#not good representation of him for the record
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And another horrible representation of a country is about my home country, Brasil, Paolo Montes. I don't know if it's a joke or anything but it states that he can understand fluently English but only speaks Brasilian, which it's pretty dumb, because why a character that goes to the USA and expects that he will only speak Portuguese.
And how it's a pun how his unlucky, to the point it almost kills him, more times that it's comical, it just becomes a bad joke. And his mother being Hebe, it's a reference to an actress named Hebe Camargo, but it's not a good reference, as Hebe Camargo had made a lot of racist speeches and jokes along her career.
I am genuinley SO sorry you have to see this cause???? What. The. FUCK. Like holy shit this genuinely makes me angry, like HUH???? WTF???
RICK WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???? The Brazillian pun was bad enough- BUT TO NOT EVEN DO BASIC RESEARCH ON THE ACTRESS YOU NAMED YOUR CHARACTER AFTER???? The bar already was in hell, but holy SHIT does Rick like to limbo dance with Satan. Genuinly this baffles me and I cannot believe I'm saying this...but considering his track record maybe it was good he just white washed and Americanized everything Greek in PJO. 'Cause considering his track record I HIGHLY doubt anything good would have come of it had he actually tried to dig into greek culture. I'm kinda glad the only mention he gave Germany way "Hitler was a son of Hades" now ngl, I do not want to know what kind of weird stereotype he would have done. And again, I am SO sorry and that must suck SO hard to have your country insulted like that. Fuck Rick omfg.
#also saw your second ask#but that'll be a bit longer so unfortunatly I'll props only answer it sometime tomorrow T-T#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#rr crit#fuck rr#he ain't a transphobe like yk but that doesn't mean he's better than her in other things too
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Thank you for the tag in your post, @doublel27! This is a great example of why tagging is polite and vagueposting is rude (I'm going to use this as a teachable moment so bear with me): You've made reference to several stances that I don't hold and linked back to my post as evidence I do, but because you've tagged me, I can now clear the record. I might choose to ignore a tag sometimes, and tumblr can't be relied on to actually alert the person who was tagged reliably, but the point is the tag generally gives me the visibility and the choice; and the link lets people see for themselves what I said, so they can make the determination themselves even if I didn't bother to clarify. If you'd made this post without linking or tagging me, your readers would have to take your word for what my point was and I'd have no way to know you were misrepresenting my position. Whether or not I'd said on main to tag me, using my (or anyone's) words in a post critiquing them without attributing them or tagging the source is rude, and it feels awful to experience. I appreciate you taking the feedback in the original thread and tagging me directly so that I could see this.
You invoked my We Are post specifically as an example of criticism of We Are and Perfect 10 Liners (which, for the record, I haven't written anything about the latter, but I'm glad my post has you thinking about them both in conversation with each other and hopefully trends at large) that informed the perspectives of @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles which you've represented as being: shows which don't meet their metric of good should not be engaged with or are ruining the genre. In fact, in my own post (which you've stated has informed their opinion), I started that post with the opposite statement:
I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people.
I went on to say:
...Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content.
I also am certain that both Shan and Jay know New Siwaj is a queer creator because I laid out in full New Siwaj's history creating shows as a gay creator (which you mentioned as a kind of 'gotcha' in your post) to get to the crux of my concern, which was this explicitly:
I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.
I then brought in other examples. The point I make in this post is that there has been a pattern of shows from ~the last year adapting novels but not including specific aspects around queer conflict from the source material in the adaptation. I am judging these adaptations against the Thai novels they are based on, and looking at the active choices the adapters are making in the context of the markets in which they operate--which, for the record, is the opposite of ignoring their agency. I would say the same statement for Shan's and Turtles' posts (linked for convenience). And to assume Shan and Turtles only took away the critical aspect of my post or that they aren't making their own judgments of the BL scene at large seems like a disingenuous interpretation.
The part of your response and the original post by @maybe-boys-do-love that bothers me is that it implies that I think (I'm now assuming MBDL was responding to me among apparently several others, since you've invoked me in this response and suggested you've been speaking to him about it, but without having been referenced in the original post I have no way of knowing--just to again underscore my frustrations with vagueposting) that only my way of seeing shows is correct or valuable; that I conflate sex scenes with queerness; that I think BL romcoms are less valuable, less queer, or less good than more serious toned takes; or that these shows should not exist or be made in future. I would hope it's clear from my own writing that I don't think any of that, and that anyone reading @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles's posts would understand they also do not think any of this. I'm not sure who either of you are actually mad at, but the ideas you're fighting are not written in any of the things I've said or anything I've reblogged from Shan or Turtles. And the insinuation that the criticism of the writing of these shows holds some kind of power to prevent others from enjoying or making series like this is frankly giving any of us too much credit.
Looks like while I was writing @wen-kexing-apologist wrote a great summary of the points made in the original posts by Shan and Turtles in the comments section of their post, so anyone reading can feel free to go there to read a 2-comment summary if you don't want to go back and read the full set of threads for yourselves.
It's not a good use of energy to argue about how someone chose to interpret my words or the words of others, so I'll stop there. I'm happy to discuss the points that I've made in my writing, but defending against bad faith interpretations of my or other people's posts is not what I want to spend any more time doing.
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Rejection Sensitive
It'd be neat to have upset feelings about things other than you
We could talk about them and everything would be fine
(Because you make everything better)
Instead, I frame my fears to be about school
And pretend I haven't cried
(Cried in my car every other week)
(Cried everytime you say you're hanging out without me)
(Cried driving home cause I couldn't stay
in the parking lot all day)
I come across as cold and annoyed,
when I throw my hurt feelings into the void
But how can I show them
How can I tell you
Without being dependent
Or keeping you from something new
I get why you're always leaving me
Cause I'll never leave first
Or if I do
It's only cause I'm hurt
But I don't know how to want to leave
It's no wonder you get sick of me
#poetry#feeling alone#lonely poetry#poems on tumblr#poems and poetry#love poems#i suppose this is a love poem of a sort#i get why other people would see it that way anyhow#not good representation of him for the record#i know this isnt how things are#its only how they feel
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i have bad news for anyone who expects mental illness to be family friendly
^ yeah!
#thats a pretty good summary of it.#ask#anon#arsenic#ok ill rant about the au and mentall illness— nick's not diagnosed with anything. doesnt mean he doesnt#- /have/ anything.#mostly im thinking npd and bpd but this dude just. is not self aware at all. nobody ever told him. oops#im also giving him low empathy because i'll give low empathy to any character im obsessed with#(read: im projecting) (same way im making sunny trans. have i ever mentioned sunny's trans in this AU)#anyway. sunny's autistic but ive said that one before#nick is a psychiatrist's wet dream i think.#for the record i dont think people with npd or bpd are evil. im not evil. my friends are not evil#this AU doesnt exist to be good representation! sorry#anyway narcissistic abuse is not a real thing and aspd was made up by psychiatrists who thought that surely people being violent-#- means they're mentally ill. they based the diagnostic criteria off of criminals. the dsm is made up and none of this is real#i could rant about the way PDs are treated for hours. do NOT give me an opportunity to do so#this AU is not good rep but if someone starts calling nick a psychopath or a sociopath i will bite !#omori#rant
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Obsessed with the idea of Megumi coming out of the whole Shinjuku thing without scars...and being miserable because of it.
I just have this image in my head of him looking at himself in the mirror and feeling like...dysphoric about it, outwardly he still looks like the kid of a few months ago, the one that still had hope for his sister, the one without her blood on his hands, the one that had never felt what having his body stolen from him felt like.
And yet, Megumi will never be that person again, he will never see himself, or the world around him the same way again. That boy in the mirror is not him, he looks nothing like Megumi feels, that youthful face doesn't represent the misery Megumi has endured, the way he feels as if he has lived a hundred years already, the innocence in his features despite the blood on his hands made him want to puke, and the lack of any sort of scars felt like a mockery, despite everything he had been through, the face in the mirror could be mistaken by someone that had never been harmed before, someone ignorant of the cruelty of the world, the face in the mirror failed to reflect everything Megumi has endured. That is, except for the eyes.
There was no light in them, not a trace of hope or will to exist. And while the rest of his face felt insultingly flawless, his soulless eyes never allowed him to fall for the illusion, to forget what Megumi really was, an empty husk of a person. Nothing like someone that deserved to be saved.
And it was as he looked at the way too young, yet still haunted face in the mirror, at the same face of the naive kid that, despite considering himself a realist, was still foolish enough to hope that the world would give him a break, that he started to feel something, he felt...anger. Anger, resentment, and hate for the boy in the mirror, feelings so strong, that he started to shake because of them.
In the end, Megumi couldn't handle looking at that face any longer, and without thinking about what he was really doing, he smashed his hand against the glass, shattering it.
Finally, is as he looks in what's left of the mirror, with Megumi's reflection looking broken due to the cracks, that he finally feels satisfied with how it looks. As the shattered face in it finally represents him.
(In the end, Megumi does get those scars. And he sees them not in the mirror, but everytime he looks at his own hand)
#anyways that's the idea#for the record i wouldn't mind if Megumi DID get scars. i usually really like it when my faves get scars#both becuse of the representation of everything they've endured and also cause they look cool#but i had this idea and wanted to share it#plus i think it fits with the idea of how Megumi is “blessed” but also his life sucks#he has the best sister ever but she dies way too young+he is an orphan#he gets a cool technique but it's so cool that he gets his body stolen because of it#he is able to nerf sukuna to save his friends but in retaliation sukuna makes him kill his sister to make sure he losses his will to live#he has no physical scars despite his line of work but who cares because he endured more in a month than most people their whole lives#you know what i mean?#once again im cool with him getting scars. he looks very good in the fanart I've seen#I'm just in love with the scenario in my head. tbh i don't think i did it justice but whatever#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#jjk#jjk manga#jjk manga spoilers#jujutsu kaisen#mine
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Blackwood farm may be a kinda questionable entry in the vampire chronicles BUT that is only because it wasnt told in what its true medium shouldve been, an internet arg
#blackwood farm#quinn blackwood#tarquin blackwood#anne rice#for the record i dont say questionable entry because i dislike it#i say that because its a bit of an odd fit in the series#i actually fuck with it severely#unfortunately it might be the most rasict book in the series#wish anne hadnt put all of. that. in#annes one of the rare writers that makes you wish she tried to put less representation in cause of how bad she is at writing it#like and i dont even know how youd theoretically fix it to not be racist#like if amc for god knows what reason tried to adapt quinn blackwoods story to television#i have no clue how they would de-ick it#like of course theres the dialog that never shouldve been written#and then how do you deal with the. literal. black. servants.#cause like okay obviously theres writing you can improve with them#but like no amount of writing will fix it if theres still literally black servants on this white manor#do you make the blackwoods black too ala louis?#but like i feel like the blackwoods are like the whitest family ever written#i guess you could change things up and alter things to make it work#oh and then theres also the issue of quinns never had a non incestuous/pseudo-incestuous relationship in his life#oh i guess jasmine isnt incest but she has still known him his entire life and is like what 10 years older than him#but you know general audiences might not be too fond of that#its a good thing none of this will ever come up cause no ones ever gonna adapt blackwood farm into anything#sorry for rambling there#i just by far think the racism/racial stereotyping is the biggest problem with the book#and i think its kinda crazy when people critique the book for other little things when theres all of that to pick at#like ok. there isnt enough lestat in it. have you read some of the dialog between quinn and jasmine i think we have bigger problems here#like nothing else in the book was as uncomfortable to read#im like woah i can accept ghost twin incest rape but i draw the line at stereotyping
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"I hate Zeus for *insert something that a lot of other beloved mythological characters have also done at some point in their life*"
Like, sure no one can dictate who you should like and dislike, but denying Zeus the nuance that you would readily apply to the other gods/heroes is just really shallow and boring way to approach him and the mythology where he's literally the head of the pantheon.
In my Zeus bag today so I'm just gonna put it out there that exactly none of the great Ancient Greek warrior-heroes stayed loyal and faithful and completely monogamous and yet none of them have their greatness questioned nor do we question why they had the cultural prominence that they did and still do.
Jason, the brilliant leader of the Argo, got cold feet when it came to Medea - already put off by some of her magic and then exiled from his birthland because of her political ploys, he took Creusa to bed and fully intended on marrying her despite not properly dissolving things with Medea.
Theseus was a fierce warrior and an incredibly talented king but he had a horrible temper and was almost fatally weak to women. This is the man who got imprisoned in the Underworld for trying to get a friend laid, the man who started the whole Attic War because he couldn't keep his legs closed.
And we cannot at all forget Heracles for whom a not inconsiderable amount of his joy in life was loving people then losing the people around him that he loved. Wives, children, serving boys, mentors, Heracles had a list of lovers - male and female - long enough to rival some gods and even after completing his labours and coming down to the end of his life, he did not have one wife but three.
And y'know what, just because he's a cultural darling, I'll put Achilles up here too because that man was a Theseus type where he was fantastic at the thing he was born to do (that is, fight whereas Theseus' was to rule) but that was not enough to eclipse his horrid temper and his weakness to young pretty things. This is the man that killed two of Apollo's sons because they wouldn't let him hit - Tenes because he refused to let Achilles have his sister and Troilus who refused Achilles so vehemently that he ran into Apollo's temple to avoid him and still couldn't escape.
