#feel free to ask about it while I’m polishing it up! I always love talking fic/ WIPs

[sparklee-gem]

So I’ve had a fic in progress for about *checks watch* almost a year and a half, and I finally got to a point where I got chapter one almost polished, and feel confident enough to post it. I’ve had fun writing it, but I’m usually only writing within one shots, so this will be my first multi chapter fic and that’s exciting but also nerve wracking lol

Figured I’d give a preview of the last writing session I had, and some older art for an idea of the neon sign Atem spots Yugi under one night.

Hopefully this will be out soon! I’ll be keeping y’all updated, and thanks for the love on my recent art 💖

[breadbrobin]

campfire games

luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians

[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]

summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.

warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.

word count: 1.6k

(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)

(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)

(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)

——————————————————

there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.

campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.

clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”

“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.

“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”

you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”

she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”

with that, she left you sitting alone.

well, not really alone.

luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.

you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.

“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”

“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”

“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”

“always.” he said seriously.

you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.

luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.

“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.

you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”

he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.

you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”

you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.

andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”

“i am.”

“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”

“no, i think i’m okay.”

“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”

you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”

“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”

“i only play games with people i like.”

“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”

you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”

‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.

andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”

“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.

his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.

his hand was on your thigh.

gross.

you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.

“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.

“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.

he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.

he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”

you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”

he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”

“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”

he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”

you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.

he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.

“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“

you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.

“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”

he nodded, still hunched over.

“good boy,” you grit out.

“fucking bitch,” he grunted.

your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”

“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.

you laughed. “hey, luke?”

“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.

“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”

you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.

your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.

“what?” he asked quietly.

“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.

he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”

“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”

“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”

“good, because if you had stepped in—“

“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.

“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”

“ah, my bad.”

as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.

[alien-magnolia]

Surprise!

dom!Billy Loomis x subby!fem!reader 

My first Billy fic :) tw; this is more dark, don’t like, don’t read. If you like this post, pls help a writer out and reblog✨

Tw: degrading kink, praise kink, daddy kink, knife play, blood play, d/s dynamics, cnc, choking, impact play,  bondage, corruption kink, unprotected sex, dom!billy loomis/ghostface, innocent fem sub!reader

Fic description: Billy was always this really mysterious guy you knew. One night, he wanted to play, and you were his victim of choice. You didn’t expect that you’d be into it

It was a Friday night, and you were comfy on your white couch, laying down on your tummy with nothing but your little pink nightgown on. The rain was thundering upon the roof, a gloomy October night. You were eating some popcorn and watching a horror movie. You liked those, and sometimes you’d imagine those big scary slasher killers coming after you, having their way with you. Using you. Little did you know, that was about to happen. 

You hear the phone ring. You quickly jump up and tiptoe your way to the receiver, careful not to mess up the pretty pink nail polish you just put on your toes. You grab the receiver.

“Hello?,” you timidly draw out onto the phone. “Hi, sweetie,” a low voice answers back. It was Billy. You always felt so tingly and subby around him, and sometimes he’d give you rides home. He was a good guy, you thought. “Hi Billy!,” you shout, excited but confused to see him calling. “What are you up to, sweetie? Wearing anything nice?” You blush at the question. Sometimes you’d see his eyes shamelessly rake over you. You gulped, you might as well indulge. You did have a little bit of a crush on him, but sometimes your gut feeling would tell you that he seemed dangerous.

“Just my pink nightgown. Gee, Billy. It’s suddenly really cold here,” you say as you shiver, your manicured fingers dwindling with the phone cord. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have left that window open, sweetie. Who knows what could happen…” you hear his voice, although it isn’t on the phone anymore. It is behind you. The phone drops from your hand as you feel a pair of strong arms grab you from behind, one hand on your neck, the other firmly splayed out over your hips. 

You take a look in the mirror. Billy is standing behind you. He’s got some blood on his face, and in one of his hands, a knife. He’s standing there smiling at you. “Surprise.” He lets out a low chuckle, a predatory grin over his face. “Weren’t expecting me tonight, were you sweetheart?,” he asks, his lips trailing over the tips of your ear, you feel his hot breath on your face. You feel the metallic blade of his knife trail over your thighs. 

“N-no, Billy. What are you doing? Will you let me go?,” you timidly ask him. He might hurt you with that knife, but you were just incredibly turned on. “I don’t think so, sweetie,” he replies, and then flips you around, so you’re facing him. He quickly grabs two of your wrists, and ties them together, firmly in place with some duct tape. He strokes your hair a bit, trailing down your neck with a few light kisses. 

You were almost moaning at this point. 

“Billy…what are you doing?? Let me go,” you plead, on one hand, you wanted to be free, but on the other hand, this just made you melt. “Here’s what’s going to happen, bunny. I came here tonight, just for you…”, he coos at you, his deep brown eyes gazing into yours. He’s got you caged against the wall now with his bulging biceps. You couldn’t escape, even if you wanted to! And he was just so strong!!! He continues. “I’m going to play with you. Just a few things. Wanted you so, so, bad, princess. And now —- I’m going to get what I want. Gonna see how much of a little slut you are, underneath that innocent little act you pull. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. You understand?,” he asks, while he runs a blade over your cheek.

God— you loved how he talked to you. How he talked down to you. You felt so subby already. You nod, looking up at him, eyes wide. You nod. “Good job, such an obedient girl for me. You’re gonna call me daddy, from now on, okay sweetie?” You nod again. “Yes, daddy.” With that, he puts some duct tape over your mouth, and grabs you by your taped wrists. He leads you up the stairs with his strong hands, you feel the knife and his hard on behind you. 

He takes you to your bedroom. “All pink, white frilly sheets, even some teddy bears on your bed I see…,” he lets out a low chuckle. “Such a pretty little thing you are for me, princess. Too bad that I’m about to corrupt that dumb little head of yours,” he coos at you, turning you around to trail your face with kisses. You felt so squirmy already, so wet for him. He drove you insane! You were so scared of him…but he turned you on so much that you just submitted to him, so naturally.

You start to let out a few little moans, muffled by the duct tape, of course. Suddenly, he rips it off you, and slams you against a wall. You see the blood on his face, and he pushes his lips into yours, so big, so rough! You loved it! “Sir…please…can’t…can’t take it…,” you plead with him, but you really didn’t know what you were pleading for. Maybe for him to fuck you. “What’s the matter? Too much for my bunny already?,” he chuckles, and comes in close. He has that insane look on his face, this predatory smile, you felt so powerless. “I’m just getting started, honey,” he patronizes you. “Too stupid to understand, I guess…” he sighs to himself, and then brings one of his hands up to your throat. He leads you to the bed by your throat, and then pushes you onto it, face down. You feel him adjust your taped hands behind you, and his calloused hands grope at your tits eagerly. “Gonna show you how I play, sweetie…you’re just gonna be a good slut, and lay there for me and take it, okay?” You were confused on what he meant, till you felt your nightgown being hiked up. “No panties even? You are a slut, huh? So good for me,” he moans out, and you start to feel his hand come down to spank you a few times. It was painful, and it burned, but you loved it. He turned you around, his shirt was off, he was naked right in front of you. His cock was already out, you were just aching to put it in your mouth. 

He pulls you up, shoving his cock closer to your face. “Open for me.” You do as said, it was just heaven to feel his throbbing cock inside your mouth, you looked up at him as you suckled on his tip, and he stroked your hair just a bit. He still had that knife, and then traced the blade over your face, not cutting you, but you just felt it. He pulls out of you. “Good girl, you got it wet for me. Now you’re gonna take my cock, gonna stretch that tight little cunt out, nice and wide.” He pushes you down onto the bed again, you feel his big chest over yours, you feel him pushing into you. You felt scared before, but now you just felt nothing but need. “Want it in, want it to fill me, daddy please, need to be full so bad,” you begging him again. “Can’t resist that little smile you got, princess. Gotta be patient, daddy's going to give you as he sees fit,”  he patronizes you. 

You feel him slam into you, his tip reaching your gummy walls, filling you up so sweetly that you just couldn’t even breathe. You felt him choke you lightly, and then start rocking you slowly but roughly on his thick length. “Please, wanna cum…please…” you feel his breath on your neck, he leaned in close, his lips trailing over your cheek. “Then come, sweet girl. Give me a big squeeze…there you go,” he coos at you. You felt so subby, so stupid, but you loved it when you were with him. You feel him spill into you, you loved how warm it felt :) 

“Did good for me, sweetie. Should be grateful that I came to play with you, little thing.” He pulls out, unties you and leaves through the same window he came in from. 

[metallicames]

I needed to vent my dirty thoughts about late 80's James(AJFA) so I wrote this.

Thanks as always for your help @nausicaamusiclover20 ❣️

Nothing Else Matters

Description: you and James are best friends and practically inseparable but something changes when one day he invites you into the band's studio to listen to some new tracks.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, sex, oral sex, dirty talking.

It’s a warm mid-May afternoon when I step off the plane at LAX. The New York shoot had been nonstop—flashbulbs, stylists, chaos—but the familiar California air feels like a balm on my skin. As I wheel my bag through the arrivals terminal, I spot him immediately. James is leaning against his black Mustang, arms crossed, his aviators glinting in the sun. Lars is there too, animated as always, gesturing wildly while James listens with an amused smirk. The sight of them makes something in my chest loosen, something that’s been knotted tight for weeks.

I drop my bag and rush toward them, my smile widening. Lars is first, scooping me into a quick, playful hug, his energy infectious as always. Then I turn to James. His arms open, and the second he pulls me in, I feel it—the weight of the past month without him falls away.

“You’ve been missed, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice soft but steady, his breath warm against my hair.

“So have you,” I reply, my voice quieter than I mean it to be. It’s the truth. James isn’t just my best friend he's also my family since I don't have one.

The Mustang roars to life as James merges onto the freeway, the sound of the engine almost drowning out Lars’ running commentary from the backseat. Almost. The stereo is turned all the way up, blasting rock and metal that James drums along to on the steering wheel. When Harvester of Sorrow comes on, it’s over for all of us. Lars grabs an invisible pair of drumsticks, attacking the back of my seat in time with the beat. I throw myself into the vocals, headbanging until my hair flies into my face, laughing through the lyrics.

James glances at me, his grin widening as he belts out the chorus, his voice gravelly and loud. His energy is magnetic, the kind of presence that pulls you in until you forget everything else. I’m laughing so hard my stomach aches, and for the first time in weeks, the world feels… light. Free.

This is what life is supposed to be, I think. Loud, messy, and completely perfect.

As the city melts away behind us, the horizon stretches out in golden waves, sunlight streaking across the dashboard. I lean my arm out the open window, fingers slicing through the warm breeze, and let myself relax into the rhythm of the road. James glances over, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but curious, “how was New York?”

I launch into stories about the shoot—grueling hours, impossible expectations, the occasional flashes of brilliance that made it worth it. He listens the way he always does, his attention steady, his face lit with interest. When I finally stop to take a breath, he nods, his expression softening.

“I’m proud of you,” he says simply.

The words hit harder than I expect, leaving a warm ache in my chest. Before I can respond, we pull up to Lars’ place. I hug Lars goodbye, watching him disappear, and then James turns to me.

“Feel like coming to the studio?” he asks, one hand draped casually over the wheel. “The others aren’t around, but I’ve got some stuff I’d love for you to hear.”

I hesitate for a moment, the exhaustion from the flight catching up with me. But the way he looks at me—hopeful, expectant—makes it impossible to say no.

“Let’s do it,” I say, and the way his grin widens makes me glad I did.

The studio smells like it always does: wood polish, leather, and the faint tang of old metal strings. It’s familiar, grounding, like stepping into a place that’s half museum, half home. Instruments are scattered everywhere—guitars leaning against amps, Lars’ drumsticks on the floor, a pair of headphones abandoned on the mixer table. I trail my fingers along the edge of the console as James hands me a cold beer.

“Hungry?” he asks, holding up a takeout bag.

“Starving,” I admit, cracking open the bottle and taking a sip. He grins and sets out the food, motioning for me to sit.

“Listen to this and relax,” he says, pressing play on the mixer. “It’s new. Just an idea we’ve been messing with.”

The track that fills the room is raw and heavy, a mix of blistering riffs and experimental rhythm changes. I kick off my shoes, curling up on the couch, and let myself get lost in the sound. My fingers drum against my knees, my feet tapping out the beat. For a moment, I close my eyes, letting the music wrap around me like a warm blanket. When I open them again, James is standing a few feet away, watching me with a curious intensity.

“I love seeing you like this,” he says, his voice low but clear. “You’re always honest with us. You’ve got great taste.”

I laugh, brushing off the compliment, but something about the way he says it sticks with me. We sit side by side on the couch, devouring our burgers and swapping stories until James suddenly gets up and grabs an acoustic guitar.

The melody he plays next is soft, haunting, and completely unexpected.

“What’s this?” I ask, my voice hushed.

He doesn’t look up, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings. “Just something I’ve been playing around with,” he says. “You’re the first to hear it.”

I don’t respond. I’m too busy watching him—his focus, the way his body moves with the music, the sunlight catching in his messy blond hair. James has always been good-looking, but right now, he’s something else. His tanned skin glows in the fading light, and there’s a calmness to him that takes my breath away.

