge you were fighting was to grab his hand and hold onto it as you both moved to avoid bumping into people, your palm sweating as he sent a quick look your way to make sure you’re okay before moving to a stall that had plums.

“Are you okay today?” He asks, feeling around for the perfect plum as you pick up the jars of honey not too far off.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You lie, setting the jar down and moving towards him to avoid talking to the worker, your hand catching on his lower back before you snatch it back. “How many plums do you need?”

“I. Like. Plums.” He scoffs. “Would you rather be a bee or a flower?”

“Flower, 100 percent.”

“That was….. A really quick answer.” He smiles, paying the stall worker before, leading you both away. “I would want to be a bee.”

“You would be a bitch of a bee. You would not last a day as a bee.”

“I’m sorry?!”

“Not a day.” You laugh, throwing the bag you had been carrying around over your shoulder as he looks a little closer at you.

“You want to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

“You ever feel guilty… for like you family?” You blurt, eyes welling up. “Like you’re disappointing them?”

“Because you’re friends with me?” He asks, his voice tight.

“Are we friends?” You blurt, it’s not meant to come out that way, but it’s the first time you’ve heard him reference you both as friends. But the second his face falls you realize your mistake. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like- wait.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it.” He snaps out, keeping his eyes away from you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait. No. Okay just give me a chance to explain here.” You rush out, trying to stop him from walking away. “This has been a big adjustment, weeks ago I hated you. Okay? You killed my family so I’m sorry that this was-”

Someone bumps up into him from behind, and you have to take a step back to avoid hitting him, his eyes narrow at the movement as you blink at him. His lips curl as his head tilts, and he blinks.

“I… I remember you.” He whispers, hands clenching. “You were wearing alien pajamas.”

“You remember?”

“I…” And it was a remake of that night, you both staring at each other with his eyes narrowed and you getting ready to bolt. He looked green.

And then he bolts, dashing from you so quickly you barely have time to blink.

Then what did you do?

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

Did you wish you put up more of a fight?

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch ...her?

It's just a question

He couldn’t breathe, something was bursting in his chest and it was painful, so fucking painful.

He knew you, that hatred and fear in your eyes brought everything back. The night, when you were just a child and he had….. He had… He was going to pass out.

His door slammed into the wall so hard it left a dent in the plaster before he slammed it shut again and dashed to his room to snatch his duffel. He needed to go, he needed to leave. Find somewhere else to be, anywhere away from you.

He was a monster.

He hears the door swing open, your footsteps following and you come into view soon after, your eyes wide as he continues packing.

“Bucky. I’m sorry.” He breathes out, snatching a shirt before you come into view and snatching the shirt before it can hit the duffle bag. “Please, just give me a chance. Buck, I am sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry.” He grounds out, moving to grab something else. “I’m sorry.”

“Buck.” You try again, moving to grab his shoulders to stop him.

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Bucky, come on.” You snap, wrapping your arms around him to get him to stop. “Please don’t. Can we just talk about this. We can figure this out.”

“I…. I can’t.”

“20 questions. Let’s play 20 questions.” You rush out.

“No, let’s not. No more questions. We’re done here.”

“No we’re not.” You snap out, wrapping your legs around his like a koala so he would stop trying to run away. “Would you rather be a tie or a bra?”

“I’m sorry?” “A bear or a tiger?”

“That is terrible. A bra, and a bear.” He huffs, trying not to look at you.

“20 questions. You can’t leave now that we’ve started the game.” You mumble, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“That’s the dumbest thing I have ever hear-” He stops when you lean up to press your lips to his softly, your eyes closing as his entire body tenses for a moment before completely melting into it, his hands moving to thread through your hair.

You moan when he deepens the kiss and his heart just about stops before he tears away. “I never thought….”

“Neither did I.”

You play 20 questions every night, sitting together on your shared living room floor, with whatever show he wanted to catch up on playing in the background.

He plays with your hair from where your head lays on his chest, humming softly.

“Would you rather be a plum or a grape?” You whisper, fingers tracing a pattern on his pajama pants.

“Plum.” He answers quickly, tugging your ear which makes you gasp.