All four of these men are still celebrated as great heroes and men. All four of these men are given the dignity of nuance, of having their flaws treated as just that, flaws which enrich their character and can be used to discuss the wider cultural point of what truly makes a hero heroic. All four of these men still have their legacies respected.
Why can that same mindset not be applied to Zeus? Zeus, who was a warrior-king raised in seclusion apart from his family. Zeus who must have learned to embrace the violence of thunder for every time he cried as a babe, the Corybantes would bang their shields to hide the sound. Zeus learned to be great because being good would not see the universe's affairs in its order.
The wonderful thing about sympathy is that we never run out of it. There's no rule stopping us from being sympathetic to multiple plights at once, there's no law that necessitate things always exist on the good-evil binary. Yes, Zeus sentenced Prometheus to sufferation in Tartarus for what (to us) seems like a cruel reason. Prometheus only wanted to help humans! But when you think about Prometheus' actions from a king's perspective, the narrative is completely different: Prometheus stole divine knowledge and gifted it to humans after Zeus explicitly told him not to. And this was after Prometheus cheated all the gods out of a huge portion of wealth by having humans keep the best part of a sacrifice's meat while the gods must delight themselves with bones, fat and skin. Yes, Zeus gave Persephone away to Hades without consulting Demeter but what king consults a woman who is not his wife about the arrangement of his daughter's marriage to another king? Yes, Zeus breaks the marriage vows he set with Hera despite his love of her but what is the Master of Fate if not its staunchest slave?
The nuance is there. Even in his most bizarre actions, the nuance and logic and reason is there. The Ancient Greeks weren't a daft people, they worshipped Zeus as their primary god for a reason and they did not associate him with half the vices modern audiences take issue with. Zeus was a father, a visitor, a protector, a fair judge of character, a guide for the lost, the arbiter of revenge for those that had been wronged, a pillar of strength for those who needed it and a shield to protect those who made their home among the biting snakes. His children were reflections of him, extensions of his will who acted both as his mercy and as his retribution, his brothers and sisters deferred to him because he was wise as well as powerful. Zeus didn't become king by accident and it is a damn shame he does not get more respect.
#that one post that goes like#“the greeks gods are not good or evil they are a representation of nature and society. except Zeus. fuck that guy”#<– did irreversible damage#Zeus being the big bad guy was also my last straw for ToA 🙃#like sorry i don't fw that#that's his special boy right there whom he loves and cherishes#Hades 2 and Record of Ragnarok actually so based for making Zeus love and boast about Apollo#Zeus#ALSO SAME BRAINCELL MOMENT WRT TO JASON AND ACHILLES#I love Jason#my special little loser#they can never make me hate him idc idc
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Revenge Sweeter Than Honey
Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x MILF!Reader
Word Count: 9.2k
Summary: When Bucky’s professor unfairly grades his college assignment, ruining his perfect GPA, he finds a way to get revenge — And doesn’t his sweet little wife look delicious?
Warnings: Bucky POV, revenge plot, age gap, older!reader, flirting, cheating, kissing, smut, mommy kink, nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), ass play, spanking, p in v sex, recording of sex, cum play.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Dividers by @saradika. Hi, lovelies! It’s been a while 🤍 This is by far not my best work, but I started it at the beginning of the year and finally finished it and decided to let it go before I convince myself not to post it.
Also, I have little to no knowledge about the education system outside of the UK, since I’m British. So please excuse any facts I may have gotten wrong, this was purely for the smut 😅
The arms of the leather chair Bucky was sitting on creaked, straining under the tense grip of his fingers. Fury coursed through every muscle of his body, boiling his blood until he was sure steam was blowing out of his ears.
He had been sitting in his professor’s office for thirty whole minutes and not once had the man had the decency to look him in the eye and tell him a good enough reason for the C- marked on his most recent assignment. Thinking about it, he wasn’t even sure if his professor had ever made eye contact with him before; certain that he wouldn’t be able to recognise him if he ever looked at him.
Bucky was a straight A student, working towards the perfect GPA to graduate with full honors and claim the job of his dreams. And yet, the second since his professor had licked his finger and slapped the stack of papers — stained with a ring of coffee that wasn’t there when he handed it in — on Bucky’s desk, his whole world had been turned upside down.
He remembered his frenzy, the whirlwind of erratically flicking through each page and trying to find a single comment or suggestion that could help explain the low grade. But there was nothing. Only a forbidden red-inked C- that had taunted him ever since.
Immediately, Bucky had booked an office session, since his professor was strict on the rules of when and where to discuss anything other than current class material. There must have been a mistake he reasoned with himself in the beginning — maybe a mix up with another student or maybe his professor had missed a chunk of his work because surely that godforsaken C- wasn’t right.
However, Bucky soon came to realise in the thirty long minutes of his office session, that it wasn’t a mistake. In fact, it was the most generous grade received of the whole class.
“Sir.” He attempted once again to get through to his professor. “With all due respect, I worked extremely hard on his assignment. Every variable is valid, I ran through each test multiple times to gain an accurate representation. My method has been executed perfectly.” He swallowed the dryness in his throat. “I can’t understand why I’ve been graded so low.”
Dr Parker couldn’t have seemed less interested if he tried, the keys of his computer clicking away aimlessly as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. “For the last time, if you don’t understand what is wrong with your assignment, then I can’t help you.”
Bucky discreetly gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. The logic his professor spewed made absolutely no sense. He took a calming breath before he responded. “I’m not sure I can understand what exactly is wrong with my work if there’s no feedback to go off, Sir.”
Dr Parker sighed, seemingly fed up with the conversation. “It's not for me to serve you on a silver platter. If you want a mentor who gives you a free ride or has to hold your hand through a grade then it seems like college isn’t the place for you, James.”
The material of the chair almost ripped where Bucky’s nails began to furiously dig in. He never wanted a hand to hold or a free ride during his time in college; the bare minimum he expected was to at least have some kind of evaluation or support that offered more than a lousy grade that wasn’t fair.
Out of options, he desperately pleaded with his professor once again. “Sir, all I’m asking for is a reason for my grade being low. My GPA has been perfect all year and this assignment has made it take a huge hit. Please understand.”
Still, Dr Parker continued uselessly typing away without looking at him. “There’s nothing I can do for you, Mr Barnes.”
Bucky’s words came out jumbled as he jumped to offer an alternative. “What about— What if I did something for extra credit! You know? Just for— to boost my GPA back up?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Bucky was at the end of his tether and his throat began to tighten. “Please, Sir—I need—“
“What you need to do is move on from this assignment and work harder on the next one.” Dr Parker interrupted him coldly as he suddenly stood, packing his papers into his satchel. “My office hours are over and I have somewhere to be, so if you wouldn’t mind shutting the door behind you when you leave that would be great. Goodbye.” With that, his professor walked around the desk and out of the door without a second glance.
Tears sprung to Bucky’s eyes while he sat there, staring mindlessly at the now empty chair behind the desk in front of him. He forced the lump building in his chest down, never having felt so defeated in his life. Throughout his years of education, he had sacrificed, placed everything that wasn’t important on the back burner; holidays, parties, normal friendships, just to put his future career first and for what? For one complete asshole to decide he didn’t care enough about his job or students to fuck him over?
He shot out of his seat and paced over the carpeted floor. All of his dedication to his studies had been pointless — the thought burned through his mind and wounded him. All his life he had worked hard and this is how he had been repaid. The soles of his shoes thudded heavily until he came to a stop, running his hands down his face in despair.
When Bucky opened his eyes, he blinked until his blurred vision became clear, finding himself in front of the floor to ceiling bookcase that panned over the length of the full wall. Sighing at a complete loss on what to do, his eye flitted over the polished ornaments in front of him.
As he trailed over the neatly placed trophies and certificates, a scoff left his mouth — bitter and venomous. Every one of the awarded achievements built his resentment even more. The pretentiousness was aggravating.
He was about to walk away, go for a stroll with some fresh air to try and cool himself down and think properly. But just as he was going to leave, his eagle eye caught a small wooden picture frame shoved to the very back corner of the shelf, hardly noticeable with everything else taking front and center and ultimately hiding it.
Bucky glanced over his shoulder, making sure his professor had really left before stepping forward. His nosiness had gotten the better of him and now his interest was peaked. Careful not to knock over any ornaments, he plucked out the frame and blew off the dust that had accumulated over the picture for god knows how long.
To his surprise, it was a photograph of Dr Parker, many years younger and dressed in a tuxedo. Next to him, a stunning woman with the biggest smile on her face, dressed in an ivory, white dress.
Bucky’s eyes flew wide open while his jaw unhinged in shock.
Dr Parker had a wife?
Now that he thought about it, his professor did wear a gold band around his finger; one that the sun caught during a lecture one time and blinded Bucky enough to choke while he was drinking his coffee.
Studying the photo some more, Bucky only focused on the woman, one with kind eyes, pretty lips and a body to kill for; silhouetted in a gown that complimented her figure amazingly. He was utterly blown away.
The picture was at least ten years old, he summarised. His professor looked way younger than he did now, with frown lines and dark circles underneath his eyes. But he couldn’t get over how beautiful his wife was and how the hell he had managed to snag her with his douchebag personality. His mind ran a million miles per hour.
For all Bucky knew, you could have been just like your husband; just as dull and just as unbearable. It was only rational, because no one in their right mind would willingly be with a man like that.
He stared at you through the glass and tilted his head in thought, until the cogs started to turn. What if? he asked himself. What if he got his comeuppance somehow?
As soon as the thought presented itself, he batted it away, shaking his head and placing the photo frame back in its place.
But as he stood the frame upon the shelf, his hand stayed with it, unable to let go of the nagging idea that had now taken root in his mind.
What if you were his perfect route for revenge?
Looking out towards the window of the office, the setting sun beamed in. Bucky followed the streams of light that shined through, one landing on another photograph, larger in size of a chocolate haired boy with bright eyes. While he resembled Dr Parker, the boy’s eyes were all yours, kind and filled with light. The kid looked around the same age as himself, in a lab coat that had the same emblem as Bucky’s college.
A plan began to quickly form in his mind, each piece and detail intricately connected together to create the most beautiful retribution. The biggest fuck you to his professor for screwing him over.
Bucky sheathed his hands into his front pockets, running his tongue over his teeth with the most evil grin on his face. Dr Parker was going to get what he rightfully deserved.
Vengeance.
Having met up after their last classes of the day, Bucky followed Peter into his home when he opened the door, the droolworthy aroma of a home cooked meal slinking into his senses and making his stomach grumble.
It was now routine for him to come round to the Parker residence every week on a Friday afternoon. Once you found out your son had a new friend at college, you had extended the invitation to Bucky as Peter had recited. And of course, it would be rude of him to refuse.
The execution of his plan had come together seamlessly, almost too perfectly. It was just his luck that a clumsy Peter Parker happened to bump into Bucky on campus in a rush to his next class, spilling his coffee onto the ground and offering to buy him a new one.
Since then, he had made it his mission to become closer to Peter and soon enough, it was the night of his first dinner with you.
Before that first meeting, he had drilled it into his head that his scheme of revenge was strictly business; to get in and out and call it a day. But that went down the drain when he rounded the corner to the kitchen to introduce himself and he choked on his words when you spun around on your heels.
Bucky still remembered that moment, the first time he laid eyes on you in the cutest sundress, decorated with daisies that hugged your waist sinfully. The way your tits practically spilled out the damn thing stuck with him too.
You were a vision, a sight for sore eyes — the photograph in his professor’s office did not do you justice even with ten years added on. Then, as soon as you bounced over to him and pulled him into a hug that made his dick hard, his initial intentions went out the window. He was a goner and he knew one time wouldn’t be enough of you.
However, when it came down to dinner, Bucky was admittedly nervous. It wasn’t only just meeting you in the flesh and having his expectations blown out of the water that threw him off balance, the inevitable of seeing his professor outside of college worried him. His plan for revenge could have fallen through as soon as he met him. They almost did. If that would have been the case, Bucky wasn’t sure what his next steps would be.
But when he sat down at the dining table, his professor had only just noticed another guest in his home. Bucky remembered the slight sweat of his palms, the dryness of his throat as your husband looked at him over his newspaper and cocked his head; a familiarity brewing between them. Those couple of seconds lasted longer than he cared for. Then, unexpectedly, Dr Parker brushed him off and went straight back to reading his paper — evidently deeming Bucky unrecognisable and only a new friend of his son’s.
That memory still offended him slightly. There wasn’t a hint of recognition, even though he had fucked Bucky’s chances of attaining his dream career.
Snapping out of his memory, Bucky quickly shook his jacket off, taking care to hang it neatly on the coat rack and made a beeline to the kitchen.
“Dude. I know you like my mom’s cooking but damn.” Peter shook his head with laughter but Bucky ignored him in favour of something of much higher importance.
Stepping into the kitchen, he immediately found you balancing on your tiptoes, trying to reach the spice rack on the highest shelf. The skirt of your dress inched up your thighs and he couldn’t help but stare unabashedly at a sneak peak of your white g-string.
Clearing his throat, Bucky held out his arms wide and acted casual with a wide smile. “Where’s my favourite girl?”