It’s dangerous, the way my thoughts start to drift. I quickly look away, forcing myself to focus on the music.

When he finishes, I clap, my cheeks warm and my chest tight. “That was incredible,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Seriously, Jamie. It gave me chills.” He sets the guitar aside, his gaze softening. “Come here,” he says, opening his arms.

I hesitate for a second before leaning into him, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. His chin rests on the top of my head, the warmth of his chest against my back reassures me like a blanket.

“Are you tired?” he murmurs, his hands moving to my shoulders. His thumbs begin to knead the tension there, slow and deliberate.

“A little,” I admit “But this is nice.”

Minutes pass like this, his hands drifting lower, skimming along my sides and back up again. His breath brushes against my ear, warm and steady, and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me. My heart races, a mix of confusion and something I can’t quite name.

James’s lips trail gently along the curve of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. His hands move with deliberate care, resting against me, their strength both grounding and exhilarating. My heartbeat races, the rhythm wild and unsteady as I try to catch my breath, The idea that James had these intentions had never crossed my mind and right now I feel overwhelmed.

“James… we shouldn’t…” The words slip from me in a breathy whisper, barely audible over the pounding in my chest.

“Why not?” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, a subtle edge of desire beneath his usual calm. “Just… relax. Enjoy the moment.”

His lips find the hollow of my collarbone, pressing there with soft insistence, and I shiver. Slowly, I turn to face him. His eyes meet mine, and there’s something different in them—a quiet intensity that takes my breath away. Before I can overthink it, I lean in, closing the distance.

The kiss starts slow, almost hesitant, but the moment his lips part against mine, it’s as if every inhibitory brake has fades. The taste of him is familiar and yet intoxicating, a heady mix of his cologne and the faint bitterness of beer. Our movements sync instinctively, like this was always meant to happen, as if some unspoken rhythm has finally been realized.

His hand then lower on my womb and lit my mini skirt and insticively I spread my legs letting his hand touching me. His fingertips caress the soft fabric of my panties and he lets out a low growl. I stop kissing him, resting my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes desperate of wanting more. I felt James’ other hand slips under the sweatshirt snd then touching my naked breast. He starts touching my nipple in a circular way that made me gasp. He let out another moan, closer to my ear this time louder, which makes my weak knowing that he craves more. I know that this isn’t right, he is my best friend, but his touch is like a drug and I want more. As he said, I let myself enjoy the moment. With a determined movement I lower my panties, kicking them with my feet. James takes his hand closer to his mouth and spit on it and he reaches my clit, starting rubbing it wiht his movements that made me lose my mind. “Fuck, he’s so damn good” I think as he continues to stimulate me. I let out a soft moan, I open my eyes and the scene hit me: the sun outside is setting leaving the sky with beautiful colors making the studio magical. The blurred light create a sensual atmoshpere while James' muscular arms envelop my excited body.

“Show me what you like…” James whispers, his voice low and laced with a quiet urgency. His lips brush against my ear before he catches the lobe gently between his teeth, sending a shiver down my spine. His hand rests against my breast, warm and steady, until I guide it to my groin, my fingers trembling slightly as I lead him in my entrance, where I need him most while the other hand is taking care of my clit. The delicate movements he enters make me gasp, my body arches into him, my back pressing against his firm chest as his rhythm finds something instinctual, something perfect.

I can feel his erection against my lower back. I also feel the tension in him too, is evident in the way he moves, the way his breath grows heavier with every reaction he draws from me. His fingers’ movements start being faster and I couldn’t help but moan and sigh.

“James…” I gasp, his name spilling from my lips unbidden, a desperate prayer in the heat of the moment.

“Let me take care of you” he murmurs, his voice low and velvet-smooth, sending another wave of heat coursing through me.

His hands are everywhere I want them to be, skilled and unrelenting, drawing sensations so intense that I can hardly keep up. The way his fingers enter and exit from my entrance make me feel dizzy. My head tilts back against his shoulder, and I close my eyes, losing myself in the moment, in him. Every nerve feels alive, every touch igniting something deeper.

I know I'm going to cum. I feel a rush building inside me, a warm wave starting deep within, growing stronger with every passing second. I hold onto James' ankle tightly, the connection between us feeling more intense with each movement. My breath becomes shallow, harder to control, and I can’t help but let out soft sounds as my body responds instinctively, moving in sync with him. Every touch, every gesture seems to amplify the moment, making my hips move a little in time with his fingers. He’s damns fucking me with his fingers and he fuck knows how to do it.

"Come for me, Y/n, let me feel how much you enjoy this..." His voice, thick with desire, is the spark that sends a wave of intense pleasure coursing through me. I cum in his hands followed by a strong orgasm. A rush of sensations floods over me, overwhelming and almost indescribable, as I give in to the moment. 

"Fuck..." I gasp, my voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. I can feel the satisfaction in his smile against my skin as he continues to touch me, his movements slowing down. I instinctively close my  legs, holding onto his wrist, and he pauses for a moment, gently slapping my clit.

He pulls his hands away, and I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. His gaze lingers on me as he brings his fingers to his lips, savoring the cum with a satisfied hum.

I'm breathless, overwhelmed by the sensations, feeling a deep sense of peace wash over me, still caught in the aftermath of what we just shared. I'm trying to make my breath regular but then James comes closer to my ear. “Now, I need to lick it” With his husky voice that makes my heart skip a beat. 

I don't know how to react. The orgasm I had earlier was the best I ever had. It left me breathless, and the thought of him taking me to that peak again sends a shiver through my spine, both startling and thrilling me.

I shift, allowing him to move in front of me, not saying a word but watching his every movement, completely captivated by his presence, his scent, the way he moves with such confidence.

He gently pulls at my skirt, his voice low as he commands, "Take it off... I want to see your body." His gaze, filled with intent and admiration, sends a rush of excitement through me. I pull off my sweatshirt, and the skirt locking eyes with him as he kneels on the couch, fully dressed, and I can feel the intensity of his attention on me.

I bite my lip instinctively, heart racing as he watches me. While I lay back on the pillow behind me, he gently spreads my legs, and his gaze falls on me, lowering on my pussy, slow and deliberate, as if he’s memorizing every detail of me.

"I think I just fell in love," he says, his gaze never leaving my cunt. He moves closer, his hands gently gripping my buttocks, parting them just enough to bring his head between my legs. I grip the pillow behind me with one hand, the fingers of the other one running through his hair, as he starts to lick my clit, each lick sending waves of pleasure through me.

His eyes meet mine occasionally, filled with desire, and I couldn’t help but move my hips toward him, drawn to him, making him licking deeper, lost in the sensation. I felt completely overwhelmed, consumed by the moment, as he continues, never slowing down, his focus unwavering. "You taste amazing… You’re perfect" he murmurs, his voice thick with passion. And I couldn’t deny it—every part of me craves him, every second more intense than the last. I find myself wanting more, needing to feel him even closer, my heart racing as I whisper, "I need you, James... now." He pulls back slightly, giving me a teasing smile as he raises an eyebrow. With surprising speed, he removes his pants the subtle line of his tan and the hint of blonde hair just below his stomach catch my attention, causing me to let out a soft sigh.

When he removes his boxers I couldn’t  help but stare, I was surprised, I had never seen such a big cock. He looks at me with a smirk. Then he comes closer to me, kissing me with such passion and pressing his dick’s tip toward my entrace. I'm wet and excited, but I'm tight, so fucking tight for his dick. I take off his t-shirt and rest my hand on his ass guiding him to my entrace. He opens his mouth letting out a little sight as he penetrates me, stopping halfway. “Fuck, you’re so tight” he says, his breath quick and uneven. I try to relax, feeling the warmth of the moment and knowing that soon it will transform into pure pleasure. I gently touch his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of his body. His gaze meets mine, eyes wide, and I could tell he's losing control.

He moves slowly, making sure I adjust to him, and I gasp, my eyes fluttering shut from the growing sensation.

"James, it’s too big.. my god," I whisper.

"Take your time," he says softly, leaning down to kiss my forehead gently.

He moves with a natural sensuality, gradually increasing the pace, his breaths becoming deeper and blending with mine. The sensations intensified, overwhelming me in the best way, as I felt chills running through my body, drawing me closer to him. It’s as if the connection between us both is growing stronger with every moment.

At one point, he shifts, adjusting my position gently, but without losing his rhythm. He places my leg over his shoulder, his touch tender yet firm as he continues, while his lips travel down to kiss and caress my foot. I marvel at how he seems to know exactly what I need, responding to every shift and movement, almost as if he can read my thoughts.

In this new position, everything feels deeper. His thrusts became stronger, more powerful, and the pace quickens, building the tension between us both. Every touch, every breath, seems perfectly timed.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, sensing my moans growing louder with every passing moment.

“Fucking not, please continue… don’t stop” I cry out, my voice trembling with anticipation, as I feel the intensity build even more. 

The situation starts to spiral, and he moves deeper, relentlessly, his thrusts becoming more powerful. His hand rests on my lower abdomen, intensifying the sensation with every thrust.

“Shit, I’m… I’m about to...” he breathes out, his voice strained. My vision blurs as I press my hands to my face, unable to control the gasps escaping me. Eventually, I feel a rush of sensation, waves of heat spreading through me. And I feel my hot cum coming out little by little. 

“Jesus Christ!” I exclaim, trembling. Shortly after, he thrusts deeper, his grip tightening as he slows, his body shuddering with a low, almost animalistic groan.

We both look at each other, still processing the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

“What just happened?” he asks, laughing in disbelief, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his hand.

He slowly pulls away from me, and we both let out a soft gasp. He lies down beside me, his head resting gently in my hair. We stay there in silence, our breathing slowly returning to normal.

I feel a deep sense of well-being, completely content and at peace in the moment. I don’t want anything more right now—I’m fully satisfied and happy. Before I even realize it, I fall asleep.

I wake up after a while, feeling a blanket draped over me, but underneath, I’m still naked. My body feels warm, and I blink a few times, trying to focus. I glance ahead and see James sitting with his back to me on a stool, the guitar resting on his lap, he’s focused, writing something in a notebook. The room is dark, and I can't quite tell how long I've been asleep.

“How long did I sleep?” I ask, my voice hoarse and still thick with sleep. He turns to look at me, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, welcome back,” he says, his voice warm and easy. “I think about an hour.”

I slowly sit up, the blanket still wrapped around me. It’s not cold, but I feel exposed without clothes, even though James has already seen everything of my body.

I get up and walk over to him. "How long are you planning to stay here working?" I ask, curious but not in a rush.

He grins, his goofy, wide smile taking over his face: “I could stay and sleep here, you know I’m like a homeless guy” he says, leaning back on the stool. It’s the same old James—the carefree, easygoing guy I know so well. I had feared that things would be different after everything that happened, but here he is, still the same funny, spontaneous guy I’ve always known.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asks, his eyes still focused on the notebook.

“Mmm, no, if I’m not bothering you, I’ll stay here. I’ve got my suitcase. Maybe I’ll freshen up,” I say, not feeling like leaving just yet. James and I are both free spirits—neither of us has roots. Sometimes it’s painful, but it also connects us in a way. We don’t owe anyone anything, and we’re each other’s family in this unpredictable world.

He smiles, his eyes lighting up with a playful gleam. I want to kiss him, but I hesitate, unsure if it's the right moment. Still, seeing him smile like that makes my chest feel lighter.

"You can take a shower if you want… if you’re not grossed out by the pubic hair and are brave enough" he says, with that usual nonchalant tone of his.

I laugh softly, shaking my head, rolling my eyes at his cheekiness. I walk past him toward my suitcase, covering myself with the blanket. “Why are you walking around like a native american? Didn’t seem like you were shy an hour ago.”

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, a blush creeping up as I turn slightly away from him. I glance at him quickly, a little embarrassed, before grabbing my bathrobe and the shower gel.

After the shower, I feel like a new person—refreshed, recharged, and ready for whatever. I step out of the bathroom, my bathrobe wrapped tightly around me, my hair still damp. James is half-lying on the couch, a beer in hand, staring at the ceiling with a relaxed expression. His fingers lightly tap the pillow, keeping time with the music that’s playing in his head.

He stretches his arm out, offering me the beer bottle. I sit beside him and take a sip, the cold bottle feeling comforting in my hand.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, curious.

“Everything and nothing,” he says, his smile playful, resting his head in his hand and making a goofy face. The warmth of the moment makes me feel at ease, like nothing has changed between us.

“Want to listen to some music?” I suggest, and he nods, clearly eager. After a brief debate, we agree on Lynyrd Skynyrd, the perfect background music for the night. He gets up to grab yet another beer, and I lean back on the couch, content in the quietness that fills the space between us.

We talk about everything—what’s coming up with the tour, how my work has been lately, Lars' latest antic (as usual), and just about life in general. Our conversation flows effortlessly, like it always does, and I lose track of time.

Before I know it, it’s already 10 p.m. I glance at the clock—still in my bathrobe, not really caring. We’ve lost count of how many beers we’ve had. I feel a little disoriented from the drinks and the lack of food, but I don’t mind. Our dinner had been a bag of chips we shared, and it felt perfect in the moment.