“I was so close to falling asleep.” You groan, slapping his hand away. “You are such a pain in my ass.”

“But you love me.”

“That I do.” You hum, moving to sit up. “Your question.”

“Would you….. Will you….” He clears his throat, sitting up straight as you give him a weird look. “Will you marry me?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #marvel smut #marvel imagine #marvel angst #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier smut #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier x reader

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harryforvogue · 4 months

Text

hello welcome back to me writing out some ideas that will never become actual full stories. this was super fun because i've never written the bodyguard trope. i won't be writing more for this, but isn't this so fun???? hope you like it! (if the French is wrong, that's on me) 2.5k idk

***

France, 1843.

The tavern will do for the night.

It’s inconspicuous, a perfect hiding spot. In fact, now that she’s been in her room for the past three hours, it’s safe to say that if anyone were to come looking for her, they’d be long gone by now. That’s why she changes into a fresh outfit (provided by the very nice hostess who got teary eyed by the story she made up.) She’s now in a simple dress, much better than the other outfit. After all, it would be weird to be traipsing around in a wedding dress.

Her family went all in for the dress too. She’s going to hold on to it, see how much money she can make from it.

She comes down the stairs quietly. At nearly sunset time, the bar is starting to get crowded. She can definitely get mixed into the wave of people, giving her more cover. She expected several people to come in around this time anyways. Despite it being 4 in the afternoon, the winter allows for the sun to retreat earlier. The visibility outside must be terrible, and with a snowstorm on top of that, the only people coming into the tavern will be loyal customers and those sheltering from the weather.

Of course, her family is too highly opinionated to stop at a measly little tavern like this.

She skips off the last step and looks around. She's picked an excellent spot.

When she sits at the bar, it takes only a minute for the bartender to catch her eye. “Une bière.”

He retreats to pour her drink, and then slides it across the wooden bar.

She catches it and smiles sweetly at him. Then relaxes into her seat and listens to the music.

What a disaster of a day. The whole town will be talking about it tomorrow: the runaway bride. Well, maybe not this town. No, this place is smaller, and less wealthy. They care little for the problems of the rich folk.

The minutes pass by in silence and peace. That is, until the bartender comes by with another drink that she definitely did not ask for.

“Ça vient du monsieur,” the man says.

She looks over to where he's gesturing.

Sitting at the end of the bar is a man she’s all too familiar with. His curls aren’t wet with snow, nor are his clothes, which suggest he’s been here for a long time. Has he been waiting for her out? Did he follow her the moment she left the chapel, or was it that his guess was just correct? Pure luck maybe. Regardless of the how, what matters is that he knows where she is, and he answers her scowl with a smile of his own, lifting his glass in the air as if to toast her attempts at escaping him.

“Merci,” she grits to the bartender. She turns back to her drink, trying to come up with a plausible story before Harry makes his way over. The thirty seconds it takes Harry to show up, though, is simply not enough.

He sits on the vacant seat beside her. He slides his mug over and lightly taps hers. “Fear not,” he says in English, grinning with his dimples on full display, “I’m here alone.”

Harry’s been her guard for several years. He’s young, barely 3 or 4 years older than her. He rarely speaks with her, but he’s always there when she goes out, even when she’s with her fiancé. He was posted with her years ago when her father gained some political opposition, out of fear she’d get in harm’s way. Thanks to Harry, that’s never happened.

Suffice to say, she’s less than happy to see him here.

Normally, he’s a nice face to look at. All handsome and diligent. He stands nearly half a foot taller than her, always dressed in nearly all black. He has women fainting over him. She, too, can admire his beauty.

But she’s not going to tell him that.

“As if an army of my father’s men would frighten me,” she replies back.

“Aren’t you glad to see me? Out of all the guards that could have been here searching for the runaway bride, aren’t you happy that it’s me and not another?”

“I’d be more happy to see my fiancé.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Is he still your fiancé?”

“I mean, I still have the ring on my finger.”

“Would have figured you’d pawned it off by now.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Are you going to force me to go back? Because let me tell you, I’m going to put up a fight. I will scream bloody murder if you touch me.”