His heart jumped as you snapped your head around, grinning wide once you saw who it was. “Bucky!” you cheerfully sang. “Hi, sweetie. I’m so happy you made it.”
You have no idea how happy I am to see you too, he groaned internally. “What do you take me for? Like I would ever miss your cookin’, Mrs Parker,” he teased aloud.
Raising an eyebrow playfully, you cocked your hip and crossed your arms over each other. “What have I told you about that, hm? Call me Honey, sweetheart. All my friends do.”
Bucky held his arms up to placate you. “Forgive me. Your food is too damn good to pass up, Honey.”
You rolled your eyes lightheartedly and turned back around to try and pluck the thyme from the top shelf. “You and that charm, boy. You’re gonna be the death of some poor college girl one day.”
Noticing your struggle, Bucky took the opportunity to come up behind you and reach over your head. His lips perfectly aligned with your ear and so with a sly hand to your waist, he grabbed the jar of herbs and placed them onto the counter in front of you while he whispered, “What if I’m not into college girls?”
Bucky heard the sharp inhale you tried so hard to smother, but it was useless with the proximity between you. It was instinct to then squeeze your hip, listening for your sweet whimper he lived to be the cause of.
The moment lasted only a couple seconds longer until Peter called out for you from the hallway. “Hi, Mom. We’re home if you hadn’t already noticed.”
Breaking away from Bucky sharply, you held a shaky hand to your chest. “H-Hey P, how was your week?”
Small incidents as such repeated themselves every week. You and Bucky would find yourselves — or he would create them — in intimate, dangerous positions that wouldn’t be explainable to your son or your husband should they ever catch you.
Which only made the game all the more exciting for him.
“Mom,” Peter whined while he walked into the kitchen. “Can you please not call me that when I have friends around?”
Bucky held his laughter behind his hand when you passed your son by, pinching his cheek and putting on a baby voice. “Oh, but you’re just so cute!”
However, that smile was soon wiped away from his face when the front door opened, immediately slamming shut with a loud bang. “I’m home, Honey,” your husband yelled.
Your name on another man’s lips left a sour taste in Bucky’s mouth. He had come to learn that your nickname was born from your old college roommate who had affectionately bestowed it upon you after your love of baking dessert treats.
The story was adorable, one he had soaked in with all the details you offered him. But your husband and his boring, monotonous tone turned even the sweetest name into something unpleasant.
With his keen eye, Bucky had spotted the fake smile you plastered on your face to greet your husband, even when he walked straight past you without a hug or a kiss and into his usual chair at the dining table.
“Glad your home safe, love,” you quickly offered him a half assed hello and headed back towards the kitchen to grab the meat out of the oven.
“Hey.” Bucky shot forward before you could grab the handle and slid the oven mitts laying on the counter onto his hands. “I got this, don’t worry about it.”
You paused to look at him like he had grown another head. “Bucky, I've done this a million times. I’m perfectly capable.”
“I know you are, beautiful.” He didn’t miss the way your lips parted from his compliment, reserved for your moments alone. “Doesn’t mean you should have to. Lemme do it, please.”
It didn’t take much for you to relent, already flustered enough to give in to him. Stepping aside, you made room for Bucky to take the dish out of the oven and place it on the worktop.
“Smells fuckin’ delicious, Honey.” You gently swatted his arm for his colourful language, but he couldn’t help test the waters as he stared directly into your eyes. “Hopefully tastes as good as she looks.”
What he didn’t expect was for you to retort back with a quick wit. “Oh, don’t worry about that. She’s as juicy as they get.”
These interactions were just considered harmless flirting to you. Bucky knew you had no idea that he went home and fucked his fist, replaying these exact moments in his head. He licked his lips with a groan. “I bet she is.”
“Where the hell is this damn food, woman? I’m eating away here!” your husband barked from the dining table.
Bucky gritted his teeth while he watched you bow your head in embarrassment. “Just plating up now. It won’t be much longer, dear!”
Turning back to Bucky, you smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that, he gets a little grumpy when he’s hungry.”
He couldn’t believe you were apologising for that son of a bitch, though this was a regular occurrence by now; excusing your husband’s wrongdoings even if you were ashamed of it.
Placing his hand over yours, Bucky told you firmly, “Don’t think for one second that you have to apologise to me, Honey.” The next words he grumbled under his breath. “Especially never on behalf of that fucker.”
Your free hand smoothed over the skirt of your dress, a nervous habit of yours when you were upset.
Bucky recognised your unease and took initiative to derail the conversation. “What do you need me to take?” he asked while rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.
You looked at him then, quick to protest and shake your head. “No, sweetheart. You’ve done enough, honestly. Go sit down and—”
“Honey.” Bucky held your hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll help you. I’m all yours.”
Sighing defeatedly, you nodded your head to the foil covered dishes on top of the counter. “The vegetables and mashed potatoes could do with taking to the table.”
Bucky grinned wide, all teeth and brought your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it. “Good girl.”
A shudder ran down your spine that he didn’t miss, the hitch of your breath that blew the front strands of his hair giving you away. With a wink, he backed away to grab the dishes, piling them in his arms, along with a couple extra to take to the dining table.
Soon enough, a full roast dinner was set out, steaming hot and ready to be eaten.
Peter was already sitting on the chair by his Dad’s side, speaking animatedly about his recent discoveries on his science assignment for class. You always sat opposite your husband, which meant the only free seat that Bucky could take was opposite Peter and next to you.
Not that he was complaining.
He steadily pulled the chair out and sat down. It wasn’t exactly a coincidence that he brushed against you, not when he shuffled his chair as close as possible to you without raising suspicion. “Everything looks incredible,” he whispered as he leaned into you.
The grip you had on your cutlery faltered. Bucky reveled in your bashfulness, always competing with himself to see how much he could make you squirm. So he smirked when you gulped, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “T-Thank you, Bucky.”
Your son‘s voice brought you out of your flustered state “—So I was right, Dad! My results actually confirmed my hypothesis.”
You cleared your throat and chimed in cheerfully when your husband only answered with an uninterested hum. “That’s amazing news, P!” With a stern tone, you addressed your husband this time. “Aren’t you proud of him, love?”
But instead of congratulating him, your husband turned the page of his newspaper while shoveling food into his mouth. “Mhm. He did good, I guess.”
Luckily, Peter didn’t notice or bat an eye to his father. Bucky had witnessed over the few weeks he had been invited over for dinner that your son had enough support from you alone to keep his spirits uplifted.
You decided not to bite and move on with the conversation, mouth open about to speak when your husband suddenly laid his newspaper down and spoke over you. “You know, I’ve had the worst week at work.”
Frustrated, your fingers clenched tightly around your knife. “Oh yeah?”
Dr Parker blew out an irritating sigh. “The students this week—god—I had a flock of them at my door, complaining about their grades being too low.”
Bucky felt the blood in his veins begin to boil. Normally he would tune out the grating voice of your husband, but he couldn’t help but listen to something that directly involved him — unknowingly to his professor.
“I mean, I can’t help that their work isn’t up to par. What do they want me to do? Mollycoddle them?” he scoffed. “If they come crying to me for help all the time then they may as well cut their losses and drop out. They’re only wasting their own money.”
The loud clink of your cutlery dropping against the plate cut through the tense atmosphere. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dad,” Peter cringed, obviously uncomfortable. “You can’t say that.”
“I’m not saying anything that’s not true.” Dr Parker shrugged.
“It is your job to guide your students—who are paying thousands for their education by the way—and give them feedback to help them improve,” you shot back, heatedly.
Bucky’s chest puffed out in pride. Though he couldn’t outwardly say anything, he was proud of you for inadvertently defending him — even if you didn’t know it.
Your husband’s tone turned biting towards you, however. “I’m not their babysitter, Honey.”
But you stood your ground. “No you’re not. You’re their teacher and they look to you for guidance. It's the bare minimum your job requires.”
A weighted silence fell over the dinner table while you and your husband glared at each other until the chime of a text cut through the awkwardness.
Dr Parker retrieved his phone from his pocket and read his message. After a couple of seconds, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and threw it onto his plate. “I’ve got to go back into the office. Emergency.”
“What?” you asked in disbelief. “But you’ve only just come home.”
“Well, unlike some, I can’t just slack off at home all day.”
Bucky watched out of the corner of his eye as your mouth dropped open in shock at your husband’s barely hidden jab. Unrestrained anger filled his veins as he had to hold back. Though the urge to fly over the table at Dr Parker was hanging on by a thread.
Is this what life was like at home for you? A husband who so obviously didn’t care for you while you made his life as comfortable as possible. And Peter, a son who held his tongue while he stiffly carried on eating his dinner and not defending his own mother?
Bucky looked to you as you quickly regathered yourself, blinking away the tears building over your waterline and pretending like you weren’t hurt.
Your husband passed over his harmful statement as nonchalantly as he said it while lifting out of his seat. “Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be home late.”
And just as rudely as he came home, he walked out, the slam of the door reverberating through the house.
It wasn’t a minute after that when Peter also received a text. After reading the message, his eyes lit up with excitement. Bucky knew well enough what that face meant — Peter was getting lucky. “Hey mom, is it okay if I go out? Hang with my friends for the night?”
The dinner you laboured over had already gone out the window once your husband had ruined it. Of course it didn’t bother you as much that your son wanted to leave too. “Of course, sweetie.” You stood up and collected the half empty plates from the table robotically. “Just be careful and let me know when you’re there.”
With a dejected sigh that only Bucky noticed, you gathered the rest of the cutlery and took them to the kitchen, beginning to fill the sink to wash up.
Peter waited until you were out of ear shot to whisper, “Dude, MJ asked me to come round tonight. I think she finally wants it!” Bucky held back a cringe. “You think it’s cool if I shoot off? You can make your own way home, right?”
Bucky couldn’t have given a single fuck where Peter went or what he did right now. All he cared about, as he shot discreet glances of you in the kitchen washing the plates, was your wellbeing. “Sure, Parker. I can figure it out.”
“Awesome!” Peter laughed before whipping out of his seat and running towards the door. “Catch you Monday, pal!”
The house grew silent apart from the departing slam of the door, this time by your son. As soon as Peter was gone, Bucky instantly left his seat to join you.
He leaned his shoulder against the archway of the kitchen. “You okay, Honey?”
Looking towards him in surprise, your eyes held onto a last tendril of hope that someone hadn’t let you be alone. “Sweetheart, I thought you would have left with P.”
Bucky shook his head with a fond smile, the curls at the top of his head bouncing with the movement. “Of course not. I’ve got nothing better to do with my Friday night than spend time with a gorgeous woman.”
He caught the tightening of your lips, as though you were holding back your flustered smile. “Oh, stop that. You flatter me.”
“I can’t help it. You make a man go weak. What can I say?”
“Are you flirting with me?” you laughed incredulously.
“And what if I was?” Bucky noticed the way your eyes latched onto the sight of his shirt, tightening over his arms as he crossed them over each other. “Would you like it?”
Your eyes flicked up to his, holding his intense gaze for a few seconds before you huffed a breath and began cleaning the dishes again. “You’re cute, Bucky.”
Bucky licked his lips and ravaged your form silhouetted in your fitted dress. “Wouldn’t exactly be the word I would use, but I’ll take it from you.”
A rare giggle, only let out in his presence, escaped you. “Scram would you? You don’t want to be spending your Friday night with your friend’s mom, sweetie.”
Testing the waters, Bucky let slip exactly what was on his mind. “Actually, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Your hand stilled, chest rising and falling at a faster pace than before. “Oh, if only I was twenty years younger,” you chuckled quietly to yourself, not expecting for Bucky to overhear.
Jackpot, he smirked to himself.
Walking to the kitchen island, Bucky leaned his elbow on the counter beside you. “What would you do, Mrs Parker?”
You jumped with a yelp, visibly surprised to have received a response so close; eyes blown wide as they flitted over Bucky’s face in panic. “E-Excuse me?”
Bucky closed the distance between you even further. He leaned over the sink to turn the running water off. “I said,” he whispered huskily, keeping consistent eye contact with you. “What would you do if you were twenty years younger?”
“I—I um,” your breathing started to become heavy while Bucky stared shamelessly at you. “It’s just an expression, sweetie,” you laughed, shaking your head to try and brush the comment off. “I d-didn’t mean it like that—“
“No?” He watched carefully as your eyes darted around, trying so hard not to look at him. “How did you mean it then?”
The spotlight Bucky was intentionally putting on you made you falter, even more so when he tucked your hair behind your ear and let his hand linger over your collarbone.
“C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.” A sadistic smirk adorned his face while you stared at his lips. “Unless you want me to, of course.”
“I s-swear, Bucky.” Your voice was breathless with the heat of his stare. “There was nothing behind it, I—”
“I don’t believe you.” Bucky backed you against the sink, trapping you with his arms on each side of your waist. “I think,” he rasped, teasingly trailing his fingers up the bare skin of your arms. “That you would let me bend you over this counter right here and fuck you senseless.”
The wind was audibly knocked from your lungs as you gasped. Words failed you, stuttering over yourself which was most amusing to Bucky.
Nonetheless, your eyes still followed him with a glaze, hooked onto every word that left his lips. “I think you’d let me take you from behind. Stuff your pretty pussy full with my fat cock.” He grabbed your hand and pressed it against the bulge in his trousers. “You feel that, huh? How good it would feel to take all a’me, pretty mama?”