“Let me get comfortable,” James says, his voice light, and I chuckle, not sure if he’s joking or being serious.

He pulls off his pants and t-shirt, leaving just his boxers, while Jimi Hendrix plays softly in the background. Without even realizing it, I find myself staring at him. Just a few moments pass, and I instinctively drop the bathrobe, now fully exposed. I catch a flicker of excitement in his eyes.

I move closer, crawling onto the couch, and he shifts to give me more room, spreading his legs to make space.

“Round two?” I ask, my voice teasing but confident.

“You don’t even need to ask,” he responds, his tone firm, pulling me gently toward him.

This time, I took control. I kiss him passionately, my lips meeting his with a hunger that surprises me. I bite his lower lip softly, and he responds, our movements slow and purposeful as we connect deeply.

I reach toward him, my hand brushing against the fabric of his boxers, feeling the tension in his body. He keeps his gaze locked with mine, and I can sense the energy between us. He gently places a finger to my mouth, a silent request. I sucked it sofly but with determination and shortly after he slowly reaches my nipple, playing with it. 

I lower his boxers slowly, the anticipation in the air thickening. I start stroking his cock. It's the first time I touch it, and my hand compared to it it's rather little. With the other hand, I start to massage his testicles. He closes his eyes and gasping he let his head fall on the couch. “Fuck..” He moans, letting the beer fall on the ground but we don’t even notice it and I start to stroke him with both my hands increasing the pace. 

"Do you like this?" I ask, my voice low and soft, the question hanging between us.

He lets out a breath, his fingers tightening on the leather of the couch. His voice is almost a whisper, yet filled with intensity. "Isn't it obvious?" he murmurs, his answer sending a ripple of heat through me.

Watching him react to my touch, the way his body moves and shudders with each breath, heightens the desire building inside me. His chest rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern, each inhale and exhale deep and uneven, a sign of the pleasure he’s experiencing. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and I can feel my own heart racing in response.

There’s a certain power in the way he surrenders to the moment, his vulnerability making him even more alluring. I let the quiet tension build between us, each passing second drawing us closer, before I decide to take the next step.

I start licking the shiny and swollen tip of it's length with my tongue with circular movements until I slowly reach the base of his cock. He’s in ectasy, he takes a slow, steady breath, but there's a slight quiver in it, a subtle sign of how much the sensation is affecting him. His pulse quickens, and his chest rises and falls with each breath, as though he's trying to steady himself against the growing feeling. 

“I'm losing my mind” he says, his voice low and strained, his hand gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to steady himself. His body tenses, the intensity of the moment washing over him.

I continued for a bit, but I didn’t want to make him cum yet, so at some point I stopped. His eyes open, slightly dazed, and he looks at me with a mixture of surprise and desire.

I shift slightly, turning around and positioning myself on top of him, my back facing him. I took his member and I push it gently against my entrance making me gasp for his size. His hands rest gently on my hips, guiding my movements with a quiet intensity.

We both move together, the rhythm of our  bodies in sync, each moment more intense than the last. He starts touching my ass with force and sometimes slapping it making me flinch. 

“Lean forward, I wanna see everything.” He said, his voice low, full of intent. I comply, and leaning down I rest my clit on his testicles and the rubbing made me wail.

“You’re so damn sexy...I’m about to come” He says moaning louder. I feel that he's close so I rest my hand on his leg and with the other I touch my clit, I want so desperately cum with him. I squeeze around his dick to increase the stimulation while rolling my hips just enough to feel his entire length inside me. The sensation is so good and I moan so loudly that I bet they would be heard even outside the studio, but I couldn't care less, the only thing that matters is this.

“Fuck, Fuck…. I’m cumming” He cries, lifting his hips, pushing me down, squeezing my waist tightly making me feel his dick even more deeper. His voice becomes lower, breathier, each word strained as if he's barely able to hold back. His member pulsing inside my walls as he releases his hot seed inside me while my hand moving to my clit made me cum insticively. 

"Oh my god!" I gasp, breathless and overwhelmed. The waves of sensation course through me, making my body tremble for a few seconds as the intensity of the moment lingers.

“I love fucking with you..You have no idea” James gasps, his breath uneven as he tries to steady himself, his body still vibrating from the intensity of the moment. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, as he attempted to regain his composure.

As I finally catch my breath, I settle beside him, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. We don’t need words; our bodies have already said everything we need to hear. The silence is peaceful, comforting, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing next to me. He kisses my forehead gently and his hand brushes softly over my shoulder, sending a wave of calm through me. I wish I could freeze this moment, feeling so deeply grateful for everything between us. The music plays softly in the background, a peaceful melody that lulls us both. We fall asleep together, entwined, naked and safe in each other’s arms.

[waxflowerexe]

Gang member (?) Todo x Reader

Building off my older (gang member) Todo who spoils u

ᴳᵁʸˢ ᵀᴴᴱ ᶠᵁᶜᴷᴵᴺᴳ ᴰᴿᴬᶠᵀ ᴰᴵˢᴬᴾᴾᴱᴬᴿᴱᴰ ˢᴼ ʸᴼᵁ ᴴᴬⱽᴱ ᵀᴵ ᴰᴱᴬᴸ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᵀᴴᴵˢ😞

Instead of sorcerers they’re gang members who fly pretty much under the radar of any police. Posing as old money rich. (Will build on this)

Older bf Todo who you meet by chance at a coffee shop (bc cute) he’s just passing by chance to grab a drink, he sees you and he knows he has to have you. He tips you a stupid amount and leaves his number. You were just as enthralled, his scruff yet polished appearance yum. His ponytail littered with greys, yes! And just generally, size kink go brrrrrr

Older bf Todo who waits for your call but doesn’t answer straight away (he’s busy, in a meeting or whatever have you) but as soon as he’s free he calls back realising it’s you he apologises profusely and asks you out.

Older bf Todo who understands your caution. An older man twice your age asking you out isnt normal by any means. But when you call him to agree to a date he’s overjoyed.

Older bf Todo who asks you to dress up all fancy and pick you up a few blocks away per your request and takes. Opening every door and offering his arm wherever you walk. (Chivalry isn’t dead!!!!)

Older bf Todo who finds the most lavish restaurant for your first date and refuses to let you pay for anything regardless of your protests. He swipes his card with a cocky smile knowing he won the little quarrel.

Older bf Todo who takes you on a walk and urges you to talk about all your ‘silly dreams’ (as you put it) but instead of laughing is completely in awe of your passion and drive to achieve your goals. However when you ask him about what he does his answer is vague. ‘Barwork’ is all he offers, leaving you to question the means by which he acquired lavish life he seemingly lives.

After date one turns into two turns in to three and so forth, Todo is obsessed, whenever you’re both free he wants you next to him. He’s always touching you, whether it’s a hand snaked around your waist of simply holding your hand. He begs you to leave your apartment to live with him and after some convincing (buying your old apartment for you to soothe your anxiety about things not working out) you move in together and quit your job. Making him and you all the more clingy. Most importantly he offers to fund whatever aspirations you have.

Older bf Todo who is so good at managing your outbursts and attitude if almost feels mocking. He stands over you while you cuss him out and dosen’t bother arguing, he’s ’too grown’ for that. He lets you blow off your steam, secretly finding it cute how you pace around and try your best not to be calm. He always lets you say your piece no matter how irrational, he says his piece too. More often than not leaving you feeling a little silly because of how worked up you got, but he always reassures you in the end.

“My sweet don’t yell, come, tell me what’s wrong. Let me fix it

“Baby it’s okay to be mad….(insert rationality or gift)”

And if someone hurt you, strangely they’re never seen again.

Older bf Todo who takes you to work dinners every now and again. You always pick up a shady vibe. It’s not really a dinner, it feels like a series of poorly hidden transactions and unspoken alliances. Nobody really eats, even though Todo makes sure you’re well fed as he sips whatever drink he’s feeling. You bring it up but he dismisses you which is unusual, regardless, the look on his face tells you not to pry too much. It’s quite literally the only thing you argue about it

“Love I said fucking drop it, that’s just how it goes”

“I’m not doing this today love”

Older bf Todo who tries to apologise for his sharp tongue and quell your little suspicions by buying you whatever you wanted. Clothes, shoes, bags done. Hell, he’ll even get you all the books and games in the world. Just shut up about his work.

“Darling, that stupid shady bar pays for all your things” (as he petts your hair and shushes you to sleep)

But you ain’t forget 🫣

At the end of the day he just wanted to keep his girl safe

~Flo🌸

[sukunafuka]

1: you were my first ever ask so i love you extra extra— still remember how giddy i got when i read it. i’ve had an unfinished draft for puppy!nanami and then one for a pt 2 of puppy!satoru too for a while..but i never felt like it was as good as the first one i wrote so i havent posted it.. still thinking on it but im so glad you liked it bby<3

2: yaaa i will continue writing on wattpad as well, it’s just easier for me to post quick one shots on tumblr rather than taking the time to plan out every chapter and where it’s headed for the ones in the future with watty and ao3. but i promise i’ll get back to it as soon as im able.. i actually worked on part of a new chapter for each of my fics on wattpad recently so maybe soon!! <3

3: pretty sure you submitted this when i first first started posting a few months ago and lemme just say— it made me giggle and kick my feet. how sweet are you<33 im so grateful you enjoy my work and you motivated me to continue writing fr.<3

4: honestly, puppy!satoru will always be my top favs ive ever written. might be tmi but i def wanked it to that more than a few times 💀 so happy you found as much enjoyment in it as i did lmaoo thank you sm<3

5: so i’m pretty sure you’re talking about my part 1 yuji pussy eating fic and by now the part 2 is already up and i’m working on part 3. thank you sm- i really appreciate the praise fr it keeps me writing <33

6: i thinkkkk you’re talking about the first one i posted being puppy!satoru and i’m assuming by post another one like that you mean a part 2? but feel free to lmk if not, i have 2 unfinished drafts for puppy!satoru and puppy!nanami but they haven’t met my expectations since the first one was so delicious. but hopefully i can get out a part 2 soon bc that first one is still one of my favs ive ever written. makes me so happy to know it’s one of ur favs too<33

7: ANNONNNN when i tell you best friends dad toji was one of the reasons i even started writing in the first place…. i wanna make more about him and write him better so thats DEFINITELY gonna be a long fic that’ll come out eventually. i thought no one rly was into that one so it means a lot that you are. i am so hornee for best friends dad toji lol. i have a soft spot for that one so thank you so much for enjoying it<33

8: TEHEH you read all my fics at that point?! *crying shitting throwing up* i’m so happy to know that you love my writing. ur comment made me jump up and down like an idiot when i first read it and again rn lol <33

9: puppy!satoru shall come eventually since i have a few unfinished drafts for him and puppy!nanami but not sure when.. keep an eye out bc the way i write is rly odd and sporadic so who knows when lol. the ‘pleek’ killed me btw lmaoo. so glad you enjoyed it<3

10: more puppy!satoru shall come eventually xx if i can finish the draft i have for it.. and the puppy!nanami one too. you’re so sweet saying i wrote it well im abt to kiss you on your salivating mouth lol. thank you for reaching out to tell me you enjoyed it<3

11: so like what if i told you im about to pounce on you for saying that. i literally squealed like an idiot when i first read that and again rn. when i first started posting i was nervous but ur ask is one reason i felt more comfy. thank you so much for enjoying my work<3

12: lmaoo suka meaning bitch in polish is so fitting. i’m def sukuna’s bitch and his sucker foreva lol. crazy bc i initially was super into gojo when i first read and watched jjk (who isn’t) but my luv for sukuna snuck up on me. anyways ily thank you for telling me that— so cute<33

[narrators-journal]

Hey, I'm trying to make a Yandere Persona 3 fanfic (Which is being posted on AO3). Can you give me some advice as to how to write it as I'm having a writer's block?

(Note: The Yandere ship being Yandere SEES x Fuuka Yamagishi, though, Ken and Koromaru are Platonic Yanderes, with the rest of SEES being Romantic Yanderes.)

Okay! So, I’ll preface this with, this isn’t some step-by-step guide on how to write your story, it’s just some general advice I could think of. I’m a good writer, but my methods might not work for you, and I do not claim to know what the fuck I’m actually doing. So, keep that in mind while you read this, okay? I’m sorry if none of this advice works for you, and if you have any questions after this, or want some more clarity on these points, feel free to send in another ask, comment, anything like that and I’ll be happy to answer them!

Now, let’s get the big part of this done first. If you want to know how I personally write and manage to craft all the stories like months of tolerance, Winter is a lovely season for weddings and funerals, or any of the smut you might like to read, I...can’t really help. The best I’ve got for that is just, I tend to write what I like to think about, and that enjoyment usually leads me to filling in the details and putting in the extra effort to try and make the writing, story, and implied world around the scenarios as good as I can get them. So, if you just want a walk through on how to gain that skill, all I can offer is to simply enjoy what you write, and write what would make you happy for the story.

Alright! With that out of the way, onto how I tackle my fics! Starting with my first step, making an outline.