Harry looks amused now. He rests his chin on his palm.

“That is quite a plan. It’s easy to see how you could be so creative about running away too. Let’s talk about it because I do feel the need to give you kudos, mademoiselle. Not only did you persuade your father to have a winter wedding, but you also picked out the most expensive fabrics and gems for your big day. You convince your fiancé that you love him and then leave him in the church where everyone is supposed to witness a holy union. You thoroughly humiliated him. Excellent scheming.”

He actually does seem impressed.

She doesn’t say anything.

“And to answer your question,” he continues. “I don’t plan on forcing you to go back. In fact, I was actually anticipating this.”

“Anticipating this, how?” She doesn’t want to be on the defense, but he’s acting strange. Too comfortable.

He rolls his head back and looks at her incredulously. “You may not see me at all times, but as your guard, I do keep my eyes on you. And it’s a wonder how other people didn’t notice. The way your smile dropped at the mere mention of him, the way you had to leave the room with a pitiful excuse every time he showed up. The way you refused to let him kiss you after he very kindly walked you home all the time. Almost difficult to watch.”

She feels her face burn. “You’re not supposed to spy on me.”

“That is my job. I get paid for it, so I might as well be thorough, no?” He’s smiling again.

“All those things mean nothing. It was a last minute decision to run away.” She tilts her head back and finishes her ale.

“Ah, that I know. It was the most surprising part when you didn’t show up. I knew you would pull something like this, make an excuse of some kind. I anticipated that – but I didn’t anticipate it happening on your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t going to wait for an annulment. Don’t know if that would even be possible. And who'd want to marry me after that anyways. Running away was my best option.”

“He’s absolutely distraught, by the way. He’d be very unhappy if he knew we were talking like this. We’ve become friends of some sort.”

“Why would he be upset about us speaking?”

The incredulous look comes back. “It pains me that you don’t know how jealous your little fiancé is. You have such little awareness.”

“Jealous?” She suddenly laughs. “Oh please. As if he has anything to be jealous about.”

Harry finishes his drink and then orders another round for them. As he does, she takes him in. He’s in his black vest, white long sleeved shirt, with an undone white cravat, his jacket tucked away somewhere in the bar. He taps his perfectly polished boots against the floor, pristine black trousers fitting nicely around his strong thighs. His trousers are always perfectly fitted, unlike the rest of her guards. Or maybe she’s just spent a lot of time looking at him.

“He has plenty to be jealous about, mademoiselle.”

“All my attention has been on wedding planning and such for weeks now. I haven’t had the chance to even talk to another man.”

He glances back at her when she’s looking down at his thighs. He’s silent for a moment, but then says quietly, “Not all jealousy has to come from interacting with a man. It could just be from the way you look at one.”

Her eyes jump back to his face. His eyes are narrowed as if trying to figure her out. “He has nothing to be jealous about,” she repeats.

“He doesn’t?”

“As horrible of a woman I am for leaving a man at his own wedding, I’m not the type of woman to betray him, even though I don’t feel any particular affection for him. I respect him and myself.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with respect, mademoiselle. It’s about desire. After all, you should desire the man you’re marrying, is that not true?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’ve run away.”

“And if you were to desire someone else, it wouldn’t be betrayal, given you’re no longer his intended.”

He says it so casually, but she sees the way his eyes slip down to her mouth for a brief second.

“I still have the ring.”

He glances at her hand. “Will you keep it?”

“Not planning on it.”

“And until then, you’ll stay faithful to a man you have no intention of marrying? Forgive me, I can’t seem to make sense of this logic.”

She thinks about how much she should tell him. He’s had it figured out, it seems. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her true feelings about the union. Or maybe Harry’s just watched her too closely.

She says, “Are you really not going to take me back?”

Harry shakes his head. “What good would that do?”

“My father would appreciate it.”

“Your father has overlooked many things that I think have been worth appreciating over the span of my career as your dutiful guard, mademoiselle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Harry doesn’t say anything. He simply watches her, as if she’ll understand him just from his expression. She doesn’t.

“Tell me,” she demands.

“I’ve done things that deserve recognition, that is all.”

“Like what?”