Bucky watched as your eyes fluttered and you bit your lip — the last of your reserve hanging by a thread. One more deadly blow to your empty head and you would be putty in his hands.
Any remaining distance between you disappeared as he placed wet kisses from the pulse of your neck up to the corner of your mouth. “I think—” he whispered against your lips, his next words uttered in his most seductive voice. “I think you’d let me do it. Right. Fuckin’. Now.”
You placed your hands over the shirt on his chest to push him away; a mistake he imagined as you alternatively began bundling the material up with clenched fists. “Bucky—“ you painfully uttered with your eyes squeezed shut. You shook your head, as though that would help you. “This—this isn’t right. You’re my son’s friend and I n-need you to leave—“
“Look at me.” Bucky slid his hands over your neck, holding your jaw with his thumbs to tilt your head up. Slowly, your eyes squinted open and he saw the confliction clear as day in your glossy eyes, the battle you were facing in your mind. “You’re practically melting in my hands, Honey. You just gotta give in. We’ve been playin’ this game for far too long now, don’t you think?”
There was no escaping his blue eyes when you tried to look away once again and he firmly guided your gaze back to him. “None of that, now. Do as I say.”
Your expression was tortured — torn between right and wrong, pleasure and sin. Bucky knew you were good, a dutiful housewife and loyal to a fault to a man who didn’t deserve it.
Where had that gotten you? Whilst the revenge plan was hot on his mind — the very reason he had meticulously planned everything up to this exact moment — he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth that he was getting something extra out of this. You.
“We shouldn’t do this,” you pleaded painfully, still with a wild spark in your eye. “We can’t do this.”
“You know what I’m not hearing, Honey?” Bucky asked. “I’m not hearing that you don’t want to do it.”
You shook your head frantically with wide eyes until he tightened his grip on your cheeks. “I’m gonna give you one chance to answer me.” He squeezed your cheeks until your lips puckered. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”
Desire rolled through your eyes as your thighs clenched together. Though you still tried to deny your need for him. “Bucky—”
“Ah, ah. I want an answer.”
Bucky watched as your throat bobbed. Your nostrils flared with your harsh breaths and your breasts heaved up and down with exerted force. Seconds went by, the two of you staring at each other before you finally answered. “Yes.”
The two of you burst into the master bedroom — the one you shared with your husband, kissing erratically while your hands fumbled through Bucky’s hair.
He moaned deeply, pushing you against the wall, and turning feral over the feel of you as he kneaded your body. “You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he hummed against your lips.
Your head thumped back against the wall, chest heaving while you tried to catch your breath. All of Bucky’s attention was drawn to your chest. “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got the most perfect tits?”
Choking on your spit, you stumbled over your words, so adorably oblivious to your own attraction. “I—I didn’t realise—um, t—thank you—”
Bucky laughed, shaking his head before quickly ripping down your dress to your waist with force. Your upper body was bare, free for him to roam his rabid eyes over your naked tits.
“Bucky!” Your squeal of shock was followed by you hastily trying to cover your chest with your hands.
But a scowling Bucky immediately ripped them away; offended you would dare try to keep them from him. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ cover yourself up, Honey.”
He could tell it was intense for you, to be so thoroughly desired and the thought that you had never received this much attention before made him angry once again.
“It’s been a while,” you mumbled. The mousy confession only heightened Bucky’s fury towards your pathetic husband.
Delicately, he kissed you and began to trail his lips down the slope of your neck. “Ain’t gotta worry about that. I’ll take care of you.”
Slowly descending, Bucky laved his tongue over your peaked nipple, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop. Your breast bounced with the motion and he squeezed his dick over his trousers with a groan. “Look at you, Honey. You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”
Bucky’s tunnel vision made whatever you said next pointless. Grabbing your tits, he buried his head in between them, relishing in your softness. He peppered his kisses across to your other nipple and swirled his tongue around the peak.
Your legs crumbled, the sensation overwhelming for you. The thought that Bucky could get you off by just playing with your tits made his cock even harder. But he had so much more in store for you.
“Why don’t you take off your dress, baby?” he murmured into your skin. “Want you to kneel on the bed for me, alright?”
You nodded shakily. Bucky hovered over your breasts a couple of seconds more, savouring the feel of you before stepping backwards to give you space to move.
With a deep breath, you walked on unsteady legs towards your bed, letting your dress shimmy down your body on your way. Your back was turned to Bucky and he salaciously eyed your figure, each and every curve of your body. He internally created a map of your stretch marks and imperfections that only made him more crazed for you.
The mattress sank down while you knelt onto it carefully. Bucky watched the arch of your back intently, the flesh of your ass rounding out from your position.
Forget the damn reason he plotted this very moment, he was just excited to finally get a taste of you.
Your quiet murmur sounded over Bucky’s thoughts. “I’m ready.”
Biting his lip, he strolled forward until he came to a stop behind you. Still fully clothed, Bucky desperately singed the picture in front of him into his mind. He held so much power in that moment, and it felt like a dream that he had you bent over solely for him.
Bucky leaned over your form, beginning to place delicate kisses down your back. He basked in the goosebumps that arose on your skin. “How the fuck are you real?” he murmured to himself.
With a shaky sigh, you whispered, “I still don’t know about this.”
Chuckling, Bucky finally dropped down to his knees, ignoring your reluctance to eye the flimsy piece of material covering your pussy. Hooking a finger inside your underwear, he peeled it away and held it to the side. “Oh, fuck me.”
You squirmed in place as the cold air hit you in your most vulnerable state. Your raw scent clogged Bucky’s nose and his eyes rolled to the back of his head in bliss. “Can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Honey. Gotta know how you taste.”
Surging forward, Bucky buried himself between your thighs. You screamed in retaliation to the feel of his tongue snaking its way through your folds and he was sure he hadn’t heard a better sound.
He explored every inch of your cunt, unwilling to leave the heaven you so graciously granted him. But it was the sensation of Bucky’s tongue beginning to ease its way inside your hole that made you vocal once again.
“My husband—“ you called out, obvious to Bucky that you were trying to clear your conscience of guilt. But he knew you couldn’t care less about him — you didn’t even mention the fucker once while you were too busy feeling sorry for your son in the kitchen and making silly excuses to not let him have his way with you.
Landing a harsh smack to the top of your thigh, Bucky savored your squeal of shock. “Don’t act like you give a fuck about him now, Honey. Who’s the one eating your pussy this good, hm?” He ran two fingers down the middle of your folds, biting his lip at the wetness coating them. When your only answer was a moan muffled by your pillow, he spanked you again in the same place with more force. “Answer me.”
“You, Bucky!” you instantly shouted out. “You’re the one eating my pussy so good!”
“There we go. That wasn’t so hard was it?” He eased over the marks beginning to bloom on your skin and smiled to himself. “Call me James, though. I like it better.”
Without letting you reply, Bucky dived back in, fucking your pussy with his tongue. You reached back to hold your asscheeks open with each hand, desperate to have him go deeper into your hole. The glint from the diamond of your wedding ring caught his attention and he smirked into your cunt; the reminder that you were married only fuelled his arousal even more.
“Fuck, baby,” he spoke into your cunt. “You really are sweet, ain’t ya? Taste fuckin’ incredible.”
The filthy sounds of slurps and moans filled the room. Bucky was a starved beast, held back and pushed to the edge for too long and every little bit of anger and resentment that had built in his body from your husband’s treatment was taken out on you.
It only boosted his ego when you grinded your cunt back against him too. His cock jumped with excitement with how fucking dirty you truly were. You had been locked up too, he remembered. Stuck holding back your true self for a shitty excuse of a man.
Bucky grunted deeply before licking a wide stripe from your clit, slowly running through your pussy lips and reaching higher towards the puckered hole that twitched with anticipation.
“Oh!” you exclaimed aloud in surprise. Bucky thought he may have gone too far, then. But once you relaxed and backed yourself into his tongue, he smiled wickedly.
“You like that, filthy girl?” he laughed, darkly. “Should’ve known you’d be a little freak.”
Bucky circled the tip of his tongue teasingly around your asshole, moaning at your eagerness when you tried to reach further back with your hands and drag him closer.
“Don’t tease,” you gasped, out of breath. “Please, I want more. Gimmie more.”
Almost immediately, Bucky complied, ripping your hands away with vigor to replace them with his. He spreaded your asscheeks wide and lapped at your tight hole.
“Fuck yes—oh my god, James—yes!”
The depravity was obscene and disgusting and Bucky absolutely loved it. Never had he been more turned on and he decided then and there that this wasn’t going to be a one and done deal. He wanted you to be his.
A string of saliva connected Bucky’s mouth to your ass as he reluctantly backed away. The slick that had poured out of you smothered his chin and cheeks and Bucky happily licked his lips with a groan. “Baby, as much as I wanna keep eating your ass, I need to feel your pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock.”
You whimpered while your pussy clenched with a need to be filled. Bucky watched your cute little hole flutter. “Put it in me,” you slurred. “Need your cock.”
He wasted no time unfastening his jeans to pull them down enough until his dick bobbed out of its confines. Bucky caught you peeking your head around, trying to catch a glimpse of his cock, but he spanked your ass and bit his lip with amusement at your scream. “Not yet, baby. You’ll get a chance to see it when I fuck your throat later.”
You squirmed impatiently, needy moans escaping you and Bucky couldn’t hold back any longer. Grabbing his cock, he began to push the fat head of his length inside you.
A loud gasp tore from your throat and your pussy instantly tried to suck him in deeper. Your walls, tight and warm, hugged his dick like a vice. “You’re—oh my fucking god—how are you so big?”
The smirk that donned Bucky’s face was lethal. He had you right where he wanted you. And yet his eye rolled back all the same, savouring the flutter of your tight hole around him.
“This is all for you, baby,” he breathily whispered, bullying his way deeper into your pussy. “Get me so fuckin’ hard everytime I see you. Cookin’ in them pretty little dresses. Just wanna lift your skirt up and fuck you wherever I want.”
Your moans both fell into sync as Bucky finally slid his cock all the way to the hilt. You couldn’t stop squirming and it drove him crazy.
“You need to move,” you begged in between pants. “Please, I can’t stay still.”
Bucky licked his teeth with desire blazing through him. “Since you asked so nicely, Honey.”
Without the decency to ease you into it, Bucky instantly set a brutal pace. He looked down, admiring the thick coating of your juices lathering his dick and he willed himself not to blow his load so fast. He tightly closed his eyes, adjusted his stance and began to fuck you.
You were quick to grab ahold of whatever you could, scrambling for purchase within the sheets, but you were useless to try to stop how your head buried into the bed. The force of Bucky’s thrusts were too violent and so you surrendered to what was inevitable, letting yourself drool over the cotton.
“Bu—CKY!” your cry of surprise when he lifted his foot onto the bed, allowing him a better angle to fuck you, was music to his ears.
“What’s’a matter, baby?” Bucky mocked. “Thought you were a big girl, huh? Can’t handle me?”
Your reply was instant. “I can! I can, I promise, I promise!”
“Then shut the fuck up and take it.”
Bucky didn’t know where to look, he was spoilt for choice. To watch your eyes roll back in ecstasy? To concentrate on the shlick shlick of your soaked cunt? Ultimately, his eyes were glued to the jiggle of your ass, his hands soon following as though he was hypnotised. How it so perfectly met his hips without a falt in rhythm.
“Fuck me—this ass is heaven, baby. You been hiding it from me all this time?”
There was no answer this time, at least not a coherent one. Bucky was instead graced with your constant squeaks and groans — a woman too invested in a physical gratification she had so sadly been starved of.
Bucky chuckled. “Ain’t gotta answer, Honey. The sounds comin’ outta that mouth are keeping my dick happy enough.”
He almost forgot the end goal of his proposition in the midst of the delectable feel of your cunt. With a sudden bolt of clarification as he felt a vibration against his leg, Bucky kept one hand on your hip while he reached for his phone in his pocket with the other. Keeping up the pace of his thrusts, you were clueless as he unlocked it and opened the camera app.
“Now, Honey, I want you to really scream my name, okay? Wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel. Can you do that for me?”
“Uh-huh.” You nodded, dumbly. “C-Can do that for you, James.”
He grinned wickedly and threw his head back. “Just like that. Good fuckin’ girl.” Looking back down at you through the phone screen, he hovered his finger over the record button and brought his other hand down hard on your ass. “Go on then, baby. Put on a show for me.”
If Bucky thought you were a fucking treat before, his mind was blown once you began to take the reigns of your own pleasure. Bucky hardly had to move and you still plunged yourself onto his cock with an unmatched enthusiasm to anyone else he had fucked. He could hardly keep his hand that held the phone up from shaking. The combined sounds coming from the both of you were insane.
None of his wet dreams could compare to his reality. “You—shit—you’re killing me, Honey.”
You must not have heard him because you decided to torture him even more by arching your back just that little bit further.
Bucky thought he was a goner, soon to approach his end. But he couldn’t let that happen. He was far from done with you yet.
Propping one foot up onto the bed for better leverage, he gathered his restraint and began to drive forward once more. He felt high.
“That husband of yours ever fuck you like this, huh?” Bucky demanded. “Can he make you leak all over his dick like a fuckin’ slut?”