OUTLINING

And, trust me, I recognize that some writers hate to outline their stories, it’s boring, it can seem to take all the fun and spontenaity out of writing. But, for a full fanfiction, with something that requires plot, and consistency, an outline is very good. Especially if you’re writing anything with a large cast of characters, like you’re planning to, because an outline lets you keep track of how frequently someone appears, talks, who’s getting too much spotlight vs who isn’t getting enough, and lets you keep track of events.

Plus, it can be a good baby step to work out of a writer’s block because it’s not very taxing on the brain. You’re just taking your ideas, and trying to at least vaguely organize them. So, in that sense, an outline also can work as a pre-rough draft! Because, you’re writing down all of your big ideas and noting down ideas to flesh those bigger points out in a format that’s a lot easier to get out, edit and adjust than a full blown chapter, y’know? So, take advantage of that, and take the time to outline your entire fic before hand. It doesn’t have to be super detailed, you don’t need to fill an outline with polished prose, you just need to get down your ideas in a semi-organized fashion so that you can map out how your plot will go. For example, something like this is how I would outline a fic:

end

Maya and co. finally convince Tatsuya to join their group, booting Nanjo to the curb.

Katsuya and Tatsuya bond after an encounter with Katsuya’s shadow

S!Katsuya: Admit it! You hate your baby brother! He ruined your life!

Katsuya: No! No, I could never hate him!

Tatsuya punches Nyarlethotep in the face

As you can see, it isn’t super detailed or in-depth, it just covers the big points of how they reach the desired end, with some dialogue I thought up as I was writing. And, that leads into my next point of advice for outlines specifically: Start with the ending. If you figure out the ending first, you’ll know what to foreshadow and build in the earlier portions, so I always suggest you start by writing down your ending point.

So, tldr: Try outlining your fic before you get stuck into writing. It’ll help you catch plot holes, recall and keep track of cool dialogue you thought up, and make sure each of your cast has time to shine and some sort of impact within the plot. Especially when it comes to large groups of characters you’ll have to keep track of.

CHARACTERIZATION AND DIFFERENTIATION

This next part is another big thing I keep track of when I write my fics or scenarios, and is especially noteworthy for a group of Yanderes. My personal characterization, and how that differentiates that specific character from the others.

This is the time you work in your headcanons for character personalities or backstory, and I can’t offer any help on that front. Your takes are your takes, the only advice I can offer is to make sure to note those personalities down if you don’t feel confident innately writing that character with them yet. Like some form of cheat sheet on Junpei, or Mitsuru, or whoever you don’t feel you can portray consistently off the cuff. That way, as you write them, you can have something to refer back to for their actions. For example, if I was to write for a yandere Junpei, I’d probably write down:

Keep golden retriever energy

Possibly stand-offish to darling at first. In some circumstances

Probably doesn’t bother to hide stalker behavior.

Likely to gaslight to hide that shit instead

to try and keep him consistent.

Which, is another example of how characterization is very important for specifically yandere fics. After all, not every yandere should behave the same, and for a group those small differences are hard to keep track of in your mind alone. Like, Shinjiro is terrified of hurting those he cares about, so he’s not going to be as kidnap happy as Akihiko. Who is more likely to deem the outside world dangerous and unpredictable, so the safest place for Darling is with him at all times. Yukari has an awful track record of those important to her leaving in some fashion, so she’s going to be far more aggressive when Darling escapes than, say, Minato is. Since Minato’s lower energy, and is convinced he’s ‘normal’, and doesn’t care about anybody, so violence isn’t something he’s keen on. That’s a lot to keep straight if you’re just relying on your own memory for those good character ideas.

So, all of these things are aspects I usually note down for the yanderes I write. It lends them some variety, personality, and opens a lot more potential for Darling to have conflict and a chance. So, I suggest you think a bit about each character you want, and write down how they personally would behave as a yandere. Which, leads into what should be our second to last, major point of advice.

LET THE DARLING BE SMART

As a writer, I can tell you, favoritism is something that happens, lol. Not only in characters, but focus. Sometimes you just prefer to focus on the fun interactions, or the kidnap portion of a yandere story, and that’s fine. But, for a good, filling story, you should always make sure that you are trying to make your Darling/mc at least believably dumb, lol.

Which, transcends the strict vibes of the situation. After all, no matter if it’s overt yandere behavior, or subtle, if your Darling is obliviously a-okay with everything around her, and goes to grab a spoon to defend themself against a psycho killer covered in the bestie’s blood, it can take a reader out of your story. If done wrong, at least.

Plus, a story is better with conflict, and making sure your character is believably smart, can heighten the tension, stakes, and simply provide that friction. It lets your reader have hope that a plan will work, and feel more tense and invested when shit begins to go awry. So always try to make sure your darling has some awareness fitting your plot.

And, finally!

WRITE FOR YOURSELF

Aka, don’t get so hung up on writing the perfect, most polished, tense, believable fic that you end up killing your own joy for it. All of this advice is stuff that I, personally, use to write my full length fics. I like to think of all of the little details and make a thoroughly thought out story, but if you just want to write a lighter, less dark yandere story that’s nothing but pure self-indulgence, go for it!

Hell, I’ve done it, my Ryomina fic, Winter is a lovely season for romance and funerals, is built brick by brick off of my own enjoyment of the idea of Minato being sacrificed to Ryoji. The story was grown around that, and it probably shows lol. So, make sure that you don’t get too caught up in the planning, the consistency of the characters, or how well put together your story is. Just enjoy yourself, and you will usually find an audience who can appreciate the simple fun of your fic. Just be aware of your motivations, and try not to take your fic too seriously.

Annnnnnd that’s all I’ve got for coherent advice! I hope this is helpful, I hope it is clear, and I appreciate that you thought so highly of my writing, that you asked my advice! Again, if anything here is confusing, or you’d like advice on a specific thing I didn’t cover here, feel free to comment, send another ask, whatever! That goes for everybody who decides to read this btw, not just the asker.

[edienotsedgwick]

Introduction again

It’s been a while since my last pinned post and a lot has changed. I deleted it cause I decided I wanted a new one.

The basics

My name is Edie

I’m from Aotearoa/New Zealand.

I’m 20

She/her

I’m autistic (likely autHD actually but the ADHD hasn’t been diagnosed yet)

I’m a lesbian

I’m an animation student on the weekdays, a musician and a essay writer on the weekends.

Aquarius sun, Capricorn moon, Aries rising

INFJ

A witch who’s extremely lazy with her craft.

I’ve been on Tumblr since 2014! You may have known me from…

Many cartoon fandoms. Too many to count. (Spanning from 2014-16)

Emo bandom tumblr circa 2017-18. Particularly the Fueled By Ramen/Decaydance bandom.

Early Scenecore tumblr in 2018. (I still have a few selfies and hit posts from then gaining notes).

Britpop/early alternative music bandom 2019-2021

And since then I’ve just kind of been doing my own thing and mainly using this blog as a personal moodboard and an outlet to post ideas I don’t want to share anywhere else. I do post about a lot of things I like, but I’m not tied heavily to fandoms anymore - I mostly just lurk. That being said though, don’t be afraid to talk if you share a particular interest with me. I always need to infodump!

What I post

Stuff I find pretty. This blog is mainly a moodboard. I keep wanting to expand out of it but I always give up at some point.

Stuff that makes my brain go brrrrr! Mainly bands + shows.

Music stuff! I mainly like to post lyrics from songs I’m writing that are a work in progress, and sloppy covers/demos that I feel aren’t polished enough for my other socials. I also do cheeky self promo of my songs that you can already listen to. You guys should stream my E.P ‘Thing Is Me’.

I’ve been aspiring to write long form essays about things I’ve been passionate about for ages. I don’t think I’ll directly post them here, but once I get my Substack up and running you’ll be able to see them getting crossposted here.

Stuff I like

Feel free to talk to me about any of these things cause they’re my main special interests!

Music history from the 60s-2000s. In terms of what specific period I’ve jumped to at the moment, I’m fixated on mid-late 2000s indie music, twee pop of any era (mid 80s-present tbh), + some of my old favourite scene bands lmao. I’ve been nostalgic for them lately.

Skins UK (yes I know how 2014 and sad of me). I’m a Cassie apologist so leave me alone if you think she sucks lmao. That’s my Blorbina and my adopted little sister who’s currently got a song + a Substack essay series being written about her. In all seriousness though, I find this show to be very misunderstood in general.

Sighthounds! I love all dogs in general but the pointy ones are my favourites. I have a Greyhound, he’s my best friend :,) When I move into my own home one day I want to have another Greyhound + a Borzoi!

This is a very casual one of mine but (in case you can’t tell from what I mostly reblog here) I love fashion! My fashion tastes span the same general group of decades that my music history knowledge does. Much like my current music fixations I’ve been inspired by the late 2000s, but what I actually wear on a day to day basis is never one particular style. I mix and match a lot.

bla bla bla DNI time

Don’t follow if…

You meet the typical DNI criteria (no ists or phobes of any kind please! Just basic bare minimum human decency)

No pro ana (one of my special interests being skins + me seeing myself in a disordered character you made the face of your little circle does not give you a pro ana free pass around me. I’m not disordered myself + I ask you don’t follow me because I don’t want to accidentally trigger anyone by letting people of your group in my space.)

Same goes for general S/H blogs!

That being said, if you are already vulnerable seeing me potentially reference any of these sensitive topics in anything I post/talk about don’t follow me for the sake of your own well-being if you know it will be triggering to you. Stay safe ILY. I do try and tag though and you can always ask me to do that if you wish.

No creeps of any kind! Please do not send me anything sexual, or talk to me about anything sexual unsolicited you will be blocked immediately.

Okay that’s everything! If you’re cool I hope you enjoy following me. Please listen to my music. ‘Edie VC’ on every platform if you want to. You’ll like it if you like twee/folk/dream pop Xx

All the tags below are for my interests, aesthetics that people could say match my vibe, as well as my face tag (if you want to know what I look like) and my text tag. Hopefully I can make some cool new mutuals.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Oh, about my reading to Mom. I’m doing it over the phone, obviously. And I’m basically reading her beloved Terry Pratchett to her. Only wish I had known I could read to her sooner!

See, up until June I’d been told she wasn’t interested in books, etc, but then I took care of her for a while. I thought it was worth a shot, with us alone together so long, to try reading to her. I took Monstrous Regiment and, what do you know, she was keeping me up until 1am reading! She LOVES being read to!

To be fair to the ones she lives with, HOW you read to a person makes a difference. I hate audio books myself, my brain drifting away in words turned into a breeze of flat sound. Actually I’m not keen on being read to, for that matter. I find it a frustrating “You’re doing it wrong!” experience. And do not get me started on nice, soothing, monotone…boring, basically, readings! **

I can’t say how I read, since to me it’s just how I read in my head. Performing it, in a way, but not with funny voices. It’s more like being the story. Like people talking like people talking, or descriptions sounding like me describing them.. I dunno, a kind of naturalism. The pace and tones shift constantly, as I sort of ride along with it. . Mom has always said she loves the way I read because I do it with so much feeling, so maybe that’s enough to explain it.

At some point I became the designated reader in the family. If we all wanted to read something (or reread when it turned out Pop was the only one that had never read The Lord of the Rings) I would be the one to read it aloud at meal times. Or if I made the mistake of reacting with a laugh to something I was reading , I would be told “SHARE!”, which would inevitably mean starting over and reading the whole book aloud.***

A lot of it was self defense, I think. If a book I wanted to read was going to be read aloud, I better damn well do it if I wanted to enjoy it! Otherwise me listening was a waste of time.

My parents and I were readers, but we each had our own tastes. Pop liked being read stories, but preferred science, history, or some other non-fiction. I was all over the place, genre hopping, today reading a classic, tomorrow a Doctor Who novel, the next an essay collection..and constantly getting distracted. But Mom, she was the most voracious reader, preferring books to anything else in her free moments. And when she had an author she liked she wouldn’t let go, as long as she was enjoying their work.

Needless to say, Mom never stopped enjoying Terry Pratchett’s work. Where Pop would never bother to read it on his own, and I would always mean to but never get around to it, Mom would read EVERYTHING.

And she had. She had read all of Terry Pratchett’s published books, and anything else I could dig up for her (Pratchett and Discworld stuff were my go-to gifts for her). I was confident, what with his tragic death, she hadn’t missed a thing.

Then this year a “new” book was published.

Damn.

The book was collecting obscure early stories, some published under a pseudonym. Maybe I could just pretend I hadn’t heard of it. She would never know, and….

No. It was unthinkable! It would be a crime against Mom to let her go to her grave with these few stories inexperienced. Hell, I’d even call it elder abuse!

I asked Mom if she thought she would enjoy me reading it to her. She said yes. My brother said no, she wouldn’t care.

I listened to Mom. I bought the book with money I shouldn’t be spending, but I wanted her to have the full collection. I haven’t been able to afford books for me in ages****, but this was Mom. Spending on someone you love is something you sometimes just have to find a way to do.

The day after Mom’s birthday a couple weeks ago I started reading to her when called her. I didn’t know if I would just put her to sleep….

OMG! She won’t stop asking me to keep reading!!

I’m not joking. The other day it was THREE hours reading to her! Obviously we polished off the first book quickly enough. Then she wanted more. Terry Pratchett, and not short things but full novels, thank you very much. MORE!