He narrows his eyes. “Like keeping you alive for the past four years, you ungrateful wench. With all the stupid decisions you make on a daily basis, I should actually be getting a fucking medal for managing to keep all your limbs in tact.”

The way he says it is so sudden and harsh, she can’t help but laugh.

“Funny, is it?” he grumbles.

“Hilarious. So, what type of recognition would you even have liked for keeping me alive?”

“It doesn't matter now, I think. Surely I’ll lose my job for not getting to you in time and bringing you back.”

She sits up straighter. “If I were to be brought back, what do you think you’d deserve for it?”

He sighs. “I shouldn't say.”

“I want to know.”

“You’ll hate me.”

She smiles real wide. “So what?"

He contemplates it for a moment. Finishes his second drink and then drums his fingers on the bar top. His knee gently brushes against her skirts beneath the table. “Did you know that before your father picked him to marry you, he had one of the other guards draft a list of eligible men?”

Her expression sours. “There was a list? How disappointing.”

“Mhm. It wasn’t a very long one.”

“What does this have to do with my question?”

He looks at her, unblinking. “If I were to bring you back to your father, and you still had to marry, I would like to be considered on that list.”

Everything falls away. Her smile drops, and her heart beats hard in her ears. Harry doesn’t look away from her, watching every expression take over her face. Surprise, worry, and then…

“Oh.”

The corner of his mouth twists. “Right. And a part of me wishes I’d throw you over my shoulder and drag you back to him. Just to be considered, even for a mere moment. Long enough for there to be a mental image of you and I at the altar in your father’s head. I’d be pleased with even a mere thought if it’s the only time we'd ever be together. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“No.” Though the thought of being draped over that shoulder is more than enough to get her knee bouncing under the table. Her leg jostles his.

“And of course,” he says, smiling tightly, “you are loyal to your man because of that ring.”

They both look down at the gem. It gleams in the light.

Harry’s eyes dart back up to hers. He watches her for several long seconds before he reaches out.

With slow movements, he takes her hand. “Unless…” he murmurs, resting her hand on top of his knee. He gently twists the ring off her finger and drops it into his pocket. She keeps her hand on his leg.

Could he be trying to get her to make a move? She’ll be truly guilty if she advances first, but he doesn’t seem to be pulling away either. She holds her breath.

What she ends up saying is, “You said that as my guard, you’ve always needed to keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes.” His gaze is heavy. Dark.

“Even when I didn’t need you to?”

“I always looked out for you. I always will. It’s become second nature to me.”

That makes her feel a certain way. A way she’s never felt in her life. Her breath catches.

"You do deserve something for that," she says softly. She carefully squeezes his leg, right above his knee.

His jaw visibly tenses.

Harry leans in, and this is when she realizes he’s moving first. He takes a hold of her chin and tilts it up, eyebrows drawn together as if he’s really trying his best to stay away but can’t. He brings his head down. He whispers her name and her body caves, leaning into him.

For the first time in her life, she's excited about kissing a man. Her impatience suddenly surpasses the limit. She puts her other hand on his knee and pushes herself upwards to meet his kiss.

Just before his mouth touches hers, the bartender returns with a gruff, “Il est tout à fait inapproprié de le faire ici. Allez dans votre chambre.”

Harry pulls away, just barely, and looks down at her through his eyelashes. He keeps a hold on her face. “Shall we?” he asks her, ignoring the bartender.

She swallows roughly. His eyes are drenched with desire, her heart pounding away in her chest. She licks her lips, enjoying the way he follows the movement.

He whispers, “I’ll be nice, darling.”

Excitement spreads through her like wildfire. She balls her hands into fists and takes a deep breath. “Come.”

He smiles then, and it takes her aback. As he stands, he genuinely looks pleased. Relieved even. As if he’s been waiting for this chance. He takes her hand and tells her to lead him to her room.

And when he presses her against her door, hands tangled in her hair, a searing kiss placed onto her mouth, she realizes this is what it’s supposed to feel like.

#we've been talking so much about marriage of course i had to write about a runaway bride #the guard au is fun #dunno why i've always stayed away from it #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing

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