You violently shook your head from side to side, like the thought of your husband left a sour taste in your mouth you wanted to get rid of. “Nuh-uh,” you whimpered, popping your ass up even more to take as much as you could. “O-Only you.”
“Tell him, baby.” Bucky noticed too late that he had slipped up, too gone off the feel of your cunt wrapped snug around his dick. But you hadn’t seemed to realise his mistake either and the thought that you were too much of a wreck from his cock to comprehend who he was talking about made him even harder. “Let him know who’s balls deep in your tight, slutty pussy.”
“Oh, fuck—please, please—you, James, it’s you. Please, it’s you!”
“Atta girl,” he cooed, hoarsely. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you’re makin’ on me.”
Bucky reached down to where the two of you were connected with his free hand, sweeping the copious amount of your slick gathered in a ring around the bottom of his cock. “Here.” He leant forward, one palm up towards you with his phone still in his other hand out of your view. “Open your mouth, pretty mama.”
You slightly turned your head with your tongue sticking out wide and eagerly sucked the juices off his hand with a long moan.
Managing to get all of it on camera, Bucky watched as you licked between his fingers, not wasting a drop. “Holy fuck,” he grunted deeply. “You’ll really do anything I say, won’t you?”
You bobbed your head up and down, eventually letting his fingers go, clean as a whistle.
“What a fuckin’ filthy whore. You’re perfect for me.”
You backed yourself onto Bucky’s cock, meeting his thrusts perfectly while the meat of your ass clapped against his toned waist. “You’re a needy little thing, ain’t you baby?”
“Anythin’ you want,” you slurred. “Can be whatever you need.”
“Poor mommy hasn’t been treated this good in a long time I can tell.” Bucky gripped your ass harshly with his hand, jiggling the flesh for his own satisfaction. “Women like you, need putting in their place on a daily basis. Need a good fuckin’ to keep them happy.”
“Yes!” you agreed, firmly. “Mommy needs to be fucked like this all the time.”
Unbelievable. Bucky didn’t even have to try to add salt into the wound. He couldn’t help the continuous conspicuous messages that he could easily pass off to you. “This is what happens when you don’t take care of your wife.”
Harsh slaps echoed in your bedroom. The two of you could only share the raw sounds that left your mouths in your haze of the thrill as the string between you pulled tighter and tighter.
“I’m—so—close,” you murmured with all your depleted energy.
Bucky didn’t need the confirmation when he could feel the rapid pulses of your walls that squeezed him. He knew your orgasm was clutching at its straws and he was so close himself. The blood from his head had long since made its way to his dick and his composure was swiftly deflating.
“Want that cum,” he garbled as his mouth hung open. “I’ve been such a good boy, mommy. Give it to me, please.”
You whined loudly, like a dog in heat. But your voices became lost on each other. That didn’t stop Bucky from losing his inhibitions out loud.
Thrust. “I’ve been such,” thrust. “A good,” thrust. “Boy.”
The wound up ball of tension in your lower stomach exploded in a series of screams and violent shivering that overtook your whole nervous system and the very sensation brought Bucky to his defeat.
The muscles in his legs failed him as they turned to jelly. Bucky let out the sluttiest moan he’s ever experienced in his life and all but collapsed onto your sweat slicked body. He could feel his cock shooting a constant stream of cum into your cunt with seemingly no end in sight.
“Fuck,” he whimpered into your ear. Slowly, his conscience came back to life and the flow of his load finally came to a stop.
The two of you laid still, only the heavy panting serving to fill the silence. After a couple of minutes, Bucky kissed your shoulder blade, before lifting himself up. He gathered the strength to gently retrieve his length from your hole that still strangled him.
Bucky was reminded of the phone that was still recording in his hand and he quickly made sure to get the winning money shot of his load dripping out of your pulsing hole while he wholly detached himself from you.
He was only human to push his finger into your cunt, he thought, letting himself gather himself on his own fingers.
Flipping the camera around to himself, Bucky put his coated finger in his mouth, sucking your combined juices and humming and letting it go with a pop. He laughed, out of breath, his red cheeks and mussed hair only adding to the depravity of the video. “Y’know some people should really keep an eye on their wives. You never know what they’re up to in their spare time. Ain’t that right, Honey?”
Bucky knew you were out of it — he watched on while you buried your head in the sheets, rubbing your thighs together as aftershocks made your body twitch. Your needy, high pitched keens bounced off the walls. “Wan’ more of your cock, James—please—need you to fuck me again.”
He licked his lips in delight, the sight of your ass wiggling with his cum leaking out of you and your unprompted addition to the recording filling him with glee.
“Well,” he sighed, turning back to the camera and shrugging with no remorse. “You heard the wife. Duty calls.” With a cocky wink, he ended the recording with a final farewell. “See you in class, Professor.”
Bucky exited his camera app and quickly brought up his emails, scouring through to a saved draft and attaching the video link. After pressing send, he shut off his phone, making sure any future notifications would be silenced before throwing it to the ground with a careless thump.
“Baby,” you whimpered, looking behind you to search for him. “What are you doing? I said I wanna be fucked again.”
Undressing the rest of his clothes, Bucky stalked towards you, kneeling onto the bed and effortlessly flipping you over to kiss you deeply to share your combined tastes. “Don’t worry, mommy,” he breathed into your mouth. “I’ll take care of you now.”
Meanwhile at his college, a new email popped up on Dr Parker’s computer screen, shrouding the dark office with a white glow in the late night. With an exhausted huff, he looked up from grading papers — all of them marked with a C or lower — and squinted his eyes at the bright screen.
New Email from James Buchanan Barnes
He rolled his eyes with a sigh. The name was familiar as he thought back to the day the kid almost cried in his office, complaining about his poorly-graded assignment and his GPA; Dr Parker had gossiped with Professor Stark in his department on his dinner break, recounting the annoying way this particular student had whined like a baby. Though he couldn’t quite remember how James looked, unable to place him among the hundreds of pupils he taught.
Amused curiosity ran through him, wondering what his student had to moan about this time and so with a sadistic smirk, he clicked on the link, waiting until his message came up.
Though that smirk was quickly replaced with a frown when the email finally loaded with an attachment.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold. But I like mine warm, tight and sweet.
Just like Honey.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction
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she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.
in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.
it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.
i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.
sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.
and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.
once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?
i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.
my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."
the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.
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Mean König this, loser König that blah blah blah
How about instead König being the introvert he is with weirdly specific hobbies to match. I'm thoroughly convinced this guy has an army of miniatures (which he all HAND PAINTED, thank you very much).
How about König being frugal and reusing a lot of things or DIY'ing them himself. Things are always too expensive these days and why on earth would he buy a new one when he has one he picked up years ago that works just fine?? C'mon, he made a mask out of a t-shirt, can't convince me that's the only thing he's reused or repurposed.
He's not a gross, disgusting pervert who snorkels with the sludges of humanity in the bottom of the degenerate barrel. [Going to go on the record to say write what you want, that's your choice. But at the same time, it's my choice to say: Genuinely, what the fuck to a LOT of what I've seen in the König tag]
He's also not an UWU shy guy who cries because you took his mask off. Please, his voice lines are so cocky, he's not going to sob and cower because some jackass tried harassing him these days. He's a damn good solider, he's proud of it, he knows it and knows how to use it
Still going to call him baby girl, doesn't make him any less of one, he's just not a wimp with no backbone who crumples into a heap because someone mildly made fun of him. He breaks backs, I'm sure he's kept at least a spine of his own (at least as a souvenir)
Social anxiety doesn't always mean being ridiculously sensitive and the lack of research put into it when it comes to writing König realllllly shows. Proper representation matters and when it's reduced to being a stuttering, co-dependent mess who can barely function on their own and is just overly clinging, it's not cute - it's hurting the narrative around it and further perpetuating untrue and negative stereotypes.
Social anxiety means many different things to many different people and shows itself in so so many ways. No two people experience it or feel it the exact same way, but it's helping NO ONE when you're ignoring blatant characterization of it and how it presents for someone to change it so you can meld them into a stereotypical box
Rant over, I just love König so much (he was my initial draw to this whole fandom) and hate seeing what's done to him in some really, REALLY deplorable extremes
Going to probably write a König reader insert at some point out of spite alone at this rate
#könig cod#call of duty#cod#call of duty x reader#könig call of duty#könig x reader#konig x reader#konig cod#konig call of duty#cod modern warfare#call of duty x you#seriously wtf yall on some of these posts i see#freedom of speech and all that but it goes both ways#rant#rant post#vent post#vent#cod fanfic rant#ghouldtimetalks
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Breaking The Rules
Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot
Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink
So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:
"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"
I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.
Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️
You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.
Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.
As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.
There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.
Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.
There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.
Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.
As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.
So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.
Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.
You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.
It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.
“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”
You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”
Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.
“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”
You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”
Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”
You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”
Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”
“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”
“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”
“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.
Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.
“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.
“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”
Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.
“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.
“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”
Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”
There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”
Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”
“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”
Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.
Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.
Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.
“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”
“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.
“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.
“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”
“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”
“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.
“What is it?”
“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”
“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”
With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”
Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”
“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”
“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”
Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”
He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”
As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”
He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”
“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”
Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”
The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.
“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”
“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”
“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”
You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”
“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”
You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”
“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”
“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”
Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”
“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.
You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?
You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.
“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”
“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”
His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.
“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”
You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”
He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”
You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”
“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”
When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”
Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”
You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”
“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.
You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Maybe just one thing.”
“Sure, what do you need?”
He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”
You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”
“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”
“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”
“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”
His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”
“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”
“Why not?”
“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”
“Normally?” he cut in.
You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”
Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”
Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”
“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.
You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”
“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”
The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.
“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”
“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”
“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.
“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.
He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”
“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”
He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”
At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.
“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”
Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”
You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”
He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”
“But what?”
“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”
He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”
“As modest as always.”
“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”
“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”
“I did not know that.”
“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”
“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”
Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”
When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.
“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”
“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.
“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.
“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.
After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.
“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”
As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.
“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”
Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.
Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.
“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.
Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”
Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.
When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.
“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.
Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”
“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.
You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.
“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.
Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.
“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”
A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.
“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”
When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.
“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.
“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.
He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.
“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”
He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.
“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.
“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.
Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.
“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.
He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.
“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”
“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.
When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.
“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.
“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”
Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.
“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.
“Five?”
“What do you need, darling?”
“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”
He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”
When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.
“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.
Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.
“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.
“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.
Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”
Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.
“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”
You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.
Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.
Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.
When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.
You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”
After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.
“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.
“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”
Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”
When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.
“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”
Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”
“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”
You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”
“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”
After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.
Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.
You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.
Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.
You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.
Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.
Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.
The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.
It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.
Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.
After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.
He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.
“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.
You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”
He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”
He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.
“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”
Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”
“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”
Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.
“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.
Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.
It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.
Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.
“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”
Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”
The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”
“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”
There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”
“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.
“That is correct, yes. But—”
“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”
“Well…yes…I suppose…”
You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”
He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”
Your mouth hung open. “What?”
“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”
The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”
Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”
There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”
Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.
What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.
He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”
You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”
“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”
The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.
“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”
You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”
His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”
You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.
You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”
Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.
“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”
Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”
Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.
“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.
You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”
“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.
Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.
“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.
“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.
Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.
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I NEED TO MEET MY HUMAN PILLOW??
*pairing: bad boy producer Chan x good girl
*tags: problems of insomnia, mocking, teasing, not understanding each other, little jealousy, fluff at the end
* synopsis: Chan has been unable to sleep for more than 4 hours for almost a month and maybe he will just have to find his soul mate to overcome his insomnia…
If you like i would write a second part
* word count: 4k (Tell me if you like this kind of stories:)
—REBLOG if you enjoyed
© cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.
(English is not my native language)
Chan loved to produce music, he could be one of the most famous idols and love performing and dancing in front of thousands of people or singing vintage songs to his fans but one thing that stimulated him more and more was spending hours producing, correct verses of poems he had written while he was on the other side of the world or, start to try to feel the rhythm of melodies that were beginning to take shape in his head but also in his console and computer; that was the thing he loved most about being a singer not the events where everyone was impeccably dressed and looked like puppets. He also loved to produce because he could only do so after the exhausting dance workouts or the various recorded content they did during the week for fans, all the other members of the group went back to their dorm rooms to rest or walked around the Korean capital like normal people; instead, he was for weeks, let’s not fool ourselves, he always suffered from insomnia and did not even remember how good it was to wake up after a nice eight-hour sleep. That night was another night out in his studio composing or writing down some verses for the next album, the only company he had was that of his little dog who was snoring and making beautiful dreams, he was a little bit jealous because he too would have wanted to sleep so happily and at 4 in the morning he lay down on the sofa that he had bought for other members and began to scroll through various social notifications until his eyes were closed for a few hours.