It has it’s drawbacks. Instead of walking in the woods while we talk, I’m stuck sitting by Ryoga’s. I never have time to get to the woods, with these short winter days that now have hours hacked out in the middle for reading. Mom’s the only one I have to talk to, so I no longer get a chance to ramble or vent to anyone. Plus, my voice can get really tired after a few hours.

But know what?

I wouldn’t trade it for anything. My Mom is happy and engaged with something after her stoke left her stuck, isolated and at everyone else’s mercy. Reading to her can’t create miracle. It can’t keep her alive, but it can help her enjoy BEING alive!

Plus, you know, I finally have an excuse to read these books!

**My hatred of “poetry voice”, in other words the tones people use for reading/reciting poetry is well known. I think my hatred of poetry is rooted entirely in the unnatural, pretentious filled tones they use.

***How Mom discovered Terry Pratchett, BTW! I was reading Good Omens, back when it was a new book, and ended up having to read the whole thing. I was reading it from the Neil Gaiman side, only after Mom took an interest in the authors did I realize I’d actually read the first two Discworld books when there were just two Discworld books.

Being a kid in a rural place, with no bookstores even in the county, and in a pre-internet age…. well, it was easy to forget the name of the authors before you could find more books by them. They would fade into a “this guy that wrote that book that I also can’t remember the name of”

**** How broke am I ? My birthday is next week, and since I have no friends or family (but Mom) that loves me, I’ve made a tradition of once a year splurging by going to a movie and getting take out. It is literally the only time in the entire year I do either. And I seriously doubt I can afford it this year.$1000 a month for myself and the animals doesn’t go far enough for luxuries.

[warukunaimirai]

Tonight at a Jazz Bar ♦ A Quartet of Freedom and Passion | Episode 9 「A Melody to Relish In」

Nobel: —Thus, our final rehearsal begins.

Our time is running out. It’s not long at all until our final scheduled show.

But I want to improve, even if only a little. I’ll teach them everything I know, so that they too may comply to the best of their abilities—

…Truthfully, there are parts I invested too much passion into. If you were to ask if this resembled the usual me, I’d say it doesn’t in the slightest.

But there’s no problem with that. It’s fine, isn’t it? This is all in accordance with my “kokoro”...

⋆　♦　⋆

A few days laterー

Alto: …The day of their last show has finally arrived.

Old Barkeeper: It has. I’m truly indebted to them.

Alto: Could I ask you something? After today, what will happen to this bar…?

Old Barkeeper: Hmm, like I’ve mentioned, I’m running this bar as a hobby. It doesn’t have to stay open but…

Now isn't the time to come to a conclusion. Let’s save it for after today’s show to think about, hm?

Alto: …! Right! I think that’s a good idea…!

Old Barkeeper: I wonder how he’s doing? It looks like he’s enjoying himself playing, doesn’t he?

Alto: Are you talking about Nobel-san? Yes, he does. When he’s here, he seems a little different from his usual calm self…

I can see a bit more childishness in him. He really loves jazz, doesn’t he?

Old Barkeeper: Certainly…that’s exactly why he couldn't make any compromises with his own performance.

Alto: ! …You noticed it too?

Old Barkeeper: I’ve seen my fair share of musicians. I can get a good idea of what they’re thinking after a show just by looking at them. 

I was concerned about what would happen if he couldn’t shake off his doubts before the end…but it looks like my worries weren’t necessary.

Alto: I feel the same.

Old Barkeeper: It’s rare to find someone with such a deep appreciation for jazz these days. Especially when it comes to androids.

Alto: Nobel-san has been a regular here for a while now, right?

Old Barkeeper: I’ve known him for an awfully long time…I’m incredibly grateful to know that there’s someone out there with an attachment to this bar.

Well then, they should be starting soon. Let’s enjoy the show.

Alto: Yes, let’s…!

⋆　♦　⋆

Nobel: —May I contradict myself one last time?

Einsatz: Contradict?

Nobel: Jazz…and especially live performances don’t need to be perfect once a certain standard has been surpassed.

Ruma: My my, that certainly is quite the contradiction.

Nobel: The condition of the night, the mood of the audience and the band’s composition and instruments create slight changes.

Music changes its form like a living being. This may come across as strange but the fluctuations of it are often a welcome occurrence if anything.

Night: Ah, I think I understand! For comparison, performances at Babel are always live streamed.

Of course, our performances are polished to perfection but some of the most enjoyment comes from little arrangements or ad libs.

Nobel: How impressive, Night. When examining both Babel and this place, they certainly do feel similar.

It’s especially characteristic of jazz considering its origins of popular music that was played in bars and entertainment districts.

Ruma: Oh, is that so?

Nobel: There’s a number of different opinions on the matter. Whatever the case may be, I enjoy music such as jazz that adopts that sort of crude atmosphere.

Especially the jumps, the variation…the way it engulfs the audience and creates a singular groove. That is what jazz is.

Einsatz: —I see. I will update my data related to jazz music.

Nobel: I am truly grateful to all of you. You’ve accommodated my greed and improved your performance skills beyond perfection.

So from this point forward, you’re free. Without worrying about reenacting the classics of the past, without getting caught up on exquisitely handling the instruments—

Let’s have fun. Let’s enjoy ourselves. Allow the melody to show you the way.

Back | Next

[becca-e-barnes]

do you have any pornstar dbf!bucky thots👀

The Video

I've had this thought in my head all damn day and I just needed to write it. I'll link this piece on both my Dad's Best Friend!Bucky master list and the Pornstar!Bucky master list because I don't want to choose.

Consider this the piece I wrote to celebrate my birthday today 💗 here’s to 23 with you lovely folks! 🥂

Pairing: Pornstar! Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You find out what your father’s best friend does for work.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s, Bucky is in his late 40’s), vaginal fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, praise kink, mentions of rough pornography, dirty talk, pet names, degradation

Minors, do not interact

Avoiding Bucky had never been your plan, purely because it would’ve been a fucking stupid one.  Realistically, it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid someone who probably spent more time at your house than they did their own.  When he wasn’t at ‘work’, your father’s friend seemed to spend his time at your house, mowing the lawn or polishing your mom’s car or watching some pointless sports game with your dad.

You’d never really questioned what Bucky got up to for work.  You imagined growing up that he must’ve practiced a trade since he was always the one your father called to fix the kitchen sink when it sprung a leak or tinker with the garage door when it became difficult to pull down.

Now that you were fully clued in however, it all made painful sense why Bucky had been so evasive when you had come right out and asked him what he did for work the year before you graduated from college.

“What do you think I do, sweetheart?”  He had asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his soft, pink lips.

“I have no idea, Buck!  You seem to have as much free time as you like, I just don’t understand how you pay the bills.”  You had mused, sitting in your own garage on a work bench, swinging your legs in front of you, secretly hoping that Bucky would notice just how cute and tiny those shorts you were wearing are.  Unfortunately for you, he didn’t look up from under the bonnet of your dad’s jeep.

“I guess you could say I’m self-employed, angel.  I pick and choose the jobs I want.  I have plenty of offers.”  He tried to keep it as non-descript as possible, dodging the question rather than lying about it.

“I bet you do, you seem good with your hands.”  He could tell by the genuine innocence in your voice that you truly had no idea.  You weren’t leading him to answer one way or another.

He huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the rag beside him, wiping the oil from his hands, muddying the white cloth with the dark residue.  “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.”

It all made perfect sense now though, scrolling through picture after picture on your phone.  Every drag of your fingertip brought a fresh wave of video thumbnails, each somehow more obscene than the last.  The titles certainly weren’t much better.  

Pictures of beautiful young women flooded your screen.  Some had their makeup thoroughly ruined, mascara tracked down their cheeks and a fucked-out look in their eyes.  Some were on their knees, their hair grabbed into a rough ponytail while they rested the tip of a cock on their tongue.  Some were bent over, evidently ‘trapped’ under their bed with their ass in the air. 

Curiosity got the better of you, after ignoring a warning from your brain that this might be an invasion of Bucky’s privacy.  It was all posted on the internet after all, it’s not like he could keep it a secret forever.  

One video caught your eye, titled ‘James Barnes fucks tight brunette, HUGE cumshot’.  The crude objectification made you wince a little but the short snippet of video that the thumbnail provided you with seemed a little bit gentler than the rest.

Skipping the first few minutes helped you feel like you weren’t too invested.  This was research.  Plain and simple nosiness.  You had no intention of watching this for any purpose other than to see whether Bucky Barnes had perfected his craft or not.

“Shit, that’s it.  So fuckin’ pretty like this.”  The voice from your phone was familiar but so much lower than you’d ever heard it before; so deep, you could only have described it as a growl.

The girl whimpered, almost pathetically.  You couldn’t blame her.  Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination and judging by the reaction of the woman he was buried inside, he managed to hit all the spots he needed to.

You’d heard fake moans before.  Hell, you’d made plenty of them yourself.  Enough to know that the woman you were watching wasn’t orchestrating hers for the benefit of the camera.  No, those were real.  Right down to the trembling thighs either side of Bucky’s narrow hips.

“You have no idea how perfect you feel.  Tight and wet and warm.  You take me so fuckin’ well.”  You watched as he slid inside her, painfully slowly.  Admittedly, her body did take him well, letting him sink in until he had nothing left to give.  This poor woman was already looking somewhat blissed out, begging him to fuck her but that’s when you skipped forward to about a minute before the end.  That same woman was now clawing at his muscular back, whimpering and sobbing delightfully while Bucky pounded into her.  He wasn’t holding back in the slightest, letting the same filth tumble from his lips.

“Oh baby, you sound like you can’t take any more.  Are you done?”  He was so condescending, it made your gut tighten with lust, a dull throb settling between your legs but the woman only shook her head.

“Good girl.  God, ’m so close.  You’ll never get enough, will you?  Just a needy fucking slut for me.  Gonna have you all cock obsessed.  Bet you’ll think of me every time you touch that pretty pussy of yours from now on.  You’ll be begging to see me again.”  Bucky sounded wrecked, finishing his sentence with a drawn out, low groan.  Within a couple of seconds, he had pulled out, splashing his seed all over the woman’s tummy, pearlescent spend rolling down her sides and onto the sheets while some pooled on her heaving chest.

Over the next few days, you tried desperately to get what you had seen out of your head.  You tried hard, you really did.  Perhaps it didn’t help that late at night, you found yourself going back to watch more.  Perhaps it also didn’t help that you found your hand drifting under your panties as you watched, taking care of that familiar throb that seemed to turn into an ache when you watched for too long without touching yourself.

Dodging Bucky was simple enough but you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever.  Hiding in your room couldn’t become a hobby just because you found out your father’s best friend, the older man you had been so innocently crushing on, was a porn star.

The first time you bumped into him though, it was game over.  He could tell just from the way you looked at him that something was up, or rather, the way you couldn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”  He asked, watching you make yourself look busy in the cereal cupboard late one afternoon after he had walked into your kitchen.  You saw him coming and very obviously tried find any excuse that meant you wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I’m fine, looking for cereal.”  You replied, your head almost buried in the cupboard.

“Well, I hope you find it.  If you can’t see it from there, you’ve got a problem.  I bet your nose is practically touching the box, you’re so deep in there.”  He sounded too damn amused and it only made you more embarrassed.  This really was the last thing you needed.  “Why are you avoiding me, honey?”

There it was.  You were called out.

“I’m not!”  You tried to sound sincere but you weren’t awfully successful; you knew even as you were saying the words that it wasn’t going to fly.

“Mhm, and the fact you saw me coming has nothing to do with how you’re buried shoulder deep in the cereal cupboard?  Don’t think I’m stupid.  I know you’re avoiding me.”  In hindsight, you maybe could’ve handled that a little bit better but now here you were, pulling yourself back out and forcing some painfully awkward eye contact.

“I’ve seen the videos.”  You mumbled, looking away and making yourself busy with your nails.

“Okay.”  He dragged the word out a little, slowing it down and only adding to it’s gravity.  “And?  You’re an adult.  You know what porn is.  Things don’t need to be weird but if you’re uncomfortable having me around, I can leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to, I don’t have a problem with it.  It’s all just very… Rough?”  You weren’t really sure this was a conversation you wanted to be having, shame burning in the pit of your stomach because clearly you’d just admitted to watching more than a video or two.

He paused for a second, nodding his head, the couple of light grey hairs at the crown of his head glinting in the light.  “You’re right, sweetheart.  It's a little rough at times.  That’s not my preference, that’s the script I’m given.”

That made sense and somehow settled you just a little.  “So you just stick to the script?”  You quiz, holding eye contact with him again for a few seconds before it got too intense.

“For the most part.  It doesn’t tell me what to say, that’s all up to me.  It just gives me direction.  It’s a running order of the scenes we’ve agreed to shoot.  Most of those videos certainly aren’t a representation of how I would want to fuck if I got the choice.”  His lips were curled in a soft smile, watching you lap this all up.

“A-and how would you want to fuck if you got to choose?”  You couldn’t quite believe you’d said it but apparently you did because the question hung in the air longer than you might have wanted it to.