Y/n had been working for the Stray Kids for almost a year in the social media department, loved how every week she could knock down his ideas and have even for twenty minutes of fun members recording funny challenges in the pool while they tried to record, while they were traveling to some European city for some event such as the fashion week; with her caramel macchiato and sweet pretzel she walked into the floor where most of the employees had a small recreation room with a small kitchen and tables, but a light coming from the studio where they were recording songs made her turn back. Y/n was a curious person and sometimes he did not want to have all this curiosity. Still, without thinking about it he knocked slowly at the door and after a minute without an answer, he came in. She saw the leader of Stray Kids lying on his belly with slightly ruffled hair and wearing a baseball hat sleeping peacefully with his dog next to him who had already seen the foreign presence of Y/n and ran down to lick them a shoe. Chan was really the representation of the dream boy of Y/n but after a year they had very few interactions together and those few they had were embarrassing, only Felix knew of the small crush she had on Y/n for Chan, but Chan behaved as if it did not exist or perhaps he had never liked because he always wore something pink, always had in his hand one of those coffees all processed even worse that drink green color called matcha, or sometimes brought them homemade cookies to cheer and give a little sweetness to the guys after hours of training and this thing always made him raise his eyes because not even a year later all hung from the lips of Y/ n and did not understand why. It was almost 8:30 and all the other members were coming to work Y/n thought it wasn’t so nice to find all the other members making fun of Chan because he was sleeping in a super sweet position. Still, his face was squashed in the pillow and those beatings of his "children" would have played a few tricks on him, so Y/n slowly spiked with his little hand hidden in the sweatshirt in Chan’s side but did not move an inch, had never touched him by a centimeter and was seriously nervous in the pottery touch so for a moment she set aside her shyness for the leader and slightly pulled him off, heard a small sound coming from his mouth and the arm that he had dangling in the armrest of the sofa put it into the Y/n sweatshirt and his heart began to pump slightly more than necessary. He hated the effect it had on her and hated how everyone got along instead she was to his eyes like a ghost, Y/n put his slightly cold hand in Chan’s face and looked at him for a second before talking to him "Christopher Bang Chan get up there are paparazzi at the door taking pictures of you!" raised his voice slightly to wake him, Everyone knew of Chan’s fear of the paparazzi but he seemed to be seriously in his dream world so he took his pretzel and put it under his nose as if it were an animal and pulled his hair out of his hat and gave him a slight slap in the face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and after a few seconds he saw two hazel eyes looking at her evil and immediately moved away from his grip and dropped his sweet pretzel in Chan’s chest.
Of all the people who could find him in that state, the girl who smelled of cotton candy and spring flowers had to wake him up! “Do you know that it is strictly forbidden to enter my studio, especially for a person who has nothing to do with music?" He got up slightly from the couch and began to sit as if it were a feline and saw for a second the eye of Y/n linger in the black underwear of the Supreme, knew the effect he had on girls but a sweet smile formed on his lips because even the sweet and shy Y/n had a soft spot for him, but he immediately turned away and went to his Cafe, It was obviously not a normal coffee but had cream on top and little bits of sugar, Chan tore his eyes, how could you drink something like that to wake up if they had invented the existence of a nice steaming cup of coffee without sugar to wake up.
"Uhm sorry, i didn’t want to invade your privacy but i saw a flake light coming from your studio and i had thought that someone had forgotten it on or i was afraid that you were.." You didn’t even finish the sentence because with a snap he gave you the sign to be quiet and nonchalance got up and started drinking from your straw your caramel macchiato and ate even a piece of your pretzel. “Or maybe you were just curious and wanted to pry and invade my privacy" Rolled your eyes and looked at Chan "I didn’t want to invade your privacy i would never, i was saying that, i was afraid something happened to you or maybe you left the light on for that i entered, i even knocked for almost a minute but no one answered me" you had never had such a long conversation with the leader of the group and in your head, you did not want to seem cynical towards him but he had seriously misread you. "They never told you that it’s bad manners to roll your eyes in front of a person, god how do you drink this thing at 8 o'clock in the morning to wake up is definitely disgusting. Well now you see I’m fine so you could leave i don’t need a little girl to take care of me!" was literally finishing that concoction of sugars and saw Y/n to caress his dog. “I know it’s rude to roll your eyes in front of someone but it’s not my fault if when you wake up you’re slightly bad mood, there are personal rooms with a bed because people need to feel comfortable and sleep, It is not healthy for your body and mind to sleep at work and especially in a sofa that is also small for your physique, if you have problems with sleep there are a lot of purely natural remedies. God, how does this little dog worship you if you’re like that?" Chan looked at you very badly and he laughed slightly "In addition to not tolerating your presence, are you psychoanalyzing me? What do you know about my insomnia problems Y/n, It’s not your business and i repeat, I have no need to listen to the advice of a young girl at her first steps into the world of adults so go away and thank you for this breakfast 5 stars Michelin i will never try again in my life to drink something with so many sugars" You felt the door open and Felix with his angelic hair entered the room laughing "Don’t tell me you spent the night here again inside Chan, you have to seriously find some remedy for your insomnia because you behave like a jerk with everyone, Even with Y/n that is the sweetest girl on this planet" The two guys looked at you, one was smiling instead of the other would have never met you. “Let me be Felix didn’t start the day well and I have to do not know how many things with you, and the less time i’m away from sweet things the better!" A small puff came out of your mouth and you greeted Felix before heading into the recreation room where everyone seemed happy and relaxed.
Chan without even realizing it was chewing and sipping little sips of your caramel macchiato and Changbin was literally open-mouthed, his leader had not had a drink with so much sugar in his life and drank those drinks only Y/n. "Why are you drinking a caramel macchiato with double cream and double caramel? Don’t tell me you’ve overcome your insomnia thanks to some sugars?" Chan looked at Changbin first and then in his hand, the glass of Y/n's half-finished drink had drunk it all himself without anyone’s help. " You know i don’t like to waste food so for once even if this thing is literally disgusting i’ve bought it" The group members nodded but were extremely worried about their leader because it was almost a month that he had not slept peacefully for more than 4 hours and had tried everything, from herbal teas, some members have even tried to sleep with him but with little result, natural herbal infusions, medicines, they had even taken him to make especially relaxing massages to see him fall asleep and relax but none of these things made them see their leader relaxed and sleep for even 6 hours."You know i saw a series where a guy could get sleep when he was with his lover maybe it’s happening to you too, maybe your soul mate is close to you and fate is trying to give you some signals to try sleeping with her and relax. I read on the internet that many couples can only fall asleep when they are together maybe you are also doing something like this!" Chan had seriously the balls to listen to his members at that time. "Sure Han, you see somewhere my soul mate with whom i can share my beauty sleep. I thought i had raised normal human beings, not dreamers who believe in fairy tales of fate". A light knock removed the problems of Chan’s insomnia and Y/n came in with a bag of gingerbread-shaped cookies all colored, Chan at that moment would have wanted to have a thousand paparazzi in front of him instead of the young content creator of the Stray Kids with her perfume of cotton candy and flowers, "We have to go record some content in the terrace but before i brought you some cookies, i know that many of you love them so..." Chan did not finish the sentence in Y/n that he took his bag and threw all his cookies into the basket where there were all the empty boxes of fried chicken with the liquid of various drinks. All members looked down at Y/n and then at Chan "What the fuck is going on with you Chan, Y/n had made those cookies, especially for me because you are so bad with her?" Chan looked at Han furiously and with a veil of sadness Y/n leaving the room and maybe it was true he had to find some remedy for his lack of sleep because he had never felt so tired, a bad mood and bad with a person.
It had been a few days since that episode and Chan had not slept much and his appearance was getting worse even with the makeup to perfection he seemed extremely tired and hurt from all the events that had happened, he tried to talk to you but you were immediately away from his gaze and deserved it, some members with him were distant and angry, but the others had tried again to make them drink insomnia-cures and take care of their leader as he had done with them countless times. It was nine o'clock in the evening and he had just finished recording a piece for the new album with Felix "Chris, i think it’s better if we stop working today and go for a night walk. We can also get some drinks or snacks during the walk" Chris nodded, he loved spending time with his Australian friend so they found themselves walking near Han River in an area that they had never been to. Chan saw Felix get up and give him a bag full of snacks both sweet and savory. “Well now i think it’s time to come home at 11 o'clock in the evening but you want to go into your study or our dorm you will have to go apologize with Y/n, see that house with red bricks? She lives with her friends from the university and surely they will be awake because there is light on. Do the right thing because no one will open your dorm room or even your study, good night Chris!".
Chan was speechless until he saw the Uber with Felix inside and started walking to the apartment you shared with your friends, had serious fear and embarrassment to play but heard from the small lobby the laughter of your friends and took courage. "Second floor, the black door I left you a tip in the door good work" a voice unknown to him made open the door of the hall, started to climb up to the second floor quickly and in front of if there was a tiny girl with red hair with the slightly opened mouth "Do i look or do you look frightfully like the boy who is attached to the posters in Sunaa’s room, where is my dinner? Oh my, you’re not the pizza boy but that guy who sang that Nirvana song that Y/n had to spend a whole night editing for videos of your concert". Chan thought he was living in a simulation who was this Sunaa who had her posts in the room and who was this chick who spoke like a machine? "Uhm nice to meet you, i'm Bang Chan i know that maybe it is really me in the posters in your friend’s room, there by chance, Y/n in the house, i should talk to him" Sunaa’s friend let him in the house and a smell of chocolate cake came from the kitchen and a girl slightly busy checking the oven watched him enter their kitchen "Y/n is taking a shower but in 5 minutes she will be here, make yourself at home, you want some cookies, freshly baked cake, hot tea with cookies..." the other girl was trying to get her cake out of the oven and gave Lily the red-haired girl a little look. " Sorry i don’t often come to this house except for my boyfriend so when i meet strangers if i’m slightly embarrassed i talk about it, i am Lily a friend of Y/n, the pastry lady next to me is Sarah, Sunaa the girl with your posters right now will be over the ocean somewhere because she’s a hostess and you know her Y/n works for your group" Chan felt slowly less embarrassed and looked carefully at the kitchen that divided the living room with a large white sofa and two pink puffs. " I would be fine with a glass of water and a cookie, it’s okay if I’m the one who should be embarrassed at this moment to show up at 11 in a house made up only of girls". “Don’t worry Lily’s boyfriend comes to visit her at 2 am to sleep with her even for only five hours we are used to, oh Y/n look who came to visit you is Felix right? It’s not that Bang Chan you say so much that he is an asshole to you but that he finds him extremely" would run with the hair half wet by your friend Sarah to put a hand on his mouth and watch Chan amused while eating a cookie, you had heard an extremely and uncharacteristically familiar voice coming from the living room but you thought it was your brain to make it here, instead there really in front of you was that individual Bang Chan sitting in your living room with a grin.
"What are you doing in my house? Do you want to make fun of me, to throw your anger on me and invade my living space and also in my house?" Your friends looked at you slightly surprised, but you were always the one who tried to make peace when there was a difference between them. " I just wanted to talk to you Y/n and i would like to do it in private" Chan looked at your friends and bowed and saw you walking down a corridor and entered a beautiful clean room with obviously a slightly pink bed, some vinyl of artists like The Weeknd-Childish Gambino-Ariana Grande-Beatles etc, There were lots of pictures of you and your friends and family attached, but one thing made him smile and warm his heart you had some Stray Kids albums and lots of photos you took with members during your travels. Until that moment he knew you had become friends with the other members but he did not realize that this year with some you had really formed a good relationship of trust and mutual friendship, especially with the youngest ones who were almost your age.
"I’ve been a serious asshole to you for the past year and i don’t even know why, at first i did not even notice your presence but slowly i saw that you were always with some of the group and bothered me because you were always so happy and positive with everyone but this is not a reason why i had to act like an asshole with you. I even brought you your favorite snacks i guess, i don’t want to start with lies about our relationship, i didn’t know that you lived here Felix brought me and he gave me this bag." You knew that Chan was a smart guy and good with everyone and annuities, honestly, you did not expect to see him at your home and much less in your room, you could not stand it because even if your room was slightly large it took too much space and you felt suffocated. "Understood, it was not necessary to come here to me at almost midnight you could tell me even at work and then there is no relationship to start, we have never been friends or who knows else so" A slight yawn formed in your mouth and you watched Chan look at you like a puppy and then sat down in your bed "Well i could first apologize to you and then slowly become your "friend" as you are with Felix or Han" You were seriously tired of everything and every one and you didn’t want to become friends with Han also because your heart was beating faster in his presence and this thing did not happen when you were with Han or with Felix. "I accept your apologies Chan but at this time i would only sleep and it is now midnight and i know that the Y/n is awake and head on his shoulders is going to fall asleep standing, what do you say we talk about this face when i’m ready and with a good caramel macchiato hand that gives me the right dose of sugars to wake up?". Chan was a bit amazed by the honesty that you had to get him away from you but you said you wanted to talk to him awake so maybe he didn’t completely lose hope with you. " Sure, it was better as you said yourself if i spoke to you at work not at midnight when you can see that you are really tired and that you are looking forward to sleeping maybe i should go. Don’t need me to walk you to the door go to bed tomorrow at 8 we must be ready to go out of Seoul to record" You saw him coming out of the door and heard a light whisper "Blessed are you that you will sleep this night".
you walked in his direction and you took an arm and made it turn "If you want to sleep with me, in the sense of trying to sleep not to do strange things, oh god you got me right? I know you can’t sleep anywhere but my bed is the most comfortable and i also use a special fragrance that I itch every time I change the sheets to relax and make me sleep better if you don’t snore and if you don’t get too excited there’s room for you too because it’s enough big" Chan looked at you carefully, your cheeks were slightly reddened and you hid your hands in the big sweatshirt that you wore as pajamas and a smile formed in his mouth "You have a strange way of asking things Y/n, Meanwhile I tried them all so if you’re not embarrassed to have a guy in bed with you willingly also because I don’t even know what part of Seoul we are and I have no desire to go back to the dormitory." " No embarrassment I asked you and then you’re not the first guy who sleeps with me, as long as you don’t snore or that you don’t move much" Chan felt a pinch of protection or maybe jealousy towards you and nodded sitting in your bed, He took off his sweatshirt and a slightly over t-shirt where he showed extremely big biceps and thank god he had on pants because he would not be able to sleep in jeans. You looked at him carefully but turned away immediately because you did not want to be a maniac because of his biceps or his big hands, Chan knew the effect it made you carefully, and a smile formed on his lips, and lay down in your bed. " Well thank you Y/n, tomorrow morning i will offer you a caramel macchiato or i will go to get it at dawn while it is already much if i can sleep for three hours" Y/n raised her duvet and became small as she entered her bed and made herself comfortable near the end of the bed on her side.