“Well sweetheart, that depends.  I’d treat a pretty little thing like you a bit differently.  I’d have to be slow with you.  Really ease you into it.  I bet I’d have to spend a lot of time working you up to take me.  I think I’d start by giving you my tongue until I can slip a finger into you.  Then a second finger.  Maybe a third if I think you can manage it.”  He could see the effect this was having on you.  You’d wanted to imagine it while you’d watched his videos but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into the fantasy.  Now he was dragging you into it.

“Then I’d put you on your hands and knees.  I’d tell you to rub yourself while I press inside you, so slow you’ll be begging me to give you all of me.  And when you’re at that point, ruined and desperate for more, I’ll fuck you nice and slow.  I’ll have you just as addicted as those other girls but with a kinder pleasure.  I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how badly I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of your skin I can.  I’d tell you how gorgeous you look when you cum and how it’s better than I ever imagined.”

God, this was something close to a dream come true.  “I-I’d like that.  That sounds… Nice.”  Words were really failing you, hoping this was a genuine offer and not just some hypothetical situation that would never play out.

“It does sound nice.”  Bucky huffed out a laugh.  “It sounds real fucking nice.  I shouldn’t want my best friend’s daughter cumming around me.  I know I shouldn’t.  I know I think about it far too often but nothing gets me off the way you do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an embarrassing arousal throbbing its way around your body, settling in the pit of your stomach.  Heat blossomed in your chest, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t some sick joke.  

“I want that.  But I don’t want you to be too gentle.  I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck.  Not what you think I need.”  Your confidence almost caught him off guard and he didn’t expect to find it as sexy as he did.

“God, you’re a tease.”  He muttered under his breath, crossing the short space between you both to crash your lips against his.  You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the difference in size almost making you shudder because you’d never felt this small against a partner.

His lips were soft, his hands wandering seemingly everywhere at once and it was so much to take in.  Fuck, it was perfect.  Intense and hungry but not overwhelming.

“Bed, Buck.”  You pant between fervent kisses before he’s grabbed you by the back of the thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to your room. 

You both had your clothes stripped off in a frenzy, not giving much thought to anything other than the way your lips slotted together.  Your bottom lip felt perfectly at home between his teeth, the slight pain of his bite only making you moan.

“You’re such a good girl.”  He whispers, tugging your panties off and groaning when he realises how slick they are already.  “Fuck, I should’ve known how bad you’d need this.  It’s always the ones you least expect.”

His breath feels so hot on your neck, littering the skin with kisses and gentle nibbles, panting tiny groans against you while his fingers slide over your core.

You’re wet and messy, aching with a need you didn’t know you were capable of.  “Oh sweetheart, I could slip right into you.  You’re soaking wet for me.  God, you’re a dream.”

“Buck, please.  I want your tongue later.  P-please just fuck me first.”  You could hardly manage a conhesive thought with the way his fingertips played with your body ever so gently, alternating between rubbing little circles on your clit and teasing your hole with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in just to the first knuckle.

“This is wrong, sweetheart.  So fucking wrong.  I shouldn’t get this fuckin’ excited hearing you beg for my dick but it’s all I’ve wanted for months.”  His voice is just as low as you heard in those videos, dripping with arousal.

“The only thing ‘wrong’ here is the fact you’re not inside me yet.”  You giggle quietly, rolling over and presenting your ass to him, exactly how he had described earlier.  

Whatever self-control he had was gone.  Long gone.  The sight of you offering your slick, hot core was more than enough to ruin him but the way you watched him over your shoulder with an excited smile almost had him trembling with need.

“This is wrong.”  He whispered, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, grunting at the feeling of the wet heat.

“So wrong.”  You repeated quietly.  “S-so fucking wrong.  We shouldn’t be doing this.”  You were breathless already, pressing yourself back until his tip had just slipped inside you.  “We shouldn’t need this as badly as we do.”

Bucky’s groan was beautiful, watching as you shifted yourself back to allow the rest of his length to slide slowly into you.

“You know damn well what you’re doing to me.”  He sighed, looking away from the sight of his thick length gliding home.  “Play with yourself.  I won’t last long this time sweetheart but trust me, I’ve got all night with you.”  

You’d never seen him this wrecked so early on in any of his videos so you did as you were told, letting two fingers circle your clit the way you often did when you watched him slide into those other women.  

You heard him take a deep breath, pulling back out as far as possible without slipping out before pressing back in again, dragging a soft groan from both of you.  This was everything you’d both longed for and more.

His huge hands squeezed the cheeks of your ass, admiring the how soft and plush it felt under his touch, dragging himself back out only to press back in, earning another groan.

You could’ve taken this forever, enjoying the way his tip nudged that delicate spot inside you while your fingers worked exactly how you like them to.  This was bliss in its truest form.  This was the passion you had craved, the gentle touches and soft praises but accompanied by an all-consuming pleasure.

“Faster Bucky, please.”  You whined and hell, you looked like a goddess, fallen forward onto the bed, so consumed by sensations that you wanted to have no control over and he could recognise that so clearly.

“Tell me you need me.”  He panted, speeding up his thrusts, letting each one land beautifully before forcing himself momentarily from the heat of your body once more.

“Oh God, I need you.  I need you, Bucky.  I need you to fuck me faster.  Fuck me harder.  It feels so good.  I’m gonna cum for you, I just need more.”  You couldn’t help but sob, drowning in the litany of groans and curses falling from the older man lips.

Your fingers worked faster, in time with the thrusts you were receiving until it all come crumbling down around you.  The knot in your tummy tightened unbearably, your heart pounding as the sensation took over entirely.  It was a perfect release, your body clenching and tightening rhythmically while you sobbed the ecstasy into the pillow under your head.

“Oh good girl, that’s it.  Cum nice ‘n hard.  O-oh God.”  You vaguely registered Bucky coaching you through your orgasm before reaching his own but unlike any of his videos, he didn’t pull out.  He stayed buried inside you, pressed as deep as he could go.  You felt the weight of his seed inside you, the position allowing it to drip deeper, pooling at your cervix and the thought alone made you shudder.

“My God, that was…. Wow.”  He laughed, kissing down your spine before pulling out and flopping onto the bed beside you.  

“Yeah… Wow.”  You giggled, kissing his cheek and curling up against him, not really worried that you were both a little sweaty.  

“I meant it though.  I’ll be gentle with you later.  I’ll take my time with you.  I just needed that.”  He kissed your forehead, running a hand down your back and damn, he certainly wouldn’t hear you complaining.

[moemoemammon]

I just found ur blog and read thru some of ur stuff and im in love !! Ur writing is nice to read, and always gives a nice picture of the situation

If its aight, could u do some headcannons for the demon bros Finding out mc goes real hard on housekeeping ? Im talking fast and good cleaning, does chores without problems, propably even cleans after them (totally doesnt mother them in anyway), all without complaint, mc just cares

Housekeeper MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

The fact that he didn't have to shove a mop and bucket into your hands like the evil stepmother has him like 👀👀

Out of every person he's met, you and Barb are the only ones that actually enjoy cleaning? And now he's wondering if you've been influenced by him in some way because got damn are those floors sparkling-

Ever since you've arrived, the house has been immaculate. But as much as he enjoys that, he worries that you aren't leaving enough chores for his brothers to do.

They're gonna be lazy at this rate, especially if you keep cleaning up after them like that. He's planning to sit you down and have a good talk about how you should rest a bit, and- D...did you polish his desk????

"MC... as grateful as I am to you, I thought I asked you to rest? You don't have to clean every little thing in this house. You're here as our guest, and more, so I won't have you behaving like a maid. But if you're that interested in keeping your hands busy, you may feel free to maintain my desktop. It looks as good as new, thanks to you."

Mammon

Oh, so you're one of THOSE types, huh? The goody goodies that like to make everything clean and sparkly, huh?? Well don't expect him to help ya!

Was an asshole at first. Made messes to see if you'd clean them, tried to dump his chores on you, etc. But now that you've stolen his heart? Yeah, he wants you to sit down.

You're messing up your hands with all that time spent scrubbing crevices and dusting ugly old paintings, when you could be spending time with him!

Tch, that's it! If it's chores that're keeping you from looking his way, he'll just finish them before you can do anything! Checkmate!

"You're always scrubbin' somethin'! Let my brothers take care of the messes, while YOU sit down and watch this movie with me! Ain't no point in watchin' it by myself, so I ain't takin' no for an answer!" "Huh?? Waddya mean 'when was the last time I vacuumed'??"

Levi

Oi oi oi...! What do you think you're doing with that feather duster?! You don't think you've got the right to approach his figures with it, do you?! WRONG!

But you quickly discover how ticklish Levi is, and he squirms out of your way while watching in horror as you... delicately handle every figure? And dust them from top to bottom, without so much as an accessory out of place..?

Wait... are you seriously okay with picking up all that trash?? S-some of it's sticky from all the junk food, and- Gah! Don't go messing around in his closet!!!

Yeahhh Levi doesn't let you clean his room lmao. It's way too stimulating to watch you carefully touch every surface in his room... I-it's like you're heaven everything with your presence, and...

"S-so yeah! The only things you're allowed to clean are the figures and the outside of Henry's tank! Nothing else, got it?! Anything more and I seriously won't be able to handle it...I won't even be able to sit still in my own room......." 👉👈

Satan

Satan found it funny how willing you were to take up every little chore there was to be done in the house and he's got to admit, reading is much more enjoyable in a tidy environment.

But what he REALLY wants to know is how you managed to dust off every single book in the house, his room included, without him?? Knowing?? And you've done every shelf as well, cleaned out the cobwebs behind it, and even repaired that little tear in the upholstery of his favorite arm chair????

Has also deduced that you're probably the maid character in the books that knows everything. Actually, you're a lot like Barbatos. What secrets are you hiding human 🔫

Just kidding. But yeah, when you insist on dusting his room, he follows you around the room and watches you. You know, just in case you fall or something falls on you! No other reason.

"As much as I like having you here all to myself, it makes me feel bad watching you do that by yourself. Why don't you we clean together? We'll get it done twice as fast, and when we're finished, I'd like to read a book to you. You remind me of a certain character from a murder mystery novel I've started."

Asmo

Eeehhh?!?!? You've seriously managed to organize both his endless skin care product collection, and his ENTIRE wardrobe?!? You're amazing...!

And you don't stop there. You were more than happy to clean his tub for him and everything, and you know how hard it is to get oil off the side of a tub, right? You're a lifesaver!

Asmo casually pawns off his chores too you. Oh, he just did his nails! Can you do the dishes? Ah, he just bought this outfit. Can you take out the trash? He's about to go out with his friends to a party, so be a dear and take care of the common bathroom for him?

Lucifer scolds the shit out of him every time he catches him doing that. You're welcome. But don't think Asmo won't repay you! He'll give you so much love, you'll be drowning in it! Figuratively or literally, depending on your preferences-

"Fufufu... if you wanted my attention, you should've just told me! You didn't have to go tidying up my shoe collection, but I'm happy you did~! If you keep spoiling me like this, I might not be able to keep my hands off of you! Unless... that's what you wanted?"

Beel

Things tend to get pretty messy with Beel around, with the trail of crumbs he always leaves in his wake, and how he manages to get every surface he touches sticky. But you must be a miracle worker...

You're like a living roomba, and his ravenous appetite is no match against your cleaning skills! You seem to predict when the food bits will fall, and it's thanks to you that he can eat without a care in the world!

It's actually kind of scary, though. He'll drop a bite of his sandwich and move down to retrieve it to eat, and... it's gone. Poof. Into the ether of the garbage can...

You can still rest once in a while though, you know? Beel offers to help you with the cleaning, and he's more than happy to let you climb up his shoulders to reach those high places. It makes him happy to know he can lend a hand.

"MC, I already cleaned over here so you don't have to do it. I cleaned there, too. That means you don't have anything else to do, so why don't you have a lunch break with me? It's not good to work so hard all the time."

Belphie

Belphie's one for the more observant brothers, so your clean freak habits didn't go unnoticed. He didn't know if you were obsessed with cleaning, or if you genuinely enjoyed it, but at least you were doing it without a fuss?

And man did you do a good job. Everywhere you cleaned was left with the lingering smell of vanilla and lavender, and... you know, the smell is making him sleepy.

Every pillow his head touches seems especially fluffy, too! When he found out you made a regular habit of washing and fluffing them, and they smell amazing... He feels like he's laying on a cloud...

He won't admit it genuinely, but he really does love what you're doing with the place. It makes him feel a little fuzzy inside when he finds his pillow on his bed, freshly laundered and soft to the touch. He clings to it extra tight those nights.

"You know if you keep this up, I might prefer the pillows to your lap. Ah, but don't worry, I don't really mean it. There's no way a pillow could replace you, no matter how good it smells. I think."

[piratesfromspace]

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw.  Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are. 

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

[emile-hides]

H*lding H*nds Imagines

I am once again making content for me and me alone because I have an unhealthy obsession for BNHA blond boys

BNHA Blond Boys X GN!Reader h*nd h*lding moments

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Twice, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

Knuckle brush

You handed him things before

Stacks of papers to grade, coffee after a long day, a napkin when he goes into a coughing fit

But something about this time turns his face a deep red

He withdrew quickly, in a jerking manner that dragged more attention than you’re sure he meant it to

He cleared this throat and thanked you quietly before shuffling off

It took a few moments to really set on you

You’d made contact

Such little contact you’d barely even felt it

He was cold, his skin rough and calloused, wrinkled and dry

How you managed to notice so much with such brief contact is astounding

And also incomparable to how much he noticed

He’s thinking about it all day, glancing at where the contact was made, shuffling, flushing to himself, holding his knuckles to his lips

Do it on purpose next time you hand him a stack of papers and he’ll drop them

Present Mic

In a crowd

It’s LOUD

You and Hizashi are trying to get home after a live show

The crowd is huge and still hyped from the concert

The quarters are tight, the space is limited, and without his towering hair spike it’s hard to keep track of your loud blond

Eventually a strong clasp from a hand horribly decorated in rings, fingerless gloves, and black nail polish claps on your wrist as your continued to be pulled though a crowd

When the world finally starts to calm and you have room to breath his hand slides to connect to your palm

Fingers intertwine with yours as a series of “Y’all good?”s start, followed quickly by an excited narration of the chaos that just ensued

He’d taken your hand so causally you barely even noticed

The two of you walked in a much calmer crowd, hand in hand, as Hizashi randomly picked bystanders out of his vocal range and made up their life stories to tell you

Fatgum

Big hands

You laid idly on the couch in Fatgum’s office, the interns long sense gone home

A pile of paperwork blocked your view of your hard working hero as he sat at his desk

You slumped and slid off the couch, boredom rising as you phone lie dead on the table nearby

A loud groan drives a “Just a bit longer, gumdrop” from behind the piles of unfinished work, a bit longer could be years for all you cared

Sliding across the hardwood floor on your back, you found yourself beside Taishiro’s desk, looking up at him from an angle you were rather use to

He was focused, with a smile still on his face as he worked, writing with one hand, the other causually turning Takoyaki in the grill built into his desk

You sat up, watching quietly. He was typically pretty observant, but he may not yet have noticed your approach

When his hand stopped turning and released, you took your chance

Both your hands snatched his wrist, sitting up a bit to rest yourself on his lap, you examined his large palm

He chuckled, “What’cha doin’, cupcake?”

His hand was massive in your own, enough to make anyone feel like a child. It could engulf you, hold half your torso and still have a pinkie to spare

You pressed on his palm, he hummed and returned to work, leaving you to admire as you pleased

His knuckles were scarred, several gashes and scrapes from punching at materials harder than even his fat could handle

Old burns from cooking, white spots on his finger tips from a time before he learned patients

You leaned back on him, holding his hand in your own, and watched him work

He seemed much more blissed from your company

Twice

Not enough hands

Jin’s a very physical person

He hangs off you every chance he can get, coddling and loving on you

He finds it annoying

So it’s not surprise as you two settled down for a movie night he was instantly on your lap like a cat

He lays over you like a blanket, limbs tangled every which way, head on your chest, looking at you more than the movie

One of your hands lay idly by your head, that one he has his own over, fingers tangled messily, almost uncomfortably

His other arm trapped under you, a hug from below, resting also uncomfortably against your spine

Leaving your free hand to tangle in his hair, a rare sight to have his mask off, though it probably wouldn’t last the whole movie, it should be cherished until then

When you notice his staring at you more than the screen, you choose to join him

You slide your hand from his hair to his cheek, he leans into it with the most lovestruck puppydog look a man his age could muster

He then starts to fidget around, moving like he’s stuck

It doesn’t take long from there for him to start getting frustrated with himself, splitting an argument for two between just him

You gently lift his head to regain eye contact and ask what’s wrong

He nearly starts crying

“I want to hold your cheek too but I don’t have enough hands!!”

He’s not willing to remove your hand from his hold or pull his other arm out from under you to compromise his own needs

He does eventually start crying over his lack of extra limbs to love you with

Aoyama

Standing ovation

Roaring applause rippled thought the auditorium

It wasn’t a big show, or a big stage, but it was your first written play, and seeing it go over so well was enough to bring a tear to your eyes

You joined the audience in standing to applause as the actors took the stage for the final bow

Only the lead, your star, wasn’t there with them

You blinked once, twice, three times before panic set in

There’s no way Yuga Aoyama would miss the chance to stand center stage in a spotlight. If he wasn’t on stage something must have happened

You tried your best not to look around too fervently, not wanting to startle anyone else

When a hand clasped yours

“And let’s not forget the playwright~✨”

Before you could question how he said that with his mouth, you were dragged onto the stage by your previously mentioned star, with his own mic in hand you don’t remember giving him

He held your arm up above his head as he runway walked his way along the stage, you closely in toe

You were going to go on stage eventually but you’d planned to be a lot more quiet about it, when more people had left early not wanting to sit though the applause

But instead, here you were, center stage, hand held high like you’d just won a boxing match by your own and only Aoyama

How he could stand being this bright all the time way beyond you

For now though, it was rather nice 

Ojiro

Lost and found

You stepped out of your class stretching, ready for a well deserved lunch break when you heard your classmates muttering

“Isn’t he from the hero course?”

“What’s he doing?”

Being nosy wasn’t usually your strong suit, but the mutterings has peaked your interest

You followed the eyes of those speaking to find a blond boy sitting in the floor of the hall, knees pulled to his chest to keep his legs from disrupting the flow of traffic, with his tail resting over his feet to protect them from being stepped on

He smiled and gave a light wave to your class as the dispersed

You alone approached him, curiosity peaking. Why was he sitting out here in the hall?

When question he very sheepishly answered, “I, uh.. I got lost on my way to class”

There was several things wrong with that

Number one being, he’d been at this school half a year now. He has one classroom, a big classroom, in the hero course. It’s not easy to miss??

Number two, it was noon. Lunchtime. He has one classroom. How long had he been lost???

These questions had answers and he was, while slightly embarrassed, happy to share he had, in fact, been lost all morning. Not just in finding his class, but also in finding the exit to the building, any teachers he knew, or his phone to call for help

You began to feel sorry for the guy, as this seemed to be a common occurrence in his daily life

With a sigh, you offered your hand to help him up

It was lunch, for all courses, so surely he’d see his hero course classmates in the cafeteria. No one turns up Lunchrush’s food after all

He smiled and took your hand, lifting himself from the floor with a thankyou

“I’m Ojiro, by the way. You are...?”

He was rather polite to talk to the entire walk, his grip on your hand was soft, gentle, and his smile never seemed to waver

Kaminari

Swing yer partner round and round

“Oh this is my JAM!”

Mina excitedly turned up your shitty little radio before kicking herself up off the floor, grabbing Sero all in one quick motion

The two danced horribly off beat, you quickly guess Mina had never heard this song before in her life, just wanted to get moving

“Come on you two, it’s dance break time!”

You found yourself enraptured with her energy, already forgetting the homework you all were doing

Kaminari took your hand much like how Mina took Sero’s and began to dance just as off beat and spuratic as queen pinkie had

You laughed, stumbling with every step, same as the others, the giggling energy filling a previously silent room

Denki’s fingers dug into your knuckles as he smirked, suddenly spinning on his heel and dragging you with him

The two of you became a tornado in your tiny dorm room, barely keeping from knocking into your tea table as you spun like a couple of children

You could hear Mina cheer and laugh, a brief glanced told you Sero was recording this silly moment

You looked across the way at your dance partner

Spinning, laughing his head off like this was the most fun he’d ever had, eyes closed, caring not for his surroundings

You decided to let go

The momentum sent you both toppling, you safely into Mina, who was more then ready to catch you

Denki got the much less desirable aforementioned tea table, which sent him toppling backwards over the also aforementioned homework

If you all could have laughed any louder, you would

Bakugo

Sweaty hands

You always knew when Bakugo was going to hold your hand

He may think he’s smooth, wiping his hand on the pocket of his pants before reaching behind himself to grab at you

But you’d always notice

It was a good indicator you were walking too slow for his liking, or the area up ahead was crowed, or that he simply felt you were too far away

You couldn’t initiate holding hands, when he didn’t actively want to be in contact he’d keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets

So you just had to wait for him to wipe himself off and reach for you

You were free to wrap yourself around his arm whenever, though

He’ll look pissed, but won’t say a word

And if you move away, he’ll wipe his hand on his pants, and offer it to you, a silent plea for you to come back

Honenuki

Magic hands

You stretched out over the couch of the 1-B common room with a whine, the rest of your class in a similar state

Training was hell today, sparing with class 1-A was never a joke, and with Monoma egging the whole game up to be more than it should have been, it all just escalated to a point you all wish it hadn’t

“Alright, next.”

Honenuki, a godsend, your blessed angel, helped Tsuburaba off the second common room couch, his typically wide eyes closed and relaxed as he wobbled his way across the room

You happily took his place, stretching out on your stomach before your classmate with the magic powers of massage

His hands pressed into your back and you instantly relaxed, letting out a low hum as you snuggled the pillow under your chin

Honenuki returned your hum, his hands pressing into all your tenses spots, almost instantly releasing them from their knots

You’d probably have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t over so fast

He had the entire class to get though after all, though he hated to rush an art form

You took his hand as he helped you stand, the actual minute of his touch enough to wobble your legs

Kissing his knuckle and thanking him for sharing his magic, you found yourself plopped peacefully on the couch beside Tsuburaba

Honenuki chuckled at you as he called next, happy to be of service

Monoma

He’s showing off

You’d known for a while now Monoma didn’t know how to shut the fuck up

He’d brag about anything, over anyone, to everyone

He’d always loudly bragged about how much better his class was, how much stronger his friendships were, how absolutely amazing his partner was

You being said partner didn’t make said bragging less annoying

The two of you had been together less than an hour and he was already boasting about your perfection to all who would hear

Some genuine, loving, almost gaggingly sweet comments

Others just to rub it in the face of class 1-A as much as possible

A week into this relationship and people were starting to think you must be come kind of god with how Monoma spoke about you

You’d been on two dates with the guy

Now here you were, holding his hand on the walk to class, and regretting every step

As every single person who passed must take note of the fact you were holding his hand

And also must be aware how blessed he is to be holding your hand in return

And really you started to understand the concerned look Kendo gave you when you told her you’d agreed to date Neito Monoma

Still his words were genuine, no matter how they came across, and he truly had a million and one things to say about you

So you could hold though the embarrassment his overexcited bragging may cause

He just wants to show you off

Mirio

Quietly

You sat by his bed side, holding gently to his limp hand

Moments ago he was inconsolable, crying and screaming his lungs out

His quirk gone

His teacher gone

Everything he worked so hard for seemed to vanish in an instant

His grip, still so strong, had left your hand bruised, circulation cut off

It wasn’t a concern you really had

Sleeping, his pain was still so obvious

Bags under his eyes, dried streaks of tears still down his keeps

And your hand still tightly gripped in his

What would happen next, where he would go, who you all would become

They were all problems for the future

Tomorrow you could work on a solution

Tonight, you could hold his hand

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity

Three months, two days and seven hours.

That is how long you’ve been in Dimitrescu castle for. If rumor is to be believed, you are well on your way to setting the year’s record for longest living maid. Well. ‘Maid’, according to their perception. Your mind always automatically corrects it to something more fitting:

Prisoner.  

You did not choose to work for them. You did not choose to be in this godforsaken place, cleaning crimson stains off the floors, trying to convince yourself the wailing that sometimes reaches your ears is simply the wind. You never would have imagined your life’s end like this, serving wine –no, who are you kidding, it’s too crimson for that— to the Dimitrescus at dinner until one of them snaps and drives the nearest blade into your throat.

Probably Daniela.

It’s not unheard of. And stories of other maids’ murders are plenty.

Daniela has bitten one’s throat off for the crime of addressing her wrongly. Cassandra has left increasingly deep gashes, some of which resulted in deaths, for random offenses, like staring at her for too long. Bela, arguably the more merciful of the three, has snapped necks only when the staff disrespected her sisters’ names, or her mother’s.

You aren’t sure if you want to thank the older maids for this information or yell at them for the nightmares it has caused you. You are lucky to not be in the village, they say –everyone there must already be dead. You are even luckier to have been taken from the dungeon by the Lady herself. It means the daughters don’t know you and the castle is big enough that they may never spare you a glance.

You hadn’t believed it, at first.

Yet in the three months of your stay, you have never come across anyone other than Bela in the sections you were assigned to clean and polish. She passed you by the hallway like she did the decorations and the furniture –and you couldn’t be happier about it. You have caught scarce glimpses of Alcina Dimitrescu, too. Never the other two residents.

Not until the fateful day another maid disappears and the staff’s assigned posts change. You have no say in it and no power to object.

May as well keep my head down and continue to work as carefully as I have. That is the idea. Not to look too much, or think too much, or feel too much. Avoid mistakes because those in the castle are fatal.  

It is a little difficult to remain utterly calm when the sound of swarming insects comes from far behind you, though.

Your blood starts to kick in your veins. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest and make a run for it. You lock your muscles down and summon all the willpower you possess to stay focused on your task.

Please be Bela, please, please, be Bela—

The buzzing dies down. Steps approach you in the otherwise silent hallway. They are too light to be Bela’s. You’re probably screwed, you think, but you keep cleaning the surface in front of you until it’s practically a mirror with how it shines.