"Don’t be so negative, try i can imagine things that make you happy i know the sea in Australia or beaches before trying to sleep you, i do this when i’m nervous and then i can sleep" Chan saw you so far away from him that he started to laugh "Y/n, you can sit back and relax. In what sense do you imagine beautiful things? don’t tell me that before falling asleep you fantasize about me!" You looked terrible Chan and threw your pillow in his face "Are you crazy? Why should i ever dream about you when i have to put up with you already at work and even when i enter Sunaa’s room i must see your face! The less i have you in my thoughts the better" Chan was seriously laughing at the situation that you had just created and for a while, he did not feel so happy and worry-free before going to bed. " You said that you imagine beautiful things so you will surely fantasize about me, i'm the most beautiful of the group, Y/n. Now however you sleep that tomorrow morning you have to be presentable at work otherwise you will take words" You looked up and lay down, giving Chan your back and without being seen you smiled and i put a hand on your head for the slight embarrassment that was growing in you.
#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#bang chan angst#bang chan fic#bang chan fanfic#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#skz x reader#skz fanfic#bang chan hard hours#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#yang jeongin x reader#lee know x reader#stray kids scenarios#bad boy x good girl#kpop x reader#skz fluff#skz au
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Just Desserts
Prompt Day 19: Dessert | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, Blow Job | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives and Plans to Start a Life With Steve Harrington Away From Hawkins, He Just Has to Sit Through Dinner With The Harringtons First
If he makes it through the afternoon in this stuffy, stifling Harrington house, he gets dessert. That's what Steve promised and Eddie's gonna hold him to it.
So, Eddie sits next to Steve at this way too long table, Steve's parents on either end like they're allergic to one another, and Eddie stays on his very best behavior. Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am. Elbows off the table.
It's hard, but Eddie sits in his slacks, with his hair tied back, and waits to get his reward. Bribery works on him, and this was the biggest bribe he's ever taken. Steve better cough up the best payout, too, or he'll need legal representation for his deceptive tactics.
Honestly, though, it hasn't been terrible. Not really. They love Steve, and that's common ground.
They haven't been mean to Eddie, but it has been a little frosty all afternoon. They're currently talking about some criminal in town, the wrong element, getting their just desserts, and Eddie nearly chokes. He'll get his just desserts later, the town be damned.
Steve squeezes his knee under the table. A warning, and a promise.
He's pretty sure the Harringtons don't think he's a murderer anymore, so that's a small win, but they absolutely think he's trailer trash and that their only son is far too good to be lowering himself to live in suspected squalor with Eddie. Well, Eddie can't really do anything about that.
He's just here for Steve, because Steve asked. He'll do anything Steve asks of him. Steve saved his life, and then brought him out of the funk that threatened to overtake him after the dust settled.
And somehow along the way, they fell in love.
It's absurd. Eddie knows that. Him and Steve Harrington? The unlikeliest of duos. But they're happy, and have big, big plans.
Even if those plans clearly shake Steve's parents to the core. They were concerned about the news Steve was planning to move to Indy with Eddie, who was not that long ago was wanted for multiple murders, only recently cleared with his not so good name intact.
For the record? Their new apartment is pretty damn nice. Not a rat or cockroach to be found.
"And you have a job in Indianapolis?" Mrs. Harrington asks, and Eddie nods. He does. They aren't idiots. They made sure they'd be able to sustain themselves before they just decided to pack up and move.
"Yes, ma'am," he says.
"A job that will cover your half of the rent?" Mr. Harrington asks, and Eddie knows what he really means, but Eddie stays docile, nodding.
"Yes, sir."
He may have spent three years trying to graduate from high school, and still failed, but he's not a total idiot.
And he does have a job. One that will cover half of the rent, despite what they think. He's not sure they're actually planning on splitting things down the middle the way the Harringtons think they are, they aren't planning to be roommates. But that's okay. They can't think whatever they want.
Later, they'll leave this house, this town, and intermingle their whole lives.
Eddie thinks Steve would marry him tomorrow if that was an option, and maybe it's just Eddie being dumb again, but he's not even scared of that. He's all in, too.
Both of the Harrington seniors nod in a way that looks vaguely disapproving, and Eddie takes another bite of ham. Only another hour or so until they can go home, where Eddie will get his dessert.
Praise the lord and pass the ammunition.
Eddie stretches out on his back in his bed in the trailer. Most of the room is packed up, ready to go, but the bed they left and that was a wise decision.
Steve presses a hand into the center of Eddie's chest.
Eddie grins, "Dessert, please."
"Dessert," Steve echos, and Eddie's pretty sure everything he endured today was totally worth it.
Steve moves his hand down towards Eddie's belt and Eddie lifts his hips off the bed, more than happy to help move this along.
Steve pulls back, and wags a finger in his face, and Eddie laughs, lowering his ass back to the bed.
Alright, alright, he can do this on Steve's timetable.
Steve pulls at the button of his jeans, and Eddie crosses his arms behind his head. He's just along for the ride. Zipper down, Steve slides inside Eddie's boxers, hand wrapping around his cock, giving him a few strokes even in the confined space.
"You were on your best behavior," Steve says, and Eddie nods. He was, he was. "What dessert would you like?"
Eddie grins, "I didn't know there was a menu. You decide. It all looks good to me."
Steve laughs, and pulls his hand out, working the waistband of Eddie's boxers down under his balls, just making enough room for himself to take Eddie into his mouth. Eddie groans, hand finding Steve's hair.
He's damn good at this, and Eddie is continuously awed by him. Who knew Steve Harrington would be a world class cocksucker? Not Eddie. If high school Eddie had even suspected, Steve would have gotten no peace until Eddie had charmed his pants off. Literally.
He laughs at the image.
Steve pulls off, "What's so funny?"
Eddie brushes his thumb against Steve's forehead, looking into his eyes, "Just thinking about how I would have hunted you down like a demodog years ago if I knew what that mouth could do."
Steve laughs, "You're so weird." Then he kisses Eddie's bare skin near his hip, right over the web of raised scar tissue, "I love that about you. I love everything about you."
Steve Harrington loves him.
Hot damn.
Steve puts his mouth back to work again, teasing him, driving him wild in all the best ways. Eddie comes, Steve swallows, and by god, if Eddie's the wrong element, he'll wear that moniker with pride so long as it always comes with Steve Harrington as dessert.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🍰
#steddieholidaydrabbles#prompt: dessert#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie fan fic#steddie fic#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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In "KAOS" nothing is anything, and everything is wrong
Two disclaimers: I am no stranger to modern art, and I have no issue with queerness in shows, or in my own mythology (I'm Greek). I am also aware that KAOS is a comedy. It's in the gutter of British comedy, but still part of the genre. At least I laughed every time they said "Oh God!". I don't believe this is the same person who wrote the great and amusing "End of the F**king World"! The premise of "The gods in our modern world" appeals to me a lot, so that wasn't my problem either. My general issue with KAOS is its horrible delivery, bad writing, and piss-poor Greek representation.
This is gonna be long and full of stupid gifs, so sit comfortably, grab a coffee or some popcorn and... pame!
The "ILoveGreekMythology" Kid
Art without context is just a pretty thing to look at. Most of the time, this context can be found within the art piece itself, as the artist has taken care to weave it in. KAOS refuses to connect itself to any context besides the names and a few vague powers. It aims to exist outside of those "boring old stories of the Greek myth" and be entirely "fresh and modern". Something impossible when the entire show and the meanings are based on ancient recorded material. In other words, KAOS is so meta that it ends up being nothing. KAOS cannot stand on its own because you need more than the viewers being familiar with the Greek myth basics to pull such a show off.
KAOS tells us "See? I know all the names of the gods, and what they did, and I know all the locations, so I am qualified to tackle this". More or less like any Western kid who takes all their knowledge from PJO and Marvel and proceeds to unironically hate ancient deities and make a girlboss out of Medusa.
Here's a Greek word for you guys, ημιμάθεια, meaning "half-knowledge". Α Greek saying very well declares "Half-knowledge is worse than no knowledge". The confidence of thinking you know enough often leads you to grave mistakes whereas the humility of not knowing prevents you from touching shit that you shouldn't. When you have no idea what the original myth is trying to say and spit on its meaning, knowing a few names and locations is just smoke and mirrors. I don't believe the audience fell for that.
And don't get me started on the "subversions". A good subversion is intriguing and thought-provoking. In KAOS, every twist was hollow - Greek myth related or otherwise.
"What if Euridice doesn't love Orpheus?" I don't know, babe. What if??? What was the point of that? What did you show us? That women's stories are dominated by men and men don't listen to women, perhaps? And you chose to twist... the love story of Orpheus and Euridice to show this?? One of the best and most tragic love stories Greek mythology has to offer?? You just mocked the myth, you didn't make anything profound out of it.
The Greek Stuff (Nothing salvageable)
I was surprised to see they had a Consulting Producer (Georgia Christou) and an Assistant Script Editor (Isabella Yianni) who happen to be Greek. And I stress that because those people probably weren't hired or utilized for being Greek. We are not sure they were involved in cultural decisions because we have no evidence and because shows with no Greek elements can have more Greeks than that on their staff.
Okay, perhaps they took 5 seconds to ask Isabella about a greeting - which they proceeded to say in a wrong intonation 🙄🤌It's where Poseidon says "ya sás" in the Fates, by the way. How he said it sounds more like "for you (pl.)" than "health to you (pl.)".
Surprise! The only Greek actor present (Peter Polycarpou) has less than 5 minutes of screen time and plays the caricature of an immigrant with a thick (and inaccurate Greek) accent. He has a canteen, selling falafel which is not Greek, and Dionysus buys from him an unidentified tortilla wrap (which... is also not Greek, if you haven't caught up).
For the show they brought in actors of Maori, Nigerian and Sierra Leonean, Pakistani, Black American, Latvian-Jewish, Iranian, Egyptian, Indo-Fijian and Malay descent and you tell me it was impossible for them to seek and find an English-speaking, skilled actor of Greek descent in a show regarding Greek heritage. Sometimes I wonder, do y'all hate us so much?
They considered Greeks only to give us a simple (and wrong) greeting and a stereotype. Crumbs, we are supposed to be happy with. By the way, there are over 70.000 Greek immigrants just in the UK, usually in the urban centers, many of them students or fairly young employees in the corporate workforce. Not the largest minority but not hard to spot either.
Another plague of Anglophone shows: Almost everyone's Greek name is shortened. Yes, we know their full names but we are told that we will use the short ones. Greeks and their "long and difficult" names am I right fellas? Because saying "Ariadne" apparently requires 5 years of Greek language training, and no English word ever has more than two syllables.
Coincidentally, short names are cool in Anglophone imaginary universes and the "long" names are not. it's so strange Anglophones never make universes where it's cool for Greek names to be spoken in full hmmm... They don't even want to practice saying a whole Greek name for just 2 minutes in preparation for a show full of Greek names. And don't give me that "Greek is hard" shit when we only talk about a few syllables. If Greek kids can learn English since first grade and people here can sing English songs and spell English names, you have no excuse.
They also said the name "Fotis" means light, which is close enough but... ugh.. It's like saying Sebastian means "respect". I am not sure if they asked anyone or what their research was here. If I had the writers in front of me, I'd be like:
(This character from an all-time favorite Greek show is called Fotis)
They also made the flag of "Krete" an alteration of the Greek flag and the local Cretan flag. Which is the stupidest move, because they had to remove the religious symbol of the cross to make the flag fit the universe. These are flags created based on 1) Christianity 2) the Greek Revolution of 1821.
National Greek flag to the left, local Cretan flag to the right:
Flag of the KAOS' "Krete":
The only time they seriously took into account anything Greek, was the time when they decided to remove the religious symbol of our ethnoreligion AND (from what I could observe) keep the nine stripes?? The nine stripes of our national flag represent the syllables in "Freedom or Death". The colors are from the white foustanela of the mainland attire and the dark blue vraka of the island attire, the clothing of the Revolution fighters. (That's more of a meta explanation but the characteristics of the flag were decided during and nearly after the Revolution.)
I think I don't have to explain it more but it's not a homage to put the nine stripes in an ancient era where they have no meaning, and to replace a cross??? Let's... not replace religious symbols on national flags, okay? Thank you.