The steps halt too close to you for comfort. Out of the corner of your eye, you realize they’ve left bloody imprints on the floor you’ve been polishing for hours now. Dainty, pale fingers are wrapped loosely, almost lazily, around a sickle dripping crimson.    

“Never seen you around, before.” the sound of her voice makes you freeze.

You stop and turn— to face none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her hood is down, brunette waves on point, the dried blood at her chin a terrible contrast to her otherwise attractive face. You… didn’t know she was that pretty, up close.

“I… I have been here for three months. On the opposite wing.” you say. Was I even supposed to reply? You’ll find out soon enough, if your tongue is still attached to your body.

Her eyes give you a quick once-over. “Bela’s been keeping you a secret, huh.” she tsks. Her free hand goes to the handle of the door next to you… and only then do you realize it must be her bedroom. You’re literally assigned to clean the wolf’s den. “Come wake me up when the sun has set, completely.” she emphasizes.

What.

“Uh—”

The crimson-dyed sickle moves until its blade rests underneath your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet hers. From this angle, under the pale lighting of dawn, they look more –stunning— blue than inhuman gold. “No loud sounds. No lights. Got it?”

How can you not, when your life depends on it?

“Yes, my lady.” you reply. You don’t even dare draw breath.

“Good.” In one swift movement, the sickle is gone, the handle turned and she’s already shedding her robe.

You catch a glimpse of a black corset and a narrow waist before you avert your eyes.

The door shuts.

...

Waking Cassandra up can be… tricky, the other maids tell you.

She detests light when she opens her eyes but she also doesn’t want it to be pitch black. You’re not supposed to talk but you can’t shake her, either. Which brings you to the very logical question:

“What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

To which they have no answer.

They have no answer, you realize with a start… because there’s nobody alive to tell the tale of how to actually wake the brunette sleeping beauty up without simultaneously signing their own death sentence.

The hours pass both too slow and too fast. The sun sets over the horizon.

And you stand, riddled with nerves, outside Cassandra’s room.

A deep inhale later, you turn the handle. The door is left half-open so a bit of light comes in from the hallway. Her bedroom smells like shampoo, bath salts and spices. She must have taken a shower before she went to sleep. You approach the figure tucked under the silken sheets of the queen-sized bed…

Cassandra is lying on her side, one hand underneath her pillow, the other extended loosely towards the edge of the mattress. She probably sleeps naked, at least from the waist up, but thankfully the covers are wrapped around her chest. Their royal red color makes a stark contrast against the paleness of her skin.

Her face is so… serene.

She is a monster and a sadistic killer, yet right there you can’t deny she looks more like a renaissance painting.

Now onto the hard part.

“My lady… the sun has set.” you whisper, kneeled on the floor beside her. No movement comes. “Hey… I’m here to wake you up?” you try again. Still nothing. Shakily, you bring your hand up to the bed. Not daring to touch her, you leave it beside hers, over the covers. “Cassandra?”

She turns her face deeper into her pillow –no, no, you don’t think it’s cute, what’s wrong with you— but at least she’s finally reacting. You call her name one more time.

Her nose scrunches up a little. Long fingers flex –and they touch yours. She’s cold. A pair of blueish ambers blink open to regard you. Not with malice, or with annoyance.

“Good evening.” you speak, unsure of what else to say.

A smirk slowly curves her lips. She looks like a lazy cat pondering whether or not it’s worth it to pounce and that’s not good. It’s not good, not ‘hot’ like your mind suggests. God, you’ve been in this castle so long you are starting to get messed up.

“Mm, breakfast in bed.” she grins and licks her lower lip sexily. Your eyes fly wide open, but her hand is already gripping the front of your black shirt, trapping you there.

How could you ever find this psycho attractive?! you get mad at yourself. Is she hot now that she’s going to kill you?  

But Cassandra only lets out an airy laugh and releases you. You fall backwards on your behind. “Breathe, darling, I’m joking.” She rolls onto her back and seems to wince from it. Her smile vanishes.

“…does… your back hurt?” you ask when you finally find your voice again.

“Ugh, a Lycan landed a hit on me. He’s pieces now, of course, but my muscles still pull.” she says it casually, like it’s a thing that happens.

Silence falls over the room. You take it as your cue to leave. You stand and bow while she’s looking blankly at the ceiling—

But she stops you.

“Wait. Come here.” you don’t like it when she gets that tone, like she came up with something she cannot wait to try. You’re already close to the bed, you’re not sure what she means. Until she pats the spot right next to her. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You won’t. You know what’s good for you.

Hesitantly, you take a seat on the –admittedly very comfortable— mattress. “Yes, lady?”

“Give me a massage.” she says like it’s your job, like she’s the rich woman in a spa and it’s what’s expected. She turns onto her front, bearing her naked back to you and you have less than five seconds to come to terms with the thought of straddling her.

Carefully, you bring your knees on either side of her thighs and pull the sheets so they rest low at her waist. You feel warmer than you should given the temperature of the castle. If she knows the fine teasing line she’s walking, she is loving every inch of it.

Cassandra loves being the center of attention and she loves being pampered, you realize.

It’s probably amusing to her to make you fluster, but this is also an opportunity for you to get on her good graces. She is a dangerous one and it’ll be a great asset for your survival if she’s leaning favorably towards you. Win-win situation. You just have to be good at your job. Like always.

By some miracle of God, you do know how to work the tension out of muscles.

The first time you touch her, you simply rest your hands on her back to warm it. She doesn’t seem to object, from the way lean muscle stretches out under your fingers. Cassandra feels cool, but not hard like marble. Her skin yields under your touch, soft and smooth.

As you apply more pressure to your stokes, she starts to let out little sighs that you have to mute in your mind before they start to affect you. You’ve been high-strung and without sex for too long. Your body all too eagerly intercepts this death-trap as foreplay.

Minutes roll by.

You alternate between all the methods you know. The one that really seems to get her is when you drive your thumb into the knots and end with a little circle.

Cassandra is –God help you— openly moaning every time you press more. It is a bit too much pressure you’re applying though and you don’t know if you’re hurting her and she’s just into it.

“Is this too much…?” you ask. Fuck, why do you sound so breathless?

“No, it’s good.” she husks back.

“Harder?” You don’t know what innocent means, anymore.

Cassandra sends that little smirk again over her shoulder. “Harder.” she replies and the extra flair she puts into it is enough to nearly fry your brain. And other parts of you.

You’re pretty sure you need a cold shower by the time you leave her room.

...

At diner, you hang back in the shadows, gaze downcast.

You do not need to know what the Dimitrescu family is eating, nor what they’re drinking. You do not need to see Cassandra or risk catching Daniela’s gaze. You love your anonymity in the castle. It has kept you alive.

But it is shattered like frail glass when you bring another bottle of Sanguis Virginis to the table. You’ve almost retreated back to your place, when Daniela’s eyes zero in on you.

“She’s the human!” she exclaims like she’s made the world’s most startling discovery. Bela seems to understand, but the Lady and Cassandra frown over their glasses.

“I am almost afraid to ask, love.” Lady Alcina says…

And she’s right.

“The one who made Cassandra go ‘harder’ and ‘yes, yes!’ earlier this evening.” she impersonates in her sluttiest voice and then breaks into a fit of cackles. Bela’s lip twists into a withheld chuckle.

Lady Dimitrescu nearly chokes on her wine.

Cassandra slaps the back of Daniela’s head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Girls.” Alcina warns and glares until the table calms again.

Then, her eyes curiously fall upon you.

So much for your anonymity.

Ko-Fi

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Epilogue

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Minor Fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/n: Grande finale! Oof plz don’t kill me but it’s so cute I loved writing this series so much and low-key I’m sad it’s over but it was so fun to write. If y’all have any ideas for anything you want me to write in the future, send em my way!

Series Masterlist

~*~

The wind is crisp, biting at the exposed skin of his face, his fingers.

He doesn’t mind too much though.

The sky is gloomy, like it might rain later in the day. The clouds are a deep grey colour and there's sorrow on the wind. He can’t help but feel like it’s fitting.

“I uh, I’m not sure what to say, I guess. Bonnie said it would be good to come swing by for a little while but uh I’m not sure if she was right.” His voice is shaky and he closes his eyes, hating the silence that meets him.

“I got you flowers. Didn’t wanna get roses cause it didn’t feel right, so I got you some carnations. Nat said that they last a while too which is nice. They’re real pretty. A light yellow type. Maybe peach is a better description of the colour but-” he cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Here I am, trying to describe the colour of the flowers to you when I’m sure you’ve got other things you wanna hear about.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out, just like the two of you always practiced.

“She uh, she turns two in a few weeks, but you know that. I don’t know if I can do it though. Not without you.”

A cold drop of water splashes against his cheek and it’s only then that he notices the warm tears falling down his face.

“I miss you, doll. Every day it feels like it gets harder, and Bonnie says that’s normal, but I don’t know. I feel like it should get easier with time.” He huffs a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Doesn’t help that Beccs is the spitting image of her mom, that’s for damn sure. But you knew that from the first moment you laid eyes on her. You were all smug about it too, said you gave her all the good genes.” He chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders, “you were right about that.”

He stuffs his free hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels and trying not to break down right then and there.

“She’s beautiful, (Y/n). Absolutely gorgeous. She’s stubborn, just like you. Real talkative too. I asked Steve when to expect this kinda stuff but he says each kid develops at a different speed.” He clenches his jaw tightly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I miss you so fucking much. So damn much. I wish... fuck...” He stops, wiping away the tears and leaning his head back to allow the rain to clear his thoughts.

“I wish you were here. This whole ‘parenting’ gig would be a lot easier if you were here to do it with me. I feel like I can never do it right. And Beccs needs her mom. She’s got Nat, but she needs you.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, doll, I swear. I just... I can't keep it in. I feel like a failure. I need your help.” His bottom lip trembles and he makes the split-second decision not to hide it. No, he opens the floodgates and he lets the tears fall.

“Her uh, her favourite word is still ‘mama’. Got her sayin’ ‘dada’ though. And she absolutely adores Tommy. That’s her partner in crime.” He chuckles once, thinking about how the two interact.

A fresh wave of sorrow washes over him and he drops his head, looking down at the ground and letting out a shaky breath.

“I uh, I still can’t sleep in our bed. Steve says I should try but... I can’t. I need you there and I can’t sleep without you. I stay on the couch most nights. Nat gets worried but I think I’m okay. Yeah... I think I’ll be okay.” He lets out another pained breath then shakes his head and falls to his knees, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“I miss you. I fucking miss you so much. And some days it just hits me so damn hard that I’ll never see your smile o-or hear you laugh. You won't be there t-to see Becca on her wedding day... you won’t hold your grandchildren... you won’t be there when she graduates and we won’t grow old together. No, you won’t see me all gross and wrinkled and old and you won’t tease me when I can barely lift my own damn body. Fuck, I’d give anything to have you back. I would give absolutely anything to see you again. I miss you so much and it’s so hard to live without you.”

He puts his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs as he finally lets himself break.

And break, he does.

He shatters there on that gloomy Thursday morning, heart out for the gods to see, to pick apart. He bears his goddamn soul and he cries. He sobs and he all but screams out his sorrows.

It’s agony.

Living without you has been the hardest thing he’s ever done.

He’d lose his arm ten times over if it meant he could see you again.

When you died you took a piece of him with you, and he knows he’ll never get it back.

“I love you, Doll. So damn much. To the fucking moon and back.”

He kneels there for a long time, long enough for the rain to come and go, the sun peeking through the clouds and the birds emerging from their hiding spots.

He kneels there until his tears have run dry and his heart has stopped aching, his shoulders lighter even if the bags under his eyes are heavier.

“Daddy!” He glances over his shoulder, a wet smile spreading on his face as Rebecca bounds over to him clumsily.

He opens his arms and she runs straight into them, giggling madly and pushing her hair out of her face.

“Do you wanna give mommy the flowers this time?” He asks, handing her the bouquet of carnations. She nods eagerly, sliding out of his grip and gently placing the flowers down in front of the headstone.

“Love you, mommy,” she says quietly, pressing a kiss to the polished granite.

A gentle hand pats Bucky on the shoulder, and he looks up at the source.

Nat stands over his shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

“You’ve been here for a while. Thought we should come check up on you.” He nods, pushing himself to his feet and taking a deep breath.

“I’m okay now. Therapist said I should really talk to her, not just... lay down the flowers.” Natasha nods, pulling the man into a hug.

“We all miss her, it’s okay.” Bucky huffs out a breath, trying to fight the tears but they fall anyway.

“I want one too!” Rebecca exclaims, tugging on his pant leg. He chuckles and pulls away from Nat to pick up his daughter, holding her tightly to his chest and trying with all his might to keep it together, if only for her.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ice cream. My treat,” Nat says, ruffling Becca’s hair then leading the way to her car.

Bucky follows after, pausing for a moment and glancing over his shoulder, eyes tracing over the writing carved into the stone.

(Y/n) (Y/m/n) Barnes.

Beloved Mother, Daughter, Wife, and Friend.

Always on our minds.

Forever in our hearts.

~*~

Fin