Another cultural element they changed was making everyone have a dedicated coin to pay Charon. Orpheus has Euridice's coin, "her coin", and he's meant to put it on her before she got buried. In Greek culture, any coin would do. Sorry that our culture restricts your script, dear writers. I guess you had to bend this too, in order to create a cohesive plot with a semblance of a twist.
Finally, the many "Kerberus" dogs were cute and I can understand the creative decision behind that. However, in a show full of inaccuracies, this made me roll my eyes a little. I think the showrunners know that Kerveros is not a breed of dog, and there can only be one of him because he doesn't have any other "Kerveros" to breed with. On the other hand, as demonstrated from art/writing on the internet, quite a lot of Westerners are not exactly aware of how our monsters work, so forgive my uncertainty 😅
Nothing is Anything
Every element KAOS played with ended up meaningless. In the words of a Lifo article:
“Zeus is a paranoid authoritarian dictator in mid-life crisis who fears losing his power and murders his aides to vent. Hera is a promiscuous goddess who repeatedly betrays Zeus and has mutilated mute priestesses for protection. Dionysos is a spoiled and immature zoomer who, apart from pranks, indulges in orgies with all genders. Poseidon a sadistic god of the sea, who tortures the crew on his ship for fun. Prometheus is gay and killed his lover so he could overthrow Zeus. Orpheus is a famous pop singer and Eurydice does not love him. Theseus is black and gay. The Erinyes are tough-as-nails mechs that look like they stepped out of ‘Sons of Anarchy’. The Fates resemble a three-member jury in a talent show. The Trojans are a terrorist group that acts against the gods. Crete is more reminiscent of California than the Mediterranean.”
The "River Styx" is a sea, the "River Lethe" is a lake, the gods are nothing more than spoiled humans, the Moirai are drag queens, the Cave is a club where you have to take a quiz to enter the underworld, and generally everything is modern, flat, mundane and anticlimactic. The producers aimed to achieve a work so meta that a "river" is now a concept, a metaphor, whatever you have in your heart. And those who want to see a river when we speak of a river are probably uncultured swines and don't understand postmodernism. Never mind that rivers are rivers in Greek mythology for a reason. That's not culturally interesting enough to explore compared to the new, cool approach of not assigning meaning to anything. That totally shows love for the original rich and meaningful material...
And the reason behind all this subversion? Probably the shock factor. They brought the characters to a point where they said "We have to save the world from Zeus" - Zeus! The father of gods, heroes and humans! - just because they could. It gives off a certain type of smugness that I personally don't like. I mean, I would like the smugness and cheekiness of KAOS if it wasn't a vapid and practically meaningless show. As nothing symbolizes anything anymore, we are just led from hollow plot point to hollow plot point.
If you cut it out of any cultural influence and see it as a story then it's... okay, I guess. But when you consider that it's meant to derive from certain material and it fails spectacularly, it's not a good story. It forgets its bases and doesn't play with the ancient elements at all. Disney's Hercules did it better, FFS!
Bad Writing (pt.1)
KAOS is not without recognizable themes but their demonstration is so juvenile and heavy-handed that it fails to influence a viewer of average intelligence. For instance, "Riddy" says to her religious mother "You dedicated your whole life to Hera, what about me?" Okay, KAOS, we get it. At the same time, this theme nulls itself because it turns out that Ridy's mother was right to do what she did, as she had a greater goal in mind. (And this, kiddos, is called Bad Writing, because your themes and scenes contradict each other)
The biggest theme I spotted was a criticism of religion and religious people who say "Do as I say, not as I do" and create exceptions for themselves. Only, it's not a criticism of anything real, in this case. It's a fact that some people in the clergy tend to preach peace and love and then they do harm, but we don't know, for example, that The Goddess of Marriage is a cheater and yet she pressures everyone into strict marriages. By focusing their wrath on divine beings who are not known for their hypocrisy, the creators missed the mark.
I can give KAOS props for how it handled Trojans to reflect real issues regarding how immigrants and war refugees are mistreated and blamed. I'd argue it was the only (nearly) well-done theme in the whole show because it had the least on-the-nose delivery and some genuine/serious scenes. But that's it.
More Bad Writing!
Jeff Goldblum's Zeus is shit. He'd crap his pants in an argument with a stern Greek dad/uncle his age. Is this character supposed to be intimidating? (Laughs in Mediterranean) That's not to say that Goldblum is not a good actor, but this role wasn't for him. The same can be said for the other actors, too. They are competent but they only give off the air of "The Greek gods if they lived in London, from the minds of people who think beards and body hair are an affliction". In addition to being misplaced, the actors cannot show their talent when following a script that resembles a children's book.
Why does THE GOD Dionysus have the maturity of a 15-year-old? I repeat, The God Dionysus. He's a freaking deity, and a very old one at that. He is not a teenager neither in appearance nor in experience. In our culture, he is mystical, mighty, wise. Why did they downgrade him so? Just for the plot? This is not Dionysus just because you named him so.
The dialogue rarely takes itself seriously to the point it has you wondering at times "Do people talk and behave like that?". In a comedy where everything is meant to be already extreme and parodied. Even in comedies, something must occasionally be serious so there is a healthy fluctuation in tone and the funny moments can hit you. In KAOS very few scenes treated their impactful dialogue as it should be treated.
The queerness and diversity (good elements, in general) were worse off for being in KAOS. Like, I want these elements to be there. I'm just sad about the whole situation. It's not enough that the show is shit, now you also give an additional reason for conservatives to shit on diverse and queer characters because they are part of a stupid narrative.
I'm the type of person who doesn't mind the queerness of Astyanax and Theseus being lovers in the context of this specific show but they're still the oddest pairing to me because they're from the most irrelevant myths and eras. Also, Astyanax in my mind is a baby who died tragically, for little reason if we are honest, so to bring him back and make him a love interest is... ekh.
In addition, isn't Astyanax supposed to be crippled after a fall from the city walls when he was a baby? Sorry to change subjects but the show is so convoluted and with so many issues that it's extremely difficult to stay on track with what's wrong.
To the person who thought this show was a good idea:
Whatever. Bye. I'm fucking done.
#kaos netflix critical#anti kaos netflix#greek mythology#greek gods#retellings#kaos dionysus#kaos zeus#kaos hera#critique#review#greece#xenoi doing bs#movies
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Listening to the Thor:L&T director's commentary again. Have I seen the movie? No. Sorry Taika, not even you can make me actually watch a Marvel movie. But Taika does most of the commentary with his daughters and it's absolutely delightful. Highlights include:
Taika trying and failing to get them hyped for Korg. When Korg first appears Taika goes, it's Thor and his best friend ___, trying to get them to say Korg. When they don't he fills it in himself, "Korg! It's me, your father!" One of them just says that they thought the hammer was Thor's best friend. Sorry Taika 😂
In more Matewa being unimpressed, she apparently fell asleep during both the Sydney and London premieres. When Taika asks if it's because she found the movie boring she says yeah.
Bullet point that I'll just title, why Taika and Rhys are friends. When they first see Thor's hammer again Taika starts doing sound effects and trying to get his daughters to join in. Later there's a beatboxing interlude. Later he's making up a little song about what's happening.
Also Taika realizes that his water glass makes a nice wind chime-y noise when he hits it with his pencil (?) and keeps doing it at random intervals through the movie. There's one section where that's pretty much all they're doing and experimenting with making different noises. Swirling the water first makes a fun noise.
Taika is apparently doodling while recording this. One of his daughters asks what he's drawing. This ends in him giving both of them paper and pens so they can all doodle.
When Russell Crowe first appears they start going on about that time that they all stayed at Russell's farm. Just not paying attention to a good portion of that scene to list all the fun things at Russell's farm.
Dad mode Taika trying to give them life advice about how they don't have to figure out what they want to do with their lives when they're young. They don't sound particularly impressed.
They recorded this shortly after the last season of Stranger Things. His daughters are clearly still obsessed with Stranger Things. Taika is clearly sick of hearing about Stranger Things.
When they get to the bit about Korg's species being comic canonically gay he rambles on a while about how much he loves including a bit of LGBTQ+ representation and wants it to be normalized and thinks it's important that kids see that. It's very sweet. Also, he's quite excited about Korg's boyfriend Dwayne.
One of his daughters (Matewa I think) keeps going ew when Thor and Jane kiss. Taika tries to convince her that there's nothing wrong with kissing but she's firm on it being ew and disgusting.
#it's still tuesday here#so happy taika tuesday#not even a little bit tempted to actually watch the movie#but over an hour of dad Taika is thoroughly enjoyable#taika waititi#taika tuesday
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Since his demo's title is "When the Crows Perch", I've done a little digging around about the symbolism of crows. I only knew that crows are related to death and misfortune before, so I was curious if there were actually other symbolisms.
I have puked out my brain. 🙂 I made the important parts in coloured fonts, so I hope it'll be an easy read.
So! About crows.
Known for their intelligence and their capability to adapt to different environments, crows symbolise changes and transformation. They're also believed to be spiritual messengers; thus, seeing them is a sign to take a different perspective in life.
Other than that, crows are sharp and cautious creatures, which is why people deem that a crow's presence is an omen. A bad one? A good one? Either is actually possible.
In Harumasa's demo, however, what we saw wasn't just any crowーwe saw white crows. Is there a difference? I did more digging. White is a symbol of purity and seeing a white crow is a rare occurence, so a white crow is believed to be a symbol of fortune. In other words, it can be interpreted as: there will be a good change ahead.
Now, let's look at the white crow that appeared in the demo.
It has yellow eyes. Like Harumasa. Is it on purpose? Could it be that it's also a representation of who he used to be; a child with pure intentions who people saw as their hope? Was he the white crow of his family/wherever he came from?? Actually, he could very much still be a white crow for those people, considering the fact that he is a prodigy since young.
I have that thought because in the 1.4 Special Program, they mentioned that a lot of expectations were placed on him. While it could be worn like a badge of honour, the weight of the sense of responsibility that comes with it could be like shackles. Ouch.
Anyway...
Speaking of changes, I took a look at these pictures again.
(1) "Something he can't get over or leave behind." Can't blame him. People expect a lot from him, and he also went through terrifying experiences. None of these things could be dropped so easily.
(2) BabyMasa is in the brighter side of the room, while the man is in the darker sideーin fact, the man is in grayscale. The only thing coloured is that syringe filled with unknown red substance, hidden behind his back. Suspicious lil shーanywaaaaay. I think it's safe to assume that this picture conveys that the man is the one who tainted the white crow image Harumasa has been carrying.
Soooooo.
White crow is a sign of fortune, but to Harumasa? Absolutely not. Everytime he encounters white crow(s), he's painfully reminded of the monster inside him. Something he keeps refusing to accept. ⬇️
Scribbling over his medical reports. I can be delusional and say that his doctor was the one who did that out of boredomーbut yeah. Let's be real and drown in agony instead. Harumasa probably reads his medical records often. That thing was on his bedside table with his pills, somewhere easy to reach. Can't sleep? Bedtime story. Oh, would you look at that! I'm sick!! 😦
Let me dump a whole packet of salt into your wounded heart as well while we're at it. I just want to point out the changes of his pictures in his medical records.
18th July.
First scene: A picture of his adult self in his medical records. Harumasa woke up without his choker on. Curtains were closed. It was raining outside. Choker on. Maybe this would contain his nightmarish thoughts? Wrong. Even while he was fighting against the Ethereals, he saw himself in them. Arrow shot, injecting his younger self. In the Special Program, it was mentioned that he has to clock off on time, even in battlefield. I guess we can say that he doesn't want to be surrounded by these things that remind him of his condition.
Second scene: A picture of when he was a child in his medical records. More scribbles. Harumasa woke up with his choker on. The rain has stopped. Maybe the thoughts would stop this time? Oh. Mirror crackedーa sign of misfortune. Horrors persisted.
No picture in the last one. He was also not on his bed in the last scene. The curtains were left opened, there were lights streaming in. The birthday message came in. I would say that he was out and celebrating, or that he was doing a mission. But, I doubt someone would leave their phone behind if that were the case.
"Congrats on making it this far." Did he really? He couldn't accept himself in the current time. He couldn't accept his past either.
.... I don't need to spell out what this particular scene could imply, right?
MOVING ON.
His choker is used to cover up the injection marks. I wonder if they deliberately made four of these marks, given that 4 ('shi') means death. We Harumasa lovers live in constant worry. Actually, scratch that. We Harumasa lovers live in constant FEAR.
Even with the choker on, he still covered his neck with his hands when he was called a monster. It could be that he was recalling all those times he was injected, God knows how many times, by chemicals. It could be an attempt to deny the existence of those marks. It could be a way to reassure himself, to tell himself that he's still a human. Or it could be all of them together.
This "Look closer... it's YOU." scene is also stuck in my head. I just think it's intriguing. This scene could have two meanings, no? "Look closer... it's YOU." WHICH?!? The heroic Harumasa, or the monster he became? Both...?
If this "Look closer... it's YOU." message was from the white crow, then it might be referring to Harumasa being a saviour, regardless of what he is. BUT, the way he interpreted it? Of course he couldn't see himself as such. Not when fear consumes him, nope. All he sees is a murderous monster, through and through.
Okay. I'm done vomitting words. My head is empty YAAAY. 🥳 Thank you for reading! Let's heal ourselves now with a handsome picture of Asaba Harumasa. 💛
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